Chapter 31: Late-Night Calls and Shady Meetings

“Thanks. Wanna grab something tasty after my interview tomorrow? I’ll pick you up from school.”

“Sounds good!”

“It’s getting chilly, so bundle up. You’ve got finals soon—don’t catch a cold.”

“You’re the one who needs to be careful.”

“This little punk.”

“I’m not little!”

Lately, Do Yoon’s been insisting he’s not a kid, probably because he’s grown a bit taller. But if he wants to make that case, he shouldn’t keep clinging to me. I can see him sulk the moment I skip petting his head—claiming he’s not a kid just makes me laugh. As I tidied up, I said.

“I’m heading to bed. Gotta sleep early for tomorrow. You stop studying too—you’ll collapse.”

“Just finishing this.”

“Alright then.”

The clock showed just past 10 p.m. After a shower, the crisp bedding enveloped me perfectly. Falling asleep like this, I’d wake refreshed and ace the interview. Sure, there’s two weeks of work and a final interview after, but I wasn’t worried. Everything felt perfect.

If things kept going this smoothly, I had no concerns.

But then, as I reached to turn off the light, my phone buzzed loudly. An unknown number.

Who’s this so late?

I don’t usually answer unknowns, but with interviews looming, I hesitated. Would a company call at this hour?

After staring for five seconds, I hit the call button.

“…Hello?”

“Yo, you actually picked up? Choi Seung Hyun, you’ve been ghosting me so much I thought you were dead. Did you block my number?”

I pulled the phone from my ear. The young man’s voice was the embodiment of flippant and sleazy. Damn, shouldn’t have answered. I replied robotically.

“I’m blocking this number too. Goodbye.”

But then he shouted.

“Hey, look at this guy, acting all innocent after smashing someone’s head and threatening my brother. Heard you’ve got some screws loose.”

My brow furrowed. Smashed a head and threatened a brother? Only one name fits.

“…Han Sung?”

“Now you remember?”

His voice perked up instantly. I sighed and said coldly.

“Your brother got all the treatment he needed, and we settled. Besides, he started it with our kid.”

“Yeah, exactly. Since then, he gets jumpy just hearing your name. What’d you do to him? Hilarious.”

Thankfully, Han Sung’s older brother wasn’t calling to pick a fight over that. Then why call? When I didn’t respond, he continued.

“Anyway, I got a sweet spot lined up. Come out now. Thirty minutes from your place.”

“What?”

“Got some hot girls coming, and the goods are ready.”

I let out a hollow laugh. Why are all of Seung Hyun’s friends such creeps? They keep crawling out no matter how many I block. Swallowing my irritation, I said sweetly.

“Yeah, get lost.”

My mistake for answering. But then he shouted urgently.

“No Jae Sik!”

“What?”

“I tracked down No Jae Sik. Still not coming?”

Who’s that…? Wait. No… No Jae Sik?

I frowned, racking my brain, but nothing clicked. He shouted again.

“You asked me to find him secretly. Know how hard that was?”

“How would I—”

Then, like a lie, a scene from the novel flashed through my mind. Grandfather’s line.

“Seung Hyun… is No’s secretary’s child? Not my blood?”

“…!”

My breath caught.

“No’s secretary” was a minor character in the novel, not even cast in the drama. Honestly, I just learned his name was No Jae Sik. Did the original Seung Hyun secretly search for his real father through his friend?

My face turned serious. I didn’t know his motives, but I couldn’t ignore this.

“…Where are you?”

I arrived at the address he texted near midnight. November’s night air was biting. Wearing just a turtleneck and coat, my breath puffed white as I stepped out of the taxi. Seoul’s vibrant club district was brighter than day.

At the building’s entrance, burly men in sleek black suits blocked me. I called Han Sung, passing the phone to one of them. His curses echoed even from a distance. Soon, the men scrambled to let me through.

Getting ID-checked wasn’t fun, but entering like this felt dirtier. What is this, a gangster flick? This is supposed to be a romance novel! My genre’s turning into a crime drama.

…But if it’s already a crime drama, I’d better be prepared.

Just in case, I brought a makeshift pepper spray. I raided Seung Hee’s room for a small cosmetic bottle, emptied it, and filled it with soju, muscle rub, pepper, and chili powder. She’d flip if she found out, but I needed to be ready for anything. I also had a pocketknife—not to stab, but to intimidate.

I considered asking for help before coming, but explaining was tricky. “I’ve been secretly looking for my real dad, and I got a lead” was a no-go. Saying “I’m meeting Han Sung’s brother” would just get me questioned. I left Seung Hee a message: [Call me in 30 minutes]. She mentioned a company overnight seminar—hope she sees it.

Following the men inside, the building was a chaotic swirl of music, lights, and crowds. But my destination was a secluded room. A heavy iron door opened to a black sliding door, revealing a spacious area, completely soundproofed.

Do Yoon would lose it if he knew.

I ran into him leaving the house and, flustered by his big eyes, mumbled I was getting some air. If he knew where I was, he’d have clung to me like glue to stop me.

Let’s make this quick.

Taking a deep breath, I entered. In the center of a U-shaped leather sofa sat a man, legs crossed.

He was idly scrolling his phone but grinned widely when I walked in. He had a snake-like vibe.

“Yo, long time no see, Choi Seung Hyun?”

I didn’t respond, scanning the room. No one else was here in this vast space. No CCTV in the ceiling corners either. He stood and approached.

About my height but sturdier, his hair was slicked back with pomade. In a vested suit, his thick forearms peeked from his shirt. Different vibe from Won Cheol, that potato who bullied Do Yoon. He spoke.

“Disappointed no girls? Same old you.”

Whatever, I’m glad it’s empty. Standing by the door, I said.

“I’m here. Talk. What’d you find?”

“Chill, let’s catch up. You’re just gonna stand there?”

“Does it matter where I stand?”

“Still so prickly… Guess that’s your charm.”

When I stood stone-faced, he backpedaled awkwardly.

“You put me in the hospital too. Who smashes a bottle like that?”

“Your fault. I got stitches too.”

And that’s how I transmigrated. Wait, isn’t this all his fault? Whining about old news now?

Annoyed, I glared harder. He eyed me, amused.

“You’ve changed, huh? Vibe’s different. You used to barely look at me.”

He licked his dry lips, a predatory gesture that soured my mood.

He’s not just gonna spill. If he was, he’d have done it over the phone. Glaring, I sat on the plush sofa in my coat. The table held expensive liquors, a fruit platter, cheese, bread, and even a lobster dish. Checking inside, the white meat looked real—not like the prop team stuffing tissue in food. This was reality.

The snake-like guy sat beside me, smirking sleazily, and poured a dark amber liquor into a glass, the alcohol stench hitting hard.