Chapter 7
Hee-young looked Yuri over with a worried expression. Yuri couldn’t bring herself to confess everything to her.
That the one putting the orphanage in danger was Yuhan’s older brother, and what that man wanted from her…
“It’s nothing. I think I just relaxed a bit after all the tension. The orphanage issue is more or less resolved, after all.”
“Well, I guess buying ourselves a whole year instead of being kicked out right away is something.”
Hee-young smiled bitterly as she finished her beer. Yuri carefully broached the subject.
“Hey, Hee-young. I think I’ll have to step out for a bit tomorrow. I’ve got something to take care of.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“Ah, it’s about Yuhan. I’m meeting his sponsor. I might be home late.”
Yuri intended to hide her contract with him by saying that Yuhan had gained a sponsor.
Partly because the contract had to remain a secret, but also because she didn’t want to make Hee-young worry unnecessarily.
“So… could you pick Yuhan up from daycare tomorrow?”
“That’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Hee-young nodded brightly, as if to reassure her.
“Still, it’s such a relief that Yuhan found a sponsor.”
“……”
“Yuhan’s always been the one we worry about the most. But what perfect timing for a sponsor to appear, right? Things like this really make you think there’s a god.”
Yuri forced a faint smile at Hee-young’s relieved face.
A couple of hours later, after wrapping up their drinks, Yuri lay down on her bed in the ringing silence.
Just for today, she wished time would move more slowly.
But perhaps because her heart kept pounding with anxiety—
Her thoughts churned endlessly, and she ended up tossing and turning all night.
“Did you wrap up the orphanage matter well?”
For once, Seung-ah had called Shin-woo over to the house. She had even prepared dinner herself and was waiting for him. With a soft smile, she stood up to reheat the now-cold soup and asked in a gentle tone.
“……”
“Come sit. I waited for you, so I haven’t eaten yet either. I’m hungry—let’s eat.”
“……This is such generous hospitality that I almost feel unworthy to share the table.”
In all his life, Shin-woo had never received such treatment from Seung-ah.
Though he was her own son, she had treated him worse than someone else’s child—no, not even that, more like a stranger outside her interest. And now she was suddenly acting like a ‘mother.’
“About that orphanage land—I know I’m transferring it to you, but I’d like to change how it’s used. Of course, I’ll pay proper rent. I’m not saying I’ll use it for free.”
“……”
That was her real purpose.
“……Is it because you’ve handed it over to your son that you can be this shameless?”
He hadn’t expected anything from her, but he still felt a bit deflated.
“……Well, Taehwa is starting to take an interest in redeveloping that area. I hurriedly transferred it to you because I was afraid that child might get exposed… but you know, selling it would have been more profitable for me, honestly.”
If not for the orphanage, which had nowhere left to be pushed out to, she would have done exactly that.
“I think you’re mistaken about something. I’ve never settled accounts properly with Director Bae yet.”
“What…?”
“You may have transferred the land to me, but in the end it’s going into Taehwa Construction. That puts me at a disadvantage overall, even if I incur losses. And besides, resolving that land alone wasn’t a simple matter.”
“……”
Between them was that tiresome bond of blood—a tie that refused to break. And wrapped tightly around that tie was another existence.
“Let’s consider this dinner with Director Bae as settled.”
“……”
“And if you need something from me, come find me yourself. If you call me out of the blue like this again, I won’t come.”
Seung-ah’s arrogance—as if being associated with the Taehwa family gave her the right—was almost laughable to Shin-woo.
In the end, she was no more than a severed thread, drifting away into the gray sky, disappearing from people’s sight.
Once inside the car, Shin-woo let out a sigh and leaned back comfortably against the rear seat.
“Shall we head to Ichon-dong?”
Jae-ik asked cautiously.
Come to think of it, it was today.
The night he was supposed to spend with Song Yuri.
“Was it today?”
“……I’ll take you to your penthouse instead.”
“No. Go—to Ichon-dong. A contract is a contract.”
He let out a faint scoff as he said it, feeling like nothing more than a shameless thug.
He knew exactly what kind of contract it was—and how disadvantageous it was for Song Yuri.
Yet he was forcing it through with the power of someone in a superior position.
She was nothing special, and yet he couldn’t understand why this contract with her kept pricking at his nerves.
“You’re not acting like yourself, sir.”
“……”
As expected, Jae-ik spoke cautiously while turning the wheel.
Shin-woo couldn’t deny it.
Even he didn’t understand why he had acted so impulsively that day.
Strangely, everything involving Song Yuri felt impulsive—recklessly sentimental, even.
To be honest, he found her pathetic—clinging stubbornly despite having nothing to her name.
And yet, there was something about her that provoked him.
The way she desperately tried to protect Song Yuhan and the orphanage, no matter what—it was frustrating, almost foolish, and yet he couldn’t help but notice her.
Maybe she was just a bit lacking.
After all, she obediently let herself be dragged along by his unreasonable demands.
A faint scoff escaped his lips.
The news he had just received made his smile deepen.
‘Miss Song Yuri has arrived at your residence, sir.’
She had really walked into his home on her own.
Knowing full well what might happen.
‘And from time to time, you could be my partner in bed.’
When he had first made that proposal to her—
He had expected her to beg, to say she was sorry, that she couldn’t do that, and ask for different terms.
A woman who had come to his office and knelt without regard for dignity—wasn’t that much within expectation?
But Song Yuri had agreed. She had offered herself willingly, and now she was quietly waiting for him in Tae Shin-woo’s bedroom.
What kind of state would she be in as she waited?
Shin-woo recalled Yuri, drenched in water, looking up at him at the orphanage.
That was the first time he had been seized by such a raw, impulsive instinct.
An urge to reach out immediately and touch her soaked body—to grasp that pale, wet skin—had shaken the fortress of his reason.
He had never felt such desire even toward women who boldly stripped in front of him, trying to seduce him.
But beyond her shabby clothes, the sight of her defenseless, rain-soaked body had stirred something in him. This sudden, impatient desire toward such a naive woman felt unfamiliar.
He wanted to crush that soft-looking skin in his hands, to explore beneath the fabric clinging to her curves.
What would she be like beneath what she concealed so tightly? How would she react to his touch?
It was only because they had been in an open place that he had restrained himself. Otherwise, he might have already acted on his impulses.
That was how much Song Yuri was an unexpected variable to Tae Shin-woo.
That day, he had gathered every ounce of his restraint to barely let her go.
Perhaps that had been fortunate for her.
Though it all led here anyway.
“……Guess I’m no different from any other man.”
“I’m sorry. I overstepped.”
It was only after a long pause that Shin-woo responded to Jae-ik’s bold remark, and Jae-ik quickly bowed his head in apology.
Normally, Shin-woo would have snapped back immediately, issuing a harsh warning.
The reason he let it slide so easily now might have been because he finally had a bit of breathing room—and perhaps a touch of leniency.
Two years ago, after Jin Seung-je of Taehwa Construction passed away—
Shin-woo had fought off countless lawsuits, from inheritance disputes to employment succession issues.
In the process, he had faced every kind of social evil—and even the ugliest sides of human nature, including his own.
Was this what enlightenment felt like?
In any case, having resolved everything, he had reached a point where he could even laugh off a subordinate’s insolence.
But that didn’t mean everything was over.
There was still a long way to go. And it was only natural that he would feel worn out. Natural that he might need a woman.
There was no real reason it had to be Song Yuri.
It was just that a woman so naive, with eyes still clear and untainted by the world, felt… interesting to him now, when he had grown so weary of its ugliness.
With that thought, he gazed indifferently at the cityscape flashing past outside the window.
