A Knot Only He Knows How to Tie

"That's what it felt like."

All five of his senses had prickled awake. For the first time in a long while, Woo Tae-kyung had caught the stink coming off his own body, and that too had stirred something in him, faintly. Lee Do-hee, a live grenade with no telling when or where she'd go off. That absurd stubbornness of hers. The arrogance of calling him a dog, of looking at him like some pet she wanted to own. He found himself wondering, idly, how long it could possibly last.

"Get tangled up with her and Chairman Lee, plus those three mongrel brothers who can't stand her, will line up to grind you into paste. So don't get tangled up. Smooth it out and walk away clean."

"Now that the Ant Cave's gone, it really is a hassle, I'll give you that."

Body disposal, for one thing — the inevitable kind. There were still ants who'd left the Ant Cave and made a living doing exactly that, but he hadn't used any of them in so long that whether they could still be trusted was an open question. Woo Tae-kyung's mind was already rolling down that road.

"That's on you, Jang Hee-jo. You owe me. I'm being sold off because of your resort."

Woo Tae-kyung planted the debt firmly on Jang Hee-jo's shoulders. A little insurance policy — a man could never have too many.

"Sold—?! It's not— it's nothing that vulgar, you son of a—!"

Watching him convulse with indignation, Woo Tae-kyung laughed out loud for the first time in ages. Honestly, making a person vanish from this world, head to toe, was the easiest thing on earth — but bring up anything remotely like this and the man flew into a fury, which was exactly why it was so fun to poke.

"If I'm ever in real danger, come save me. Promise."

Woo Tae-kyung said it with a smile, to his insurance policy.

"…You're genuinely a goddamn psycho, you know that? Every single time."

"Life's too boring. So every now and then, I'll bite, just like you said. Like a dog."

At that, delivered while he raked his nails viciously over the scar that had been itching and nagging at him for a while now, Jang Hee-jo just shook his head, again and again.

The moment Jang Hee-jo left the mansion, Lee Do-hee sprang to her feet and summoned Woo Tae-kyung with nothing but a crook of her fingers. At that small piece of arrogance, he pressed down the corner of his mouth — it wanted to curl up, and he was used to keeping it flat — and walked over. Truly obedient. Would she get bored of him quickly, if he just stayed quiet like this?

Somehow, Jang Hee-jo's grand pronouncements had never once come true.

"Let's hang out in my room."

"Leave the door open."

Like Do-hee's father in miniature, Lee Yoon-gyum put on a show of sternness. Do-hee didn't so much as pretend to hear him, dragging Woo Tae-kyung up to her room on the second floor. When she slammed the door shut and headed straight for the dressing room, Woo Tae-kyung turned the handle and eased the door back open a crack.

Yoon-gyum's words hadn't sounded like a joke at all.

Better to listen for now. Having decided as much, Woo Tae-kyung — even while climbing the stairs — had already catalogued the CCTV cameras and blind spots in the house. He'd scanned her room too; the cameras that ran the hallway didn't appear to extend inside. His eyes moved on their own, hunting for any camera that might be tucked away somewhere out of sight.

Convinced that that human wrecking ball would never, ever sit still, Woo Tae-kyung prowled the room slowly, like a man taking a stroll. Then, at the height of the wardrobe's headboard, in a recess carved into the dark wood, he found one.

The hallway's blind spot didn't exist in this room.

The point where the gazes of every camera mounted in every position that could have been a blind spot all converged — it was Lee Do-hee's bed.

"Woo Tae-kyung!"

Do-hee hollered for him from the dressing room.

He headed in, and there she was — a white camisole and bra already flung aside — pointing up at a hanger hooked far out of reach. There was a pole with a hook right beside her for grabbing whatever hanger she wanted; using him was simply slower. She'd asked anyway.

Her hair was clearly undyed, a deep brown tangled and clinging to Do-hee's chest.

Maybe the bra had been a size too small — there were red marks beneath her breasts. Whether her chest was so large she squeezed into small bras on purpose, or it was simply taste, he couldn't say. Above breasts that would overflow even a single hand, pink nipples stood stiff and sharp. She'd stripped and called him to be looked at, so no man alive could cross the room without looking.

"That one. Get me the purple dress."

So saying, Do-hee unbuttoned her pants.

In nothing but black lace-string panties, she turned away, rummaging for something. Or maybe — he couldn't tell — she'd turned away on purpose.

Only a single string ran, perilously, down the cleft of a white rear that peaked even more sweetly than her chest did. When she bent over the vanity on one side of the dressing room, hunting for a hair tie, even the dangerously private space between her legs was laid bare without ceremony.

