TUW | CHAPTER 01

Chapter 01 

There was the sharp sound of heels in the lobby.

“Good morning.”

A woman who was passing through the busy entrance gates, where dozens of employees were hurrying by, greeted them.

She addressed one of the security staff stationed there—Jeong-hwan.

It was Woosung Card’s executive office secretary, Lee Yeon.

Jeong-hwan brightly responded to her upbeat greeting with, “Good morning, Secretary Lee.”

Woosung Card is a well-known company that is notorious for its intense competition and nearly impossible admission rate. 

A location where the elite came together, too preoccupied with their duties to stop at the gate to greet someone like Junghwan.

But Lee-Yeon was different.

Her greetings were always warm and respectful, delivered with a pleasant voice, steady eye contact, and a slight nod of respect.

Jeong-hwan had initially been taken aback and wasn’t sure how to respond.

However, he soon realised that saying “hi” to Lee-Yeon at the beginning of each day had become a habit.

He turned to watch her as she walked past the gates and stood in front of the elevator.

There was something about Lee-Yeon’s gentle, considerate presence that never failed to bring a smile to his face.

But then, Jeong-hwan’s expression darkened slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows.

Even though Lee-yeon was kind and obviously respected other people, it didn’t seem like the courtesy was reciprocated.

At the lift, a few other workers stood next to her, glancing at her from the side while whispering to one another.

Jeong-hwan already knew, even though he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

It was something he had heard several times in casual conversations.

“There’s just something off about Secretary Lee, you know?”

“I still don’t get how someone like her became the vice president’s secretary. Just look at her.”

The harsh words came back to him now as he turned his gaze back to Lee-yeon.

At a surface level, it was easy to see why people focused on her appearance.

Long bangs nearly cover her eyebrows.

Short, frizzy hair curled awkwardly at the ends.

Freckles densely scattered across her cheeks and nose, framed by thick, horn-rimmed glasses.

A large mole beside her lips and pale, colourless lips that lacked any energy.

Eyes that seemed always small and exhausted, half-lidded and sleepy.

Full-length slacks and long-sleeved blouses concealed her entire body.

Even Jeong-hwan, who had never been interested in the fashion of young ladies, had occasionally thought, “She’s young, but it’s like she has no idea how to take care of herself.”

Other employees often mocked her behind her back, calling her ridiculous-looking.

But to Junghwan, all that mattered was the kindness she showed.

And that’s what made it all the more painful to hear the names they whispered behind her back. The Ugly Secretary.

It didn’t suit the warm, polite woman he saw every morning.

Today, the elevator felt slower than usual—slower than a turtle crawling uphill.

I-yeon stared blankly at the descending numbers on the digital display above the elevator door.

She’d gotten up later than usual that morning, and even though she’d taken a taxi, traffic had already turned the roads into a parking lot.

All she could do now was wait.

Whispers.

Standing there blankly, I-yeon caught the hushed murmurs around her.

She shook her head without realising it.

“Here we go again.”

They never got tired of it—talking behind someone’s back.

even if they were unaware of her.

But I-yeon had long grown used to this kind of situation.

It always started with her appearance, and once it did, the gossip was endless.

“A secretary represents their boss’s image, right? If she looks like that, shouldn’t she at least try a disguise or apply some makeup?

She looks shabby in that outfit—perhaps it’s the oversized clothing. She needs a reality check, and someone should advise her to dress appropriately.

I-yeon calmly turned her gaze back to the elevator display.

She’d been working in this kind of environment for years, and if there was one thing she’d learned early on, it was this—engaging only harmed her peace of mind.

There was no need to shrink back or be shaken.

All showing weakness ever did was make the arrows aimed at her sharper.

Ding—

The elevator finally arrived, and one by one, employees began stepping inside.

I-yeon was the first to enter, but quickly got pushed into a corner as more people piled in.

“Good morning, Vice President.”

Just as the elevator was reaching full capacity, a tall man stepped in, and everyone instinctively bowed their heads and cleared space.

His lips were firmly pressed, his nose was chiselled in the middle of a perfect face, his eyes were cold and piercing, his hair was perfectly parted and styled, and his brows were sharp beneath neatly trimmed lines.

Wherever he went, he drew attention—though for reasons very different from I-yeon.

Do-hyun was the kind of young executive you rarely saw. 

And he was I-yeon’s current boss.

The moment he stepped in, the entire atmosphere inside the elevator shifted.

Every female employee’s cheeks flushed like they’d been brushed with peaches.

An Ivy League New York graduate. 

A face straight out of a magazine.

A tailored suit revealing just enough of the lean muscles underneath. 

Since taking over as VP of Wuseong Card, he has skyrocketed the company’s brand reputation with results to back his name.

He was, in every way, the perfect prince women dreamed of.

People joked that even the Creator must have lost His mind for a moment when He made him.

Naturally, Do-hyun’s dating life was the hottest gossip topic among the female employees.

They often said things like, “The woman who ends up with Ahn Do-hyun must’ve saved a country in her past life,” or, “There’s no way he marries anyone less than a rich family heiress.”

Everyone… except I-yeon.

Of course, part of the reason L-yeon wasn’t interested in Vice President Ahn Do-hyun was that she simply didn’t care much for romance.

But there was another reason, too.

She’d been working as his secretary for three years. 

And in that time, she’d come to realise that even someone as seemingly perfect as Do-hyun had his flaws.

Even perfection had flaws.

Do-hyun was… particular.

No, more than that—he was obsessive.

He despised physical contact.

I-yeon had witnessed his expression twist in pure disgust over the mere brush of someone’s sleeve.

