Somehow, I Ended Up Married To A Chaebol Heiress Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The clock on the wall read 1:02 p.m. sharp.

The mont the conference room door clicked shut behind the last our legal executive, I leaned back in my chair, loosening the tight grip I had on the pen between my fingers. The eting had gone exactly as planned—efficient, precise, and with the outco leaning in our favor. But with Hwang Sera, you can never be too sure. I need to stay on guard.

Still, I wasn’t satisfied.

I turned slightly. “Harin.”

“Yes, Chairwoman?” she answered imdiately, stepping closer with her usual poise.

I kept my gaze fixed on the window, watching as sunlight slid down the side of our building. “Do I need to attend the 2 p.m. eting with Vice President?”

There was a pause—brief but telling.

“…Yes. He’s presenting the quarterly restructuring report. You requested a detailed breakdown from all departnts.”

Of course I did.

I let out a slow breath, hiding the annoyance behind a carefully composed expression. “How long will it take?”

“About thirty to forty minutes,” Harin replied. “I’ve asked him to be concise.”

I nodded faintly. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”

But inside, I was… irritated.

No. More than that—I was angry.

I’d already spent the entire weekend buried under paperwork, reviewing financial statents and revising restructuring plan myself because our strategy team had sent half-baked nonsense. The very weekend I’d told myself—promised myself—I would spend with Haemin. Peacefully. Gently.

I even rescheduled my Sunday brunch eting just to free up ti.

But instead of waking up beside him and sipping tea on the terrace like so doting newlywed, I was trapped at my desk until midnight, red-penning reports like a madwoman.

And now this?

Another eting?

At 2 p.m., when he’s arriving?

I clenched my jaw.

That morning, I’d watched him sleeping quietly in bed while I slipped on my coat. A part of —small, foolish, and uncharacteristically tender—had wanted to cancel everything and crawl back under the blanket beside him.

After everything I put him through last week… the way I lost my temper… slapped him… forced him to—

I cut off the mory before it could finish.

I’m not that woman. Not right now.

I was going to make things better. That was the plan. I wanted to be… softer. Kinder. Even just a little.

The way his face looked the other night—quiet and distant—wouldn’t leave my mind. I hated that expression. I wanted to erase it.

This visit was supposed to be the beginning.

I wanted to greet him myself.

I wanted him to see waiting at the entrance. I wanted him to feel like I was proud of him… like I was proud that he was here. With .

But no.

Because I had a stupid eting with the vice president.

Because being Chairwoman always ca first.

Even now.

I forced myself to stand.

“Harin.”

“Yes, Chairwoman?”

“When the university group arrives, make sure everything proceeds exactly as planned. Full hospitality. And…”

I paused, keeping my voice flat even as sothing heavy pushed at my chest.

“…Update imdiately if anything happens involving my husband.”

“Understood.”

I nodded, then turned toward the private lounge behind my office.

I needed five minutes to clear my head. To get this frustration under control before I lost it again.

Because when I saw him today, I didn’t want to be cold.

I wanted to smile.

Even if just a little.

________

The mont Vice President stepped out of the eting room, I loosened the top button of my blouse and sat back in my chair.

Thirty-seven minutes. It dragged longer than I wanted.

Still, I had to admit—his report was thorough. I gave a few directives, approved the revised plans, and dismissed him early. I wasn’t interested in talking more.

Not when I finally had a free mont to breathe.

And see him.

I picked up my phone.

My thumb hovered for just a second before I opened my chat with Harin.

Yuna:

How’s the university visit going?

I waited.

The reply ca quickly.

Harin:

The students are still touring the executive floor. Everything is proceeding smoothly.

I stared at the screen, then typed again.

Yuna:

And my husband?

There was a longer pause.

Yuna:

Is he talking to another girl?

I frowned to myself as I hit send.

There it is again, I thought bitterly. That awful habit. Jealousy, sharp as a knife.

I had told myself I wouldn’t do this today. That I’d be calm. Soft. That I’d act like a wife.

But the mont I pictured him standing in a hallway, smiling at so girl in a skirt and heels… the corner of my mouth twitched.

Even if it was just a classmate.

Even if it ant nothing.

I don’t care. He’s mine.

Whatever promises I’d made to myself this morning—I’d tear them up without hesitation if he was smiling at soone else.

But Harin’s response ca quickly.

Harin:

No, Chairwoman. He’s only been speaking with one person the whole day. His classmate. A boy—his best friend. Hyunjae, I believe.

I exhaled.

Of course.

Hyunjae. I rembered that na well. I’d heard it several tis.

He was harmless. Loyal, from what I could tell. Always around and close to Haemin. Never crossing lines.

I tapped my fingers slowly on the desk.

Hyunjae…

Maybe I should give him sothing. A little thank-you. A gift. Nothing too extravagant. But sothing that quietly says: Thank you for being a good friend to my husband.

Even I could admit—Haemin needed people like that. People who could make him laugh, distract him from the cold days I gave him.

I leaned back in my chair and typed again.

Yuna:

Tell my husband I’d like to see him.

Yuna:

Bring him to my private tea room. I’ll be waiting.

There was no eting scheduled now. No more guests to entertain. No foreign partners until dinner tonight.

I had ti.

Not enough, maybe.

But enough to steal a mont with my husband.

———

A few hours passed before I finally received Harin’s ssage.

