Sunoo woke before daybreak. He lay for a while gazing up at the ceiling as though it might give him a solution.
He had slept just two or three hours at best, and even that time was filled with half-formed concerns. He repeated every word he had spoken to Kang Sunghoon. What if he had already stumbled somewhere? What if Sunghoon had the ability to see right through him?
He sat up and dismissed the thought. No point dwelling over it anymore.
He chose dark trousers and a straightforward white shirt. Easy enough no one would see him, but neat enough no one would ask questions.
Opening his bag before he departed. Then he closed it, opened it again, and looked at all of its contents: pen, file, ID badge. To be absolutely sure, he did it three times.
Staying hidden will only become more difficult if he committed a blunder today. He inhaled deeply and told himself he wouldn't.
As the front desk assistant welcomed him with a respectful nod upon arrival at work, he forced himself to smile back. It seemed insufficient as the elevator brought him to the upper floors. Rather than the pain rising in his chest, he tried to focus on the next day. A schedule printed and a pile of papers already lay on his table. The first thing he saw was a correction in Sunghoon's own penmanship on the red mark across one report. His stomach clenched. Even if he seemed to have still not done enough, he had worked hours on that draft.
A voice behind him mumbled, "Early I see." Turning around, Sunoo observed Sunghoon tightly carrying a cup of coffee. Unlike yesterday, his face displayed a hint of curiosity.
"Good morning, Director." Sunoo spoke softly, "I felt better ahead Sir. " Or you're terrified you'll once more let me down.
He dropped the coffee on the table without even asking if Sunoo wanted it and his eyes dropped to the marked report. "You missed a few details so you need to focus more.
Sung-hoon kept an eye on him for a while before propping one hand on the edge of the desk. Tell me something. Actually, why did you accept this position?
Sunoo's chest constricted. I'm here to ruin you, the truth hung just below the surface, but he couldn't let it slip. He made a half grin. "It seemed like a chance to learn and to demonstrate myself."
Sunghoon said, though there was no actual allegation in his voice, "That's what everyone says." More as though he was speaking out loud. You seem nervous.
Sunoo felt dry in her throat. It's only my second day, which is why.
"Fair enough." Sunghoon straightened and picked up the indicated report. Fix this by lunch. I'll be in meetings, but come see me if you have any queries.
Without pausing for a response, he turned and strode away. Sunoo felt his shoulders collapse the second he left. Hoping it would steady him, he reached for the coffee, but his hands were still shaky.
He sat down and started reading the report one line by line. Every few minutes, his thoughts strayed from the numbers and back to Sunghoon's face, the way his voice softened only just enough to sound practically kind. It was the worst kind of diversion. Here he shouldn't feel anythingneither guilt nor interest, and absolutely no passion.
Sunoo had updated the paper twice by late morning. He worked to persuade himself it was merely another job, nothing more, once he finally gathered the fixed pages. But a persistent uncertainty grew in his chest as he strode toward Sunghoon's office with the file. How long could he pretend he felt nothing if he continued to spend alone time with him?
He knocked once and heard Sunghoon beckon him to enter. The office appeared the same—neat, simple, no indicators of personal life. Reading anything on his computer, Sunghoon sat behind the desk. He looked up as Sunoo entered.
"Finished already?" he inquired.
Yes," Sunoo said, putting the documents before himself. "I went over everything twice."
Without saying anything, Sunghoon turned pages. Sunoo watched him intently, looking for any indications of approval or annoyance, as his eyes swiftened.
At long last, Sunghoon lifted his gaze. He said merely, "manageable."
A strange relief passed through Sunoo. Concentration on the floor helped him to hide it.
Sunghoon replied, pointing to the chair across from him, "Sit." Though Sunoo was hesitant at first, he complied.
"There's a supper tonight with a prospective partner," Sunghoon said. You'll be partnering me. It is not a demand.
Startled, Sunoo stared upward. "I, of course. Should you want that.
Sunghoon examined him with that indecipherable look. "Mr. Lee, you are not just here to view from far. You will learn how these connections work. You'll also observe how fast everything might fall apart if you're not careful."
Sunoo struggled to swallow. The terms were thought to be weightier than they ought to have. Good. Sunghoon leaned back in his chair after closing the folder. "One more thing don't try so hard to appease everyone. It shows your frailty."
