“It’s here!”
As soon as she got to work, Jiwon grabbed the newspaper placed in front of the office.
Today was the day her favorite crossword puzzle was published. Hugging an old stuffed toy tightly to her chest, she opened the paper on her desk.
Turning her head slightly to check the office entrance, Jiwon pulled out the thickest of her law textbooks — Constitutional Law Introduction — and propped it open like a fortress.
It was a kind of smokescreen, just in case a client suddenly showed up.
She even played elegant, gentle classical music to complete the perfect setup, then fully focused on the crossword.
“A group of capitalists or entrepreneurs with immense wealth and large-scale assets, commanding multiple businesses…”
Feeling like today’s puzzle was easier than usual, she smiled and began to fill in the blank — when the office phone rang.
Worried it might be a call demanding rent, Jiwon picked up the receiver cautiously.
“Hello, this is Attorney Jiwon Dong’s office.”
—“I’d like to get some legal advice.”
The voice of the young man on the line sounded oddly familiar.
She’d heard it somewhere before, but the face didn’t come to mind right away.
—“I just sent an email too. Can we talk while you check it?”
“An email… Ah, I see it. You’re considering a divorce. What’s the reason?”
—“An affair.”
“You mean infidelity?”
—“Yes. I’m the at-fault party.”
Hearing the man’s nonchalant tone, Jiwon pressed a hand to her forehead.
These types usually fell into two categories.
One: shamelessly acting like cheating once in a while was just part of being a man. Or two: aiming for a clean split by giving the bare minimum.
Jiwon didn’t speak first. Instead, she scrolled through the list of assets attached to the email.
‘Why does he have so much property?’
The man’s wealth was staggering. Real estate all over Korea — not just in Gangnam, but even beyond Gyeonggi Province to Jeju Island. Financial assets too numerous to count.
As she tried to estimate the assets—
—“We’ve been married for just one year.”
“In that case, there won’t be much asset division. If your wife brought in dowry items, it can be settled by returning those. But, of course, you’ll still need to pay alimony.”
—“No.”
Was he seriously about to say he wouldn’t pay a single penny?
Jiwon gripped her pen tightly.
—“I plan to give her alimony, a building in the Seocho-dong legal district, and a third of my bank savings.”
“Excuse me?”
Jiwon’s eyes went wide like a startled rabbit at the unexpected words.
—“She’s the kind of woman who’s worth that much and more.”
“With that level of settlement, I think she’d agree to the divorce. Have you had a proper discussion with her?”
—“She’s not interested in anything I say.”
“She doesn’t want more, does she?”
—“She’s not interested in marriage at all.”
What in the world is going on?
Jiwon tilted her head, puzzled. And in that moment, it hit her.
She realized exactly who she was talking to.
—“To get divorced, we have to get married first.”
This freaking chaebol bastard obsessed with marriage!
She barely stopped herself from cursing out loud.
In a calm voice, she asked,
“Are you… Moon Taejung?”
—“Was my voice that unremarkable?”
“…”
—“I thought you’d recognize me right away. I’m a little disappointed.”
“Look, Mr. Moon Taejung—”
She was about to tell him this wasn’t funny and she didn’t appreciate the joke — when a notification chimed on her phone. A pop-up message read: ₩50,000 has been deposited into your account.
—“You said 50,000 won for 30 minutes, so I paid in advance.”
Seeing he’d paid the consultation fee, Jiwon furrowed her brow in disbelief.
—“These are the terms of our divorce. What do you think?”
“I already told you I’m not interested.”
—“If it’s not enough, I can offer more.”
Jiwon clenched her fist.
—“What would it take for you to marry me?”
“…”
—“Because I have to marry you.”
She repeated calming thoughts to herself over and over.
Stay calm, stay composed.
But as if testing her patience, Taejung added:
—“And then we’ll get divorced.”
“Oh my god, seriously! Moon Taejung, is there something wrong with you? That’s the only way this makes sense — causing such a scene over a marriage where you’d take all the loss!”
—“Saying something’s wrong with me…”
“Are you seriously asking?”
—“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”
His shameless response finally broke Jiwon’s last thread of sanity.
Unable to take it any longer, she screamed:
“You’re impotent, aren’t you?! You damn impotent bastard!”
* * *
It had been two days and ten hours since she shouted something one should never say to Moon Taejung.
Luckily—or perhaps unluckily—there had been no contact since the “impotence incident.” But the longer the silence lasted, the more anxious Jiwon became.
Of all people… a chaebol.
She’d spent a sleepless night worrying, and only fell asleep at dawn. As a result, she arrived at work a bit later than usual.
And there, standing at the building’s entrance, was Taejung.
Startled, Jiwon flinched.
“You’re not… here to see me, are you?”
“Yes.”
Should I run?
For a split second, Jiwon seriously considered it. But there was no guarantee she could get away. Maybe apologizing quickly was the smarter move.
Still, she felt wronged.
Technically, he’d started it.
So she decided to stand her ground.
“Come in.”
Jiwon walked up the stairs and opened the office door.
“I’m out of coffee pods, so it’s either instant mix coffee or roasted barley tea.”
“Let’s go with the mix coffee.”
Jiwon made the coffee and handed it to Taejung.
As she sipped from her own cup, she glanced at him.
He didn’t seem particularly angry. Or… was that just his usual expression?
While watching his face, her gaze unconsciously dropped… to that area.
“I’m perfectly functional.”
“W-what?”
“I’m not impotent.”
“…”
“Want proof?”
“No!”
Jiwon shook her head violently.
Proof? What kind of—
As if he’d actually drop his pants here.
They say drunks always claim they’re sober, and con artists deny everything. So by that logic, Moon Taejung…
“I assure you, everything’s in working order.”
Suddenly, Taejung spread his legs.
As if daring her to look for herself, he sat there — legs wide apart — a bold posture that didn’t suit his sharp, clean-cut face.
It was clear which side he “stored things” on.
“Here’s my medical report.”
From inside his suit jacket, he pulled out an envelope.
“Why would I need to see that?”
“Because you still seem unsure about my physical condition.”
It was like he was reading her thoughts. As he casually offered the report, Jiwon jumped in surprise, quickly covering her reaction with a composed expression.
“My doubt isn’t about your body. I’m questioning your intentions.”
Setting her coffee cup down, she asked,
“How much do you know about me?”
“Enough to know what I need.”
The vague answer made Jiwon frown.
“Enough to know what I need”?
She rubbed her palms together, then interlaced her fingers.
“My parents are gone.”
“…”
She assumed someone like the executive director of Sunil Corporation would’ve had her background investigated — family and all. But apparently not.
As Taejung’s brow furrowed, Jiwon continued in a calm tone.
“They died in an accident when I was young. With nowhere else to go, I ended up in an orphanage. I studied hard, and as you can see, I became a lawyer.”
She raised her coffee cup, then lowered it again, summing up her situation in one sentence.
“In short — I’m all alone in this world. I don’t have anything.”
She held out her empty palms.
Daring him: Would you still want to marry me after hearing that?
“So?”
“It’s not ‘so.’ I just said that because I think you have the wrong idea about me. You need to snap out of it.”
“I actually prefer that you have nothing.”
“…Excuse me?”
Even after baring it all, Taejung didn’t seem shaken in the slightest — which only confused Jiwon more.
As she sat there dumbfounded, Taejung quietly said:
