Chapter 31. Hint

“Yooa.”

If Lee Jun hadn’t caught her, she might’ve hit her head on the edge of the tea food table while falling.

Lying on a long sofa that didn’t look cramped even for an adult, Yooa slowly opened her eyes.

Had she passed out?

“…I-I’m okay.”

The raspy voice that came out of her throat sounded awful.

“Just lie down.”

He shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder as she tried to sit up again. The thought of how it might look to others—fainting while out shopping—made her throat tighten with embarrassment.

The personal shopper, who had been holding her breath, cautiously spoke up after seeing Yooa awaken.

“Executive Director, what should we do?”

She was asking for Lee Jun’s opinion.

She too knew that hospitals were one of the most avoided places by the children of chaebol families.

There was a reason they all had personal physicians. The moment someone was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, rumors would spread faster than any diagnosis. If it was an unmarried woman—people would whisper pregnancy. If married—miscarriage. That was the kind of world they lived in.

Judging by Lee Jun’s expression, she could guess that this woman was someone precious to him.

“There’s no need to make a fuss. Quietly.”

At the weighty warning in his low voice, the personal shopper bowed her head.

“Yes, Executive Director.”

Lee Jun, knowing how much Yooa hated hospitals, didn’t want to make a scene either.

After all, it was in a hospital that she’d last seen her father—cold and lifeless—after being in a car accident and never waking up. That memory alone made it understandable that she avoided them at all costs.

“If I say I’m calling Dr. Lee, you’ll hate it, won’t you?”

Maybe just getting an IV while lying down would help her.

He could easily arrange a VIP room. She hadn’t hit her head or become disoriented, so it wasn’t quite serious enough for a hospital, but Lee Jun still wanted to do something for her.

“Can you… help me sit up?”

“For what?”

“Just help me, please… okay?”

When he didn’t respond right away, Yooa tried to push herself up from the sofa, her arms trembling. If he didn’t help her, it looked like she’d force herself to stand anyway.

At his subtle signal, the personal shopper and the staff quietly stepped out. Once the two were alone, Lee Jun pulled Yooa into his arms without hesitation.

“Please… just listen to me.”

As she let out a weak breath, her fine black hair fluttered. Even though she wanted to get up and check the shoes she had just seen again, she couldn’t refuse his plea—not when he looked like he might collapse at any moment himself.

“Then just ten minutes.”

“Alright.”

When he said he’d time it exactly and asked her to just close her eyes, Yooa’s tense body melted into the cushions.

His warm palm rested on her stinging eyes, and she could feel his gaze on her. But in her mind, she was replaying the image of those shoes.

Those shoes.

The ones made of obviously high-quality leather, with a unique square ornament—not from some common brand. Unisex style.

How could she forget?

She had seen them in her past life—at the temple where they held Sejin’s 49th-day memorial service. The shoes worn by the one who pushed her down the stairs to her death.

*

Exactly ten minutes later, Lee Jun took her hand.

He wanted her to rest longer, but a promise was a promise, and he didn’t want to lie to her.

With his support, she sat up easily and took a sip of the warm water he offered.

“Shall we go home?”

“No. There’s something… I want to take a closer look at.”

Without asking why, Lee Jun sent a message calling the personal shopper back in. She must have been waiting nearby because she arrived in less than a minute.

Yooa asked, “The shoes.”

“Pardon? Oh, you mean the Italian brand shoes?”

“How many pairs were imported into Korea? In size 245 or 250.”

They had said there was only one pair of size 240 in the luxury boutique, but Yooa wanted to know the total number brought into the country.

There were supposedly 20 pairs in total, so 20 people. Probably only half would buy them in the size she wanted.

“If you need 245 or 250, I’ll do whatever it takes to secure a pair for you.”

The personal shopper seemed to assume Yooa wanted to reserve them for someone else. But Yooa slowly shook her head.

“All the shoes need to be sold.”

“Sorry?”

“I don’t need the shoes. I need the list of people who bought them.”

That could be a sensitive issue.

Among seasoned personal shoppers, it was common to share VIP information subtly. It helped them keep up with what customers liked or disliked, recent gossip, and what to watch out for.

This was how they maintained client satisfaction and earned commissions.

“The list… would be difficult due to privacy policies.”

It was hard for her to say no directly to a VIP.

Refusing might make her seem incompetent. She’d rather be asked to find a discontinued item.

“There won’t be many names. Just the names—initials if that’s all you can give me.”

As Yooa repeated her request, Lee Jun’s expression darkened.

This wasn’t like her. She normally wouldn’t push if someone looked uncomfortable. So why was she begging?

Watching her lean forward as if ready to kneel, he bit his lip.

“Manager, how long have we known each other?”

“This year makes ten years.”

“I’d like to see you for another 20, maybe 30 more.”

“Sorry?”

“Your location is so convenient for shopping and traffic. I hope… you understand what I’m saying.”

Lee Jun was saying he would consolidate all his future shopping here.

The personal shopper trembled as if struck by lightning.

She instantly realized—this was a chance she couldn’t afford to lose.

“For such a popular high-end brand, I’m sure the buyers were already selected ahead of time, weren’t they? You’d have contacted your top clients in advance.”

Even though ads would go out in newspapers and online, the real buyers—those who’d actually wear them—were already decided.

Naturally, they would be people who spent huge amounts of money at the luxury boutiques, and sharing their names wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

“We’ll check accessories and watches next time, right? We’re a bit busy.”

Lee Jun made it impossible for her to refuse.

“Please send over anything you think would suit Yooa.”

Personal shopping was designed so customers could leave right after viewing items.

His black card was already registered. Telling her to “send it over” meant she had full authority to charge as much as she saw fit.

Thinking of her upcoming commission, she bowed to his sweet offer.

“…Now that I think about it, it shouldn’t be a big issue. Most of the 20 pairs already have assigned buyers. I’ll do my best to find out.”

Lee Jun turned to Yooa and asked:

“Happy now?”

What lingered on his mind wasn’t the shoes but how pale and colorless her face still looked.

Focused entirely on making sure she wouldn’t collapse again, he remained silent until they reached the car.

“I’m sorry.”

“Instead of sorry, I’d prefer: you’re amazing, thank you, you’re handsome…”

“…Thank you.”

After turning on the heater and making sure the warm air was blowing on her shoulders, Lee Jun finally drove off.

As the scenery outside passed by quickly, worry filled Yooa’s face.

Looking at her, Lee Jun—who felt like she had just crossed some major threshold—teased gently,

“I hope that list turns out to be worth billions.”