Chapter 5
“Choose—her or me.”
Her thin eyelids fluttered, but no matter how long she waited, she felt nothing.
The suffocating touch of lips, the thrilling brush of breath—none of it reached her.
It was foolish to just keep her eyes closed like this.
Because that would truly make it seem like she wanted him to kiss her.
What should she do? What should she do?
Junhee opened her eyes just slightly—and immediately, they widened like a rabbit’s.
“…!”
It wasn’t the proximity of his lips that startled her.
Beneath thick, dense lashes, Lee Joon’s languid gaze was fixed on her.
Carefully observing her reaction, mischievously entertained.
“Thunk.”
As if to prove it, a breath escaped between his lips, tickling the tender membranes of hers.
The conclusion was clear: she’d been tricked again.
By his fake, tantalizing approach that promised a kiss but never delivered.
And yet, she had fallen for it.
“—Step aside while I’m talking.”
Junhee’s lashes trembled with indignation, her eyes tilting sharply upward.
“Really, you should give me a proper kiss… Ugh!”
With a pained whimper, Lee Joon stepped back.
She had been about to go out to buy a bandage for the blister forming on her heel from the new high heels.
Regret washed over her—why wear heels and suffer when she could have just worn flats?
Yet today, wearing the heels was surprisingly fortuitous.
Even if her heel bled, she could properly punish this irritating, mischievous man.
He might not bleed, but he would certainly have a bruise of shame.
“You should listen when someone tells you to move.”
“And who taught you this?”
“Do I really need lessons for this? Wearing heels to fend off mischievous perverts is instinct for women.”
Her delicate eyes, now devoid of their usual playful sparkle, were filled with pain.
“And if you’re not actually going to kiss me, don’t shove your lips in my face like that. You look so… frivolous.”
Even in anger, her beauty made a strange thrill rise within her.
She felt a subtle, confident sense that today, she might actually win.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Junhee smiled brightly.
“Answer me. Are you moving, or not?”
“Oh really?”
“We have unfinished business, don’t we?”
Junhee’s audacious, shameless declaration seemed to amuse him.
Lee Joon finally let out a small chuckle.
Then, silently, he removed his jacket and offered it to her.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“Tie it around your waist. Your skirt is too short.”
Beneath the cool exterior, he had a surprisingly principled side.
“Though I suppose it’s fun to give you a good show too.”
The threat of before replaced by that easy, sly smile of his.
“Lee Joon, I think you talk a lot more than you act, don’t you?”
“Want me to show you?”
Her laughter followed his playful tease.
Even though he’d be teasing, he was cleverly enjoying the game alone.
“Then you should just go upstairs first.”
“If your heel slips, or you stumble down the stairs…”
“…!”
“I’d have to catch you in style, wouldn’t I?”
“…How did you know?”
His languid gaze drifted toward her heels.
She hadn’t even realized she was nervously shifting her foot from the pain.
“Do you think I wouldn’t notice that?”
Lee Joon wasn’t just beautiful—his manners were meticulous, flawless.
“So, shall we go upstairs now?”
Blushing, Junhee climbed the stairs, thinking:
Lee Joon would beat even Casanova in charm.
Three documents were held in his long, firm fingers.
A notarized contract, transformed from a decade-old child’s prank.
A deed verifying the owner of the villa in Yangpyeong.
And, finally, a self-drafted set of marriage conditions.
Junhee watched him scrutinize them with a calm, precise gaze, feeling unfamiliarity at how stern he looked.
With his smile gone, his lips pressed stubbornly together, cold and rigid.
A carefree laugh would’ve been far better.
“You’ll hand over the papers if we marry?”
“Yes. Including the villa in Yangpyeong.”
Nodding vigorously, his eyes sparkled with the challenge: Could you really refuse me?
“Deja vu, huh.”
“Not deja vu. Right now, I’m ‘A’, and Lee Joon is ‘B’.”
Junhee’s cheerful, almost mischievous smile reminded her of her father, Seokhun’s.
“What if I refuse?”
“I might sell it for next to nothing—or build a luxury pension on the villa.”
“Do you even have that kind of money?”
