Chapter 14
“I’m hungry, Grandpa. Can’t we eat now?”
Baek Na-young’s whiny complaint drew a stern look from Chairman Baek, who soon let out a small sigh as if he couldn’t do a thing with her.
“Let’s talk over the meal.”
The massive dining table dominating the center of the room had been carved from a single block of precious agarwood.
It resembled rough, blackened ancient timber at first glance, yet it carried that signature refreshing scent that cleared the mind. The aroma came from the resin the tree had condensed over thousands of years to heal its own wounds. This extravagant table, made with agarwood more valuable than gold, perfectly reflected Chairman Baek’s penchant for flaunting his wealth without being overt.
The dishes laid out atop it were all impeccably neat and refined, evoking the serene ambiance of a traditional Korean restaurant.
They stood in stark contrast to the typical hotel course meals. Tall white porcelain bowls brimmed with seasonal greens arranged like blooming flower buds, while the subtle luster of the brass spoons lent a profound, understated elegance rather than garish shine.
The most captivating sight was the large blue-and-white porcelain lidded box at the table’s center. The faint wisps of white steam escaping the lid carried not the bite of bold seasonings, but the deep, pure fragrance of broth simmered low and slow over hours.
Even the gentle curves of the vessels juxtaposed against the agarwood’s rich hue conjured the refined atmosphere of an elite eatery.
“Must be because you’re Director Yoo’s niece. Your table manners are second nature.”
Chairman Baek’s praise made Ha-jin swallow a sneer inwardly. The grueling sessions where Yoo Soo-hee had drilled her down to the slightest fingertip movement and spoon angle were finally proving their worth amid this tension-packed table.
It was then that Na-young, who’d been munching away sloppily, ventured to speak up first, her voice tentative.
“Um, but...”
Tae-ju’s icy gaze flicked toward Na-young, tinged with faint surprise. After her cousin and his wife perished in that freak accident, Na-young had shut everyone out completely—not a word to family, nothing.
She’d seemed to perk up a little once she started recovering, but she remained aloof around strangers and slow to warm up...
Na-young fiddled with the tips of her chopsticks as she stared straight at Ha-jin. The eyes that had been glued to her phone now lingered on Ha-jin’s earlobe.
“That earring—it’s a black diamond, right? From Chant. I saw it in a magazine and thought it was gorgeous, so I asked about it when Grandma and I went to the shop. They said it hasn’t even hit Korea.”
For a split second, Ha-jin’s ear burned hot. It was the earring Yoo Soo-hee had slipped on herself, concealing a listening device. The clammy metallic chill burrowing into her skin made her swallow hard. But she quickly summoned a practiced smile and replied with feigned ease.
“Good eye. Yeah, it’s Chant. My aunt insisted I wear something special for a special occasion.”
Ha-jin flashed the most natural smile she could muster. Tae-ju, privy to the situation, chewed methodically, his sharp eyes fixed on her.
At that moment, Director Min—who’d been quietly savoring her meal with refined poise or murmuring instructions to the household staff darting about—turned her attention to Ha-jin. Her eyes widened slightly as she peered at the earring and asked,
“Chant black diamond? You’re right. They never stocked them in stores—I only ever saw them in catalogs.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“I’m a huge fan of the brand. My necklace and earrings are all from there. Mind if I take a closer look?”
The instant those words hit, Ha-jin felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. Director Min Yeong-ju was a titan in the art world. For a brand she adored, picking apart every last detail would be routine as breathing—and the thought of her examining it up close sent chills down Ha-jin’s spine. A veteran cop staring her down in interrogation wouldn’t rattle her half as much.
Chairman Baek frowned, moving to intervene.
“We’re in the middle of dinner. What’s with this at the table? You can check it out later over tea.”
“It’s just a quick peek. I heard the clasp design on the back is pretty unique—got me curious.”
Ha-jin had to fight with everything she had not to tremble. She stole a glance at Baek Tae-ju, but he merely sat there, observing how she’d handle it, as if testing her mettle—no help forthcoming.
To make matters worse, the exquisite antique loupe Ha-jin had gifted Director Min just moments ago sat unused at one corner of the table. If she so much as picked that up to scrutinize the craftsmanship or fine details...
Not that it would happen, but this whole mess had blindsided her too, so who knew what curveball was next.
Anyone could get sidetracked by something in their wheelhouse or act on impulse, sure—but why the hell now, right in the middle of shoving food in their mouths? The crude thought bubbled up unbidden.
It was just as Ha-jin’s lips parted to say something and Director Min elegantly extended her hand toward her—
“Kinda hurts my feelings.”
A low, drowsy voice—yet one so weighty it instantly thickened the air in the room.
Ha-jin’s heart stuttered to a halt for that fleeting moment. She didn’t need to turn. She knew. The man from that Vegas night, in the haze of smoke, pinning her with that relentless stare like he wanted to devour her throat.
Baek Joo-heon.
More than Director Min’s hand hovering near her ear, it was the voice from behind that locked every muscle in Ha-jin’s body rigid.
Cutting through the agarwood’s fragrance came a piercingly familiar, decadent cologne—the body odor of the man who’d dissected her every play that Vegas night.
“Already started without me?”
Director Min’s hand froze midair. Joo-heon hooked the chair diagonally across from Ha-jin with his foot and dragged it over before sitting. The screech of wood on floor grated like it was scraping her raw nerves.
He wasn’t in that suffocatingly perfect suit from before, but it did nothing to blunt his dangerous edge. The dark blue shirt layered over his slacks still accentuated his solid, imposing frame.
Some pre-meal habit? His hand, midway through rolling up a sleeve, paused. As Ha-jin slowly lifted her gaze from his arm, Joo-heon stared back, brow furrowed in disbelief, his expression like he’d just taken a punch to the face.
She’d anticipated crossing paths eventually, so she didn’t show much alarm—didn’t avert her eyes. Truth be told, “couldn’t” was more accurate.
His gaze held that same bizarre cocktail of thrill and suspicion she’d seen months ago under Vegas’s glittering lights.
“Joo-heon, say hello. She’s going to be Tae-ju’s fiancée.”
Chairman Baek’s voice shattered the silence. Only then did Joo-heon’s stalled fingers resume their lazy motion. He didn’t bother finishing the roll-up, instead running his tongue slowly along the inside of his cheek. One smooth side of his face bulged briefly, then settled.
“Fiancée.”
The word rolled off his tongue in a low murmur.
The woman etched in his memory was the icy, cunning gambler who’d casually shoved hundreds of millions across the smoky casino table. Yet the one sitting before him now seemed an entirely different creature—hair neatly pinned up, impeccable manners, the picture of upper-crust poise.
“Baek Joo-heon.”
Stifling a incredulous chuckle, he crooked his lips into a smirk for the greeting. But his eyes weren’t smiling. He blatantly scanned the fake ring on her finger, then bored into her eyes with obsessive intensity.
“Sister-in-law... that the term?”
His tone dripped with mockery. Ha-jin replied evenly.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Yoo Ha-jin.”
“Pleased to...”
He muttered under his breath, cocking his head at an angle before tossing out casually,
“Weird, though. Feels like I’ve seen you somewhere before, sister-in-law. And I’ve got a real good memory.”