Chapter 2: It Didn’t End at the Door

“……What?”

Though she couldn’t see him, his tone clearly conveyed a deep scowl.

“The money for the clothes. I said I don’t need it. I won’t bother you by asking for it.”

Jiheum spoke firmly, making it clear she wanted no further discussion. Then, just before opening the door, she added one last thing as if she had just remembered.

“Oh, and I’m wearing a coat, so it’s not like anything is visible anyway. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Without once turning her head, Jiheum stepped out of the suite.

Joyoon stared at the door as it slid shut.

She had been sobbing beneath him not long ago, yet now she acted as if he were someone she shouldn’t have even looked at. Her refusal to even glance back was exasperating.

“Yoon Jiheum.”

The name flowed lowly from Joyoon’s lips.

‘Ha…, Yoon Jiheum.’

The woman’s self-muttering replayed in Joyoon’s ears.

‘You really want to end your life early, don’t you?’

Given her intensity, it felt as though her life truly would end if she ever had another one-night stand.

“Yoon Jiheum. So it’s Yoon Jiheum.”

Muttering as if engraving the name in his mind, Joyoon brushed his lip with his index finger, suppressing a smile that threatened to break out.

Joyoon picked up his coat from the floor and pulled out his phone, which had been set to silent. There were several missed calls and messages.

He pressed the name of the person who had called the most: Chief Secretary Seo Junhwan.

– Master?

An urgent voice answered before the phone could ring more than once.

“Chief Seo. Do you not understand what ‘do not disturb’ means?”

Joyoon asked nonchalantly as he walked back into the living area. He had clearly given instructions before coming up to the room. He wasn’t pleased to see the pile of missed calls.

– My apologies, Master. Where are you right now?

“You should already know.”

He approached the window and brushed the curtain aside. He looked down at the city, besieged by the deep dawn. He wondered where she would emerge from.

– Are you still at the hotel?

“Why ask when you already know? It’s tedious.”

The corners of Joyoon’s mouth twitched up and down. He realized he wouldn’t be able to see her no matter where she came out from.

If she used her own car or a taxi, it would be even harder to spot her, especially since the hotel entrance was hidden by the pilotis roof.

– Master. If the Chairman finds out about this, it will be a disaster.

Junhwan spoke with grim determination, but Joyoon’s statue-like face remained unchanged.

“Chief Seo,” Joyoon said, his languid tone sharpening the surrounding air. Junhwan, on the other end of the line, was no exception to the sudden tension.

– Yes, Master.

Junhwan’s voice was laced with nerves.

“Are you planning on reporting this to the Chairman?”

– How could I possibly do that?

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Since you, Chief Seo Junhwan, are… tight-lipped.”

Whether it was a compliment, a threat, or both, Joyoon used his typical confusing rhetoric as he sat lightly on the sofa.

Even if Chairman Ki found out, what was the worst that could happen? Demotion? He didn’t care. The position of CEO wasn’t particularly attractive enough to endure the weight of the crown.

“Chief Seo. Bring me some clothes. Room 2101.”

Through the open bedroom door, he could see his clothes scattered about. He had actually enjoyed the s*x for once. A trace of lingering regret touched his fingertips as he brushed his lips.

– Yes, I understand. Also, the Chairman is waiting for your call.

“A call?”

– He was furious that you disappeared after going to the blind date.

Only then did Joyoon remember that he was supposed to have been on a blind date. He had been so intoxicated by the woman that he had completely forgotten. An absurd laugh escaped him as he realized that, despite telling her he’d make her drunk, he was the one who had become more intoxicated.

“Ah, right—the blind date.”

Boredom and annoyance bled into his slow voice. Joyoon remained composed as if it had nothing to do with him. Or rather, he had to maintain that composure. This was only the beginning.

“It’s not like I’ve only been on one or two. Why is he so curious?”

At thirty, when he was promoted to Executive Vice President, he had been thrust into blind dates like a bolt from the blue. Not that Joyoon was the type to just obediently accept them.

When pressured to marry, Joyoon had declared he was married to his work. However, Chairman Ki, treating his grandson’s words as a joke, had used various excuses to push him into dates.

Each time, Joyoon had responded by getting rejected. When these dates only started damaging his grandson’s reputation, Chairman Ki finally backed off. But now, three years later, after seating him in the CEO’s chair, the Chairman was pushing him toward marriage again.

