Chapter 15
I woke to the faint sound of a woman's voice.
My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light. The ceiling above me was off-white with a round LED fixture in the center—definitely not my room. I squinted, confused, my head heavy with a dull ache. Where…?
I slowly turned my head, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Cream-colored curtains. A tall cabinet. A wall clock that read 11:10 p.m.
Wait—11:10?
What the hell happened?
Then, just past the edge of the bed, I saw her.
A woman. Tall. Slender. Dressed in a pale beige trench coat and black slacks. She stood near the foot of the bed, holding a phone to her ear. Her long brunette hair flowed in soft waves, framing a face that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine—striking features, sharp eyes, and a quiet confidence in the way she held herself.
She noticed I was awake and quickly ended her call.
"Oh—you're awake!" she said, stepping toward me with clear concern. "How do you feel? Are you okay?"
I blinked at her, trying to place her face, but came up blank. "Uh… yeah. I think I'm okay. Just a little dizzy…"
"You should be," she sighed, placing a hand on the edge of the bed. "You fainted. You hit your head—not too badly, thank God—but the impact must've gotten to you."
I looked at her more closely. "What… happened?"
"I hit you," she said with a small wince. "Sort of. You were running across, and I was turning the corner too fast. You bumped into the side of my car, fell, and passed out for a second. I stopped the car, checked your pulse, and drove you straight to the hospital myself. The doctor said it wasn't anything serious—just more of a scare. I'm really, really sorry."
"Oh…" I blinked again, trying to recall the moment. I could vaguely remember running… then the sound of tires… and then darkness.
"It's okay," I said, trying to sit up. "I'm fine. No need to worry."
"You're being really calm about this," she said, a little surprised. "I thought you'd be more upset."
I gave a small, lopsided smile. "Well… I figured panicking won't fix my head, right?"
She smiled a little at that, and then straightened. "Right—your phone."
My stomach dropped.
"I'm so sorry," she continued. "It got crushed in the fall. I already sent someone to try and recover your SIM, but the screen and body are totally destroyed. I'll replace it first thing tomorrow."
I froze.
My phone was dead?
Crap.
Shit. Yuna.
She must've been calling. Of course she was. And I never came home.
And now it was nearly midnight.
God, she's going to kill me.
I kept my face neutral, though my thoughts were racing. If she couldn't contact me—she would not take it well.
Forget "not well"—she'd probably burn down my school and demand answers from every building security guard between here and campus.
Still, I just smiled and said, "It's okay. Thanks for letting me know."
The woman looked relieved. "You're very calm about this."
Not really, I thought.
But right now, calming her down was the least of my problems.
After a few moments of quiet conversation, I felt my head finally clear. The dizziness had mostly passed, and I could sit up without feeling like I was about to tip over.
I glanced at the clock again—11:42 p.m.
Crap.
I needed to go.
I slowly moved the blanket aside and started shifting toward the edge of the bed.
The women, immediately stepped forward. "Wait—what are you doing?"
"I should go home," I said as I sat up fully. "I'm feeling fine now. Thanks for helping me."
She looked genuinely shocked. "You're seriously just going to get up and leave? You were knocked out."
"It was a light hit. I'm pretty sure I've fainted longer during boring lectures," I said, offering a small smile.
She crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. "You could still be in shock. You might faint again halfway down the street."
"I'll walk slowly," I said casually. "Promise."
"Are you always this reckless?"
"Only when I don't want to get murdered for not going home," I muttered under my breath.
She blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." I bowed politely. "Really, thank you again. I'm grateful."
And before she could say anything else, I had already grabbed my bag and slipped past her.
"Hey, wait—can't I at least—" she started, but I didn't let her finish.
I stepped out into the hallway, leaving her behind in the quiet room. I could feel her eyes still on me, but I didn't look back.
Thinking about it now, I realized I forgot to ask her name. Then again, it didn't matter.
I didn't have time to waste right now.
Because if Yuna was waiting at home—and by now, she definitely was—
I don't want to think about it.
_______
"Thank you, and enjoy your dinner," I said, closing the short speech with a polite nod. The claps were automatic, respectful. As I stepped down from the stage and made my way toward the main dining table, I felt the weight of a hundred eyes following me. But I didn't care about them.
My eyes were already searching for one person.
He was there—sitting at one of the reserved tables with his university group, just a few rows away. Surrounded by classmates, chatting with that loud friend of his, looking like any other student. But to me, he stood out brighter than every spotlight in the room.
If this were my world—if I could bend everything to my will—I would have walked straight to his table, sat beside him, hold his hand, feed him a bite of food like a real couple. I would've poured him soup, whispered that he looked handsome, and ignored the stares. But that was just a foolish fantasy.
I took my seat at the main table, surrounded by board directors, government advisors, and heirs from families who'd built this country's wealth. All of them smiled, raising their glasses and nodding like we were equals.
I smiled too.
But it was cold. Automatic. My real attention never left the table where he sat.
Luckily, Harin knew what to do without being told. She had already seated herself beside Haemin professor and the students. She was my right hand—sharp, respected, almost impossible to approach in this world—and now she sat with them like they were special.
Because they were. Because Haemin was there.
I wanted every person in this hall to look at that university group with envy. I wanted them to wonder why Yoo Harin, my most trusted assistant, was entertaining mere students. I wanted them to feel like they were missing something they couldn't buy with money or power.
And I wanted him to know that no matter how many people surrounded me tonight, I was still watching only him.
Our eyes met—briefly, quietly. And I gave him a small smile.
The kind I could never give anyone else.
Then I turned away, back to the people demanding my attention. A vice minister asked a question about logistics reform. Someone else leaned over, eager to discuss a new policy. I responded to each of them with the composure of a perfect chairwoman.