“The location is prime. Investment will cover it.”
Lee Joon’s eyes narrowed sharply at her effortless answers.
The Yangpyeong villa wasn’t just any place—it was a treasured memory of his mother, carefully surrounded by walking paths he’d commissioned.
Seokhun knew exactly what the villa meant to Lee Joon, and yet he had handed it over.
Moreover, the reason Seokhun pushed the marriage was a ridiculous claim by a fortune teller.
Lee Joon’s daily life was disrupted by nightmares, a trauma medical science couldn’t fix.
And this little girl was supposed to ‘fix’ that?
“How much did your father offer? I can give more.”
His voice was gentle, persuasive.
“I might consider it if you offer all your assets.”
“Big scale, huh.”
“If I want to betray the man who has watched over me for years? Not a chance.”
“So, just sign a contract for all your assets?”
Junhee screamed at the audacity of his casual words.
“Don’t joke with that serious face! That’s cruel!”
“I never joke about serious matters.”
“You expect me to believe you’ll give all your assets?”
He smiled calmly.
“Money is nothing to me. I earn it easily, spend it easily. Creating from nothing? That’s the hard part.”
“Okay, you’re smart, capable—perfect in every way. But…”
Junhee met his eyes, firm and unwavering.
“Why aren’t you happy?”
It hit harder than a physical blow. Her words struck his heart, not his mind.
“I’m happy,” she could not admit.
Instead, she subtly hid her own tremor beneath a composed smile, challenging him with words.
“And you? Are you happy?”
“I’ve lived ten years less than Lee Joon, faced hardships, had nothing, worked my fingers to the bone.”
“….”
“Yet, even with hardships, I’m happy.”
Unlike him, her words flowed effortlessly.
“Because nothing came easy, I know how sweet it is to fight for what I want. And sacrificing for someone I love? That’s happiness too.”
Her words hit him like a punch—heart over mind.
“Money is convenient, but life goes on without it. And some things in life money can’t buy. Though I doubt you’d understand.”
Eyes are mirrors to the soul, and hers shone perfectly clear.
“Do you understand? Even if Lee Joon gave you everything.”
Her bold words contrasted her trembling fists under the table.
Lee Joon is suffering more than anyone realizes.
The fortune teller said only Junhee can ease his suffering, even if it’s ridiculous.
Seokhun’s worry for his son was desperate and raw.
Junhee remembered Geunseok.
If she could fill the void of her grandfather’s fading memories with happiness…
“I won’t give up the Yangpyeong villa.”
I must marry you.
“And don’t blame him. I’m the one demanding the villa now, after all these ten years.”
Living for those you love, not yourself—that’s true happiness. Lee Joon would never understand.
“My father worries and loves you that much.”
Instead of rehearsed lines, she spoke from her heart.
Finally, Lee Joon, silent and unreadable, spoke calmly:
“Why do you think my father chose you, an ordinary girl, to marry Haeseong?”
Oh, trying to wriggle out, huh?
“Should I answer that I’m his shield against spirits?”
“You expect me to hear that and still agree to marry?”
“What’s impossible about it? If possible, I’ll shield. It doesn’t wear me out.”
Junhee’s fearless answer left him momentarily speechless.
“Your father said he’d give a large alimony?”
A small sigh escaped her lips.
Really, he’s such a decide-before-asking man.
“One more time pretending to love money and men, and I’ll step on your perfectly fine foot.”
Junhee waved her heel in his face, furious.
His eyes narrowed, but then a faint, enticing smile appeared.
“Such a tiny thing with such a temper.”
Smile? She was furious.
Before she could retort, Lee Joon leaned over the table. Junhee blinked slowly.
Was he really getting closer, or was it an illusion?
“Remember?”
His hand slowly reached for her small chin.
“Fifteen centimeters.”
Again, he came close as if to kiss, lips teasing, gaze languid, jaw slightly tilted.
“Distance for a kiss? And what good is that if you can’t even…” Ugh!
Before she could protest, her lips were devoured in an instant.
Thump. Thump.
The deafening sound was her own heart, racing uncontrollably.
Even just lips meeting, yet she couldn’t close her eyes in shock.