Does he really not know how to give up? A cold light flickered in Joyoon’s eyes as he stared into space.

“I’ll report to the Chairman myself.”

Hanging up the phone, Joyoon tossed it onto the sofa. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes.

The image of her smooth, naked body danced in his mind. The vivid sensation of her skin responding instantly to his touch came back to life.

“……Am I sexually frustrated?”

He muttered, as if disgusted with himself, and turned his head. Through the open bedroom door, he saw the disheveled bed.

As he stared at the bed, heat seeped back into his eyes.

For some reason, it was a night that left him wanting more.

****

Silence filled the garage.

Jiheum, sitting in the back seat, slowly opened her eyes. It had been over ten minutes since the designated driver had left, but Jiheum remained as still as a stone statue.

“Ha—I don’t want to go in.”

Despite the words that slipped out, her body instinctively straightened its posture. She took a compact from her handbag and checked her face one more time.

Fortunately, considering the frantic nature of the encounter, she didn’t look too bad. Her lipstick, which had blurred and faded, was now vivid again after she reapplied it, and her mascara, which she feared would run from physiological tears, was clean.

Jiheum let out a sigh of relief and pulled at her hair.

Thud. The short-haired wig fell onto the seat. The short hair vanished, replaced by a mass of wavy locks that tumbled down.

Jiheum ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. Perhaps because it had been trapped under the wig for hours, her hair only became more voluminous and refused to settle. It seemed washing it was the only solution.

Gathering the wig and her handbag, Jiheum opened the car door. Her feet felt as heavy as lead as she stepped into the garage.

Click, clack. The sound of her killer heels echoed loudly against the cement floor. Jiheum froze, startled by the noise. She looked down at the heels.

“Ah…”

A groan escaped her as she realized she hadn’t prepared a change of shoes.

Even a rebellious escape isn’t for everyone.

It was a pointless realization at dawn. She had no choice but to take off the heels and carry them. Leaving the garage and entering the garden, she saw the prison-like house looming before her, asleep.

Jiheum hurried across the garden. The cold wind swept against her bare legs, and the February chill rose through the grass against her bare feet, but she didn’t care. She was more accustomed to a cold reception than anyone.

Jiheum opened the front door as stealthily as a stray cat. The wide hallway was silent, lit only by low-intensity lights.

Exhaling a soft sigh of relief, she hurried toward the second floor, but of all times, she heard a sign of life from the kitchen. Instinctively, she turned her head.

Her eyes met those of her stepmother, Jang Seonju, who was walking toward her. Jiheum was so startled she felt like she might start hiccuping. She held her breath, her eyes wide as Seonju slowly approached.

A nightgown, hair neatly tied back, a composed gait—it was a perfectly poised, flawless appearance. In contrast, Jiheum didn’t even want to imagine what she looked like.

Why did I have to run into her now? Jiheum hid the wig behind her back and stepped slightly to the side.

Her mind raced to find an excuse, and her lips trembled as if to blurt out anything. But such efforts were useless.

Seonju simply walked past her with an air of high-born elegance and indifference. No, it was as if she hadn’t even looked; as if no one had been standing there from the start.

Jiheum’s shoulders slumped as she let out her held breath. It was the expected reaction, so why did she feel disappointed?

She wiped the bitter expression from her face. She was about to shake it off and move her frozen feet when—

“Wow.”

An unwelcome sneer flew her way. In moments like this, she wondered if it was better to be ignored like Seonju did, or if she should be grateful that someone at least acknowledged her presence. She still couldn’t tell.

“Whoa—what is this?”

Jiyoon turned on her phone’s flashlight as if she had found something entertaining to watch. Jiheum winced at the bright light blinding her.

“Turn off… the light.”

Jiheum turned her head away and raised her hand to cover her eyes. As expected, her request was flatly ignored. Instead, the flashlight beam scanned her from head to toe.

“What’s with that look? Are you selling your body somewhere?”

Were the clothes on or off? Unlike the usual Yoon Jiheum, who dressed modestly and calmly, the dress that barely covered her underwear and the uncharacteristically heavy makeup were jarring.

“Well, I guess blood will tell.”

At Jiyoon’s mockery, Jiheum’s lowered hands trembled violently.