Chapter 9

As the man approached, closing the distance between them, Jae-hee thought he looked vaguely familiar.

Then she remembered.

She had seen him yesterday at Hill House.

He had been one of the two men standing behind Director Do Kang-jun.

“I am Jung Ki-won, Chief of Staff to Director Do Kang-jun.”

Apparently, he was Director Do’s chief secretary.

Jae-hee found it slightly surprising that he greeted her with such impeccable courtesy, but she introduced herself in the same manner.

“I am Han Jae-hee, Assistant Manager of the Personal Shopper Team at DK Department Store.”

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

“Not at all. It wasn’t far.”

The corners of Jung Ki-won’s lips lifted briefly before he stepped aside with a crisp, practiced movement, making way for Jae-hee.

“Director Do is waiting for you. Shall we?”

“Yes.”

As Jae-hee followed the chief secretary, the bewildered gazes of the secretary’s office staff clung to the back of her head.

And understandably so.

Jung Ki-won was the head of the Division Head’s secretary’s office.

He was also a senior member of DK Group’s Legal Affairs Department.

His position was higher than that of most executives, yet here he was personally introducing himself to an ordinary employee from an affiliated company and even taking the trouble to escort her himself.

There was no way the others could fail to be surprised.

A short while later.

After passing through a spacious conference room, Chief of Staff Jung stopped in front of a large mahogany door and knocked.

When a voice from inside said, “Come in,” Jung opened the door and stepped aside.

“You may go in.”

Jae-hee looked at him for a moment in confusion.

She had assumed the chief secretary would enter with her.

Apparently not.

Taking a discreetly deep breath, Jae-hee stepped inside.

Centered around a spacious desk covered with several laptops and stacks of documents, the middle of Kang-jun’s office featured a broad leather sofa arranged in a U-shape for receiving guests.

The entire space had a modern yet sophisticated interior.

It was somewhat similar to Hill House, yet somehow different.

Although the afternoon sunlight poured through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the imposing atmosphere of the room made it feel almost cold.

Perhaps it was because of the chilly aura radiating from the man who owned this room—Do Kang-jun.

Even though Jae-hee was breathing steadily, she felt as though her chest were being constricted.

By the time she had crossed the room, she had managed to regain some of her composure.

She stopped at an appropriate distance and was just about to offer her greeting when Kang-jun came around the desk.

He pointed toward the spacious sofa in the center of the office with his chin.

“Sit. Wherever you’re comfortable.”

Jae-hee had been deprived of her chance to greet him properly, which left her slightly flustered.

Fortunately, however, the voice that escaped her lips remained steady.

“Thank you.”

At Jae-hee’s words, thank you, one corner of Kang-jun’s mouth tilted upward at an angle before quickly settling back into place.

The moment was so brief that Jae-hee failed to notice the change in his expression.

The two of them sat facing each other across a long glass table so spotless that not even a speck of dust could be seen upon it.

Kang-jun’s gaze slowly traveled across Jae-hee’s face.

The area around her eyes was mottled with dark blue and purple bruising.

A crust of dried blood clung to the corner of her swollen lips.

Various large and small wounds marred her pale cheeks.

Kang-jun’s eyebrow tilted slightly, and tension gathered at its tip.

It was a characteristic expression he wore whenever something seriously irritated him.

But the change was so subtle that only a handful of people close to him—including Chief of Staff Jung—would have been able to recognize it.

Jae-hee felt slightly uncomfortable beneath his gaze, which remained fixed on her face.

There was no hesitation whatsoever in the way Do Kang-jun looked at other people.

Nor was he the type to look away first.

Why does he stare at people as though he’s trying to dissect them?

Even though every button on her shirt was fastened all the way up to her throat, simply being subjected to his gaze made her feel as though she were standing naked in front of him.

Jae-hee swallowed dryly and lowered her head slightly.

Then, without him even asking, she began explaining the condition of her face.

“I got hurt a little.”

“Fell down.”

When no response came from Kang-jun, the tips of Jae-hee’s ears turned visibly red.

She had assumed the meaning behind his persistent gaze was simple curiosity about her bruised and battered face.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

Half embarrassed and half flustered, Jae-hee hurriedly tried to think of what to say next.

But for some reason, the words that normally came so easily refused to emerge today, as though something were blocking her throat.

Perhaps her thoughts were tangled as well.

Jae-hee found the silence that continued to stretch unbearably difficult to endure.

Watching her silently, Kang-jun rested his chin against the tip of his index finger.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked:

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“What?”

“Your face.”

“It looked like it hurt.”

Jae-hee raised a hand and gently cupped her left cheek with her palm.

