ALDA 08

Anyway  Doomed  Love 

 Episode-08 __ Ace

Thud!

Something transparent grazed Eun-hee by a hair’s breadth and slammed into the wall with a violent crack.
The sharp sound tore through the room, and someone let out a shrill scream.

Eun-hee clamped her hands over her ears, eyes shut tight, sobbing softly. Her breath came in broken pieces, her chest rising and falling without rest.

Park Kang-in changed the subject the moment Young-hoon suddenly stood up.

“So, like— who might you be, miss?”

Park Kang-in, who had been casting glances at Eun-hee with flushed eyes, slurred his words.

But when Eun-hee tried to speak, no sound came out. Her mind felt clouded in the chaos.

Meanwhile, Young-hoon strode around the table toward the exit. His long strides carried him right up to Eun-hee.

He seized her wrist. Eun-hee gasped, breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she lifted her chin. Two pairs of eyes locked in silence.

“Oh ho— is this the real Ace making her entrance?”

Park Kang-in giggled like he was watching a show.

The liquor he’d been downing nonstop was clearly taking hold. Drunk beyond reason, his tongue wouldn’t stay still.

“Cha— Prosecutor Cha,” he drawled, looking between Young-hoon and Eun-hee with a greasy grin.

“C’mon, man, clear up the misunderstanding, yeah? And while you’re at it, maybe loosen up a bit, huh? Hahaha, you know what I mean, right? Our Ace here’s gonna have to make the boss real happy tonight, eh?”

Park Kang-in’s face gleamed with sweat and sleaze.

Eun-hee felt as though a stone had struck her square in the face. And as his words kept coming, the blow only deepened.

“Why do you think I get all polite in front of this man?”

“……”

“’Cause our Ace here—she’d better brace herself, that’s why.”

He burst into grotesque laughter that filled the private room.

Eun-hee’s brown eyes went vacant.

What is this… She was dazed.

Was it really supposed to go this smoothly? She hadn’t expected things to move this fast.

She’d only meant this as an introduction—a first meeting. Was that naïve of her? Where did Park Mi-jung’s plan begin, and where would it end? She couldn’t tell anymore.

Pfft. Young-hoon let out a hollow laugh. Eun-hee met his gaze and tried to wrench her hand free.

But his grip only tightened. She let out a pained sound but didn’t fight further.

Cha Young-hoon looked down at her with open disdain.

He spoke to her, his voice low.
“Let’s go. Ace.”

Dragged along by his hand, Eun-hee stumbled up the stairs. The moment they reached ground level, she twisted her wrist hard—but he let go first, easily, as if her struggle were nothing.

She stared down at her wrist.

For an instant, the scar that had once marked Mi-jung’s wrist flashed through her mind. A chill spread through her limbs. Her knees buckled slightly. His gaze followed hers downward.

“……”

Then his eyes traveled back up—slowly tracing her curves. From her legs, to her hips, waist, chest.

That brazen gaze made heat flood her face.

He raised one eyebrow, the same look he’d always given her—mocking, unreadable.

It disgusted her. But she didn’t react. There was no point in making this emotional now.

He tilted his head, a faint, incredulous smile forming.

Maybe he hadn’t expected this situation either. Eun-hee studied him in turn.

Young-hoon let out a long sigh, tugging his loosened tie the rest of the way off. Twisting his shoulders, he shrugged out of his jacket, grabbing both tie and coat in one hand before slinging them over his shoulder.

Then he lit a cigarette. He’d always smoked like it was second nature.

Chain smoker, Eun-hee muttered inwardly.

“Now,” he said, lowering his chin, eyes on the ground, “talk.”

The tip of the cigarette flared red. He exhaled, a cloud of smoke staining the cool night air.

“What are you?” he asked, his gaze hard.

“As I said earlier, the Chairwoman asked me to—”

“She told you to piss me off, is that it? Park Mi-jung?”

“N-no, she just sent me on an errand—”

“An errand?”

His jaw flexed. His tongue rolled slowly inside his cheek, brows drawing together.

“She sent you here, dressed like that, in the middle of the damn night? Called that an errand?”

Eun-hee finally remembered why she’d come. Quickly, she unclasped her clutch. The silver beads glittered under the streetlight.

From inside, she took out a small pamphlet tied with a satin ribbon.

“She asked me to give you this.”

But Young-hoon didn’t even look at it. He made no move to take it, his sharp eyes fixed only on her.

“What could possibly be so important that she sends you here at this hour? More than that—why you, Sa Eun-hee?”

He sighed, fatigue heavy on his face. He glanced briefly at the pamphlet in her hands, then back at her.

“Sa Eun-hee.” His voice was low, rough.

“I’m this close to losing it. I could walk straight over there and ruin Park Mi-jung right now. So before that happens, you’d better explain—properly.”

His stare burned into her. Eun-hee’s eyes trembled like a candle flame in the wind.

Not an easy man. She realized again how vulnerable she’d come here.

But she had no time for regret. She couldn’t let Mi-jung get dragged into this. She spoke quickly.

“She said you had to see this today. That you’d be pleased. That you’d definitely… like it.”

She emphasized the word like. Maybe that would pique his curiosity. Maybe, once he saw it, his mood would ease.

“So Park Mi-jung told you to hand this over, huh? Fine then.”

“Then please, just take a look—”

“No. You can tell her this, word for word. Got it?”

“……Yes.”

“Tell her it’s never gonna happen. Tell her this pathetic stunt doesn’t work on me. Tell her she knows my tastes, so stop trying to piss me off. Understood?”

Eun-hee exhaled shakily. He frightened her. She realized again how far she’d stepped past the point of no return.

“And Sa Eun-hee,” he said after a moment.

Her breath came quick and shallow. He waited until she met his eyes before continuing.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t piss me off either.”

“……I’ll try,” she murmured.

He let out a scoffing laugh, stepping closer. With one finger, he lifted her chin.

Her downcast eyes slowly rose to meet his. Young-hoon stared into her face, gaze sharp and unyielding.

“I’ll try,” he mocked, repeating her words one syllable at a time. His lips twisted.

“What exactly are you going to ‘try’?”

“……I’m sorry.”

“You wanna see me again?” he asked, his voice low, almost growling.

Eun-hee’s shoulders trembled. Fear gripped her—but she couldn’t shrink back now. If she faltered this early, she’d never pull off what she’d come to do.

Gathering her courage, she answered,

“……Yes.”

For a brief moment, something in his face seemed to loosen—just barely.

“I want to see you again,” she said, steadying her voice. “Prosecutor Cha Young-hoon.”