Chapter 55: Tangled Past and Corporate Games

The fact that Ju Ria’s family ran a media company was a big problem. No wonder Father was so attentive to Chairman Joo—Grandfather’s influence was clearly at play. Ju Ria spoke again.

“Relax your face. Think I’m dragging you to a wedding? Ridiculous. I don’t even like you. Why so glum?”

That was the only relief. If Ju Ria had been into me, my brain would’ve short-circuited. She added.

“I went late to the exhibition on purpose. Because you were there.”

My eyes widened.

“The car accident excuse was a lie?”

“Yup. Didn’t want to hear you go on about loneliness in my art again.”

My face flushed again. I’d been dodging her at the gallery, but she disliked me more. Embarrassed, I stammered.

“Don’t worry, your art’s not my taste. Didn’t get it then, won’t now. I’m clueless about fine art.”

“That’s kinda insulting.”

What does she want from me?

Then it hit me where I’d seen her. Narrowing my eyes, I asked.

“Didn’t you go to that Jeju hotel a month ago?”

Her bored expression vanished, eyes widening.

“You were there! I stared, thinking it was you, but your vibe was so different I wasn’t sure. If you hadn’t said anything, I’d never have known.”

“Haha…”

So it was her—the woman with the drunk friend who nearly crashed into me. Her sharp eyes had felt familiar, but her casual tracksuit and glasses threw me off. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low.

“So, that guy with you—was he your boyfriend?”

“What?”

I nearly jumped out of my seat. Is she insane?

“He’s my brother!”

“Brother?”

She frowned, puzzled.

“You never mentioned a brother. Just Seung Hee sometimes.”

“Well…”

Original Choi Seung Hyun hated Do Yoon back then, probably why. Ju Ria clapped, remembering.

“Oh, him? The kid you brought in during your third year.”

Do Yoon joined Haewon at sixteen, when Seung Hyun was twenty-three. With Seung Hyun’s academic delay, third year fits. No way this circle didn’t know that scandal. I nodded awkwardly.

“Yeah.”

She shook her head.

“Nah, doesn’t add up.”

“What? I’m telling you it’s true.”

“That was when you confessed, blabbing about inner darkness.”

“Can we stop talking about that?”

“It makes sense you’d be shaken. Parents bringing in another kid’s a blow—admitting an affair’s different from cheating. It means your share shrinks. I thought that’s why you were a mess, so I pitied you and let your nonsense slide.”

The more she talked, the more I wanted to flee or sink into the ground. She wasn’t stopping.

“I figured you’d hate your brother, but you two seemed close.”

Of course. Getting along with Do Yoon’s my life’s goal. A small victory. Calming myself, I said.

“Whatever you think, it’s a misunderstanding. I’m tight with my brother.”

She pressed.

“So it’s you and your mom who aren’t? Since your dad brought him in.”

“Well… yeah.”

“Got a paternity test? Sure he’s your dad’s?”

Her words hit a nerve, and I snapped.

“That’s too personal. We’re not that close.”

“Sorry if I offended,” she said, looking anything but.

“But that guy—your brother—didn’t look at you like a brother.”

I was floored. Her artist’s lack of prejudice went too far. Why turn a Korean hetero romance novel into a French queer film? It wasn’t about queerness—it was her ignoring my clear explanation that Do Yoon’s my brother.

If she’s right, this becomes some niche art film, screened briefly in a backwater theater, not Romantic Cinderella, a family-friendly, mainstream drama for all ages.

Ridiculous. I scoffed.

“So two guys hanging out means they’re dating? Then you and that drunk girl you were helping must be a couple.”

“Hmm…”

She made a strange face, smirking without answering. Got her there. Feeling triumphant, I grinned. Then she pivoted.

“Well, you never seemed that way. Though you had suitors.”

“What?”

“Lots of guys liked you. Especially Western ones.”

My jaw dropped.

“Are you crazy?”

“You’ve got that… cat? Panther? Vibe.”

“That’s your face.”

She nodded at me.

“You too.”

“…You into me? Trying to get my attention?”

“You always seemed precarious. Not now, but back then, rootless, drifting. A perfect guy with dark circles, puffing cigarettes—Western otaku weirdos with an Orientalism fetish were into you. Too bad you only dated women.”

Her knack for saying whatever she wanted was unmatched. My mind reeled from the blows. Was this all true? If she was avenging my cringe confession with mental torture, she’d won. Then I recalled Han Sung’s thug groping me. Sighing, I rubbed my face. She grinned.

“Something ringing a bell?”

“No.”

“Popularity’s nice. Jealous.”

Her mockery was top-tier. I glared.

“Did I really confess to you? You’re not my type. Like, not at all.”

She laughed hysterically.

“We agree on something! I was worried you’d cling to me today, but you’ve got no memories or feelings for me. Let’s kill time and leave. Coffee’s good.”

I’d never outtalk her. Scarier than Seung Hee. Sighing, I asked seriously.

“Won’t the adults set this up again? I’m new to this, but you seem used to it.”

She frowned, hesitant.

“Today’s probably my fault. Just say we didn’t click, and you’re not interested.”

“That’ll work?”

“You’re Haewon’s heir, young, decent-looking—marriage market-wise, you’re a better catch. I’m older, which Grandfather sees as a flaw.”

“What’s that matter?”

“He thinks a woman being older is a big issue. If you say I’m not your type, they can’t force it. Plus, you’re not my only option. Plenty of guys from lesser families would grovel.”

It felt off. Ju Ria was only twenty-nine. Was Seung Hee dealing with this too? I blurted.

“Age doesn’t matter. Date who you like.”

Her eyes widened like a rabbit’s. She stared, then chuckled.

“Thanks.”