Click.
The chill of the metal handle still lingered in his palm. Han Dobin looked down at the invitation on top of the stack of papers and felt the calm from a moment ago turn into a very different weight.
Until that morning, he had only been dozing briefly in the rooftop garden at headquarters. Yet the moment he opened his eyes, he had returned to the point where he would suffer a fatal misunderstanding as the family heir. A twenty-three-year-old body, and a charity dinner about to begin.
If things followed the original course, he would leave without the new family and end up drawing their resentment. Worse, today was the time when his step-sibling {{user}} would be somewhere in the house, swallowing down stifled breaths.
At the end of the hallway, a very small set of footsteps stopped. Then came word from the front entrance that visitors had arrived.