The Leverage
“I never taught my secretary how to pour drinks.”
Yoon Gyeong-pil raised his voice, but Lee Woo-jin’s reply remained calm and measured.
“Ha, Representative Lee, you seem to have lost track of the situation. Is this how Moment operates?”
Yoon Gyeong-pil snorted in irritation. Yu-won glanced down at the hand still gripping her wrist. Despite the man’s composed expression, his palm burned hot and his hold was unyielding.
“The F&L investment deal fell through, too. You should be groveling at my feet right now, yet you’re letting some girl ruin everything?”
At those words, Yu-won’s heart plummeted. It meant the vice chairman of Taekyung Group, Lee Min-gyu, was also behind the sabotage of the pop-up store.
The news of the F&L deal’s collapse was exactly what Cha Shin had reported to Kim Hak-yeon, who would have passed it straight to Lee Min-gyu. From there, it was easy to guess how the information had reached Yoon Gyeong-pil.
Suddenly the wrist Woo-jin held grew unbearably hot. Yu-won twisted her arm without thinking, her heart pounding as though it might burst from her chest.
Only then did Woo-jin release her. “Our pop-up’s first-month target is two billion won.”
“What nonsense is that? The pop-up is canceled!”
Yoon Gyeong-pil slammed the table in disbelief, sending the dishes rattling. Woo-jin merely continued in the same even tone.
“It was just raised to three billion.”
“Ha. The bastard’s gone deaf, too.”
Yoon Gyeong-pil scoffed and shoved his chair back, rising to his feet. Yu-won’s stomach twisted with anxiety; she had no idea what Woo-jin was planning. Was the pop-up truly doomed?
She watched him helplessly, too tense to intervene, when Woo-jin spoke again.
“The Cube Interior. The company Hanseong Department Store tenants always contract with. I found something interesting in their wire-transfer records.”
Woo-jin opened his briefcase and placed a stack of documents on the table.
“There’s one company that sends them regular payments—Y&P Consulting.”
The hand Yoon Gyeong-pil had stretched toward his jacket froze in midair. His gaze flicked to the papers, unease plain on his face.
“Y&P? Ah, you mean the consulting firm my brother-in-law runs. That has nothing to do with me.”
“Then how would you explain the tens of millions spent on his corporate card at the department store near the vice president’s residence and at his regular golf course?”
Woo-jin shrugged and flipped the documents open, revealing highlighted transaction logs dense with fluorescent markings.
“You think you can do anything to me with this trash?”
Face flushed crimson, Yoon Gyeong-pil snatched several sheets and tore them to shreds. Woo-jin calmly lifted his phone instead.
“Well, Chairman Yang might feel differently.”
“Ha, damn it.”
At the mention of the Hanseong Distribution chairman’s name, Yoon Gyeong-pil swore under his breath and pressed a hand to his forehead. Silence settled over the room. Yu-won held her breath, watching.
“…What do you want?”
Yoon Gyeong-pil’s earlier bravado had vanished. Woo-jin answered without hesitation.
“I already told you. Three billion.”
“Pop-up sales aren’t something I can control at will. That depends on Representative Lee—”
“Then restore the location you tampered with. First floor, ground level.”
Woo-jin cut through the excuse. Understanding dawned on Yu-won—he had anticipated every move and prepared accordingly. That was why he had remained so composed.
“Higher sales wouldn’t hurt Hanseong either. If you keep refusing, I’ll have no choice but to suspect you have other motives.”
Woo-jin laced his fingers on the table and smiled faintly.
“Y-You’re imagining things.”
Yoon Gyeong-pil shifted uneasily, panic written across his face.
“There’s nothing like that, Representative Lee. I swear.”
“That isn’t the answer I’m looking for.”
Woo-jin’s tone turned icy. Sensing the shift, Yoon Gyeong-pil flinched and edged backward.
“Fine, fine! I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”
He waved his hands frantically, snatched his jacket from the wall, and began inching toward the door.
“You’re just going to leave?”
The sudden edge in Woo-jin’s voice stopped him cold. Yoon Gyeong-pil’s expression crumpled.
“What else do you want?”
“You still haven’t apologized to my secretary.”
“Representative Lee, I didn’t even touch her. You stopped me before I could do anything—don’t you remember?”
Yoon Gyeong-pil raised both hands in protest.
“You intended to.”
Woo-jin rose as well. At well over 180 centimeters, with a body honed by disciplined training, his mere presence was intimidating.
“For God’s sake.”
The color drained from Yoon Gyeong-pil’s face. His lips worked soundlessly.
“I—I guess I made a mistake earlier. Sorry, all right? I’m sorry!”
He rattled off the apology like a machine-gun burst, then bolted from the room.
