MWFL 1

1. Who is she?

It was well past 10:00 PM.

The arrival gate at Incheon International Airport, which usually quieted down at this hour, was packed with an unusually large crowd.

Dozens of camera lenses were pointed toward the gate. Behind them stood a tight wall of reporters and sports agency reps.

They were all waiting for one man: Cha Shin-woo, the biggest fish in the sports world.

For four years, he had played as the cleanup hitter for the MLB’s New York Giants, earning immense love from baseball fans in both the United States and Korea. Everyone expected him to keep flying the Korean flag in the Major Leagues for a long time.

Instead, he turned down the team’s contract renewal offer this year and shocked everyone by declaring he was coming back to Korea.

His exact arrival date and flight details were never released to the media. But early this morning, news spread like wildfire across social media: Shin-woo had been spotted at the departure gate at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York.

The reporters had gathered to be the absolute first to cover his secret arrival. The agency reps, on the other hand, were just hoping to catch his eye and make an impression—his contract with his previous agency had expired at the end of last month.

Passengers from the New York flight began trickling through the arrival gate.

A restless murmur broke out among the crowd that had been waiting in breathless silence. Quite some time had passed since the plane landed, but the man they were waiting for was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, the flight captain and cabin crew walked out.

“Did Shin-woo Cha get off the plane?” a reporter shouted, unable to wait any longer.

“Player Shin-woo Cha? He wasn’t on our passenger list today,” a flight attendant replied right away.

Disappointment washed over dozens of faces all at once.

. . .

At that very same moment, over at the far quieter Gimpo Airport, people were stealing glances in one direction.

Their eyes were drawn to a tall, heavily built man who would stand out anywhere he went. He wore a mask, and a black cap was pulled all the way down past his eyes.

Is he a celebrity? An athlete, maybe?

People wondered for a second, but without recognizing him as Shin-woo, they quickly looked away.

Shin-woo strode through the airport on his long legs, then suddenly stopped.

“Where on earth is he?”

He muttered in an annoyed voice and pulled out his phone from his pocket.

“Hyung!”

Right then, a familiar voice called out from behind him.

Lee Dong-goo ran up to him, taking one big leap forward as he caught his breath, panting heavily.

“Lee Dong-goo. Can’t you move a little faster? You’re slow as a turtle. What took you so long?”

Shin-woo stared at him sideways, hands jammed deep into his pockets.

Dong-goo caught his breath and straightened his posture.

“Are you really in a position to say that to me right now? Incheon Airport is in absolute chaos!”

“Why? Did some global idol group just get back from an overseas tour?”

Dong-goo let out a dry laugh watching Shin-woo, who looked annoyingly calm.

He had been working as Shin-woo’s manager for five years now. Because of that, he knew the man better than anyone else.

An insufferable bastard who thinks he’s hot stuff just because he’s good at baseball, even though he’s prickly and completely ill-mannered.

That was the rumor about Shin-woo that had started among industry insiders and was now common knowledge among the general public.

Some called it a baseless rumor born out of jealousy toward his genius talent.

Baseless rumor, my foot. Every single word was a cold, hard fact.

Still, Dong-goo didn’t let Shin-woo stress him out too much.

Is he the only prickly, rude guy in the world? Hey, he actually has the talent, so he can brag a little.

That was how Dong-goo always rationalized it.

However, there was a completely different side to Shin-woo that drove Dong-goo up the wall.

“Why did you suddenly go to Japan? And you should have told me in advance!”

It was his completely unpredictable, impulse-driven actions—just like today.

Dong-goo had arrived in Korea a week early to prepare for Shin-woo’s return.

“I suddenly felt like eating sushi, so I went. Then I got lazy, so I came straight back. Besides, you’re the first person I told. No one else knows yet.”

Shin-woo had only called him after landing at Gimpo Airport. Dong-goo, who had been waiting at Incheon Airport, had sworn up a storm while speeding all the way over here.

“Well, thank you so much.”

Shin-woo smirked bright at his manager, who was gritting his teeth.

“The car is in the outdoor parking lot. Let’s go.”

Talking more will just make my own mouth sore.

Dong-goo gave up on the conversation and started walking.

The moment Shin-woo stepped out of the airport building, he looked up at the sky. Thick, petal-like snowflakes were tumbling down onto the world.

It was mid-November, and the first snow of the season had arrived earlier than usual.

“Oh. It’s snowing.”

“Let’s hurry before it starts piling up.”

Once they reached the parking lot, Shin-woo quickly spotted his car parked neatly in its spot.

“…”

He froze in his tracks as he kept his eyes on the car.

The passenger door opened, and a woman stepped out.

Even though the area was fairly dark, her sharp, delicate facial features were clear, likely thanks to her porcelain-white skin.

She had the kind of looks anyone would describe as pretty or pure, with a slender frame that looked like it might snap if you so much as bumped into her.

