The ride back to Seoul was filled with a silence that was anything but empty. The small space of the car was charged with an unspoken tension, a whirlwind of lingering emotions from the morning's encounter. Hae-in sat in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery, but her mind was replaying the moment in the hallway of Hyun-woo's childhood home. His words, his touch, the playful bite on her ear—it had been a calculated ambush, a precise strike to her composure. She was furious, embarrassed, and, to her own absolute mortification, intrigued. The man who had been a ghost in their marriage was now a tangible, maddening presence.
Hyun-woo drove with a relaxed confidence, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. He glanced over at her from time to time, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken challenge. He had wanted to break through her carefully constructed walls, and the raw, flustered reaction he had just witnessed was proof that he was succeeding. He knew she was a fighter; he just had to give her something to fight for.
When they arrived at the grand Hong family manor, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The familiar, suffocating air of formality and unspoken judgment returned. They walked into the living room, and the eyes of the entire family fell on them. The Hongs were gathered for their customary evening meeting, and the sight of Hyun-woo and Hae-in arriving together, a sight they hadn't seen in ages, caused a collective ripple of surprise.
The family patriarch, Chairman Hong Man-dae, looked at Hyun-woo with a skeptical gaze. "Baek Hyun-woo," he began, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "I was told you were in Yongdu-ri. I didn't expect you to return with Hae-in."
Hyun-woo met his gaze directly, without a hint of his old nervousness. "We were both done with work, Chairman. We thought we'd come back together." His tone was respectful but firm, lacking the usual timidity that the Chairman was accustomed to.
His mother-in-law, Kim Seon-hwa, with her usual disapproving sniff, cut in. "So you're just wasting time, going on little trips when you should be working? You have the luxury of that, but Hae-in doesn't. She should have been here an hour ago to prepare for the meeting."
Hyun-woo's smile didn't falter. He turned to face her, his voice calm and articulated. "Mother-in-law, it was the weekend. We were both working very hard all week. Everyone needs a break. Besides," he added, a subtle hint of steel entering his voice, "I'm sure my wife is more than capable of joining a meeting without hours of preparation. Her genius doesn't need a warm-up."
The room went silent. The family stared at him, taken aback. The old Hyun-woo would have bowed his head and offered a meek apology. This Hyun-woo had just defended Hae-in with a confidence that was as shocking as it was admirable. Hae-in herself, standing beside him, felt a flicker of surprise and a strange sense of satisfaction. Her husband was a new, unpredictable force, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn't standing alone.
The confrontation ended as abruptly as it began, the Hongs too stunned to continue. The family meeting continued with a subdued air of confusion and disbelief.
Later that night, Hae-in entered her bedroom, the one she had slept in alone for months. She was exhausted, but a restless energy still hummed beneath her skin. She had just finished getting ready for bed when the door opened. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat.
Hyun-woo walked in, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He looked around the room, a faint, melancholic smile on his face. "It's been a while since I've been in here," he murmured, the words holding a weight of unspoken history. He turned to her, his gaze holding hers. The teasing glint was back in his eyes, but it was tempered by a deeper, more serious expression.
Hae-in's facade of composure was already crumbling. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a hushed whisper. "The guest room is down the hall."
Hyun-woo walked towards the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He sat on the edge, sinking into the mattress. "What does it look like, Hong Hae-in? I'm tired, and I'm going to sleep."
Her surprise was replaced by a fresh wave of agitation. "Sleep? Here? You haven't slept here in months."
"Is that a rule I'm not aware of?" he asked, a teasing smirk on his face. He leaned back on his elbow, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm your husband. I have every right to sleep in my own bed." He patted the space beside him. "Come on. It's been a long day. Even a CEO like you needs her rest."
Hae-in stood rooted to the spot, a mix of shock and confusion washing over her. She watched as he settled in, his presence in the room both a comfort and a threat. He was breaking all the rules they had silently agreed to. He was invading her space, challenging her boundaries. And he was doing it with such an infuriatingly charming smile.
He propped his head on his hand, his eyes still fixed on her. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, "I wouldn't mind if you lost control and pounced on me. I'm here, after all. And I promise, I won't fight back."
Hae-in's breath hitched. Her cheeks flushed a furious red. The words were a dare, a direct challenge to her carefully cultivated self-control. The image of the hallway in Yongdu-ri flashed in her mind, the thrill of being trapped, the unexpected touch. He was pushing her, testing her, daring her to break her own rules. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words were stuck in her throat. He was a master of this new game, and she was already on the verge of losing. She was caught between her own pride and a dangerous, undeniable desire to finally, just for once, give in.