Harin:

The tour just ended. I’ve already t Mr. Kim. We’re heading up now.

I put my phone down gently, but I could feel a strange flutter in my chest. It wasn’t nervousness. Not quite.

It was anticipation.

I stood slowly from the tea table, brushing my trouser with both hands as I walked to the mirror to check my appearance. My lipstick hadn’t smudged. My hair still perfect. I looked as I always did.

But inside… I wasn’t.

My husband was coming to see .

And the thought made … warm.

Then, just as quickly, my thoughts turned darker.

Harin t him first.

They must’ve walked together from the lounge. Probably side by side. Did they enter the elevator alone together? Did they talk?

I imagined him next to her, laughing softly, maybe asking about . Harin is beautiful. Graceful. Smart. And she works closest to , sees everything—my flaws and my weakness.

The jealousy rose so fast it burned my throat.

I bit the inside of my cheek and turned away from the mirror.

I’m the one who arranged this, I reminded myself. I asked Harin to escort him. I wanted him brought to with care.

But even knowing that, it didn’t make feel any better.

My hands clenched slightly at my sides.

No matter how much I tried to be better, that ugly part of still whispered: He’s belongs to you. Don’t let anyone near him.

I took a deep breath and sat back down at the tea table.

Smile, Yuna. Be soft. Don’t ruin this mont.

Then, a knock interrupted my thoughts.

The doors opened quietly, and there he was.

My husband stepped in.

His eyes searched the room the mont he entered. I didn’t look at him right away—I kept my gaze focused on the teacups before , pretending to adjust the angle of the porcelain lid. Only when he spoke did I raise my eyes.

“You wanted to see ?”

My heart fluttered just slightly.

I lifted my chin and gestured toward the seat across from . “Sit.”

He obeyed quietly, and I watched as he tried to keep his expression steady. But I saw the way his eyes scanned the room and glanced at the tea I had prepared myself.

I poured his cup without saying anything.

The scent of jasmine and oolong rose between us in soft waves.

He took a careful sip, and for a mont, there was only silence.

“…It’s been a while,” he finally said. “Since I last stepped into this building.”

I watched the way his hands held the cup. The way he lowered his gaze as he spoke.

“A lot has changed,” I replied softly, my eyes drifting toward the window.

When he asked how I was doing, his voice held warmth. I told him about my full day—back-to-back etings, nonstop reports. Then I added what I rarely said.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t et you when you arrived. I was in a eting with the Vice Chairman. It ran longer than expected.”

He looked surprised.

His face always softens when I say sothing unexpected. Like he’s not sure whether he’s imagining things. But I ant it.

I wanted to et him personally the mont he arrived. I wanted to be the one waiting at the lobby. I wanted to show him, just once, that he mattered more than all the titles on my schedule.

We talked a bit more. His voice was gentle, almost casual, and yet I clung to every word like they were drops of water in a drought.

Then he thanked .

“For inviting the university group to dinner.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “I did it because of you.”

Not for them. Never for them.

Then I stood up. My voice calm.

“Co. There’s sothing I want to show you.”

He followed without asking.

I led him through the corridor behind the tea lounge and opened the locked doors with my code. Cool air greeted us as the doors to my private rooftop garden slid open.

My sanctuary.

The space was bathed in soft golden light, glass walls on all sides reflecting the slow descent of evening. Rows of white lilies and blue hydrangeas swayed in the breeze. Callias blood along the edge of the stone path, while the faint scent of roses curled in the air.

“This is your garden?” he asked.

I nodded. “My private space.”

We walked together. Slowly. I didn’t speak much—I didn’t need to. He was beside , and that was enough.

Then… I slipped my hand into his.

His fingers tensed for a second, surprised. But he didn’t pull away. I didn’t look at him. I just kept walking, letting our steps fall in rhythm.

We stopped beneath the old cherry blossom tree, its leaves whispering gently overhead.

There, we sat on the bench.

I didn’t release his hand.

We didn’t talk about anything serious—just silly things. Little things. The kind of things a normal couple might share over coffee or while walking in a park. I let myself smile once, very faintly, when he said sothing foolish. He noticed, I think. But he didn’t make a big deal out of it.

Good.

I didn’t want this mont to be fragile.

I wanted it to last.

As we walked again, hand in hand, I found myself wishing—Just this once. Let keep him like this. Let forget the world, the company, the blood in my na. Let walk beside him like we were no one.

But reality wasn’t kind.

We returned to the tea room, and ti was already slipping away.

I heard the knock.

Harin’s voice followed softly through the glass door. “Chairwoman, sir… dinner preparations are complete. The grand hall is ready.”

I let go of his hand.

I didn’t want to.

But I had to.

My fingers slipped away from his slowly, lingering just a second longer than necessary. I composed myself, standing tall.

“Thank you, Harin,” I replied evenly.

Then I turned toward him.

“Let’s go,” I said quietly.

He nodded.

We walked out of the tea room, side by side once again—but with a small, invisible space between us now.

I told myself I’d see him again tonight at ho. That this wasn’t the last chance.

But deep down… I feared it.

Because once we’re back ho, I don’t know if I can stop myself from becoming the woman I promised not to be.

And I’m afraid—one day—he might stop forgiving .

And if that happens…

I might beco the woman he fears the most.

And I won’t hesitate.

I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.

And If I have to keep him by force—

Then I will.