Prologue: An Interesting Marriage

“A shaman’s daughter—with a prior for assault, no less.”

The name carved into the wooden plaque stood in for the man’s identity.

Spine straight, posture impeccable, he sat as if he had stepped out of a tailored formalwear spread—near perfection itself. Sleek black hair combed back and fixed in a pomade style; a vest worn in place of a jacket so that the solid lines of his torso showed to advantage; a steel watch catching the light beneath the cuff of a shirt cut expressly for him. The monochrome ensemble needed only that single accent.

No—more precisely, the man’s face was the apex of every style he wore. Magazines called him “the hottest unfinished masterpiece of the billionaire club,” or “the heir so flawless there would never be another,” treating Kim Jeeon like a limited edition.

And now, laid before the man the world ranked among its most perfect, sat two profiles.

The women in those profiles had been born in entirely different countries and shared not a single point in common—yet they were the same woman.

The pale, white-backed file belonged to a French-born ballerina, graduate of an elite conservatory: tall, neat-featured, only daughter of a family that had produced artists for generations.

The dark-backed file, by contrast, held Jeeon’s interest from the first line.

“An exorcist?”

A smile touched the clean, sculpted line of Kim Jeeon’s mouth. With long, precise fingertips he turned the pages of the black profile one by one.

“Placed in the National Youth Sports Festival in middle school, but never managed a proper athletic career after her parents disappeared… Entered Yongseo University’s Department of Security Studies, then worked as a freelance bodyguard.”

In a pleasantly low, clear voice, Jeeon recited the woman’s particulars at an unhurried pace.

Of course the bodyguard with shaman parents was far more intriguing than the ballerina born in France. As he traced the years she had already lived, Jeeon let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“…Claimed to be an exorcist, was sued for fraud and extortion—charges later withdrawn—then received a fine for assault. Haha. What a fascinating creature.”

A mere laugh was not enough. Even reduced to a profile, the woman was extraordinarily interesting.

Jeeon set the two files side by side. Tap. Tap. Tap. His fingers drummed the oak desk.

The white profile had been handed to him by his grandfather—Kim Jonghyeop, chairman of GM Group.

“You’ve prepared quite thoroughly for me, Grandfather.”

A soft snort. The corner of Jeeon’s mouth curved; the smile carried a faintly bitter edge.

He lifted the white profile and laid it atop the black one his own informant had brought.

Two lives. Two profiles. The same face, the same name.

Quietly, Jeeon spoke the name of the woman who would become his wife—the false bride.

“Lee Heeseo-ssi.”

Well now. This is going to be a rather entertaining marriage. Don’t you think?

The question, aimed at a bride who could not answer, gathered at the edge of his lips and then vanished.

When one’s grandfather had gone to such personal trouble to prepare a bride, it would hardly do to receive her without ceremony. He, too, would need to make preparations worthy of the gift.