The one who forced down, raping like a dog. Even after I woke, I couldn’t forget that cold line: that trusting sothing like was impossible. Even as I speak now, an untraceable fear keeps crawling up my spine.
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Nothing’s ever happened to justify it.”
I lowered my gaze, forcing a smile. I worried that the corners of my mouth, bent upward by will, looked unnatural. I wasn’t hoping for anything in particular by saying it. At best, it was a stepping stone to open the conversation: I had confessed my dream honestly, so he should answer honestly in turn when I asked my questions.
“Anyway, so—”
But when I lifted my head again, my mouth snapped shut. Kwon Yido, whose expression had already seed uneasy, was now unmistakably grim. His face was drained, frozen as if doused with cold water, and he was holding his breath without moving a muscle.
“...Mr. Kwon?”
I called to him cautiously. Only then did he slowly release the breath he’d been holding. His distant expression was like the ti he had stared at from outside the bath, startled by sothing unseen.
“...”
“...”
Why that expression? For a mont, silence blanketed the table. He sat stiff and mute, as if carved in stone. I furrowed my brow and carefully ventured:
“If I upset you by saying that—”
“...No.”
His answer was slow, his eyes averted. Then he lifted his left hand, covering his eyes. The sight of him bowing his head that way filled with an odd sense of dissonance.
“It’s not that.”
His voice, low and sunken, sounded almost self-mocking. I could feel the faint tremor of his pheromones against my skin. If I weren’t sensitive, I might not have noticed at all, but sitting this close, even subtle changes in him reached sharply.
“...”
Silently, I watched him. I couldn’t see his full expression, but I knew he wasn’t well. The corner of his mouth was frozen into an awkward line, and the tips of the fingers hiding his face were trembling.
“Mr. Kwon.”
This ti, I spoke his na more gently. The fear leaking out of him was passed to , raw and unshielded. I didn’t know why he was like this or what triggered it, yet I couldn’t help but feel pity for him.
“If you’re unwell—”
“...Mr. Jung Sejin.”
He cut off. Slowly, he lowered his hand. His face looked steadier than before, but his dark eyes still swirled with tangled emotions. He blinked once, agonizingly slow, and then spoke softly.
“There’s sothing I want to say.”
He straightened his back like soone facing an interview. Instinctive tension locked up my shoulders. He had ntioned earlier that he also had sothing to talk about. Just as I had waited for this night, maybe he too had been preparing for sothing.
“Please go ahead.”
Only after I gave permission did his lips move. Words didn’t co easily; he frowned and took a sip of wine first. My eyes followed the bob of his throat until his voice finally slipped out smooth.
“It may sound belated, but... congratulations on the launch of your brand. That company belongs solely to you now, and I hope you continue to grow it well.”
“...No, it’s all thanks to you, Mr. Kwon.”
Was that what he had hesitated so long to say? My casual reply was t with a shake of his head.
“I only invested. I never touched the process. Even if you weren’t the one who started it, the company that’s been built is yours, Mr. Jung.”
It had only been a matter of months, but yes, every step had carried my imprint. The next project too, my team and I had built together.
“Do you rember what I told you? That if it felt like too much, you could just stay until you got the certification.”
How could I forget? From the mont I walked out with that certificate, the thought had lingered.
“Mr. Jung, do you want to continue at the company?”
I recalled the question he’d asked on our engagent day. His generous voice, asking if I wanted to keep working as division head. As if he would allow it, if only I said yes.
'No, I’ll comply with the terms you set.'
Back then, my answer had been decided for . I had no particular regrets, and no reason to cross him. But this ti—this ti, maybe I could give the answer I truly wanted.
“...Yes.”
“...”
“I want to keep working there.”
At my words, his lips curved. His flawless face ford a perfect smile, like a picture. Yet it didn’t look like he was truly smiling.
“I look forward to the next collection.”
Perhaps from the beginning, when he first passed the company, this was what he intended. Pretending to give ti, all the while knowing I couldn’t refuse. He had always managed to press what he wanted into my hands.
