Chapter 1: From New York to Ruin

[Prologue]

“I’m pregnant.”

Si-hyeon’s lips parted slightly before pressing shut again.

He stared silently at the man standing before him.

The man’s disheveled hair and rumpled clothes were unlike his usual immaculate appearance, revealing just how rushed he must have been.

Gone was the perfectly tailored suit he never stepped outside without, gone the sleekly styled hair always combed back without a strand out of place.

This was a side of him Si-hyeon had once found thrilling.

Not anymore.

“Si-hyeon-ssi…”

At the low voice calling his name, Si-hyeon clenched his fists tightly.

Inside, he repeated the same words over and over.

‘Get a grip.’

If he could just do that, it felt like he might somehow manage anything.

He drew in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and carefully recited the sentence he had prepared.

“It’s not your child, Vice President, so you don’t need to worry.”

The man who had been stepping forward paused.

Si-hyeon believed there was some truth to what he had just said.

This child had no father.

If he simply believed it was a child that had come into being by accident, on his own, that would be enough.

To erase Cha Hae-jun from his life completely, he was willing to deny even this much.

Holding that clear gaze on Cha Hae-jun, Si-hyeon noticed he was about to speak and took a step back.

“So you don’t need to take any interest. I’ll handle it myself.”

His tone was detached, as though he had already given up on many things.

Si-hyeon had never possessed much in his life.

He hadn’t learned much, so there wasn’t much he knew.

Even when curiosity stirred, he had learned to bury it beneath resignation.

Sometimes he nodded along to the saying that ignorance was bliss.

He often pretended not to want to know, turning away from everything.

That was probably why he met Cha Hae-jun.

Why he came to know someone like him.

In the end, it was all Si-hyeon’s fault.

Confessions about liking him, about being interested in him…

It was no different from Bae Si-hyeon cheaply handing over his feelings in response to such absurd words.

How ridiculous must he have looked.

Watching him wander cluelessly in a foreign country, how many times had Cha Hae-jun thought he was easy to use?

Dropping out after barely meeting middle school attendance requirements was no excuse.

No matter how flustered he had been, misreading a currency unit and acting confident about it, how foolish must he have seemed in Cha Hae-jun’s eyes?

Si-hyeon clenched and unclenched his trembling hands.

If he cried here, everything would be for nothing.

He had to look fine.

He had to seem unaffected.

“You’re someone who can do anything, President. Maybe promises or contracts don’t matter to you. But… I hope you’ll keep it. You said you came to talk, not because you needed me.”

Cha Hae-jun truly was someone who could do anything.

Even this trivial promise Si-hyeon was clinging to could be shattered without a second thought if he wished.

After a short breath, Si-hyeon looked straight at him.

He had to keep his head on straight.

If he wanted to survive, he had to bury the Bae Si-hyeon of the past.

That was the way he had learned to live over the past few months.

****

“My money!”

He had to catch that bastard.

Had he ever run this desperately before?

Si-hyeon forced strength into his legs that threatened to give out as he sprinted, lungs burning.

At some point, the travel backpack that had felt so cumbersome had slipped from his shoulders.

It only held a few worn clothes, so it was probably fine.

With that thought, he kept running.

“You bastard!”

He didn’t even know where he was running anymore.

The only thing that mattered was the wallet in that man’s black-clad hand, his entire fortune.

“Stop right there!”

Who in their right mind would withdraw all their travel money in cash and carry it around?

Si-hyeon was that lunatic.

There hadn’t even been a grand reason.

Just a single warning that using cards overseas was dangerous.

He had hidden the wallet carefully inside his bag and even carried it on his front just in case.

That method had worked fine throughout the trip.

Until now.

A week and a day after arriving in New York, he had closed his eyes for a brief moment on the train, only to open them and lock eyes with a man who had sliced open his bag and shoved a hand inside.

No wonder he’d had a bad feeling since morning.

He had set five alarms for breakfast, but his phone had died because the charging cable broke.

Naturally, no alarms rang, and he missed breakfast.

