Chapter 3
Ryu-jin didn’t pay attention and walked inside.
Boring classical music filled her ears, instantly souring her mood.
Hogu, trying to act cultured, always played classical music whenever they drove. Thinking back to his overly sentimental lectures on Beethoven’s philosophy and Schubert’s love life made her stomach churn.
She couldn’t believe she had endured two months beside him. Well, seeing the amount that would hit her account tomorrow might make it feel worthwhile in hindsight.
Ryu-jin took a seat at the end of the bar. The bartender glanced at her sunglasses and the swollen bruise on her cheek, then handed her a menu.
After filming a melodramatic drama earlier that day, this kind of attention didn’t even tickle her.
She had come boldly to a fancy bar with the intent of ordering an insanely expensive drink, yet now she found herself deep in thought.
“A Scotch, on the rocks.”
Just as she made the modest order after much deliberation, a shadow fell beside her. The strong scent of perfume, impossible to forget, reached her nose.
“Ugh,” a man deliberately announcing his presence, sat on the stool and subtly gestured to the bartender.
With that short signal, the bartender politely left, saying, “I’ll have it ready shortly.”
“Are your companions coming later?”
The man spoke naturally. Ryu-jin stared at him silently. In the dim light, his sharp nose stood out.
Though sunglasses obscured the color, his shirt and jeans gave off a casual, free-spirited vibe.
Yet his commanding eyes and arrogant tone suggested an innate superiority, not mere showmanship.
The authority emanating from him seemed more natural than the expensive watch on his wrist, which probably cost more than an apartment.
“I’m alone.”
As if she expected it, the man smirked.
Like the bartender, he examined her sunglasses and bruised cheek, but unlike the bartender, his gaze had no caution.
“Doesn’t seem like someone who’d take a beating lying down.”
His searching eyes lingered subtly on her neck, as if estimating how many bruises might be hidden under her clothes.
Even from that glance alone, she could tell he had a sharp, discerning nature.
“Maybe you even enjoy it.”
Ryu-jin replied cynically, and the man chuckled.
As he bent his head laughing at something so amusing, the bartender placed a Scotch and an appetizer she hadn’t ordered in front of her.
Without explanation, he gestured toward the man—an unspoken greeting to him.
Ryu-jin stared expressionlessly at the neatly cut fruit and canapés.
“You’ve got to eat well to recover quickly.”
The man still grinned, his words teasing, as if scratching at her patience.
Ryu-jin chose not to respond sharply.
“I’ll eat well.”
It was perfect timing—she was hungry. As she picked up a canapé and bit into it, the man laughed lightly, lowering one arm onto the table.
His fingers tapped the bar gently. They were long and graceful, yet the veins on the back of his hand and wrist were strong and pronounced.
It looked like anything in that hand would crumble easily—like the canapé she had just bitten.
“Ji Woo-tae! Weren’t you going to your room?”
At that moment, a group approached from the direction of the rooms. Not just one, but several. Judging by the atmosphere, they seemed to be his friends.
They spotted Ryu-jin and glanced at her with bewildered expressions.
How many times today had this happened? She felt like an exhibit. Ryu-jin lowered her face, avoiding their gaze.
“Ah!”
Ji Woo-tae sighed shortly, lifting his head.
“My name’s been completely exposed.”
He let out a small, frustrated sigh.
She wasn’t even that curious…
Ryu-jin thought indifferently. After all, she already knew the name aside from the personal details.
“Where did Eun-ha go, and why did you come back? Did you fight?”
“I sent her up. Told her to rest.”
“Alone? Really… I could tell you wanted to be with her, so we were about to give you space, but isn’t this too much?”
“Too much indeed.”
“Is that the attitude of someone who knows it’s too much?”
No matter what his friends said, he didn’t take his eyes off Ryu-jin. He had turned his stool toward her, making it impossible for even a shameless Ryu-jin to ignore.
“So, who is this?”
One of his friends asked, genuinely curious. Ryu-jin’s heavily covered appearance only fueled their curiosity.
“Who knows? Who is she?”
Ji Woo-tae replied playfully.
Drinking quietly was suddenly so difficult. She regretted helping him earlier instead of going straight to another bar.
“Move aside so I can see her properly.”
The man who had been polite suddenly issued a firm warning. His friends exchanged glances, unsure whether to intervene.
But they quickly decided they couldn’t stop him and, with a resigned sigh, backed away.
With his friends gone, Ji Woo-tae’s gaze grew more blatant. Ryu-jin acted indifferent, sipping her drink while aware of his stare.
Her throat kept burning because of it.
“I wish he’d stop staring.”
Unable to bear it, Ryu-jin muttered, and Ji Woo-tae’s behavior grew worse. He rested his chin on his hand, staring intensely.
Ryu-jin sighed and turned to meet his gaze directly. They faced off as if competing to see who would give in first.
Ji Woo-tae’s lips curled into a smirk.
“I haven’t even seen your face properly, and my name’s already out. That’s unfair.”
He said it with an expression that betrayed no real grievance. Clearly, if she didn’t respond, he wouldn’t back down.
Ryu-jin thought, “Then ask.” She prepared herself to lie convincingly.
Ji Woo-tae seized the opportunity to start asking questions.
“Name.”
“Kim Seo-young.”
“Who hit you?”
“My husband.”
She deliberately mentioned being married, hoping his curiosity would wane.
His eyes widened slightly, then the smile deepened. Unfortunately, he seemed even more intrigued.
“Age.”
“Twenty-six.”
She included at least one truthful detail.
He hummed, scanning her nose, lips, cheeks, and jaw, as if seeing through her. Ryu-jin almost turned away instinctively.
The low lighting gave her some relief. This man had an incredibly direct gaze.
“Occupation.”
“Housewife.”
Ji Woo-tae picked up a canapé with long, elegant fingers. His perfectly shaped lips parted as he silently chewed it and spoke.
“How many of these are real?”
It was as if he could see through everything.
