CHAPTER 43……………………………………………
“Why didn’t you go out today?”
I cleared my throat, trying to sound calm as I asked.
The hardest part about running away was escaping Choi Hyun-ha’s eyes. He could appear out of nowhere and grab Young-in like a hook catching prey. Slipping away from him without being noticed felt even harder than getting over the mansion’s high walls.
“Just… looked like it might rain.”
Hyun-ha didn’t move an inch as he answered.
At times like this, I couldn’t help but read meaning into every little gesture of his. Why? Was he angry? Did he know I was planning to run?
It was a vicious cycle—because he frightened me, I only grew more afraid.
“Didn’t you say you had plans with your classmates?”
He didn’t talk much about college, but occasionally he mentioned his schedule.
He’d said he’d be home late today, and I’d been waiting for this day.
Hyun-ha let out a deflating laugh.
“Don’t you like being with me?”
His affectionate words came with sharp eyes aimed right at Young-in.
It wasn’t over-interpretation—he was watching her as though testing her.
Young-in chose her words carefully.
It felt like solving a riddle.
“I’m scared when I’m with you.”
Even if she tried to soften it with a coy tone, Choi Hyun-ha would see right through it.
Watching how easily he saw through every lie, Young-in had learned one thing:
A good lie always needs a bit of truth.
Hyun-ha descended the stairs. His long shadow swallowed her first, then he came closer.
Young-in pressed her heels into the floor, determined not to back away.
She didn’t want to show fear.
Besides—Hyun-ha seemed to enjoy it when she was afraid of him.
Maybe he liked confirming the control he had over her.
Maybe he was the kind of man who couldn’t tell sweet from bitter, sound from noise.
She had tried to understand his obsession in every way she could, but she always reached the same conclusion:
You couldn’t explain him with normal logic.
Choi Hyun-ha was simply incomprehensible.
An aberration.
A creature with its blueprint drawn backward.
A man who felt kindness and malice as the same stimulus.
Someone who could never know what normal affection was.
Otherwise, how could he treat someone he claimed to love like this?
“I’m just curious,”
Hyun-ha said, running his fingers through her hair, as casually as if he were petting a dog.
“What makes you think you can be so cheeky?”
The venom in his voice pierced through her.
He usually spoke softly, so the sudden chill of his tone made her shudder. Her eyelids trembled.
Young-in pretended to be fine again.
Like a small herbivore in the wild, she knew showing weakness meant getting eaten alive.
Now was the time to puff herself up and act brave.
“Because you need me.”
It was something Hyun-ha himself had admitted.
“You can’t sleep without my playing, right?”
That was her guess.
Hyun-ha looked at her blankly. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
“So?”
That short reply was as good as a confession.
He couldn’t sleep unless she played the piano.
He’d just admitted to something unreal himself.
Pulling her cardigan tighter, Young-in pressed a hand to her chest to steady her heartbeat.
Now it was her turn to name her conditions.
“When I say no, don’t touch me.
Stop having people watch me.
And let me leave this place.”
“……”
“Otherwise, I won’t play anymore.”
Hyun-ha’s expression, blank as stone until now, twisted slightly.
Young-in met his gaze, forcing herself to look natural.
He suddenly grabbed her camisole and yanked it upward.
The fabric dug into her skin, riding up so high that the lower curve of her breasts showed.
The fabric ripped with a sharp sound.
Something must have torn, but that wasn’t what mattered.
Her throat felt constricted, and she rose on her toes.
No matter how she stretched, the difference in their height was too great.
If he wanted, Hyun-ha could throw her down the stairs right now.
Her breath grew shallow. She imagined what would happen if he did—broken bones, pain, escape made impossible.
She clutched his arm with both hands, forcing her dangling toes back down to the floor.
Watching her struggle, Hyun-ha finally released her torn camisole.
Her heels slowly touched the ground again.
“You really need to work on your threats.”
The already-thin fabric was stretched and torn, barely covering her skin anymore.
“Go change. There are new clothes in your room.”
She could picture them without looking—the designer clothes filling shopping bags, crowding her once-sparse wardrobe.