She had suddenly felt heat rush into her face without realizing it.

Despite the fact that his words contained concern, his eyes remained as dry and emotionless as though he were merely looking at an object.

Even so, she couldn’t understand why her heart suddenly began pounding.

Steeling herself against the disturbance in her emotions, Jae-hee lowered her gaze and answered.

“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s good. If it doesn’t hurt.”

After that brief exchange, another heavy silence descended.

This time, the uncomfortable stillness lasted for quite a while.

Jae-hee had expected him to say something first.

Perhaps explain why he had summoned her here.

Or perhaps say something about the two watches he claimed to have received.

But he merely stared at Jae-hee with a bored expression, saying nothing.

Jae-hee quietly drew in a breath before opening her mouth.

Because of her tension, even parting her lips felt strangely difficult.

“May I ask why you called me here today…?”

A man’s low, resonant voice cut cleanly through the middle of her sentence.

“The client file.”

Only four syllables.

Yet a chill ran down Jae-hee’s spine.

“You left it there. At my house.”

She had left the client file there?

At Director Do Kang-jun’s house…?

Jae-hee almost let out an involuntary gasp.

For a brief moment, she replayed the events of yesterday in her mind.

But nowhere in her memories did she remember carrying the client file into Hill House.

She couldn’t even remember taking it outside the office.

She had gone all the way down to the underground parking garage and searched every corner of her car, but even then, Jae-hee had already known it was pointless.

She had simply been unable to sit still.

She had needed to do something, anything, so she had rushed down there.

The truth was, she had never taken the client file outside the office in the first place.

“Why would it be there…?”

That was all she could manage to say.

Even Jae-hee couldn’t understand what was happening.

What more could she possibly add?

Her pupils trembled with confusion.

Her heart felt as though it had shrunk tight inside her chest.

Kang-jun watched her with a bored gaze before a cynical smile touched the corners of his lips.

“I’m curious about that myself.”

His voice remained calm.

“Why is a client file filled with my private information sitting in my house?”

Jae-hee met his eyes and had no choice but to swallow dryly at the chill she felt there.

Because she could vaguely sense what was happening.

His gentle, even tone wasn’t coming from simple curiosity.

He wasn’t merely asking because he wanted to know.

And this was not the time for her to plead her innocence in front of this man.

Feeling her heart pounding so violently that it seemed ready to burst from her chest, Jae-hee lowered her head toward him.

“I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

Perhaps bowed deeply would have been a more accurate description.

For a fleeting moment, Jae-hee even considered getting down on her knees.

If that was enough to settle the matter—

If kneeling could somehow make this problem go away—

Then she could kneel a hundred times over.

It was nothing compared to what was at stake.

“Your fault…”

Director Do Kang-jun repeated the final words of her statement slowly.

His voice had dropped lower than ever.

Jae-hee’s vision blurred with dizziness.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Then she lowered her head once again.

“Everything is my fault.”

It was simply fortunate that the person whose information was involved had discovered the file himself.

But the fact remained that she had allowed a client file containing a vast amount of private information to be exposed.

Whether it had been intentional.

A mistake.

Or an accident.

Whatever the circumstances, she deserved to take responsibility.

“I’ll take responsibility for—”

“How?”

Jae-hee raised her head and looked at him.

Kang-jun leaned deeply back into the sofa, crossing his long legs.

A faint smile whose meaning she couldn’t decipher rested on his lips.

Jae-hee tried to understand what he meant by the question, but his expression was so impassive that she couldn’t read anything from it.

She opened and closed her lips as she struggled to think.

And then—

A low, heavy voice fell sharply over her head.

“Are you thinking of spreading your legs?”

For a moment, Jae-hee thought she had heard him incorrectly.

Because the man sitting before her was Do Kang-jun.

The crown prince of DK Group.

DK Group was one of the most prestigious corporations in South Korea, a company trusted and admired by the public.

There were many reasons why DK Group was loved by the people.

Transparent management.

World-class technological capabilities.

Leadership that continuously pursued innovation upon innovation.

But above all, a large part of its reputation came from its spotless corporate image.

And among them, Director Do Kang-jun’s public image was particularly exceptional.

Therefore, Jae-hee concluded that there was simply no way he could have uttered such crude and vulgar words.

The only response she could manage was:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t properly…”

“…hear what you just said, Director.”

His cold voice ruthlessly cut her off.

“You heard me correctly, Ms. Han Jae-hee.”

“The words I just said.”

Without the slightest trace of hesitation, he drove the words into Jae-hee’s ears like a nail.

As if telling her:

You heard me perfectly.

So go ahead.

Feel humiliated.