Chapter 13 – “Fear”
Every time the beer can was raised and shaken in front of her eyes, the sloshing sound rang clearly in Yua’s ears.
“How much do you want? How much do I need to give you?”
It was just a single can of beer, but the moment he opened his mouth, it no longer mattered what the object was—whatever Yua asked for would become its price. That’s what dealing with Kang Ijun was like.
He had so much that these small commotions or disturbances were easily resolved with money. For someone as arrogant as him, visibly overflowing with pride, solving things with wealth was the easiest solution. That’s why nothing in the world was difficult for Kang Ijun—it all came easy.
Yua couldn’t help but let out a short, derisive laugh. She had lived with him, close enough to know the kind of person he was. That’s why his words sounded downright ridiculous to her.
“Executive Director, did you know you’re more childish than you look?”
“What?”
“You should offer money to people who actually need it. Then it would be more tempting.”
“You’re saying you don’t?”
“No.”
Her calm and serene smile unsettled Ijun. The truth he had learned and lived by was that everything in the world was about money.
As long as someone’s standards were below his own wealth, everyone was the same to him. Especially the daughter of a chauffeur who had no proper home and stayed in the servants’ quarters.
“Needing money isn’t something to be ashamed of. Acting innocent or pretending otherwise—what difference does it make?”
It wasn’t the alcohol talking. Ijun was trying to talk Yua into realizing that she was naïve about the ways of the world.
Even those who already had plenty fought over more, even taking family members to court. He and his aunt, for instance, were metaphorically slashing each other with invisible blades.
“You’re right.”
“What?”
“Needing money isn’t shameful. I think so too. But, Executive Director—”
Yua stared straight at Ijun. Her eyes pleaded with him to believe that there was no lie in her words, and Ijun, as if mesmerized, couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“I told you I don’t need it. So why do you keep testing me?”
“Yoon Yua.”
“Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Using his own words to shut him up, Yua added firmly,
“That’s a bad habit.”
He couldn’t figure her out. The gentle way she asked him not to do that completely threw Ijun off.
No one he knew had ever refused money. Yet here was the chauffeur’s daughter, Yua, dismissing it like it was nothing, and it grated on him.
What made her so different?
He bit his lower lip as he met her unwavering gaze.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
With that, he set the beer can down carelessly and rose from his seat. Yua looked up instinctively, lips parting slightly.
After Chairman Kang, now even Ijun. Hosting two unexpected visitors in one day had drained her. Before she could even ask him to leave, a shadow fell over her crimson pomegranate-colored lips.
“Mm—”
His soft lips roughly pressed against hers. Startled by the warm sensation contrasting with the cool night air, Yua’s eyes widened as Ijun wrapped his arms around her waist.
She instinctively stepped back, and he supported her as if afraid she might fall. But maybe that act of care only spurred him further—he pulled her closer without a gap.
“Ah!”
Gasping for breath, she pushed against his shoulder. Only then did Ijun finally pull away. His lower lip, now bitten hard, was smeared with a vivid drop of blood.
He wiped it away casually with the back of his hand, as if it didn’t even hurt. Then, looking at Yua’s wide, trembling eyes, he tilted his head back.
“Well, why did you provoke me?”
“…”
“So fearless.”
He acted as if nothing had happened and stood shoulder to shoulder with her. Alarmed that he might go in for another kiss, Yua quickly covered her lips with both hands.
Finding that amusing, Ijun burst out laughing, loud enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“You should’ve been careful, Yua.”
“What did you say?”
As he passed by her, Ijun murmured in a low voice,
“Like you said—looks like I’m about to pick up a bad habit.”
✦✦✦
It was a string of strange events.
The blueprints she had commissioned from architectural firms kept getting rejected. Even those who had seemed confident about the build would call back in the afternoon, saying they couldn’t take the job.
Even when she offered to pay everything upfront, they said that wasn’t the issue and hung up abruptly.
They all acted like they didn’t even want to explain further, and Yua frowned.
“Kang Ijun.”
Who else could pressure these firms, big or small, into refusing her?
He had probably threatened them—politely and legally—that there would be consequences if they worked with her.
“Haa…”
She could vividly picture the house she’d built hundreds of times in her mind. But as the days dragged on in a tent, uninvited guests kept showing up at their convenience.
“I must be going crazy.”
A shadow flickered outside the tent. She didn’t need to look to know—it was Ijun.
That lean, firm figure, tall stature, and the musky scent wafting through the zipped-up tent—who else could it be?
“No beer today?”
To block him, she had folded up the chair outside and emptied the cooler of all drinks and beer.
As a result, she had to sleep curled up in the cramped tent, but it was worth it. If it could stop Ijun from visiting, she’d do worse.
“You’re rich. Buy your own.”
Despite her cold response, Ijun chuckled. He unfolded the chair himself, sat down like it was routine, and replied,
“Things always taste better when they’re someone else’s.”
When he added that she should refill the supply by tomorrow, Yua fired back dryly,
“Have you no shame? Sucking blood from a flea.”
With exaggerated humor, he replied that he had no money. And before she could respond, he reminded her that needing money wasn’t shameful—cutting her off.
“Be generous, Yoon Yua. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be touched and delay the day you have to move out.”
Yua rubbed her temples hard like she had a headache. Talking to him made her feel like a fool.
He came and went as he pleased, and things always went his way. She hated how the atmosphere bent to his will.
Even as she kept her lips sealed and made her discomfort clear, Ijun acted like it didn’t matter.
“This place is great.”
His shadow flickered as he leaned back in the chair, tapping his toes.
“But not ideal for sheltering from the rain or wind.”
“Exactly. So don’t come anymore.”
“Why? Is it uncomfortable?”
“It’s unpleasant.”
She made it painfully obvious. He should’ve caught on by now. It was one of two things—he was pretending not to notice, or he just didn’t care. Maybe both.
Yet he smiled, seemingly satisfied with their interaction.
“This is part of work, too.”
“Bothering me is work?”
Whatever she said, he responded with a smile. The cold, distant Kang Ijun she had known throughout their marriage—whether from being overworked or by choice—was nowhere to be seen.
This version of him was so different that Yua curled up, hugging her knees.
“…Trying out the tent’s features and camping gear firsthand.”
It was the perfect excuse for someone obsessed with developing outdoor products. Shaking her head, she pulled the sleeping bag over her head, and Ijun whispered in her ear.
“That’s why I need your help.”
