Chapter 12
The shop manager offered praise laced with pure, unfeigned admiration. Ha-jin managed an awkward smile as she gazed at Yoo Soo-hee's inscrutable face in the mirror, and that's when she leaned in close, whispering so only Ha-jin could hear.
"These earrings have a listening device built in. They needed to look the part, so I bought an expensive prototype of the latest model and had it custom-made. It's the brand Min Director favors most."
"...Ah."
The new earrings filled her empty earlobe. Only then did Ha-jin grasp her aunt's true intent, and she ducked her head slightly with a shy smile, as if touched by this unexpected gift from her aunt.
"Thank you, Aunt."
"It's a good day—time to wear a good-luck charm. My precious niece deserves to hear only good things."
In the mirror, the two of them looked like nothing more than an affectionate family. Only Ha-jin sensed the weight behind those words; no one else seemed to suspect a thing.
Ha-jin stared at her reflection, her stomach churning faintly.
***
Having passed off the most crucial tool disguised as a gift, Yoo Soo-hee soon excused herself, claiming urgent business elsewhere.
There was still some time before Baek Tae-ju arrived to pick her up. Ha-jin headed into the private lounge reserved for VIP clients, instinctively about to sink into the recliner—then remembered her hair had been styled and sighed, straightening her back instead.
"Look at the people sitting there. Even in a place meant for relaxing, not a single one is slouched over."
It had happened once when Yoo Soo-hee had taken young Ha-jin to some boutique in Naples. The space was filled with impeccably dressed people coming and going, yet despite the plush sofas and recliners, no one sprawled out like they owned the place. Everyone sat ramrod straight, looking almost uncomfortably poised.
"In a setting that demands that kind of presence, your posture has to match. No one with perfectly styled hair and clothes is going to flop down and lounge around."
"So rich people live like that all the time? Always keeping their backs so straight like that?"
Ha-jin had recoiled at the thought, but Yoo Soo-hee had simply gazed down at her and shaken her head.
"In places where they're dressed to the nines, sure. But when they're off-duty, even they wander around in the simplest outfits without a trace of pretense or arrogance."
A day, two days, months, years... As time wore on and Ha-jin learned and internalized it all, the lesson that hit her hardest and fastest was this: in uncomfortable situations, even your posture and behavior had to endure the discomfort.
Before long, Ha-jin received a call from Baek Tae-ju. She rubbed her stiff neck and stepped outside, where a sleek luxury sedan glided to a smooth stop in front of her. Through the open window, the driver gave her a polite nod of greeting; Ha-jin returned it and climbed in.
Baek Tae-ju, as impeccably dressed as ever while scanning his tablet PC, turned his head. He'd apparently asked Im Yeo-sa about Ha-jin's outfit for the day—intentionally or not, he was dressed head-to toe in black to match her.
His gaze swept over her slowly from head to toe, appraising her like a piece of fine merchandise. A faint, peculiar smile crept across his icy features.
"You could pass for Yoo Executive Director's niece, no question."
At Baek Tae-ju's words, Ha-jin unwittingly glanced toward the driver in embarrassment, but he spoke up as if to dispel any doubts.
"The people around me are all thoroughly loyal. You don't need to worry—no leaks, ever. We cut off anything like that at the source."
"...That's a relief."
As Ha-jin let out a small sigh with her reply, Baek Tae-ju—still eyeing her sharply—suddenly seized her chin.
"Ah...!"
His gaze locked onto her lips. They were coated in nearly nude pink-beige lipstick, topped with a glossy sheen.
"Red wouldn't have looked bad either."
His low voice slithered in, damp and scraping at her ear. Ha-jin glared daggers back at him and smacked his hand away with a sharp crack, rubbing her chin with the back of her own hand.
"Talk without touching my body."
Baek Tae-ju stared at his rejected hand with an ambiguous expression, then chuckled softly as he reached into the center console and pulled something out.
"Then, if I ask permission first?"
Ha-jin shot him a sour look as if to say What?, and he opened the small square case in his hand.
"Looks like we'll need a fake proposal after all."
Ha-jin nearly burst out laughing at the sight of the ring before her.
Earrings rigged for surveillance from her 'aunt' to fit the occasion, and now a fake proposal with a ring. And yet, for all their 'fakeness' in purpose, these were genuine articles of staggering value. Nothing adorning her body was counterfeit—except for Yoo Ha-jin herself, wrapped so dazzlingly in the facade.
"If it's necessary."
At Ha-jin's curt response, Tae-ju plucked the ring from its velvet slot and drew her left hand toward him.
"Yoo Executive Director wouldn't have thrown this together haphazardly. She's put you through the wringer down there, so no need to worry about basic background questions."
"......"
A chill of metal touched her ring finger. How had he known her size? The ring fit perfectly, its exquisitely cut facets scattering blinding sparks at the slightest light, much like the earrings.
"If anyone asks about how we met or anything about me, just brush it off."
"Yes."
Slipping it on took no time at all, but even after, Baek Tae-ju didn't release her hand. Slowly, languidly, his oiled fingers caressed hers in a torturously deliberate departure. A faint electric current prickled from her elbow to her fingertips.
"Makes sense. You got down on your knees and begged me in that hellhole, after all. You must be pretty desperate."
Just as a hazy warmth began to drift through the air, he doused it with cold water, murmuring icily. Ha-jin knew exactly what incident he was referring to; she bit the inside of her lower lip to keep her reaction from showing.
She knew humiliating her like this was one of that bastard's vicious hobbies, but sometimes she just wanted to slap him. The hand he'd held trembled ever so slightly.
***
The massive gate parted to either side with a heavy thud befitting its weight. The foreign sedan glided along the pristine paved driveway, and outside the window, an impossibly lush panorama of deep green unfolded.
The elegant, beautiful mansion's roof was shrouded by a dense pine forest, evoking the air of a fortress hidden away from the world.
The moment Ha-jin's heels touched the ground after stepping out, three or four waiting staff bowed deeply in unison.
Wolsongwon had been built from the start to reflect Baek Chairman's obsessive love for ancient cultural artifacts and hanok architecture, evident in every detail. Including the basement, the main building rose three stories tall, with two annexes connected in a grand ㄷ-shape, perfectly mimicking a late Joseon yangban estate.
But the interior was a different world entirely. A soaring ceiling gleamed under the soft glow of an ornate Western chandelier, handcrafted from priceless Murano glass—an antique centuries old.
Along the corridor of pristine white marble walls—bare as a temple cloister—stood a simple white porcelain vase on a pedestal, the first sight to greet visitors. East and West blended seamlessly to the chairman's exact tastes, the air scented with refreshing agarwood.
It was a far cry from Yoo Soo-hee's fully Westernized preferences, shaped by her long years in America. Ha-jin recalled seeing every painting on the walls and artwork on display in some catalog or another as she followed the servant.
"Dinner is ready. This way, please."
The moment Ha-jin entered the dining room with Tae-ju, following the guidance, her heart—which she'd kept steady until now—began to pound wildly.