She stared quietly at him with unusually large, round eyes, then bowed her head to greet him.

Finishing his brief assessment of her, Shin-woo started walking again.

“Hello, Player Shin-woo Cha. I’m Ju Ha-rin, a director at Daol Agency.”

Her calm voice matched her polished, professional smile seamlessly.

“So what?”

Before the white puff of breath from her plump lips could fade, Shin-woo’s dry voice cut through the air.

Ha-rin’s gently curved eyes stiffened for a second.

“Who is she?”

Shin-woo asked Dong-goo right after.

“Ah. Hyung. The thing is…”

“I’ve been assigned as your manager moving forward, so I came to introduce myself.”

Her voice cut through Dong-goo’s hesitant stutter.

The smile had vanished from her fair face, but her tone remained unchanged.

“I mean, why are you taking over as my manager?”

“Because managing contracted athletes is our job.”

“And who signed a contract with you?”

For the first time, a crack appeared in Ha-rin’s calm gaze.

“Hyung. So, how this happened was…”

Ha-rin, who had been staring only at Shin-woo the entire time, shifted her eyes toward Dong-goo.

“Actually, the Chairman…”

“What? I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

“The Chairman arranged it!”

Ha-rin, who was listening quietly, let out a subtle sigh.

It was a contract Shin-woo himself knew nothing about.

“Fuck. What is he playing at?”

Shin-woo muttered the quiet curse, making Dong-goo’s face go pale white.

He was a man who rarely used profanity. That meant he was right on the verge of exploding.

“Since the contract is already finalized, if there’s been any misunderstanding, you’ll need to discuss it with the company again.”

Ha-rin’s voice broke through the tense air once more.

“Until then, I have to carry out my duties as your manager, so let me drive you today.”

Shin-woo, who was glaring at her with a scowl, suddenly let out a dry chuckle.

That’s your problem, but I have my own job to do.

Her small face seemed to say just that, completely expressionless—as if she wouldn’t shed a drop of blood even if you pricked her with a needle.

The person who had set all this up was his father.

The sheer composure of the woman who appeared in front of him on his father’s orders rubbed Shin-woo completely the wrong way.

“Where did he even find a woman like this? I knew something was fishy the moment she said she was from Daol.”

Muttering with another cold laugh, Shin-woo rubbed his eyes in annoyance.

“Hyung. Let’s just get in for now and talk to the Chairman tomorrow.”

Dong-goo, who was gulping down his nerves, opened the back door and pushed Shin-woo inside.

Contrary to expectations that he would dig his heels in, Shin-woo got into the car without much resistance. Taking a slow breath, Ha-rin opened the front passenger door.

A suffocating silence settled heavily inside the car as it hit the road.

Ha-rin stared quietly straight ahead and let out a silent sigh.

The cold gaze Shin-woo had pinned her with was filled with clear anger.

Why did they push me onto this man without even warning me properly?

She cursed the people who pushed her into this under her breath, but that didn’t change a thing.

“Manager Lee. We also changed the front door lock while renovating Player Cha’s house. There are four keys in total, including spares. I’ll keep one, and I’ll give you the rest when we arrive.”

Hoping to finish her duties cleanly, she initiated conversation with Dong-goo.

“Due to security reasons, you don’t need to share the front door passcode with the agency.”

“Ah. Yes. Understood.”

The moment Dong-goo finished speaking, Ha-rin’s shoulders flinched.

A large hand had suddenly popped up from the back seat.

“Give me the key.”

Ha-rin turned her head to look at the back seat.

The man sitting crookedly stared straight at her and flicked his raised hand up and down once.

It was a sign telling her to do as he said right away.

She pulled a key card from her bag and placed it on his palm.

“Give me the rest.”

Following his next demand, she handed over the remaining two keys, excluding the one reserved for agency staff.

“What’s your mission today? Greet me with a smiling face and safely escort me home?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

The moment Ha-rin gave her answer, the corners of Shin-woo’s lips curled up lazily. Just as the thought crossed her mind that it was an unsettling smirk—

“Lee Dong-goo. Pull over.”

A harsh command dropped.

“Huh??”

“I said, pull over.”

They were currently driving over the Haengju Bridge.

“Are you going to pull over right now or not?”

That crazy bastard is starting up again.

The unpredictable man was launching into another one of his crazy impulses.

“What are you doing? I told you to pull over.”

Flustered, Dong-goo’s eyes darted around frantically before he finally turned the wheel.

“Director Ju Ha-rin. I’m not a child, so I can find my own way home. You can get out now.”

His request was absurdly unfriendly, delivered in an unusually polite voice.

Without moving an inch, Ha-rin kept her eyes locked on Shin-woo, gently pressing her lips together.

Oh? You’re not getting out?

As if asking that very question, Shin-woo twisted his mouth into a smirk.

“Do I need to get out and hold your hand to help you down myself?”

The gazes of the two locked together, pulling terrifyingly tight.