Chapter 8
From the moment she suddenly begged them—without any discussion—to anonymously upload the audio file, something had seemed off.
Then, less than five minutes after it went up, she pleaded for it to be taken down. After that, her contact became sporadic.
That should’ve been the moment to cut things clean.
But instead of trusting her instincts, Ryu-jin had listened to Ki-hwan’s naive suggestion—coming from the so-called director of an errand center, no less—that they should just wait and see.
“Damn it…”
The complaint papers fluttered in the breeze, and for a brief moment, she wanted to just let them go.
Just then, the creak of the iron door echoed. Ryu-jin turned around. Hong-yeong stepped onto the rooftop, a cigarette dangling crookedly from his lips.
Spotting her leaning against the railing, he strode over. His hair, grown long to the nape of his neck in the name of a “style change,” whipped around him in the wind, giving him a delinquent air.
“Got a light, noona?”
He held out his pack. Ryu-jin was about to refuse but changed her mind and plucked one out.
When she cupped her hand to shield it, Hong-yeong flicked his lighter, sparking a flame.
“Guess you’re feeling like crap too, huh?”
She answered only with a long drag and a slow exhale. Hong-yeong chuckled.
“Regretting getting involved?”
Truth be told, she bore some fault as well.
It should’ve ended with just gathering evidence of the affair. But on her own, she had tried to bait that bastard.
Why? She couldn’t really say. She just… wanted to crush him.
Men’s desires were always insultingly simple, clear, and predictable. It was the easiest thing in the world to use them.
Whether they went for the type who resisted a little or the type who gave in too quickly—either way, it was just a matter of time.
As expected, that trash turned out to be the latter. Like all the other fools, it would only have taken a bit longer before he fell right into her hand.
But Min Hae-won ruined everything by spilling too much, and as a result, Ryu-jin’s cover was blown too.
The price: this massive compensation claim.
“Adding fuel to the fire, huh?”
Even thinking about it again made her scowl.
“Don’t worry, noona. Between Ki-hwan and me, if we scrape everything together, we’ll just barely make it.”
“…You have money?”
Her suspicious tone made Hong-yeong grin.
“I told you—I’ve got savings.”
When he smiled, his narrow eyes curved into sharp lines. Right, she remembered, he was always popular with older women. But she looked at him with no joy and muttered:
“I don’t want you spending money you earned like that.”
“Wow, harsh. I didn’t sell my heart like you did, you know?”
“As if that was ever about love.”
She let out a dry laugh, and Hong-yeong puffed his cheeks with smoke in mock offense.
Ryu-jin pushed her hair back, resting her arms on the railing. Above, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue, utterly ignorant of human misery.
Staring up at it, she spoke in a low voice.
“Save your money. Once I-yeong is discharged, you’re going to need it.”
“…”
She felt his gaze on her cheek. Silence stretched between them.
Ryu-jin took one last deep drag, then flicked the cigarette away. Acrid smoke burned through her lungs.
Then, out of nowhere—
“Noona, what if we just ran off overseas together?”
She thought he was joking, but his face was serious.
Though it wasn’t the first time he had pulled this “serious act.” She deflected lightly.
“Sure. You and I, scamming men and women for a living—that’d be fun.”
“See? There you go, stomping on a man’s pure heart again.”
He pretended to sob theatrically, making it impossible to dislike him.
Despite his rough style and big frame, his face was actually rather handsome. That, paired with his reckless charm, meant there were always women chasing after him.
Yet when it came to his little sister I-yeong, he was nothing but devoted.
His mother had been forced out of work to care for her, and his father had long since abandoned the family. That left Hong-yeong as the household’s real breadwinner.
People mistook him for a layabout, but when it came to his family, he was fiercely responsible. Sometimes Ryu-jin even found herself picturing him settled down someday, living in quiet domestic bliss.
“Are you going to get married someday?”
She asked abruptly. Though unexpected, Hong-yeong answered without hesitation.
“I’m only twenty-five. Do I have to think about that already?”
“Men usually want to marry early.”
“Maybe. My mom’s already panicking I’ll never get married, but honestly? I don’t care. What I do want is a kid. I think it’d be fun, raising a little version of me.”
Like you’re the one who’d give birth to it.
Ryu-jin bit back the retort. Instead, Hong-yeong teased:
“What, you offering, noona?”
She snorted, grinding out her cigarette on the wall.
“For now, we need to lay low.”
She rolled up the complaint papers in her hand, feeling the urge to smash them into that bastard’s jaw. But that would only get her slapped with an assault charge on top of everything else.
“No need to lay low. Once word spreads that we’ve been sued, the office will be empty anyway.”
He wasn’t wrong.
For a moment, silence. Then suddenly—
“Arghhh!”
Ryu-jin shouted, startling Hong-yeong so badly he dropped his cigarette.
“Goddamn it…”
Her furious curse tore free. Another lesson carved itself into her mind: pity was the most useless emotion in the world.
“If we counter-sue, we’re screwed, right?”
“Of course we are.”
All those clauses about confidentiality, about non-cancellation—they were worthless.
She should never have gotten involved. Regret lined up one after another.
And still, Director Kwak believed Min Hae-won had only revealed the truth because her husband forced her. What a fool.
Whether it was true or not, what difference did it make now?
[Sorry.
10,000,000 won]
A single-line apology in the deposit description. As if that could cover this disaster.
The ten million won deposit had arrived, yes, but it meant nothing. What did it matter when they were facing a payout worth dozens of times more?
“Relax, noona. Relax.”
Hong-yeong clapped her on the shoulder as she clawed at her hair.
“It’ll work out somehow. You’ve got great instincts. Worst case, we ditch everything, run abroad, and dump it all on Director Kwak.”
He wasn’t wrong. She did have good instincts. And ignoring them, taking this request anyway—maybe the blame was hers more than anyone’s.
If only it hadn’t been for those bruises on her arm.
If only it hadn’t been for that face.
A face that looked ready to crumble at any moment, as though life itself could be snuffed out without leaving a trace.
Fragile, like a dry autumn leaf that would shatter at the slightest touch.
“I really do love him…”
If only she hadn’t said that.
“…”
And that was why Ryu-jin hated weak women more than anything in the world.
