What a Handful
Tae-yul's eyes burned like a fierce sun, locked on Seol-hye as she sat demurely in the very seat he had occupied moments earlier.
He had just finished enduring the endless greetings from men old enough to be his father, each of them bowing low in hopes of making an impression. Seeking a moment to breathe, he had claimed a quiet corner with a glass of whiskey in hand.
The fatigue from all the tedious formalities he normally despised had reached its peak.
Even so, he found himself pouring an interest that bordered on pathological onto her unchanging, dry face that never once broke into a smile.
It had been this way from early that morning, when she had fluttered around him with her characteristically tacky fashion sense, insisting on styling him, right up until now.
Please… let go.
The single phrase she had spat out while trembling as if someone truly meant to devour her had echoed in his ears hundreds, thousands of times, costing him sleep the entire night.
It had sounded too much like Save me, and that was probably what had twisted his mockery into something sharper.
There was no chance he would have fallen for such a cheap seduction attempt.
The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it became.
It wasn’t just talk. He genuinely wondered if she might actually prefer men. Wasn’t it suspicious how completely uninterested she seemed in the opposite sex?
Maybe the real problem was her irritatingly stuffy clothing style, the kind that made him want to strip it all away.
That was what had his head and eyes completely captured.
Or perhaps the true culprit was the pathetic part of him that sprang to rigid attention at the mere feel of her slender waist.
She had spent years rolling between his stepbrothers, both of them obsessed with reaching the top. Just how filthy must that body be?
On top of that, she was the very person who had made him an unfilial son, forcing him to return after nine years without ever meeting his mother.
Heaven knew it. His head knew it. His heart knew it. Yet that pathetic fool alone remained ignorant of all these facts.
Tae-yul swallowed a sip of whiskey packed with ice, then another. No matter how he turned it over, he vowed not to permit this interest any longer. It needed to be withdrawn.
He had just concluded that he must cut off the wasteful attention being drawn to an unqualified woman and focus solely on his duties when it happened.
She finally rose from the seat she had held without the slightest sign of discomfort and began to move.
Tae-yul emptied the remaining whiskey in one swallow, set the glass on the table, and followed her path.
He was closing the short distance between them when he saw her respond to the woman who had dared to request a handshake from him earlier.
The woman in the photograph that Manager Cho had shown him yesterday, the one touted as top-tier, was clearly one of the marriage candidates.
Yet here was the bizarre sight of the woman who had never once lowered her pride in front of him, who had offered wine without acting like a hostess, now kneeling before her.
“What a handful.”
Muttering the words, Tae-yul lengthened his stride and reached out with his long arm, seizing her wrist just before it reached its target.
“Seeing someone touch what’s mine makes that thing called patience disappear on me.”
The oppressive weight carried in his indifferent tone swallowed the surrounding air, plunging everything into silence.
Tae-yul released her wrist, letting it drop in midair.
The heavy perfume rising from the woman, whose flashy dress shamelessly displayed her exaggerated curves, smelled even more nauseating than before.
“Mr. Kang Tae-yul, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
He didn’t seem to hear Han Sun-joo’s furious voice, which was practically clicking her tongue in outrage.
Tae-yul’s burning gaze remained fixed solely on Seol-hye’s face, which sparkled as though dusted with gold.
“You do realize this is a massive mistake, don’t you?”
At Sun-joo’s raised voice, Seol-hye lifted her bowed head. Sensing the growing number of eyes on them, she shot Tae-yul a desperate look.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I was the one who made a mistake.”
“Did you hear that?”
Tae-yul let out a short, dry laugh as Sun-joo thrust her ample chest forward and pulled her hips back in an exaggerated pose.
“I apologize once again, Ms. Han Sun-joo.”
Just as Seol-hye tried to bow deeply after the polite words, Tae-yul’s long arm pulled her to his side. She barely steadied herself and blinked her wide eyes.
“People make mistakes in life. That’s normal, isn’t it?”
“What?”
She tried to shake off the strong hand gripping her wrist, but it was useless. Meanwhile, curious gazes gathered as if they had stumbled upon an entertaining show.
In that moment she quickly looked away from Kang Do-yul, who was steadily drinking, only to meet the eyes of Kang Cha-yul, who was sending her a glare full of discontent.
After peeling off each finger one by one, Seol-hye finally freed her wrist and rubbed it as she turned to face Tae-yul.
“There are too many eyes watching.”
She knew the situation would only deteriorate further if left unchecked, so she needed to resolve it quickly.
“Like the way you try to pin your own actions on someone else.”
“What did you just say? Are you accusing me of deliberately doing something petty? To a mere secretary like her?”
But as the argument grew more heated, a thought suddenly crossed her mind. Was he using this as an excuse to deliberately create an issue?
“Do you happen to have some kind of impulse control disorder?”
“What? Disorder? Did you just call me disordered?”
“It seemed like you couldn’t remember what you’d done, so if you’d like, I can show you the CCTV footage.”
Both Seol-hye and Sun-joo followed the direction Tae-yul pointed with his raised finger.
From this angle, the CCTV camera aimed directly at their table was blinking its normal operation signal.
“Let’s go, Chief Secretary An. Nim.”
The moment the deliberately emphasized honorific landed in her ear, Seol-hye met Sun-joo’s eyes. The woman’s blue-lensed pupils rolled around in utter disbelief.
It was a look she had never received before in her life.
A gaze tangled somewhere between envy and jealousy, laced with resentment.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
Seol-hye offered the still-fuming Sun-joo a polite farewell and followed closely behind Tae-yul.
She thought that, in this unexpected and pointless battle of nerves, she had somehow come out the victor.
Her heart, strangely exhilarated, slowly calmed as she walked.
Moving with quiet steps, Seol-hye finally reached Lux. She followed Tae-yul as he flung the door open and stepped inside.
They had passed the entrance hall and just reached the living room when he spoke.
“Is this why they say you should never let a dog off its leash?”
She couldn’t immediately grasp the meaning behind the words coming from his clearly enraged face.
Now that she thought about it, his steps had been unusually fast and his breathing heavy with fury.
Was he defending me? Or was that woman the one who truly mattered to him?
Han Sun-joo. The only daughter of Han-yang Construction, which was deeply entangled with the large-scale subsidiaries under Kang-an, including resorts and casinos.
A woman who drew significant attention in these circles for the marital alliance she might form upon returning from her studies in Germany.
“I made a mistake. If any unexpected risks arise from what happened earlier, I will take full responsibility.”
She had thought she handled it well.
Why hadn’t she considered that?
Given that the woman had returned to Korea only recently and was attending this event, it might very well be connected to a marriage arrangement.
Seol-hye carefully moved in front of Tae-yul, who still had his back to her, and bowed deeply.
“I’m sorry. I will definitely clean up today’s incident.”
She held the posture as if performing an act of atonement, holding her breath, when it came.
“Ha.”
The deep sigh falling near the crown of her head made her breath catch. Cold sweat slid down her spine.
It seemed she really had ruined everything.
She felt pathetic for committing the mistake in the first place and then feeling something like triumph, believing she had won.
The moment she raised her head to seek a quick solution, the face she met was achingly familiar.
“Is there any way to stop that talent of yours for driving people insane?”
It was the exact same expression he had worn twenty years ago, when he grabbed the wrist of the girl crying over an earthworm on the ground and shouted, Are you stupid?
How was she supposed to handle this crisis that kept making her vision blur?
It was so overwhelmingly exhausting she thought she might lose her mind.
Should she simply act on impulse?
Maybe it would be better to throw away reason and thought entirely and just follow her pathetic body.
If this continued much longer, her heart might burst and leave her completely shattered.