If that had been all, it might have been just a slightly unlucky start to the day.

But it didn’t end there.

Like buttoning a shirt wrong from the start, the entire morning had gone crooked.

Every traffic light turned red just as he approached.

He missed a bus and waited twenty to thirty minutes.

Rain fell despite no forecast, soaking him completely.

It was as if the heavens had issued him a grand warning, only for his receiver to be broken.

And the result was this chase.

New York was infamous for pickpockets, especially on public transportation.

He had read about it countless times before coming.

Stories about putting your phone in your pocket only to find it gone when you reached your stop.

He had avoided subways, walked instead of taking buses, chosen less crowded times, and never traveled too late.

He had been careful, until a day of relentless bad luck wore him down completely.

Cold and hungry, he boarded the subway and sank into a corner seat, clutching his bag protectively as he drifted off.

He might as well have been a walking advertisement.

Tourist with no awareness, please steal my wallet.

“Hey!”

He shouted for help, but no one came.

“Catch him! Thief!”

He yelled in Korean, unable to recall even a single English word to ask for help.

“You son of a b*tch!”

He chased the thief into a narrow alley and threw himself at him.

“You bastard! Got you now!”

He punched the thief square in the jaw.

A dull thud rang out as the man staggered.

“My wallet! Give it back!”

It was impossible to tell who looked more like the thief.

As he rummaged through the man’s pockets, a commotion rose from the alley entrance.

“Here! Here! This! Here! Thief!”

He waved frantically, only to meet the thief’s pitch-black eyes.

A chill ran down his spine.

Before he could react, his body tilted backward.

Heavy raindrops slapped his cheek as he felt weightless for a moment, then he hit the ground hard.

Sky and earth blurred together.

The stench of sewage filled his nose.

“Ugh…!”

Pain exploded in his abdomen.

His vision went black, then red.

When he finally rolled over, rain poured down from the gray sky.

The thief was gone.

“My money…”

Tears welled up.

No money was as serious as the end of the world.

Without it, he couldn’t eat.

He couldn’t survive.

“If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have come to New York.”

But even as he said it, he knew he would have come anyway.

****

“Ha… ngh…”

By the time he reached the hotel, he hesitated only briefly before pushing through the doors.

Looking like a vagrant, he was nearly thrown out by security until a front desk employee recognized him.

Stammering, he tried to explain.

“Um… housekeeping! I meet! Talk talk! Yesterday! Tip!”

After thirty anxious minutes, he found himself staring at a vivid painting in the lobby.

Red and blue clashed brilliantly, overlaid with orange hues, a sunset over the Manhattan Bridge, he imagined.

Drawn to it, he touched the frame.

Something hard caught under his fingers.

Moments later, the painting fell.

It split cleanly in half.

“Ah…”

Si-hyeon went pale.

He had come to reclaim a housekeeping tip to avoid hospital bills, and instead had destroyed a painting.

Later, in a small office, a thick file was placed before him.

“This was purchased directly at Sotheby’s auction. The work is titled ‘Heart’ by the American painter Carnelly. The winning bid was 5.6 million dollars.”

“Five… point… six… million…?”

‘Won,’ he told himself desperately.

He smiled brightly and gave a thumbs up.

“I can pay it back! Good, good!”

The employees’ faces twisted in disbelief.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen someone so confident about repaying that amount.”

A low voice cut in.

Si-hyeon turned toward the door.

There stood a man so handsome it was almost blinding.

Under the white lights, his sharp blue eyes studied Si-hyeon.

His suit was immaculate, his watch intricate with interlocking gears.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Cha Hae-jun.”

With a flick of his fingers, everyone else left the room.

“Let me ask you directly.”

“Um… can I talk to the staff first about the painting-”

“Where did you hide the stolen item?”

“What?”

“I said, where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t steal anything! My wallet was stolen!”

He tried to step forward.

But before he could, an invisible force seized the back of his neck.

“-!”

He couldn’t breathe.

His vision flickered.

And then his body slammed backward onto the floor.