But inside?
All I wanted was to keep looking at him. Just him. Until the night ended.
After dinner, everyone moved to the next section of the hall, drinks and soft music filling the space. I spotted Haemin standing with his classmates, surrounded by chatter and laughter. I wanted to walk straight to him, to pull him away—even for a few minutes. Just to talk. Just to be near him.
But of course, that didn't happen.
Executive Min suddenly appeared beside me, politely introducing several elite guests who had been waiting to speak with me. CEOs, lawmakers, heirs—I barely registered their names. I forced a smile, nodded when needed, but my eyes kept drifting back to Haemin.
He was talking to his friend again. No girls. I checked twice. Maybe three times.
Good.
By the time the greetings ended, I was already irritated. I excused myself and headed toward Haemin's group, only to realize Director Baek and few others had followed me like a shadow. I didn't stop them. If I told them not to, it'd raise suspicion.
We reached the students, and Baek stepped forward with a smile. "Chairwoman Seo, let me introduce Dahyun. His father is a friend of mine."
I gave a brief nod, barely glancing at the boy. His name, his father—it meant nothing to me. He could be the son of the Minister of Magic for all I cared. I wasn't here for him.
My attention slid to Haemin. He wasn't smiling like before. Just watching me quietly.
I turned back to the professor and offered the group an opportunity to apply for internships and job offer at our company. I made it sound formal, but the reason was simple—I wanted Haemin close to me. Every day.
If I had it my way, I could just pull him out of university right now, assign him a desk under my floor, and keep him beside me every hour. I had the power to do it. But dragging a nineteen-year-old student into a top position—personally brought in by the chairwoman herself—would raise suspicion.
So I offered it like this. A neutral, open invitation. Let the others apply too.
Photos followed after that. Some students shyly asked for selfies, and I let them.
___________
After everything was over at the venue, I didn't bother to stay longer.
I left as soon as I could.
In the car, Harin gave her usual report. "XXX group has already returned to campus safely."
I simply nodded without looking at her.
That was good. That meant Haemin had left too. He should be on the way home by now.
Today… went well.
I should feel satisfied. I held his hand in the garden. I saw him smiling during dinner, surrounded by people, but still aware of me. He didn't talk to any girls. Not even once. I watched closely and made sure.
I could control myself tonight. No shouting. No paranoia. No harsh words.
That was the plan.
When I stepped into the penthouse, the lights were off. The air was quiet.
I looked down at the entrance. His shoes weren't there.
Strange.
Maybe he stopped somewhere for a bit.
I set down my bag and checked the time.
9:03 p.m.
I sent him a short message.
"Come home now."
It was delivered. Then seen.
That was enough.
He probably got on a bus and would be here in a few minutes.
I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, trying to shake off the fatigue. Then I walked to the living room and sat on the couch, glancing at the front door every few minutes.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Still no sound.
I checked the time again.
9:23 p.m.
Still not home.
Fine. Maybe traffic. Or maybe the bus made a stop.
I waited a little longer.
But by 9:35, something started to feel… off.
I opened my phone and sent him another message.
This time, it didn't even deliver.
Just one gray tick.
I stared at it.
I tried to call him.
No answer.
Again.
Still nothing.
I frowned, sitting forward.
Where was he?
What was he doing?
My thoughts tried to stay rational. Maybe his battery died. Maybe he was still on the bus and there was no signal. Maybe—just maybe—it was nothing.
I stood up and started pacing the living room slowly.
But the thoughts kept crawling in.
He saw my message earlier.
He had time.
He could've left immediately.
But he didn't.
Was he… ignoring me?
No. He wouldn't dare.
Would he?
Maybe he got too comfortable. Maybe he thought my behaviour today was some kind of joke?
Maybe he thought I was playing around.
That I was letting him loose.
That he could test me.
I clenched my jaw, picking up the phone again.
I called. Twice.
No answer.
I tried a third time.
Still nothing.
Still that one gray tick on the message.
By 9:48, the calm inside me was crumbling.
Was he talking to someone?
Was he… with another girl?
Laughing?
Thinking he could get away with this?
My chest tightened.
I walked to the window, then turned around and stared at the door again.
Still nothing.
No call. No text. No Haemin.
I wanted to believe something delayed him.
But I had given him enough chances.
I tried to be understanding tonight. I really did.
But clearly, he didn't appreciate it.
So what's the point?
Why try?
I felt the rage bubbling up, slowly rising in my throat.
I grabbed the glass nearest to me, and flung it hard against the wall. It shattered instantly, like my patience.
I reached for a lamp next. Then a vase.
Crash. Smash. Thud.
I didn't stop.
I kicked the coffee table, flipped a stool, and pushed a chair down.
The perfectly clean living room was no longer perfect.
It felt good for a second. Like I was punishing something—for the anger crawling up my skin.
My breathing was sharp now. My blood felt hot.
Was he cheating on me?
Did he really think I was just being nice today for fun?
Did he think this marriage was some cute roleplay?
He should know better than anyone that I'm not someone he can play with.
I had made today perfect for him. I even held back my temper.
I called again. And again. My hands were shaking.
The sound of the ringtone made me want to scream. No one picked up.
I stared at the door.
He still wasn't back.
10:05 p.m.
10:27 p.m.
11:10 p.m.
I kept looking at the clock. My heart felt like it was beating in my throat.
I waited.
I sat. Stood. Walked. Threw things. Waited again.
I paced like a caged animal. The entire house was a mess. The rug was folded, furniture moved, cushions on the floor, shattered glass under the table.
I didn't care.
Let it break.
Let everything break.
He better have a reason.
He better crawl home with one.
I stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by chaos, eyes fixed on the door.
The clock blinked.
11:59 p.m.
And then—
the door opened.