The Phone That Holds Her Hostage
Everyone knew she had died because of Jae-mun, yet no one dared speak it aloud.
There had even been a witness who saw him try to rape Min-a and get his ear bitten for it, but standing up to a chaebol heir was never easy. As always, those who had nothing could never defeat those who had everything.
Even her own family could not properly rage. Min-a’s death had been ruled a suicide.
This bastard, bring my Min-a back! Bring my little sister back right now!
It was the day Min-uk, tormented by his helplessness before his sister’s death, had gone after Jae-mun swearing he would kill him.
“Why are you coming at me like this? Did I strangle her? Did I tell her to die?”
“You killed her. You killed my Min-a!”
Min-uk’s hands closed around Jae-mun’s throat.
“You think you can kill me? A nobody like you? You can’t kill me. Your life would be ruined too.”
“My life’s already over. I’ve got nothing left to fear. I’m going to kill you.”
“And how will you handle the aftermath? It won’t end with just you. Touch me and your parents’ lives are finished too. You think my family will leave them alone?”
Certain that Min-uk would never dare lay a real hand on him, Jae-mun smiled vilely up at the man gripping his collar. But—
Thud.
“Ugh.”
In an instant Jae-mun crumpled to the floor beneath Do-heon’s flying fist.
“That’s not for you to worry about. I’ll handle the aftermath.”
Do-heon drove his fists into Jae-mun, paying the debt Min-uk’s rage could not. He had watched Min-uk, who moments earlier had looked ready to murder the man, freeze and tremble at the mention of his parents; so Do-heon beat Jae-mun senseless in his place.
“Jeong Do-heon, why you—! Do you even know who I am?”
Helpless under the rain of blows, Jae-mun screamed while shielding his head with both hands.
“How could I hit you without knowing who you are, you stupid bastard? I came here to kill you—you think I’d waste my fists on some random thug? You piece of trash. You need to get beaten until the day you die.”
“You think you’ll walk away clean? You think my grandfather will leave you alone?”
“I think he’d actually thank me. Let’s take this chance to die and reincarnate. Not as another human-shaped shell—be reborn as a real human being.”
Do-heon kept driving his fists into the man curled up like a ball and screaming. Whether the rumor that Jae-mun had gotten his ear bitten while trying to rape Min-a was true or not, a torn scar marked the tip of that ear.
The moment Do-heon saw it, something inside him snapped completely. He could not forgive the devil who had driven his friend’s little sister to her death.
He beat him as if to kill him. Even when Jae-mun, reduced to a bloody pulp, begged for his life, Do-heon did not stop.
He kept going until Min-uk finally dragged him off, until the mess was so bad that his father Jeong Cheol had to fly in from Korea to clean it up—together with a warning that Jae-mun would spend the rest of his life atoning.
An ill-fated connection he had thought was finished.
He had believed he would never see the man again. Yet here they were, tangled once more.
Of all the men in the world, why did Hye-won’s marriage partner have to be Jae-mun?
The reason his mind had gone blank the instant he heard of her engagement, the reason he had walked out of Baekwoljeong before the breakfast meeting even ended—all of it came down to that.
“Kim Jae-mun was my older brother’s friend.”
Hye-won’s calm voice drifted out.
“Friend?”
“Yes. My brother was hit by a hit-and-run when he was a sophomore in high school. Jae-mun came to the funeral. He said they’d been close in middle school but lost touch after he went abroad to study.”
“They were close?”
It was a detail Do-heon found hard to accept. The Jae-mun he knew associated only with other chaebol heirs. A man who treated the poor like sinners and despised them might have bullied Hye-won’s brother—that Do-heon could believe. But walking of his own free will into the funeral of a friend he had not contacted for years? That was far harder to swallow.
“I don’t really know. My brother never talked much about himself, and I was still little then, so the memories are fuzzy.”
All that remained was the memory of how deeply her brother had cherished and doted on her. That single warm recollection had made the rest of her life feel worth living with everything she had.
“I understand that once your father learned Kim Jae-mun was the heir of Ilhan Construction he tried to force the marriage. So what do you intend to do now?”
If she wanted help, he was ready to give it. He had already decided to arrange tuition and a place for her to live so she could finish her studies properly. But her next quiet, unshakable sentence overturned every expectation.
“I’m going home.”
