Chapter 3
A man exuding a decadently corrupt vibe, laced with an undercurrent of danger. His sharply shadowed features were so exquisitely sculpted that, were it not for the poker game demanding her full attention, she might have stolen a second or third glance herself.
Ha-jin dropped her gaze once more and finally peeked at just the corner of her cards. Without even a second's hesitation, she piled up more chips than the man had.
"Raise. Four hundred thousand. Arrogance is usually the root of a bad play, after all."1
The man's eyes narrowed. On the fourth card, the turn—a jack of hearts—the man shoved a million dollars' worth of chips forward. The people who gathered here were titans of wealth for whom even betting millions was pocket change; their accounts refilled by the next day. Yet even from their perspective, the spectacle of such audacious sums flying back and forth was nothing short of thrilling.
"Not arrogance. Conviction."
The man's gaze slowly raked over Ha-jin, who sat ramrod straight, lingering on her slender fingertips.
"You're trembling. Right now."
Ha-jin stared straight at him, and unexpectedly, a smile bloomed across her face.
"This isn't trembling. It's excitement."
With her reply, Ha-jin pushed all her remaining chips into the center. All in. A suffocating silence descended on the lounge. The dealer flipped the final river card. Seven of hearts. The board now held a consecutive run: 7, 8, 9, 10, jack. With four hearts staring back, the threat of a flush hung ominously in the air—a brutal setup.
"So full of conviction, yet about to watch it crumble."
Baek Joo-heon toyed with his cards. He held a queen and a king. Meshing perfectly with the board's 7, 8, 9, 10, jack for a towering straight. But if Ha-jin had even one heart, she'd have the flush to beat him. Joo-heon stared piercingly at Ha-jin's serene face.
"Let's see it crumble, then."
Joo-heon called and flipped his cards. King-high straight. A hand that crushed most showdowns. Confident in victory, he snapped the cigarette dangling from his lips.
But the woman across from him remained utterly composed. Without a flicker of agitation, she laid down her two cards side by side. Ace of hearts, 6 of hearts.
No way. Shit. A derisive chuckle escaped his lips. Her cards linked with the board's hearts to form an ace-high flush. Superior to his straight.
"Statistics don't lie. I was sure you'd call my all-in, too."
Ha-jin indifferently raked the chips toward her side. Though defeated, Joo-heon showed no outward turmoil. Instead, he found himself captivated by an utterly unfamiliar sensation as he stared at her.
He had never once lost control to anyone in his life, never been outmaneuvered in a battle of wits. Hunting dog—that was the aggressive moniker even industry insiders occasionally threw at him, so going easy was against his nature. In any contest, he had to choke the life out of his opponent, press their weak spots, confirm his dominance.
Yet now, for the first time, he felt utterly at someone's mercy. As if he were the one being hunted. More than the pot's size or the poker itself, it was her eerie composure that goaded him.
A new hand began, cards hitting the board. As they probed each other's moves, Joo-heon searched Ha-jin's eyes for answers, but they were empty as an abyss, revealing nothing.
"This isn't poker. It's like you're out to destroy someone."
Ha-jin lifted her gaze to meet his low murmur.
"You're the one who's too aggressive with your bets. Feels like you're the one getting devoured."
"Scared, huh? But your eyes don't waver."
Joo-heon flashed a sardonic grin as he checked the fourth card, the turn: eight of hearts. Time to go for broke. He figured she couldn't drag it out no matter what she held and added eight hundred thousand more. But Ha-jin, as if she'd read his every move, shoved all her chips in without hesitation.
"All in."
The result was devastating. Another loss for Joo-heon. He raked a hand through his hair and let out a hollow laugh. No anger this time. What surged first was...
A bizarre thrill. The sensation of being thoroughly dismantled, seen through, toyed with—it was electrifying.
Several hands passed, and now the final fifth one. Cards slid from the dealer's hands. This time, Joo-heon mirrored her style, concealing himself with precision.
The board: 10, jack, king, queen in sequence. The river was a low card that changed nothing. Joo-heon held a 9; whatever she had... Calculations racing, he threw out his final all-in bet. The eyes of a predator closing in for the kill.
But just before flipping, Ha-jin locked eyes with him for a split second.
"Fold.1 This hand's yours."
Joo-heon's eyes hardened.
"What?"
As she rose, grabbing her clutch, he growled through gritted teeth and shot to his feet.
"Why? An ace would've ended it."
She flashed a languid smile and shrugged.
"Always winning gets boring. Gotta let you save some pride for the next round."
"......"
Joo-heon stood frozen, watching her back as she turned and left the room. A glimpse of the spade ace peeking from her covered cards. This hand would've been hers too. She threw it away on purpose...
A sharp laugh escaped Joo-heon. A crack in his arrogance, yet after four straight losses, his blood boiled like post-ecstatic adrenaline. Tonight, he had to learn her name.
But when Joo-heon stormed back into the lounge, the woman was nowhere to be found.
A perfect defeat.
***
A penthouse with unobstructed views from the Han River to distant Namsan Tower.
This luxury residence, complete with its own rooftop garden for the unit, had featured on TV shows spotlighting Seoul's elite homes and in magazines, sparking endless curiosity: Who the hell lives there?
And then, rumors swirled through the neighborhood that someone new had moved into that long-vacant enigma.
Some said a celebrity; others, a relative of some corporate bigwig. Talk was rife, but no one knew for sure who actually lived there.
For the past few weeks, it was prime gossip fodder in the informal local circle. The Laum Castle Tea Party—highfalutin name, but the chatter inside was pure trashy drivel, devoid of substance.
"I called the second it hit the market, and they said it was already taken."
"I eyed that place too. Even renting it—what a fortune."
They sat cozied up around the table in a lavish villa mirroring the topic: floor-to-ceiling windows framing the river. These info junkies knew every neighborhood whisper. Yet none had pinned down the new occupant—baffling, really.
And then, as the chatter dragged on like dying embers, a woman who'd been sitting with her head cocked in deep thought clapped her hands, drawing eyes her way.
"Ah! I just remembered!"
"You scared me, Si-yoon's mom. Out of nowhere? What?"
"I swear, I heard Si-yoon's dad say something about it. Why'd it take me this long?"
Frustrated by her circling preamble, another woman cut in.
"Quit laying breadcrumbs and spill it already—we wanna know too. What'd Si-yoon's dad say?"
Clearly relishing the spotlight, the woman snorted softly.
1 Fold: Declaring forfeiture of the hand. All bets placed up to that point are lost.