Sunoo forced himself to nod even as heat started to rise to his face. "I'll remember that.
Sunggune didn't speak again. "
Before Sunoo stood to go, the quiet stretched on, almost unpleasant. He halted at the entrance, pondering if he should say something more. But nothing happened.
His heart racing so swiftly made his head spin as he finally returned to the hall. He had believed he could manage thisact to be simply another eager worker until he had accomplished what he arrived here to accomplish.
Every day, though, he began to question whether the actual threat wasn't that Sunghoon could discover the truth.
It was that he might not want to leave, even when he finally could.
.
.
.
-
Before the day vanished, Sunoo hardly had time to catch his breath. Preparing the briefing Sunghoon had asked for, he worked straight through the afternoon and tried not to dwell on what dinner would be like. His nerves were taut by the time the sun began to settle behind the cityscape.
Sunghoon arrived at six sharp at his desk. He was wearing just a sharp shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms; no longer wearing a suit jacket. Somehow, that made him seem less dangerous rather than more.
"Ready to leave?" he asked.
Though it wasn't necessary, Sunoo got up and arranged his clothing. "Yes."
Sunghoon studied him, looking for something in his face, then turned without a word and started the exit. They traveled silently downward in the elevator, positioned so close Sunoo could feel his heat radiating from him but ignored it.
A middle-aged man grinned smugly as he stood to meet them at the table. He first shook Sunghoon's hand then turned to Sunoo. "You have to be his new assistant, huh?"
Sunoo gave a polite nod. I am Lee Sunoo. I appreciate you having me.
"Mr. Park," Sunghoon said gently, "I trust the documents were in order."
Mr. Park answered, "for the most part," but his attitude implied something he didn't want to say flatly. He looked at Sunoo then turned his eyes back to Sunghoon. "Maybe we ought to go over some specifics privately."
Sunghoon kept his eyes glued to him. Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of him.
Sunoo's pulse shot up. Trying not to reveal how misplaced he felt, he sat down slowly.
Mr. Park pause then sighed. Among my partners, there have been worries about S. K Group's degree of control in the contract. Some of us are concerned it allows too little room for compromise.
Though it didn't quite reach his eyes, Sunghoon smiled. "And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?"
Mr. Park said cautiously, "a few concessions." "Nothing illogical."
There followed a drawn-out silence. The stress building between them felt like a storm to Sunoo.
Sunghoon murmured, Mr. Park, if your colleagues dont trust me to uphold my promises, theres no use in keeping this discussion running.
"Let's not be hasty," Mr. Park said quickly. "It's really just a matter of openness,"
Leaning back, Sunghoon had one arm resting on the chair. "Then perhaps you'd want to move your business elsewhere."
The table fell silent. Willing himself to remain calm, Sunoo looked at the linen napkin in his lap. He had never witnessed anybody apply so much force with such little work.
Mr. Park opened his throat. "That is not required," he finally said. We just want clarity. Low, Sung-hoon said, "Clarity". "You will have it in writing by morning." He turned toward Sunoo and asked him to jote it down.
Though his hand was shaking, Sunoo nodded and wrote rapidly. Mr. Park was looking at him with a sort of cautious interest when he raised his head again.
Uneasy chat dominated the rest of supper. Sunoo kept his head down, scribbles and pretence of not feeling like he was on the brink of something he didn't grasp. Every so often, Sunghoon's gaze would settle on him, steady and unreadable, and Sunoo would feel a heat rise in his chest he couldn't account for.
Few minutes later, he sat up gently on his chair; but, the instant he touched the seat every eye turned his way. The dining table was far too long, and the tablecloth was a clear reminder that he did not belong. Mr. Park raised his glass and smiled thinly that did not reach his eyes; he barely settled.
"Wine," Mr. Park said as though Sunoo were merely a member of the staff.
Sunoo whispered, "Yes, sir," grabbing the container in the ice bucket. His fingers shook as he tried to stabilize them by grabbing the neck more firmly.
He began pouring, and the bottle slipped at once.
Mr. Park's immaculate shirt was splattered with red wine that flowed down his jacket. In the astonished stillness, the sound of liquid striking fabric was deafening.
Sunoo's throat shut up. Heart beating, he reached for a napkin. "I'm so sorry, let me —
" Don't touch me,you stupid thing!," Mr. Park snapped, his face tightening in disgust. He brushed Sunoo's hand away with a sharp flick. "Do you even know what this jacket costs?"