She paid it no mind. Found the tie, swept her hair up high into one bunch, and twisted it with practiced ease into a neat coil no bigger than her fist. Out came a comb; she pulled a few face-framing strands loose at her temples, artlessly perfect.

"You regret not coming to the hotel with me earlier, don't you?"

Feeling his gaze on her, Do-hee said it with a slow, sly smile.

"Didn't I tell you before? Once everything's off, it stops being interesting. Or… maybe I never got the chance to say it."

Without a flicker of heat, in a voice utterly devoid of excitement, Woo Tae-kyung studied the body that might as well have been bare. Then, pole in one hand, he pulled out the short drop-waist purple dress she'd asked for.

Plunged deep enough to put her whole cleavage on display, cinched hard to the waist, and from the skirt down layered with lace upon lace that flared out lush and full. Even so, the hem didn't come close to reaching her thighs.

"So a little less bare is more your taste? You'd probably enjoy doing it fully dressed, then."

Do-hee padded over, light on her feet like a cat, lifted the hanger from his hand, and asked it like a question. Then she stepped barefoot into the dress from below, working it up to just above her breasts before turning her back to him, a matter of course. The entire closure was thin cords, the back built like a corset — the kind of dress a person simply could not wear unless someone laced her into it.

"Tighten it."

Do-hee said. Woo Tae-kyung's hands found her back. The bare skin that met his palms was flawlessly, obscenely smooth. He had to hunt down the ends to tighten anything — and, oddly, the calluses on his fingers bothered him like never before.

Dozens of cords, each one to be found and pulled taut in turn, and his rough hands kept fumbling astray across her back.

Apparently that was funny, because Do-hee snickered.

"Are you doing that on purpose? It tickles, Tae-kyung."

The moment he finally found the right cord and hauled it tight with both hands, mid-sentence, Do-hee's waist snapped straight with the cinch.

"…Tie it off with a ribbon. Something easy to undo."

"A ribbon?"

It was a word he obviously knew, but Woo Tae-kyung echoed it like he'd never heard it before in his life. The only knots he'd ever tied were the kind used to bind a person. There was no such thing as a ribbon among them, and his brow creased on its own.

"That's what makes it easy to take off."

"I've only ever tied knots that can't be undone."

So saying, Woo Tae-kyung laced her waist tight with the knots he knew. Once he'd worked out the logic of it, finding the next cord came easy.

"Ngh."

He went on hauling each cord tight, one after another, and a thin moan slipped out of Do-hee.

She reached out and gripped the post of the dressing room. Her upper body tipped slightly forward. Woo Tae-kyung didn't hesitate — he tightened the next knot.

"Ah — Tae-kyung, wait…."

Breathing in light, shallow pants, she now clutched the post with both hands and bent at the waist. The layered lace rode up in waves, baring her to below the flesh of her rear. That plump, rising curve brushed so close it nearly touched Woo Tae-kyung through his pants.

When he seized the few remaining knots and pulled, her waist — thin enough now to be caught in one hand — flinched. The feeling was exactly that of holding the reins of a young colt, and he laughed without a sound. Then, working the knot, he said:

"You know there's a camera in your room?"

"…Mmhm…."

The dressing room was layered with clothes hung high, too dense to check properly, so his gaze tipped toward the ceiling. Whether she was saying she knew or didn't, he couldn't tell. As he tightened the final knot, Do-hee let out a moan and turned only her head to look back at him.

"What exactly have you been doing, that someone's watching you sleep? Here. In this house?"

"No idea. Doesn't matter to me."

"Right. You certainly look like it wouldn't."

To Do-hee, who stripped off her clothes without a thought even in front of a man she'd only just met, Woo Tae-kyung gave his answer and let the camera business drop.

"Whew…."

After a moment's breath, Do-hee straightened her waist. And stepped toward the full-length mirror.

"Is this your taste?"

Looking at Woo Tae-kyung standing behind her through the glass, Do-hee tilted her head at an angle and asked.

"Too tight, maybe."

Woo Tae-kyung answered flatly.

Laced to its limit through the bust, Do-hee's already ample chest had been pushed so far up it was all but spilling over the dress's cups. It was obscene — the sway of them ready to pour down over the fabric at any moment. One wrong move, one bend deeper than the last, and her breasts might very well come tumbling out.

"If it's your taste, then I'll play with you just like this."

Do-hee smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing into thin, pretty lines.