The tension in the Baek family kitchen was as thick as the steam rising from the simmering stew. Hyun-woo watched as Hae-in, with a perfectly innocent expression, accepted another helping of rice from his mother, her earlier complaints about his selfishness now forgotten. He could see the smug triumph in her eyes every time Bong-ae shot him a disapproving look. He let it continue for a few more minutes, indulging her in this small, hard-won victory. But the game, as he had promised himself, was just beginning.
As the family finished their meal, Hae-in excused herself to wash her hands. She walked down the short hallway toward the bathroom, her confident stride unwavering. She was, for all intents and purposes, the queen of the moment, having successfully turned his own mother against him. The thought made a playful smirk tug at Hyun-woo's lips. He knew what he had to do. The revenge had to be swift, unexpected, and utterly disarming.
He rose from the table, a casual "I'll be right back" to his family, and followed her. He found her by the small sink, drying her hands with a clean cloth. She looked up, her smug expression not yet faded.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, a teasing grin playing on his lips.
Hae-in's facade of innocence was perfect. "What are you talking about? Eomeoni is just so nice, and her food is so good. It's a pity I don't get to visit more often."
Hyun-woo chuckled, a low, warm sound that made a shiver run down her spine. "Oh, my dear wife, don't pretend you're an angel. That pout, that soft voice, the perfectly timed complaints—you were taking full advantage of my mother's affection for you. You were loving every minute of it."
Hae-in met his gaze, her eyes defiant. "I don't know what you're talking about, Baek Hyun-woo. I was simply stating the truth. You don't tell me when you're coming here. And I do miss Eomeoni's cooking."
"Is that so?" he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. He took a slow, deliberate step towards her, and another, until her back was against the cool wall. He was close now, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, close enough that she could smell the subtle scent of soap and fresh air that clung to him. She was trapped, but a thrill shot through her, a mixture of fear and wild excitement. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, frantic beat.
He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. The act was a silent challenge, an undeniable declaration that he was in charge of this moment. Her carefully constructed composure was cracking. She could see the mischief in his eyes, but also a raw, intense desire that she hadn't seen in years. He was a predator, and she was his prey, and a part of her was utterly, terrifyingly exhilarated by it.
"You're being a very bad girl, Hong Hae-in," he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. "Taking advantage of my mother's kind heart to put me in my place."
Hae-in swallowed hard, her mind a frantic jumble of thoughts. What is he doing? What is he going to do? Her breath hitched in her throat as he leaned in closer. His face was mere inches from hers. She could feel the soft whisper of his breath against her lips. Every fiber of her being screamed for him to just kiss her. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable, a part of her desperately hoping for it.
But the kiss never came.
She felt him stop, the air around her suddenly still. The disappointment was a sharp, cold jab to her heart, so profound it was almost painful. She forced her eyes open, feeling foolish and vulnerable, and saw him looking at her, a knowing smirk playing on his lips once more.
"You're being a bad girl, my dear wife," he whispered, his voice a low, husky sound that vibrated with a playful warning. His face was still so close, she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. The audacity of his words, the casual intimacy of his voice, was a fresh wave of humiliation.
Then, his mouth moved from her lips to her ear, and a soft, shocking sensation made her gasp. He bit her ear gently, a quick, almost imperceptible nip that sent a shiver of pure shock and electricity through her entire body. It was a completely unexpected, deeply intimate act that left her stunned. The tingling sensation lingered, spreading from her earlobe down her neck, making her blush flare into an uncontrollable crimson.
He pulled back, his mischievous grin now in full, triumphant bloom. He had won. He had won so completely that she couldn't even form a coherent thought. She was a CEO, a powerful woman who commanded an empire, and he had just reduced her to a blushing, speechless wreck with a simple whisper and a gentle bite. He turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving her alone, her back still pressed against the cold wall, her mind a dizzying, bewildered mess.
He was gone, but the ghost of his touch remained. The place where he had bitten her ear still tingled, and the words he had whispered echoed in her mind. She was flustered, furious, and deeply, uncontrollably confused. He hadn't just cornered her against a wall; he had cornered her heart, and she had no idea how she was ever going to escape.