Fade Novel


It was supposed to be the most beautiful day of her life. Instead, a tragic accident inside the Presidential Palace walls changed everything.
Jina wakes up from a 30-day coma to a world she doesn't recognize, and a man she doesn't remember. He is Kim Joon, the nation's powerful president, a man feared by many, yet completely broken by her silence.
As he promises to start from scratch, Jina must navigate a life surrounded by political secrets and a stranger whose touch feels devastatingly familiar.
Can love be reborn when the memories have completely faded?
A Slow-Burn, Psychological Romance.


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  I Day One. He didn't return to the palace. Min-joon said there was an emergency cabinet meeting in the morning, that the press had begun circulating news of the accident, and that the official statement could no longer be delayed. He said it in a calm, professional voice, the manner he had learned over years of working with a man who accepted nothing but facts, stripped of any softening. Joon looked at him over a cup of coffee he hadn't touched. - "How long will the statement take?" - "Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen." - "Fine." - "And the meeting..." - "I will be there at nine. And back here by ten." Min-joon opened his mouth, then closed it. There was nothing left to say. Joon Kim was a president before he was a husband, and he knew that. But the man sitting before him now in the hospital lobby, in a rumpled wedding suit, with a bruise on his forehead and eyes hollow from lack of sleep, did not look quite like either image. - ...
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I Six o'clock in the morning, and Seoul was still fast asleep. ​Yet, inside one of the Presidential Palace wings, light spilled from beneath the heavy wooden doors. Voices of women filled the room, whispering in a rhythmic cadence that blended excitement, instructions, and muffled laughter. ​Jina sat before the grand mirror, her eyes half-open, contemplating a face she hadn't quite grown accustomed to seeing this way. She was surrounded by beauty experts who moved around her like artisans sculpting a masterpiece, rather than a woman getting ready. ​She wasn't nervous. ​That was what surprised her most of all. ​She had expected to be terrified, expected her heart to betray her on this particular morning, trembling like a bird caught in a storm. Instead, it was uncannily still, like a lake whose waters refuse to ripple unless touched by the wind. It was as if her soul had decided that this day was simply too grand to be greeted with anxiety. ​"Miss Jina, are you alright?...
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I The first thing Jina realized when she opened her eyes was the ceiling. White. Smooth. Illuminated by a light that didn't resemble sunlight. Then the sounds: her own breathing first, then an electronic beep pulsing rhythmically nearby, followed by faint footsteps and distant conversations in the corridor. She tried to move her hand and felt a weight in her arm. A transparent tube. She turned her head very slowly, as if her bones had forgotten how to move, the room spinning slightly once before stabilizing. A white room. Machines. A window with its curtain half-drawn. Hospital. The word came effortlessly. Hospital. She knew what the place meant even before she could remember its name. But why was she here? She opened her mouth to say something, and a raspy, broken voice emerged, one she didn't recognize. Then she saw the man. He was sitting on a chair beside her bed. A tall man with black hair and calm features, he was holding something in his hand but dropped it when he saw h...
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