“Congratulations as well on completing your certification. You earned it while working full-ti, so whatever you take on next, you’ll succeed.”
“...Thank you.”
It felt strange. Even as I accepted his congratulations, unease prickled at . His words felt like a preamble, setting the stage for sothing else. And that sothing, I sensed, would not be welco.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“...”
I couldn’t respond. Suspicion clouded everything he said, making even ordinary words sound dubious.
“I know it must have been difficult, suddenly moving into that house. My stubbornness must have made things troubleso for you too.”
It sounded like a farewell. As if he were telling that now, I no longer had to endure it. That all the struggle was finished.
“Mr. Jung.”
“...Yes.”
My heart thumped erratically. My mouth was dry, his words humming in my ears.
“I’ve been aning to say this, and tonight seems the right ti.”
The hairs on my neck rose. Instinct warned of what was coming. I rushed to interrupt him—
“Wait, Mr. Kwon, are you—”
“I have no intention of marrying.”
The blunt words turned my mind white. Ti seed to stop, the silence ringing in my ears. Before I could even speak, his voice continued, steady and plain.
“This aningless engagent should end.”
So this was how the fear I’d carried would strike . Ever since my father’s arrest, I had dreaded this mont. Questions left unresolved, gnawing at , now answered in one blow.
“If you want to leave, you may go anyti.”
So this fine dinner was to be the end of our ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) engagent. At last I realized the source of my unease: Kwon Yido’s left hand bore no engagent ring.
***
Had I ever truly considered how long this engagent would last? I would be lying if I said I hadn’t. From the day it began, to the day my father was arrested. From the day I learned Kwon Yido’s na, to the night I first fell asleep beside him.
'Only our families know of this engagent, apart from us two. Haesin has been silenced, and Seonho never intended to announce it.'
But I never imagined it would end like this. I hadn’t expected it to last forever, but neither had I wanted it to end in such a hollow dismissal. Each syllable he spoke landed on like a staggering blow.
'Mr. Jung, you may live as if we are unconnected. Remain as the head of Sejin, study whatever you wish.'
Had he not once asked to be his lover? However offhanded it had sounded, he had admitted he didn’t know how much of he could claim. And now, so suddenly, he cast away without hesitation.
'Our engagent—these past months—won’t bind you.'
I realized the truth at once: he had foreseen this ending from the start. That was why he kept the engagent secret. Why he never told I should wear the ring.
“...”
“...”
The drive ho was silent, save for our breaths. No words, no glances. There was nothing to say, and no mood to say it in.
All the way, I pressed down the surges of feeling inside . Was it anger at our wasted dinner? Or bitterness at being cast aside so unilaterally? Or the frustration of not asking what I had ant to ask, not learning what I had ant to learn?
Betrayal. The word rose in my mind just as we neared the house. Hadn’t he once said it was for to define our relationship? Hadn’t he drawn the line, insisting this was not a contract but a marriage between us two? Whispered sweetly that I was not a subordinate, free to take only rights without burdens?
I felt filthy, like I’d been sared with filth. My stomach churned, my heart pounded like it would burst. My fingertips went cold, my chest so tight I thought I might scream.
So when the car pulled into the garage, I left him behind and ran upstairs. Practically sprinting, I went to my room, dug out the suitcase I had brought, and stripped off the dinner clothes without care. I changed into sothing from my own luggage.
I was grateful I hadn’t unpacked much. Maybe I had always been bracing for this day.
'At the very least, Executive Director Kwon won’t abandon you, young master.'
“Ha.”
Frustration washed over . Was it even fair to call this feeling re frustration? I had almost blad innocent Mr. Kim, before catching myself and burying my face in my hands.
“Ah...”
I had lost my family, and now I was about to lose the first and only person I loved. He said I could leave whenever I wanted, but it was only permission dressed as an order. Once he banished , it ant I would have to leave this house soday.
'You’re not the subordinate, Mr. Jung.'
Maybe it was the wine, just two glasses. My head spun. Packing the suitcase wasn’t the problem. But when I tried to leave the room, conflicted feelings swelled.
