BTCG 06

Chapter 6 …

The man looked at the woman soaking in the bathtub as if it were no more noteworthy than a cat licking its paw.

“Using your card might be risky during the tax audit. Get a refund. If you want to buy something, tell Chief Choi—I’ll have him give you cash instead.”

“I told you, it wasn’t some luxury item.”

The man, who had turned to leave, slowly shifted his body again and let out a short sigh as he looked at me, my head barely sticking out from the bath foam.
His eyes were like those of someone watching a spoiled heiress who casually buys millions of won worth of luxury goods with her parents’ money, the way ordinary people grab socks at a supermarket.

“If something worth two hundred thousand dollars isn’t a luxury item, just how much do you usually spend to decorate that body of yours?”

His eyes brimmed with contempt.
Honestly, if someone could buy things that expensive without batting an eye, even I’d look down on them.

“I’m surprised. Chairman Han is famous for being frugal. I guess he didn’t put the same effort into raising his kid?”

“President!”

The voice of the chief secretary rang out as he entered the hotel room.
Was this suite some kind of community center? Why did people keep barging in like stray dogs and cows?

“President! The owner of the investment company just called. He says he’ll sign the investment contract tomorrow!”

The man uncrossed his arms at the secretary’s voice coming from the bathroom and adjusted his posture. A flicker of interest passed over his face.

“Really? He was so firm about rejecting it earlier. What changed his mind?”

The secretary replied in an excited tone.

“It’s all thanks to you, sir—because of your good deed behind the scenes! Ah, madam, my apologies!”

As he spoke, the secretary opened the bathroom door, only to find me sitting in the tub. His face turned beet red, and he hurriedly backed out.

Madam? Did he just call me that?

As question marks floated in my head, the man glanced at me briefly before finally closing the bathroom door behind him.

“What are you talking about?”

I could hear their conversation clearly from the other side of the door.

“The father of the investment company’s owner is from Ethiopia. Their firm frequently donates relief goods and aid to the country.”

“So?”

“He said he was grateful that you shared in their cause and that he’d like to move forward with the investment. He wondered why you didn’t mention it earlier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you already donate in advance under your name?”

“Donate?”

“Yes. Twenty thousand dollars to a foundation that helps Ethiopian children—under your name.”

“Two hundred thousand dollars?”

The man’s voice rose sharply.

Listening to their conversation, I realized my secret plan to spend a large sum just to annoy him had somehow taken an unexpected turn.
The donation had actually helped him.

A wave of frustration hit me. I should’ve just bought that diamond necklace instead!

Why hadn’t I thought of buying the diamond, bringing it back to Korea, selling it, and then donating the proceeds to the children’s foundation? I mentally smacked myself.

Leaving the bathroom, I found the man standing by the window, one hand in his pocket, gazing out.

The orange New York sunset filled the glass, and his long shadow stretched across the floor—he looked like a figure straight out of a magazine.
For a brief moment, he didn’t look like that cold, unapproachable man, but someone… different.

“Why are you still here? I said I’d take this room. Don’t tell me we have to act like we’re sharing a room too?”

“Of course.”

He spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then dropped onto the sofa.

“What did you just say? You’re really going to share the room? Are you insane?”

“I don’t want to see an article about a newlywed couple sleeping in separate rooms on their honeymoon. Don’t worry, this suite’s huge. You can have the bedroom.”

The place was more like a small apartment than a “room.”
Still, having to share any kind of space with this prickly man was stressful enough.

“You can stay in your secretary’s room then.”

“I’ll sleep in the study. Don’t worry about me.”

He brushed off my words, then suddenly fixed his gaze on me.

“W-What?”

“What made you decide to donate?”

I walked toward the minibar to get some water.

Because I wanted to mess with you, obviously.
That’s what I wanted to say.
And that I was irritated things had gone in your favor because of it.
But I swallowed all of that.

“I didn’t do it for your sake, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, took a sip, then put it back.
Even as I moved, his eyes followed me.

“Anyway, seems like it worked out for you. I’ll just accept your thanks and leave it at that. I know you’d probably love to bow down and thank me properly, but you don’t have to. And you can keep your monetary reward, too.”

He gave a faint chuckle.
It was the first time I’d seen him smile, however slightly.

We’d only met at the wedding yesterday and spent today together—barely two days—but he looked much better smiling than scowling.

“So, you do want me to thank you?”

You could just say ‘thank you,’ you know.

That’s what I thought to myself.
My dad always said never to hold back on saying “thank you” or “sorry.”
This man seemed to believe that showing gratitude somehow lowered his dignity.

“Honestly, I didn’t at first. But since you refuse to, now I kinda want it.”

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately provoking him.
He studied me for a moment, then smiled again.

Then he stood up from the sofa and started walking toward me.
With the sunset streaming in from behind, his silhouette looked like the grand finale of a concert—handsome, almost unreal.
The backlight made his face hard to see, and before I knew it, he was standing close.
Uncomfortably close.

It felt like he was forcing me to tilt my head back to look up at him.
As if I’d give him that satisfaction! I turned my gaze to the side.

“You might want to look at me if you want that thank-you.”

“Just say it already.”

He laughed softly again.

“Actually, the reason we came to New York was to expand our business here—to secure an investment contract with an American company.”

I didn’t need the whole backstory.

“Thanks to you, things went smoothly. I appreciate it.”

His hand landed on the top of my head, ruffling my hair before he pulled away.

What the hell.
Was that a thank-you or a pat for a dog that learned a new trick?
Sure, I got the thanks, but somehow it made me feel worse.
Like he was tossing me a bone after whining for praise.

“Ugh. Why’d you touch my hair?”

I brushed off my head as if something filthy had gotten on it.
He looked at me as though I were the unreasonable one.

“I really hate people touching me!”

I practically invented a case of obsessive cleanliness just to vent my frustration.
I hated that I kept losing to this man, even in small things.

“Is that so? I’ll be careful next time.”

He loosened his tie, then took off his suit jacket as he walked.

“There’s only one bathroom. While I’m using it, you can use the one in the study.”

“You’re going to take a bath? Can’t you not? The bathroom’s attached to the bedroom!”

“So?”

So… it’s kind of weird, the atmosphere, that’s what I wanted to say—but it would’ve made things even more awkward, so I kept my mouth shut.

“As long as you don’t walk in, it’s fine. Not that it’d bother me if you did.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, peeling off his shirt as he went.
The sight of his bare, broad back made me jump and whip around immediately.

While he was showering, I couldn’t stand being near the bedroom, so I turned on the TV in the sitting area and raised the volume.

He said he’d sleep in the study—did that room even have a place to lie down?
Curious, I peeked in.
There was only a desk and a small sofa.
The sofa looked way too short for a grown man to sleep on.

“He’s seriously going to sleep here?”