Book 3 of the undone series. Kim Taehyung is the best , the best at his job at head of security for the Kim SongDae startup, best at seduction. But a forced vacation leaves him adrift and questioning his life choices and direction. Then he stumble...
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As she grew closer, she could see a small woman dressed in a dark suit. Her hair was pulled into a chic twist and her heels lent her the illusion of height.
She slowly turned to face Sky as she heard her approach and Sky stopped and stared. She was a stunning woman, power and confidence radiated from her. She made the suit look utterly feminine, despite its severe cut and dark color.
Sky knew at a glance that people would find her intimidating as hell. But as she turned and looked at Sky, she saw much more than that.
She felt a warmth and kindness from her, openly welcoming Sky, seeking to know more about her. Sparks of soul deep love and contentment surrounded her. All this woman's fierceness would be focused on protection and outrageous love of those in her circle.
Immediately she knew. This was Tae's SongDae.
Dae was absorbed in Tae's paintings. They had broken her heart when she first saw them with their raw vulnerability. She had been surprised and grateful he had agreed to hang them.
Looking at them now, her guess was that he had not been paying attention to what she asked, or more like Tae, gave his permission because he never intended to return to this place.
They were stunning. Dae felt tears prick her eyes as she surveyed the arc of joy to loss to grief depicted in front of her.
In response, her chest constricted with the vice of loss and despair. She was reacting not only to the emotions Tae had created as an artist, or even her concern for his obvious distress in the moment the painting depicted.
Something in the work pierced her deeply, reaching that memory of the time she thought Jin lost to her. She brushed a tear, swiping her phone to double check the text he just sent:
“In a meeting and can't concentrate. I love you! Meet me at home at 6. I need you.”
She traced the words like a touchstone, a reminder that this was real and the grief was a bad memory.
This was the power Taehyung had. This was the light he hid from the world, his skill to draw the truest, rarest, most authentic emotions from his audience with his art.
“Oh Tae,” she sighed, pride and hurt, hope for his happiness and a myriad of other emotions mingled in those two syllables.
She heard soft footsteps on the wooden floor and broke from her intimate thoughts about the paintings. She turned toward the sound.
She watched as a young woman stopped in front of her, her large eyes round and wary. She was beautiful, small and dark, her oversized cashmere sweater emphasizing her curves, in turns a fragile girl and a stunning woman.
But as she stood there in the flickering sunlight, sunbeams chasing shadows, Dae had the brief thought that she was otherworldly. There was something ancient about her despite her unlined face and agile body.