"I didn't—It was an accident—"
"I asked you to do the simplest thing, and you can't even—" Mr. Park began, his voice rising.
Frozen, Sunoo swallowed, but Mr. Park was still going. "No wonder your company's reputation is in doubt if this is the kind of assistant you hire," he stated icely to Sunghoon. "So clumsy, stupid, and unaware."
Sunghoon looked at him." I said thats enough; dont shout at my employee in that manner for an inexpensive suit. I introduced him here to become acquainted with everything not to be your own butler. Get that into your dense brain! "
Though he finally grabbed a clean napkin and started dabbing at the stain himself, Mr. Park raised an brow as if daring him to dispute but he knew the type of man Sunghoon was.
Sung-hoon came back toward Sunoo. His gaze burned, his jaw tightened so far a muscle ticked near his temples. "And you, what on God's name were you thinking?" he snarled in a subdued tone far too plainly. "You can't even pour a glass of wine without making a spectacle of yourself?"
"I— I—I'm sorry—" stammered Sunoo, wishing the floor would open and swallow him whole.
"You're sorry , yet you still did it. Hmmm! Sunghoon's palms tightened into fists on the table. Get out of here right away.
Sunoo gasped and stood up. "Sir—please—" The word fractured through the quiet like a whip.
As he turned his chair back, shame burned every inch of him. Aware of every silent look following him to the door, he rushed out without daring to meet anyone's eyes. His vision blurred with tears he declined to let fall as he finally arrived at the hallway.
Behind him, the muffled voices continued; Mr. Park would turn the occurrence to his benefit. Resisting the ill pain in his gut, he clutched a shaking hand across his mouth.
One idea struck through the humiliated haze as he leaned against the cold wall:
If Sunghoon ever found the actual cause he was here—if he learned that Sunoo was the one sent to destroy him—it would be so much worse than this.
The door slammed shut behind Sunoo like the last nail sealing a coffin as he at last fell into his small flat. He left the light off. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of the suit jacket, which still smelled faintly of fine wine, allowing it to fall to the ground. His legs buckled before he could get to the bed, and he fell to the ground with his back facing the wall.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he could not glance. He already knew what the message would read—some cold reminder from Manager Choi to report in the morning or, worse, a summons from Sunghoon to justify himself once again. He pressed his palms over his eyes until stars erupted behind his eyelids.
How had he failed so dramatically? That wasn't like him. He had conditioned himself to be cautious and inconspicuous so no one would ever consider to look at him twice. But tonight he had only proven that he didn't fit into that environment—and worse, that he could compromise everything if he wasn't more cautious.
His phone buzz again, and this time he made himself check. One text stood up from the screen:
8 a.m. tomorrow precisely. my office. K.S.
He clenched the phone so firmly his fingers were in pain. He gagged at the thought of what Sunghoon would say to him—how he would gaze at him, hatred etched into every fold of his cheek.
He ought to have understood better than to believe he could play this game. Not the expert they all wanted him to be, he was the youngster from a disadvantaged area who had learnt to smile and bow and conceal his rage. Still, he had little choice but to continue on. Regardless of its price.
Carrying in the quiet sounds of Seoul at midnight—traffic crawling past, distant music emanating from a pub—a breeze raised the thin curtain over the window. He wondered if Sunghoon still sat at the eatery, still listening to Mr. Parks rambling nonsense. Somewhere deep within his chest, a dark, useless idea whispered: What's preventing you from completing what you came here to do if he already despises you?
He gripped his teeth to shove the idea down. He should think like that; after all, he was here to seduce and would precisely do just that.
He rose from the ground gradually and half-darkly stripped himself. With shaky fingers, he folded the shredded shirt. The covers felt cold against his burning skin as he eventually settled. He closed his eyes, yet all he could see was Sunghoon's expression as he had ordered him out—equal parts loathing and disappointment.
One pledge flamed across the paralysis as exhaustion finally pulled him under:
He wouldn't give them another excuse to regard him condescendingly. He would swallow his pride, act the part, and see his own heart rot outside of his chest.
This was not just about deception in the end. It was about convincing them—and to himself—that he was more than the youngster everyone had already written off.
TO BE CONTINUED.....