The moment, however, allowed her to admire Lee Joon’s face.
A kissing man’s face… was so sexy, so intoxicating.
Firm yet soft lips, warm breath seeping through—it was exquisite.
Just as her fluttering eyelids began to close…
“Breathe now.”
The magic ended abruptly.
“What if you’d actually done it!?”
Junhee wiped her lips with her sleeve, glaring, while Lee Joon slowly traced his fingers across his lips, savoring the lingering sensation.
Her cheeks burned at the sight.
“Had to make sure that if I harbored ill intentions, the ghost would eat me first.”
“…Are you crazy?”
“But staring at me without blinking, like a statue, I like it.”
“…What?”
“If we marry, you must live. Understand?”
His playful words carried a chilling seriousness.
“I don’t want to see anyone die again.”
Normally, she’d snap. She didn’t want superstition to affect Lee Joon too.
“Marry me, nut.”
Yet Junhee could not respond.
His flirtatious smile contrasted sharply with the dark sadness in his black eyes.
Today was the day they would draft the secret marriage contract.
“To marry…”
Choosing Baek Junhee as his spouse.
Lee Joon had to admit, albeit slightly, that the fortune teller Seokhun often consulted was somewhat accurate.
Junhee was the only woman he’d met who held no ill intentions toward him.
Was this fate?
A knock—twenty minutes early.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“She’s definitely unusual.”
Junhee had already defied his assumptions about women being late.
The suite controlled access from the lobby, so he assumed it would be her.
But before he could fully open the door, a strong perfume hit him.
“Joon-ah.”
Oversized sunglasses masked her beautiful face. The slim black dress silhouette was breathtaking.
“…Why are you here?”
The smile on his lips vanished, replaced instantly by displeasure.
“I had no choice.”
Her soft, wet voice reached out.
“Please, don’t marry him, okay?”
Before her hand reached the target, it was cruelly brushed away.
“Chaesonghwa.”
Calling her name, Lee Joon gave his signature lazy smile while observing her trembling, helpless eyes.
“Thought you’d understand I warned you.”
Yet his words were ice-cold.
The hotel staff approached, unsure if Junhee was suspicious or needed help.
“Can I assist you, ma’am?”
“How do I get to room 1501?”
The elevator showed no ‘15’.
“Room 1501 is VIP; you’ll need the private elevator. Follow me.”
Guided by staff, Junhee scratched her head, unfamiliar with hotels.
Ding—15th floor. A wide corridor revealed itself.
Clearly, the single room on the second floor was 1501.
Stepping out lightly, Junhee’s eyes widened.
“…What’s that?”
Even after rubbing her eyes, the woman standing at the room door was unmistakable.
She tried to think positively.
Lee Joon had said the hotel was the best place to conduct business, not that it would be his personal room.
“…Hmm.”
He claimed to schedule every minute precisely. Had she been scheduled for this slot?
The tense standoff remained. Why was she at the door?
It was clear—they weren’t just acquaintances.
Lee Joon wasn’t visible, but the woman’s aura gave enough hints.
“…What now?”
Retreat or advance? The moment to decide.
“Ten minutes isn’t enough reason to go back, right?”
If business, ten minutes was trivial—wait inside or in the hallway.
But if personal…?
“Then of course, advance.”
Love wasn’t the goal—this wasn’t a normal marriage.
But a contract didn’t mean she’d be a foolish wife turning a blind eye to infidelity.
Being a ghost shield didn’t mean giving him freedom to see other women.
Decision made.
Her steps were confident, silent on the soft carpet.
Up close, the gaze that met hers belonged not to Lee Joon, but the woman.
Rivalry sparked instantly, though Junhee regretted it—half her small face was stunning, and her beauty was overwhelming.
Even her scent—a rich, intoxicating rose—was compelling.
“Wow, so beautiful.”
Instead of jealousy, Junhee admired sincerely, earning a slight raise of the woman’s brows.
“But Lee Joon, even if I arrived ten minutes early…”
Keeping her eyes on the rival, Junhee asked innocently, crystal clear:
“Do I need to step aside?”
Lee Joon: choose—her, or me.