Like he had been touched by a bug.

Like his body was sacred, and the rest of the world contaminated.

It made you think: Does he believe everyone else is just insects? 

Does he even see us as human?

The more time you spent in his presence, the more you began to doubt his character.

On especially exhausting days, I-yeon found herself itching to shout the truth at the women who fawned over his face and resume.

To rip off the mask and show them what lies underneath.

While she was lost in those thoughts, the elevator gradually emptied.

One by one, employees stepped off their respective floors.

When she finally looked around, only two people remained:

Ahn Do-hyun.

And her.

Ding—

‘I should say something,’ she thought.

After all, it was just the two of them.

A simple “good morning” seemed appropriate.

She opened her mouth and hesitated.

“Vice Presi—”

Do-hyun left before she could finish.

Not even a sidelong glance.

Not a pause.

Just a man moving through space as though she were a shadow.

Ever consistent—utterly indifferent to anyone who wasn’t himself.

She wasn’t trying to get his attention.

Not really.

Still, I-yeon found herself staring after his broad back as he disappeared down the hall.

Yes… No one would ever guess.

No one could imagine.

That the man who appeared in their dreams like Prince Charming…

Not only that, but she was married to I-yeon, Wuseong Card’s notorious “ugly secretary.”

And not just married—but married to her, I-yeon, the infamous “ugly secretary” of Wuseong Card.

In a contract marriage, no less.

It had all begun four months ago.

***

On a typical day.

Winter was retreating, and the first hints of spring softened the air.

And I-yeon… she was running on fumes.

Her exhaustion wasn’t from work—it was her mother.

Ever since the first digit of her age had turned to a “3,” her mom had been in full-blown panic mode.

The constant matchmaking.

The endless blind dates.

At one point, she even rebelled and ghosted everyone for a while.

But that backfired spectacularly.

The next time she visited her parents’ home, a blind date candidate was sitting—waiting—inside the family’s restaurant.

To make matters worse, the restaurant’s speciality was enormous platters of black bean noodles.

After that humiliation, she figured it was better to go on the dates and quietly get rejected.

I’ll do anything to prevent such a scene.

“Lately, it’s gotten worse…”

Hwa-yeon’s obsession was getting worse by the day.

It was as if she genuinely believed I-yeon would somehow transform into a different person the moment she met a decent man.

And how could I-yeon possibly confess to a mother like that that she had no intention of ever getting married?

Maybe I should ask I-hwan for help soon…

That thought trailed behind her as she set off for work.

Despite a draining weekend, her steps felt lighter than usual.

Almost suspiciously so.

The moment she stepped into the office, she flipped on the air purifier in the executive suite, tidied up a few scattered documents, watered the plants, and finally sank into her chair, stretching as she prepared to start the day.

Adjusting the glasses that had slid down her nose, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass.

The cluster of dark freckles on her cheeks remained, stubborn as ever.

Still, everything about the day was going so smoothly that she almost wanted to hum a tune.

“Secretary Lee.”

Even Vice President Ahn Do-hyun’s deep voice, calling her name, sounded oddly refreshing—like the delicate chime of crystal glass.

She stood the moment he gestured for her to follow and trailed him into his office.

Without a word, he slipped off his coat and hung it on the rack.

Wait… Did he mean for me to come in?

The silence stretched.

I-yeon darted her eyes around, debating whether to quietly back out and come in again later.

And then—she felt it.

That unmistakable weight of being watched.

He was already seated at his desk, observing her closely, like he’d been waiting.

And then, in a voice lower than before, he said it:

“Let’s live together.”

Just like that—one sentence shattered the peaceful, oddly pleasant Monday into absolute chaos.

What was this sudden suggestion that there was a fire but no smoke?

No. She must’ve heard wrong.

“Pardon? I… I must’ve misheard you.”

“You heard exactly right. Let’s live together.

 You and me.”

There was no teasing in his tone.

 There was no smirk on his face.

Do-hyun’s face was dead serious. And terrifyingly clear: 

You. 

Me.

And if this wasn’t a joke, then it was far, far worse.

They’d worked together for nearly three years in the most strictly professional of relationships.

Was her boss the kind of man to blurt out something this ridiculous to just anyone?

Barely keeping her rising irritation in check, I-yeon managed to answer.

“I have no idea where this is coming from, but… no, thank you. I have zero interest in marriage. And if that was meant to be a proposal—”

At the word proposal, Do-hyun’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“Let’s not twist words. I said we should live together. Same space, that’s all.”

Isn’t that… worse?!

If it doesn’t mean “proposal”, what does it mean?

Her pupils trembled like leaves in a storm.

“…”

“Even if the meanings are similar, the intention matters,” he said coolly.

Rising from his chair, he took a few steps forward and perched himself casually on the edge of his desk.

“I’m not interested in marriage either. And I’m not interested in you, Secretary Lee.”

“Then why on earth would you say something like that to me?”

At the repeated use of the word he hated, proposal a faint twitch formed between his brows.

“Because you’re the most suitable candidate.”’proposal’,

“…In what way?”

“You meet my criteria.

Presentable appearance.

And someone who’d understand my views on marriage.”

Did he just say… presentable appearance?

I-yeon turned to glance at her reflection in the office glass.

She inspected every inch—every freckle, every askew hair strand.

The ridiculousness of the offer was only matched by the absurdity of the reason behind it.

Despite her best efforts, she was unable to find anything that was even remotely “presentable”.

Pushing up her crooked glasses, she asked carefully:

“So you’re saying… my appearance is…”

“Let’s just live together. 

You and me.”

It was the first time he had said something that could only be described as… childish since she had first met him.