“Where the hell has this bitch disappeared to! If she’s dead there should at least be a body!”
Jin-sang staggered home after several days, dead drunk.
He kicked his shoes off in every direction and lurched up into the living room.
It was enough to make a ghost weep.
Even with Jae-mun’s men they had torn through every mountain and still found not a single trace of Hye-won.
“Damn bitch! You took my words for dog shit, is that it? You completely ignored me, is that it?”
How could anyone run away three hours before her own wedding?
He had been riding a rented bus with the relatives toward the villa when the call came that the bride had vanished.
He had been just about to grab the microphone and belt out a song about spring finally arriving in Han Jin-sang’s life.
The relatives had come along half-doubting the whole thing—was the groom really a chaebol son? Why would a man like that marry Hye-won?—yet Jin-sang, already stripped of their trust, had boasted loudly that they would see for themselves once they arrived. Then Hye-won vanished and overnight he became a fraud.
I knew it. I had a feeling. Now he’s even scamming people with his own child’s wedding.
What? A chaebol? Ha! I only came because he said he’d pay off debts with the wedding gifts. Aigoo. I was the crazy one for believing him.
The contemptuous eyes of the whispering relatives rose again in his mind, and the humiliation and shame of that day flooded back. Heat rushed into his face.
“My own daughter makes her father lose face? Aaargh!”
Face mottled red and purple, Jin-sang roared, unable to contain the rage.
“Aigoo, my son.”
Mo-wol, who had been praying in the master bedroom for nothing but Jin-sang’s safe return, came out.
“My poor child. One wrong daughter and in just a few days your face has shrunk to half of what it was.”
She looked with pitying eyes at the cheeks buried under a thick, unkempt beard and continued.
“One little girl has turned the whole house into a wasteland. Why did such a root of disaster have to be born, tsk. The fortune-teller wasn’t wrong about a single thing. A bitch who should never have been born came into the world, ate up her older brother, and ruined the family. I told you over and over to get rid of her while she was still in the belly because I was afraid this exact disaster would happen. Tsk.”
Anger clouded Mo-wol’s murky eyes.
“Mom, what if this bitch never comes back?”
“She will. She has no choice.”
Mo-wol soothed her frantic son with absolute certainty in her gaze.
“Because of this, at least?”
Hye-ra, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward holding up a cell phone and gave it a little shake.
“How did you find that? Why do you have it?”
“What’s this?”
Jin-sang’s eyes went round as if he had never seen it before. At a glance the phone looked ancient.
“It’s Jun-seo oppa’s. The thing Han Hye-won treasures more than her own life. Every photo she ever took with him is in here. What’s so special about a few pictures.”
It had been last year. Hye-ra, deep in a nail-art obsession, had blown every won of the academy fees Hye-won gave her on equipment. To cover the shortfall she had rummaged through the master bedroom while Mo-wol was at the senior center and discovered Jun-seo’s phone—Hye-won’s Achilles’ heel. The moment she threatened to drop it in the toilet in front of Hye-won, the money appeared.
“So all the photos of Jun-seo and that bitch are in here? She’s stayed all this time because of this? No wonder. Even when we beat her she never ran.”
“The photos, sure, but it’s also Jun-seo oppa’s only keepsake. That’s why she’s obsessed.”
“None of you touch it.”
Mo-wol took the phone from Hye-ra’s hand.
“Wow, so you’ve been holding that bitch’s ankle with this the whole time? Our mom’s smart, huh?”
Jin-sang let out a sound of sudden understanding.
Mo-wol slipped the phone into her pocket as carefully as if it were a sacred relic.
On the day Jun-seo died in the hit-and-run, Hye-won had clutched his phone so tightly it might as well have been Jun-seo himself. She never let it leave her hand for a second. After the funeral her obsession only deepened.
Inside were the photos and videos of the two of them together—the only remaining record of the siblings’ happy days.
Every night Hye-won would stare at Jun-seo’s pictures until she cried herself to exhaustion and fell asleep.
At first Mo-wol had taken the phone away simply because she hated the sight. Later she learned to use the obsession.
With the phone as hostage she forced Hye-won to shoulder the role of breadwinner in place of a son who had failed at every business he tried.
What were a few photos and videos, really? Mo-wol could never understand Hye-won. But one thing was certain: because of that phone, the girl would come home.