HS 4

CHAPTER 4

Seung-won entered the house, roughly loosening his tie as he headed upstairs.

That crazy woman was Seung-jae’s tenth art tutor.

She was a fairly well-known artist in the art world and had once exhibited her paintings at Lian, an art gallery managed by his mother, Seong Hee-jin, director of the Seoho Art Museum. Letting her into the house without proper verification had been a mistake.

“She’s a talented artist—she even had five works displayed in the Pop Art Collection. A French media crew came to cover it at the time. When she saw Seung-jae’s paintings, she said he had potential and wanted to teach him herself…”

Walking toward the bathroom, Seung-won unbuttoned his shirt one by one. He took off his jacket, shirt, and pants, finally pulling down his drawers before stepping into the shower booth.

Water poured down from the shower head like rain, flowing freely along the firm lines of his body. He stood there for a long time, then let out a dry laugh—it was absurd.

He knew that handling it legally would be the cleanest way.

That woman had broken into his room, taken secret photos, and deluded herself into thinking she was his girlfriend. She had been obsessively following his every move.

Even today, she had waited in front of his house, despite his early return home after a dawn meeting with the U.S. branch.

“Executive Director, our contract with Callen is in its final stage. We’re preparing a large-scale promotion. If something like this leaks out…”

He led Seoho Electronics’ mobile division, which was about to finalize a multi-billion-won technology transfer deal with Callen, a major U.S. tech corporation.

It was the largest contract in the company’s history, possibly leading to a future acquisition—tensions were high across the board.

A scandal at such a crucial time could destroy not only the promotion but also all the achievements built through sweat and sleepless nights.

He couldn’t let a single crazy woman ruin a year’s worth of work.

After drying himself and putting on a robe, Seung-won walked out of the bathroom, his face cold and rigid. Sitting on the sofa, he opened his laptop and reviewed a legal document from the legal department.

It was nearly a hundred pages long—an agreement draft detailing the pre-negotiation clauses with Callen. All it needed now was his approval.

He meticulously checked every page to ensure nothing was missing.

By the time he turned to the final page, night had already fallen. He sent the approval email and leaned back against the chair, muscles tense.

As he tilted his head back, a woman’s image flickered across his half-closed eyes like an afterimage.

“Then who are you, exactly?”
“I asked you first!”
“I don’t think I’m obligated to answer.”

Seung-jae’s tenth art tutor was bolder than her gentle face suggested. It had been his idea to hire Go Yoon-ah.

Good academic background, reputable family, and, above all, a recommendation from a trusted acquaintance.

“Director Bang said Professor Ko Seok-jin’s daughter—an art graduate from Korea University—is smart and capable. Apparently, she’s been close with Bang’s daughter for over twenty years…”

The only daughter of Professor Ko Seok-jin, a thoracic surgeon at Korea University Hospital. She had worked at Korea CNI for two years and four months before quitting due to health reasons. She’d been unemployed for seven months now.

Health issues, huh. What could have been so serious that she hadn’t worked for seven months? Her skin was pale, yes, but she hadn’t looked sick—if anything, she had seemed full of life.

Opening his eyes again, Seung-won stood up and went to the dressing room. He changed into comfortable clothes, then went downstairs.

In the kitchen, preparations for dinner were underway. Housekeeper Cheongsong was speaking to the nutritionist as she cleaned a boiled octopus.

“The new tutor’s starting next week, right?”
“Yeah. She’s Director Bang’s friend’s daughter, I heard?”
“That’s right. She’s really pretty too. We had lunch together yesterday, and she ate like a bird! Poor thing—how can she have any strength if she eats that little?”
“You should’ve told her to eat more.”
“Oh, you can’t say that on a first meeting! She said she wasn’t hungry. Oh! Executive Director, you’re downstairs!”

Cheongsong wiped her wet hands on her apron and approached him.

“Dinner’s ready. I made boiled octopus salad. Sit down, I’ll serve it right away.”

Nodding, Seung-won went to the dining room. She set the octopus salad with dipping sauce before him, followed by grilled deodeok, seasoned mountain herbs, and fragrant soybean paste soup with shepherd’s purse.

Just as he picked up a piece of octopus, Cheongsong’s earlier comment echoed in his head.

“She ate like a bird yesterday… poor thing, she barely touched her food.”

How sick was she, really, that she couldn’t even eat properly? She had supposedly quit work for seven months because of poor health.

He recalled her frail frame from earlier that day—so small and delicate, her wrist fitting easily in his hand.

The sensation returned to his palm, sending a strange shiver through him.

Why would a woman supposedly too ill to eat properly take on a tutoring job?

Still, firing Go Yoon-ah wasn’t an option now. Regardless of the contract, he had been physically grabbed and humiliated because of that crazy woman.

Hiring another tutor wouldn’t guarantee this wouldn’t happen again. The fewer people involved, the better.

Setting down his chopsticks, Seung-won rose from his seat, walked to the water dispenser, and poured himself a cup. Pulling out his phone, he opened Go Yoon-ah’s résumé.

*

Where have I seen her before?

Resting her chin on her hand by the café window, Yoon-ah sipped her iced Americano through a straw.

The woman she’d seen yesterday looked strangely familiar. Despite the black cap, she remembered the beauty mark beneath her eye and the long black hair cascading down her waist.

Where had she seen her?

Crunching a piece of ice between her teeth, she squinted, frustrated by the nagging feeling. Just then, her phone buzzed on the table.

The number was unfamiliar.

[Do-hyang, 7 PM. Reservation under Yang Soo-jeong. I’ll send a car to pick you up. Get in and come.]

Who could it be? After a moment’s thought, Yoon-ah remembered Team Leader Yang—that was her name.

She had the team leader’s number saved, though. So… could it be Executive Director Kwon Seung-won?

Sending a car to her house, making a reservation under Yang’s name—it all fit.

It was sudden, but she could guess what he wanted to talk about. After what had happened yesterday, of course.

Yoon-ah glanced at the time while chewing on her straw.

Five o’clock. She’d been touring art academies with friends since morning and had just stopped by the café. She had planned to go straight home and rest.

She’d barely eaten—a muffin for lunch. Waiting two more hours on an empty stomach sounded miserable. She decided she’d at least buy a cookie to tide herself over.

Standing up, Yoon-ah trudged to the counter and picked a cookie from the display. As she joined the short line, her eyes wandered across the café.

She hadn’t noticed it before, but the walls were lined with bright, vivid pop-art paintings. One of them—a shadow pop-art portrait on a striking red background—caught her attention.

Her eyes widened as recognition hit.

“Right. Clara Baek.”