Chapter 104: The Fake Painting and the Dark Alley

I had to consider the possibility that he might threaten to leak my birth secret to the press. If that happened, I could sue for defamation and false reporting afterward, and ask Goryeo Ilbo to suppress the story as much as possible. I couldn’t control every outlet, but Goryeo Ilbo would definitely do me that favor.

Of course, that would mean I’d have to take another paternity test. To shut down the rumors, hard proof would be necessary.

This was something I’d have to discuss with Mother.

Seonjeong Hospital is under her family’s foundation, after all.

I had a feeling that connection played a big part in keeping my real identity hidden from the start.

It wasn’t a perfect plan—there were plenty of holes—but if I didn’t tie this off somehow, No Jae-sik would keep buzzing around our family like a mosquito, draining me and Mother dry.

“Thanks for coming, Seung Hyun. I know you’re busy.”

No Jae-sik slipped into casual speech like it was the most natural thing in the world. It rubbed me the wrong way.

“Where’s the painting?”

“It’s big. Left it in the car. Wanna go see it now?”

I stared at him for a second before asking, “Before that—what was the thing you couldn’t say over the phone?”

He looked startled, glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Actually… it’s a fake.”

“What?”

“The Director asked me to source a few pieces. Not everything in Haewon Gallery is real. We hire talented artists overseas to paint high-quality copies.”

I was completely thrown. This was not what I expected.

“You’re not messing with me?”

“It’s true.”

“Since when?”

“Over ten years now.”

My eyes went wide. Suddenly, I remembered him showing up unannounced at the gallery years ago. So Mother’s shock back then wasn’t because she saw her old lover—but because her illegal art supplier walked in? My memories started rearranging themselves like puzzle pieces.

“And that ‘business’ you do in Southeast Asia…?”

“You got it.”

Fake art trafficking.

Okay, that explained why he couldn’t talk on the phone. Talking about forgeries—risk of wiretaps or recordings. Makes sense.

But… was this really all?

My brain said be suspicious, but a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest.

Maybe he had no intention of exposing the birth secret. Maybe he still had feelings for Mother?

“Does Father know?”

“No way. That’s why I couldn’t bring it to the main house. This is just between me and the Director—top secret.”

So this was Mother’s slush fund operation. My frown deepened. Everything fit together too neatly. My head was spinning.

Then… in the original story, Do Yoon didn’t learn the truth from No Jae-sik after all?

The original was from the heroine’s POV, so it never showed how Do Yoon found out. All we knew: Bae Ji An got kidnapped, Do Yoon rescued her, they confessed their feelings—and then boom, headlines everywhere: Haewon Group’s eldest son is actually an illegitimate child.

Shocked, Ji An called Do Yoon. He acted flustered—but he had orchestrated the whole thing.

Choi Do Yoon wanted every obstacle gone before proposing. With a kidnapper for a brother, Ji An would never marry him. So he moved up his original plan.

My expression turned grim.

This was getting complicated.

“You said the painting’s in the car?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

I followed him out of the cafe and down the street. It was farther than I expected—not the parking lot, but behind some rundown building, in a narrow, dark alley. I wrinkled my nose.

“You can park here?”

“Paid lots are expensive, kid.”

He chuckled. Kid? This guy was running a business but couldn’t spring for parking? Sure enough, he opened the trunk—and there it was: a massive framed piece. He bent down, carefully shifting it, then looked up at me.

“Sorry—can you grab the other side?”

“…Sure.”

I didn’t love it, but I walked around and opened the opposite door. The frame wasn’t actually that big.

I muttered, “This it? Doesn’t seem so—”

And then—someone grabbed me from behind.

I didn’t even have time to struggle. A cloth clamped over my mouth and nose. My vision went black.

I came to with numb hands.

My wrists were bound with duct tape, and I was lying on a hard green mat. No idea how long I’d been out.

Where… am I?

The room was a narrow, gray-painted box—like a storage unit. A single yellow bulb hung from the ceiling, casting weak light over a beat-up desk and chair. It looked like a torture room from an old ‘80s movie. Bare walls, one tiny window the size of a fist. That was it.

What the hell is going on?

Then—creeeak—a rusty iron door opened in the distance.

A tall, skinny guy in black stepped in. I instinctively shrank back. He saw me squirming on the mat and grinned like he’d just won the lottery. The vibe was pure creep.

“Finally awake? My jackpot.”

He walked closer, stepping under the bulb—and that’s when I saw it clearly: the scar under his eye.

I went cold.

“You…”

“Remember me?”

That guy. The one who asked for directions. The one reading a newspaper in the park at night.

He was my stalker.

My face drained of color. I’d been kidnapped? By him? Why?

I glanced at the door he came through. There was a small, unfinished window beside it—but no light came in. Either we were deep inside a building… or it was the middle of the night.

Then, through the slightly open door, I heard a voice I knew all too well.

“…Yeah, you thought I wouldn’t do it? Shouldn’t have pushed me.”

No Jae-sik.

I stared blankly for a second, then looked up at the black-clad man standing over me like a king.

“…You two are working together?”

He grinned, flashing crooked, uneven teeth.

“‘Working together’ is a strong word. That old man hired me. I’m just the help.”

You psycho—that’s literally what accomplices are.

“…You’re the one who knocked me out?”

“Yep.”

He dragged the metal chair over with a screech, flipped it around, and sat backward, resting his chin on the backrest. He stared at me like I was some fascinating zoo animal.

“But damn—you’re my age and this loaded? Makes me wanna puke.”

His eyes glinted dangerously. He wasn’t just creepy—he was unhinged. I’d clocked the weird vibe before, but now? Full-on raw madness. Way worse than a cult nut.

I took a slow breath and tried to sound calm.

“You’ve been following me on purpose?”

“Uh-huh. First time, just curious who you were. After that? You looked way dumber than you dressed—so I took the job. Was gonna give up ‘cause that huge guy was always glued to you—but I waited it out, and boom, he finally peeled off.”

I was speechless.

Huge guy… Do Yoon.

Do Yoon had only started sticking to me about two weeks ago—because of Han Won-joo’s threat. That meant this creep had been tailing me at least that long.

So… I was only safe because of Do Yoon?

I hadn’t realized the male lead was also my personal anti-psycho shield.

And I said all that crap to him…

I wanted to see Do Yoon so badly it hurt. If he’d just see me again, I’d get on my knees and beg forgiveness for ever doubting him.

I pretended to sit up, twisting my body wildly. No phone—nothing rectangular in my pockets. It was gone.

Meanwhile, the guy just watched me wriggle on the mat like it was the best show ever.

I grunted, core tight, and forced my upper body up. My bound wrists were behind me—circulation gone, arms screaming. At least it’s not handcuffs.

I scooted backward on my butt until I hit a support pillar. Then—subtly—I started rubbing the duct tape against the corner. It was dull, but better than nothing.

To distract him, I spoke up.

“How much are you getting paid for this?”

“You gonna match it?”

“I’ll double it.”

His face lit up with interest. A flicker of hope.

“Ten billion.”

“I’ll wire you twenty billion right now. Just untie me.”

But in an instant, his wide grin vanished. His face went stone-cold.

“Nah.”

“What?”

“Don’t care how much you offer. Spoiled brats like you—born with everything—all of you should just die.”