Chapter 10
As expected, once word spread that the agency was being sued, the few remaining clients disappeared entirely.
Apparently, the other side wasn’t satisfied with just the 250 million won demanded in the complaint. They launched a full-blown legal attack, relentless in their pursuit.
It was obvious—they intended to drive Daisy Agency into bankruptcy. Director Kwak’s wails never ceased.
Do I really need to run?
Ryu-jin seriously considered it. Ever since her mother’s death, she had lived frantically, trying everything, and had managed to save up some money.
Of course, it wasn’t enough to buy an island in the Maldives, but before she lost everything, disappearing to some remote place alone didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
Still, she didn’t want to live as a criminal.
She could survive anywhere, sure—but the thought of spending her whole life being hunted down made her weary.
Uwaaaah… uwaaaah…
As if her thoughts weren’t heavy enough, the sight of Director Kwak sobbing before her made reality all the more suffocating.
“My fate… my cursed fate… hic! I’ll be out on the streets! My Min-ji, my So-yoon—they won’t even look at their father once I’m penniless! Waaaah!”
“They only ever came to you when they wanted money, anyway.”
Even Hong-yeong’s flat rebuke didn’t stop him; he only sobbed louder.
A man in his fifties hunched over his desk, shoulders shaking like a child—he looked worse than a schoolgirl crying over a failed exam.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked at both Ryu-jin and Hong-yeong with tear-filled eyes.
“Kids, we’re family, right?”
“…”
“Answer me! We’re family, aren’t we? Together forever?”
The two women stared back at him with the same expression one reserves for the most pitiful creatures on earth.
“No.”
They answered in unison, and his wails grew even louder.
Family? What a joke.
They hadn’t joined forces for some noble purpose. It was just about easy money. Yet Director Kwak was desperately trying to find a sense of kinship where there was none.
Pathetic. That’s what he was—pathetic. The way he tried to spread his misplaced affection, claiming them as “his own,” was infuriating.
“I’m ready to sell you and Hong-yeong out and bolt at any time. So later on, don’t say I betrayed you. And you, Director—you should be looking for chances to ditch me too.”
“You cruel brat! You’re like the daughter I raised with my own heart—how could you say that to your father?”
“If you were my father, would I even have been born to swindle men the way I do?”
“Damn girl, always has to have the last word!”
But no matter how often she cut him down, he would sulk only briefly before bouncing back with a foolish grin, calling them “his kids” again.
Compared to Ryu-jin, Hong-yeong usually humored him more. But lately, even she had started reacting the same way Ryu-jin did.
Whenever that happened, Kwak would whine that Ryu-jin was infecting their “sweet youngest” with her “ice-cold virus,” as if she were spreading some plague.
Just like now.
Ryu-jin had had enough. She grabbed her bag from the table, glaring at him as he flinched nervously, and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Hong-yeong asked, sprawled on the sofa with her phone.
“I have plans.”
“You? Plans?”
The suspicion was immediate. Ryu-jin calmly replied, “Yeah, I do.”
“Hey! You’re not selling that bag, are you?”
Kwak’s voice cracked with tears. Ryu-jin glanced down at the bag hanging from her arm.
The flashy-patterned mini bag was a gift from Kwak just three months ago.
“Our star actress—have I been too stingy with you? I splurged on this, so don’t sell it right away! Carry it around! I’ll check once a week, see if you’re using it. Got it?”
Ryu-jin didn’t normally indulge in luxury. The gifts she got from her marks—clothes, bags, accessories—she always pawned off for cash as soon as the job was done.
On days without work, she looked so shabby that Hong-yeong joked she dressed like a beggar.
If only he’d given me gold instead of a bag.
She’d thought that at the time, even as she accepted the trembling gift from the miserly man.
Still, it was the first expensive gift he had ever given her, so she had let it sit untouched until now.
But with things so dire she was even considering selling her organs, she could no longer afford such pointless loyalty.
“Of course not. I promised I’d even carry it into my coffin, remember…”
She trailed off mid-sentence. Someone had just opened the office door.
“Is this Daisy Agency?”
The man who entered spoke with clipped, precise formality, as if his words had been generated by a computer.
Daisy Agency.
Everyone knew the meaning of the daisy flower: purity. An ironic name for a shady errand center that specialized in all kinds of illegal work.
When asked why he chose it, Kwak had said it was because his ex-wife’s ex-wife’s favorite flower was the daisy.
Nonsense. Then again, the reason his second wife divorced him was that he couldn’t get over his first wife.
So why get divorced at all? Like the agency’s name, Director Kwak’s love life was a puzzle of contradictions.
“Are you Miss Im Ryu-jin?”
The computer-like man’s voice was sharp.
Before answering, Ryu-jin exchanged a glance with Hong-yeong and Kwak.
Suddenly, Kwak leapt up. “Ah, you must’ve come a long way! Please, have some tea first!”
While he flailed to divert attention, Hong-yeong’s fingers slipped a fake ID card into Ryu-jin’s hand.
Whether or not she’d need it wasn’t clear yet, but being prepared was always useful. And something about this man gave her the feeling of a big catch.
“No, Ryu-jin isn’t here today,” she said with a sweet smile.
Two years in this business had sharpened her instincts. She could read a client at a glance—their walk, their tone, their eyes.
His spotless suit, his mechanical manner, his cold gaze—he looked like someone who lived strictly by the book.
A secretary, maybe?
“There’s no need to hide. We know you’re Im Ryu-jin.”
The man pulled out a card and placed it neatly on the table.
Cheonhwa Group, Vice Chairman’s Office
Chief Secretary, Cho Su-hoon
The smile vanished from Ryu-jin’s face.