Clothes she could never have dreamed of back when she lived with her father.
But there was no joy in it.
Clothes ripped and chosen at someone else’s whim meant nothing.
Silently, Young-in rose and walked upstairs.
As she gathered the torn fabric around herself, her eyes gleamed.
Everything was going according to plan.
If she truly meant to bargain with her music, she’d have done it differently.
There was a reason she had demanded everything at once—because she needed him not to agree.
She had wanted him to refuse, to ignore her.
Now she had a reason not to play.
Her eyes sank into a calm stillness.
The rain-blurred window reflected her faintly.
The sound of the rain filled the house.
The smell of wet earth lingered in each breath.
It was a gamble.
She couldn’t use the same trick twice.
She recalled the plan she had gone over in her head dozens of times.
Thunder rolled in the distance.
Young-in leaned against the window.
Haah—her breath fogged the glass like mist.
***
“I was worried when you wouldn’t eat,”
“……”
“But you’re eating well now.”
As Hyun-ha made his casual remark, Young-in forced herself to swallow the rough, dry rice.
The plates on the table were half-empty—nothing like before.
Not because Hyun-ha was sitting right beside her.
She would need her strength when she ran.
She didn’t want to be caught because she was too weak from hunger.
Even if it made her sick, she had to eat.
“Gave up your hunger strike?”
“Seemed like I was the only one losing.”
She shot back.
Hyun-ha watched her as if she were something amusing.
He’d been like this since morning.
He hadn’t gone to school again today.
Instead of driving to campus, he stayed by her side, not letting her out of his sight for even a moment.
“I don’t get why you’re angry.
Don’t like the food?”
There was no point answering. She knew exactly how any conversation with him would go.
After a few more bites, she set her spoon down.
“Please call the chefs.”
At her sudden request, Hyun-ha turned to the servant standing by the table and gave a quiet order.
The servant hurried toward the kitchen.
Moments later, three or four kitchen staff came out hesitantly and stood before him.
Young-in bit her lip.
They stood with their hands clasped politely before Hyun-ha, who was young enough to be their son—it was painful to watch.
“What seems to be the matter, sir?”
The oldest one, a gray-haired man, stepped forward.
Hyun-ha spoke lightly, almost carelessly.
“You don’t have to come in anymore. Starting today.”
“Wait—”
Young-in cut in quickly.
She’d had a bad feeling from the moment he called them, but now that it was happening, she couldn’t stay still.
“You said you didn’t like the food. I’ll find someone else.”
“No! Don’t do that…”
Her voice was desperate.
The gray-haired chef gave her a weary, pleading look.
He reminded her of her father, and her chest ached.
She pointed to her nearly empty plate.
“It was delicious. See? I finished it.”
“You weren’t angry because it tasted bad?”
Hyun-ha didn’t even glance at the dish as he spoke.
So shameless, so cruelly obvious in his intent.
But she couldn’t let innocent people lose their jobs over this.
“…I wasn’t angry. I enjoyed it. Thank you, Hyun-ha.”
She chose the answer that seemed safest, the one that would calm him.
Then she bowed slightly to the chefs.
A tense silence filled the room.
No one moved.
“You may go back to work,” Hyun-ha finally said.
The chefs, stiff as boards, retreated into the kitchen.
At last, Young-in could breathe again. She looked at him reproachfully.
“Why do you have to hurt other people too?”
“I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it.
This isn’t hurting anyone.”
“You’re threatening me—because I said I wouldn’t play.”
“Baek Young-in,” he said, smiling as if at a private joke.
“I’m not threatening you, and I’m not hurting anyone.”
His polite smile was cold.
“And I don’t even care about your little piano threat.”
“Liar.”
“Mm. Fair enough—if I said I didn’t care at all, that’d be a lie.
But it’s not enough to make me angry.
Do you know why?”
He paused for a moment before answering himself.
“Because I know you won’t be able to do it.”
He said it with certainty.
It didn’t sound like a guess—it sounded like a prophecy.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s all you’ve got to hold on to.”