Once the commotion faded, silence reclaimed the space. Woo-jin returned to his seat with perfect composure and lifted the glass that had been poured for him. Yu-won stared blankly as his throat moved and the strong liquor disappeared in one swallow.
“Shall we go as well?”
He set the glass down, stood, and retrieved his jacket, his tone as calm as if nothing had happened. Yu-won gathered her wits and reached for her bag, forcing her trembling hands to steady.
“Are you all right?”
Outside, darkness had already fallen. At the quiet question, Yu-won gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“…I’m fine.”
Yet the memory of Yoon Gyeong-pil’s sticky gaze clung to her like a snake. Kim Seung-ju’s face overlapped with it, and an involuntary shudder ran through her.
“Your expression says otherwise.”
Woo-jin had approached without her noticing and now stood beside her. Avoiding his eyes, Yu-won lightly rubbed her still-stiff cheek.
“I’m really fine.”
“Let’s not have a repeat of tonight.”
He studied her face for a moment, then spoke with quiet reproach. Heat flooded her cheeks again at the reminder of how he had seized her wrist.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘Understood.’”
He corrected her at once.
“I wish you’d break that habit of belittling yourself.”
Belittling herself. A bad habit.
The words pricked like thorns. Being scolded by him felt unjust in more ways than one.
“But—”
The question she had been holding back finally slipped out.
“Weren’t you the one who treated me like some frivolous woman and made that offer yesterday?”
“What?”
Woo-jin frowned, as though he had misheard.
“Yesterday, you… to me…”
Yu-won bit her lip, unable to finish. After a few seconds of silence, Woo-jin let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“What exactly did I offer Secretary Shin?”
“You asked me to sleep with you.”
Yu-won met his gaze squarely, indignation flaring. It hurt that he could shake her so thoroughly while remaining utterly unaffected.
“Hmm.”
The ambiguous reply came as he drew a cigarette from his pocket. The metallic click of a Zippo lighter sounded, and a red flame flickered at the tip between his lips.
“I believe I suggested you might want to do something equally bad with me.”
Woo-jin exhaled smoke and fixed her with a steady look. Realizing where his gaze had landed, Yu-won instinctively raised a hand to cover the nape of her neck. The bruise Kim Seung-ju had left still burned beneath her palm.
“I told you I’d match your pace if you wanted to do something bad.”
His stare was relentless, as though it could pierce her hand and find the mark anyway.
“I said self-deprecation is a bad habit.”
Yu-won had no reply left. Woo-jin sent another lazy plume of gray smoke into the night sky. Slowly, she lowered her hand; her fingertips trembled.
The truth is, the real problem is how easily your words sway me. Even while selling your information, I’ve gone and fallen for you.
What would happen if she confessed everything? How would he look at her then?
“I’ll take it from here, sir.”
The polite voice from behind cut through her thoughts. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was—Choi Jeong-hun, the chief secretary who had followed Woo-jin from Taekyung Group headquarters and now handled his private schedule.
“Yes, of course.”
Yu-won stepped back. Choi Jeong-hun’s timely arrival was a relief; she had nearly made a foolish mistake.
Woo-jin flicked the cigarette into the stand ashtray by the entrance. Even that small motion was clean and precise. As he passed her, he murmured,
“If you change your mind, call me. I’ll let you use me as much as you like.”
His voice brushed her ear, sending a rush of heat and gooseflesh across her skin. For one dizzying instant her heart seemed to drop straight through the floor. Then, as though the matter were settled, he turned without a backward glance and slid into the rear seat of the sedan Choi Jeong-hun held open.
Yu-won found she couldn’t move. She remained rooted to the spot long after the car had disappeared from view.
***
“How did it go?”
At Choi Jeong-hun’s question, Woo-jin offered no answer. He simply gazed out the window and loosened his tie.
“I’ll wrap up Yoon Gyeong-pil as planned.”
Interpreting the silence correctly, Choi Jeong-hun continued his report and gave a slight bow. Woo-jin’s eyes stayed fixed on the glass. Everything had unfolded exactly as he had anticipated.
So why this lingering sense of displeasure?
“Was there any trouble?”
“Trouble?”
Woo-jin slowly turned his gaze from the window. Choi Jeong-hun added an explanation.
“You didn’t look well, so I thought I’d ask.”
The plan had succeeded, yet the irritation remained. Woo-jin wanted to understand it himself. He flexed and unflexed his hand; the sensation of Shin Yu-won’s wrist still lingered vividly.
Sometimes things that shouldn’t matter at all still managed to grate—like the faint scent of shampoo, a slender wrist, or trembling light-brown eyes. Or Shin Yu-won rising to pour drinks. Or Shin Yu-won being struck by a man in the lobby.
Woo-jin shook off the afterimage reflected in the dark glass and slowly straightened from the seat.
“There was something.”
“What…?”
“It seems we have a rat.”