'Unfortunately, I’m not an object...'
'But even outside this room, I’m still yours.'
“...”
Curses I had never spoken in my life bubbled up endlessly. Saying them aloud brought no relief; I bit my lips until they hurt. I was losing reason, barely able to keep any composure.
'If it were only up to , I’d beg you to choose .'
'But you don’t have that right, Sejin.'
And who decides such rights? He had promised to give everything I wanted.
'I only did it because I was afraid.'
I flung the suitcase down. The half-open zipper spilled clothes onto the floor. Without fixing my disheveled hair, I stord out.
The hallway was pitch dark. He hadn’t co upstairs yet? With that thought, I turned toward his room. If he had ended things unilaterally, I had the right to demand why.
But as I reached for his door, a chill swept over . Almost against my will, I veered down the hall, toward the study at the end. No light seeped out, but sohow I knew he was inside.
“...”
Was this how Pandora felt when she opened the box? I gripped the doorknob and pushed it down. The creak of the door echoed like thunder. My heart hamred, and I felt his familiar pheromones on my skin.
“...”
“...”
As expected, he was there. Sitting half on the desk in the darkness, staring blankly toward the drawers without blinking.
I stepped inside without a word. His eyes turned slowly toward . The mont I saw them, quiet as they were, I felt his emotions like a heavy blow.
“...I thought you’d be packing.”
Sorrow, perhaps. Or more precisely, despair. His face betrayed nothing, but his atmosphere spoke it all.
“You must have co to say goodbye.”
He didn’t rise from the desk. His gaze held steady, unwavering. I closed the door behind and took another step closer.
“...No.”
“...”
“I simply can’t accept it.”
The anger I had montarily forgotten surged back. Raw, uncontrolled, it burst forth. All I could do was fra it as rational questions.
“Why are you ending this engagent?”
I hadn’t yet made his perfu. Our promise wasn’t finished. If I had the right to define our relationship, I should also have the right to end it. I wasn’t going to slink away—I needed to know, until I could understand.
“I just thought it was ti to let you go.”
Earlier, he’d said the engagent was aningless. Now he offered this instead. But it was no more convincing.
“You make it sound as if I were held here against my will.”
Let go? He had said before he hadn’t confined .
“It’s not wrong. You had no say at the start of this engagent.”
“By that logic, I was forced to work at the company too.”
“That’s different.”
“I’m telling you I don’t see how it is.”
The air grew tense, sharp as walking on ice. Neither of us raised our voice, but our tones cut like blades. I exhaled shallowly and murmured:
“You said you liked .”
Unintentionally, my voice trembled. He gave no rebuttal. He only turned his head away.
“You said you wanted to beg to choose you.”
“...”
“Then beg.”
Everything he did was contradiction. He had called himself the subordinate, yet decided alone and delivered a verdict. He gave no hints, refused to answer, and though he clearly longed for , he kept trying to discard as if detached.
“Mr. Kwon.”
This ti I called his na as if accusing him. Courtesy no longer mattered. All I felt was the urge to expose the filth inside —to force my sense of betrayal upon him.
“Because of you, I’ve had desires I never imagined.”
“...”
“Moving into this house, I experienced things I never dread of in my life.”
“...”
“And now you would throw away?”
It was Kwon Yido who had made imagine futures I had never dared to dream. Who had made choose what I had never chosen, look where I had never looked. If it was only going to end like this, he should never have given such sweetness.
“...It’s not abandonnt.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
Frustration burned in . At him, who even now wouldn’t say it plainly. At myself, who let things drag to this point by tiptoeing.
“What makes you so anxious, Mr. Kwon?”
He gave no answer. I hadn’t truly expected one. Two glasses of wine weren’t nearly enough to loosen such a heavy tongue.
“Is it—”
“...”
“Is it because you’re afraid I might die before your eyes?”
My outburst painted his face with shock. His wide eyes held a panic I had never seen. And I didn’t stop.
“Or is it because you fear you’d follow into death?”
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