Rose walked through the glittering hall, her dress flowing behind her like a trail of starlight. The guests’ eyes followed her, whispers rippling through the crowd, but she didn’t care. Her steps carried the same bold confidence as always.

She reached the drinks corner, scanning the collection of bottles until she found the one she preferred. Without asking anyone, she poured herself a glass with practiced ease and took a slow sip, unbothered, standing apart from the crowd as if the whole party existed only in the background.

From across the room, Jungkook’s gaze never left her. Leaning slightly against a marble pillar, a glass in his hand, he watched her every movement—how casually she held the glass, how unapologetically she stood alone, how she seemed to command attention without trying.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. Fearless. Untouchable. She makes rules for herself, and still… she shines brighter than anyone here.

Mr. Min continued speaking beside him, but Jungkook barely heard a word. His eyes were fixed only on Rose, who in that moment looked like she truly owned the night.

Jungkook finally pushed away from the pillar, unable to resist any longer. Glass in hand, he made his way through the crowd, every step deliberate, until he stood beside her at the drinks corner.

“You have an interesting taste,” he said smoothly, watching her sip her wine. “Not many here would choose that brand.”

Rose didn’t even turn her head. She simply placed her glass back on the counter and replied, “That’s because not many here know what real taste is.”

Jungkook chuckled, clearly entertained. “And you do?”

She finally looked at him—briefly, her sharp eyes meeting his—and then looked away again as though he was just another guest in the room. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

Her words, calm yet cutting, hit him like a spark. Jungkook smirked, leaning slightly closer. “You really enjoy ignoring me, don’t you?”

Rose raised her glass once more, took a sip, and said flatly, “I don’t ignore. I just don’t waste time on things that don’t matter.”

Then, with the same poise she always carried, she placed her glass down, adjusted her dress slightly, and walked away—leaving Jungkook behind, still smirking in quiet amusement, even more intrigued than before.

As the party wound down, guests began bidding their farewells. The music softened, the chatter dimmed, and the hall slowly emptied.

Mr. Min approached Jungkook with a polite smile. “Goodbye, Mr. Jeon. Tonight’s celebration was truly grand.”

Jungkook bowed respectfully, though his gaze betrayed him—his eyes were fixed elsewhere.

Across the hall, Rose stood apart, waiting calmly for her father. Her presence still commanded attention, as though the entire room revolved around her. Then, almost carelessly, she glanced down and noticed her shoelace undone.

With unhurried elegance, she bent down gracefully to tie it. The way her white dress pooled around her, her delicate fingers securing the lace, and her serene expression made her look less like a guest leaving a party and more like a scene from a dream—an untouchable princess in her own world.

Jungkook’s breath hitched ever so slightly. His smirk returned, softer this time, almost reverent. Even in something as simple as tying her shoes… she manages to look breathtaking.

Mr. Min turned to leave, but Jungkook’s eyes lingered—still locked on Rose, captivated, as if she were the only person who existed in that moment.

Just as Rose finished tying her lace, she straightened and suddenly locked eyes with Jungkook across the room

His gaze was unwavering, heavy with admiration—but she dismissed him in an instant, turning her face away as if he were nothing more than a shadow in the crowd.

Moments later, Mr. Min returned. She walked to him without a word, and together they bid farewell before leaving the venue.

By the time they reached the mansion, Rose was drained. She headed straight to her room, slipping onto her bed with a sigh, exhaustion settling over her delicate frame.

Mr. Min followed quietly and paused at her door. His eyes softened when he saw his daughter sprawled on the bed, still in her elegant dress, her white shoes peeking from beneath the fabric.

Rose noticed him watching and groaned, half-playful, half-weary. “What now, Dad? I’m tired…”