Chapter 11
The banquet hall, decorated with black marble floors and white lilies, looked clean and luxurious. Small name cards were placed at regular intervals on the round tables draped in white tablecloths.
Seoyeon’s pupils widened at the dazzling scene she was seeing for the first time. Her head kept turning busily, scanning every corner of the hall.
“Pfft.”
Inho finally couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter.
Feeling embarrassed by his laughter, Seoyeon gave him an awkward smile.
“It’s extravagant, isn’t it?”
Inho’s eyes curved gently as he spoke kindly. He patted her hand, which was resting on his arm.
“But if you keep looking around like that, it’s dangerous, Seoyeon.”
“Dangerous?”
Seoyeon’s clear face turned to him, staring intently. Inho’s reflection was fully captured in her transparent eyes. That sight filled Inho with a strange sense of satisfaction.
From Seoyeon, he caught a sweet scent like honey mixed with fruit. Her lips, carefully done up at the salon, were red, and her makeup made her look even prettier than usual. Yes, pretty. That was the problem.
Inho’s gaze dropped to her lips.
It is dangerous, indeed.
Slowly, Inho lowered his head. They were so close that their noses almost touched.
“Director…?”
Startled by how close his face suddenly was, Seoyeon instinctively pulled back, her brows faintly furrowing.
Damn. A bad habit had slipped out without him realizing. Inho’s movement stopped. His eyes slowly met hers. Seoyeon’s eyes held surprise, confusion, and every sort of uneasy emotion.
Negative feelings.
Clicking his tongue softly, Inho turned his head and whispered in her ear — as if that had been his intention all along. He just hoped it looked natural.
“Everyone here pounces when they sense weakness, so if you look so new and lost, it’s dangerous, Seoyeon.”
“Ah.”
He murmured lightly, then pulled away from her as if nothing had happened — not a trace of hesitation in his easy, crisp movement. Seoyeon let out a small sigh, her cheeks flushing red. Was I being overly sensitive? She tightened her grip on his arm. The thick wool suit crumpled slightly under her fingers.
Inho looked at her with a mischievous grin and opened his mouth again.
“But Seoyeon, if you flinch like that just because I get a little closer, I might get my feelings hurt.”
“I was just surprised because your face came so close all of a sudden.”
“Well, my face is a bit dangerous.”
“You can joke like that, Director?”
The atmosphere, which had briefly tensed, lightened again, and both Seoyeon and Inho chuckled softly.
Inho glanced at the clock on the wall. There were about thirty minutes left until the publishing event began. He slowly swept his gaze around the banquet hall. Under the lights, the way he looked at people glinted with a dangerous sharpness.
“Seoyeon, I’ll introduce you to some people. This way.”
Seoyeon followed Inho as he carefully guided her.
Standing under the chandelier, he looked more radiant than usual. Like an actor under a spotlight, his bright face drew the eyes of those around them. Like bees drawn to flowers, people began to gather around them.
“She’s a rookie writer I have high hopes for these days — Ms. Oh Seoyeon. This gentleman is the director of HTN.”
“Hello, I’m Oh Seoyeon.”
“Pleasure to meet you. So, you’re the one who managed to impress our picky Director Cha — I’m looking forward to seeing your work. We should all have dinner together sometime.”
An elderly man, half-bald, extended his hand to her. His face looked kind enough, but his eyes glinted with greedy curiosity as he looked at her.
Cha Inho was the nephew of the chairman of the Hwayang Group. It was never a bad thing to stay on his good side. With that thought, Seoyeon politely shook the hand offered purely out of calculated interest.
The atmosphere was warm and friendly. People showed great interest in Seoyeon, the young woman Inho had brought. But then, with just one comment, the entire mood froze.
“Are you, by any chance, the daughter of artist Oh Yeontaek?”
Inho quietly turned to look at the woman who asked the question. It was a familiar face — Lee Yeonhwa. She was the CEO of one of Hwayang Construction’s subcontractors. Normally, she wouldn’t have been allowed in a place like this. Inho’s gaze narrowed slightly. Seeing Yeonhwa awkwardly turn her head away, a vague sense of unease bubbled up inside him.
“Oh my…”
“Oh Yeontaek… the artist?”
The ripple effect of Yeonhwa’s words was immediate and intense. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Seoyeon at once, silently demanding an answer. Inho clicked his tongue softly. Then, a man picked up the thread.
“If you mean artist Oh Yeontaek, isn’t he the one who sexually assaulted his students twenty years ago—”
“You’re talking about the case that was ruled not guilty, right? Does that really matter now?”
Inho cut the man off mid-sentence.
“Still, where there’s smoke, there’s fire, isn’t there?”
“That’s offensive. A case ruled not guilty by the courts — what gives you, Executive Director Yoon Taek, the right to say that?”
“Well, if Chairman Cha himself started that fire, wouldn’t there be smoke?”
Yoon Taek fell silent when Yeonhwa beside him lightly tapped his arm. Even under Inho’s piercing stare, Yoon Taek only smirked shamelessly. That look made things crystal clear for Inho.
Lee Yeonhwa and Yoon Taek — both were tied to Hwayang Construction subcontractors. They couldn’t possibly afford to bankroll a publishing event that cost hundreds of millions of won. There was no way the chairman wouldn’t know that.
Unless they had someone powerful backing them, none of this was possible. And there was only one person capable of orchestrating all this.
The very man who had dragged Oh Yeontaek into the mud overnight.
‘Chairman Cha Junseong.’
Inho’s mind flashed back to the scene of Seoyeon and Chairman Cha Junseong’s meeting just a few days ago.
“I hope you won’t regret your choice.”
Those final words from Junseong had sounded more like a warning. That meeting had ended far too gently for someone like him. It had felt wrong — but Inho had brushed it aside, knowing just how deeply obsessed he was with Seoyeon’s reason.
But this…
Inho let out a hollow laugh. The extra invitation for the publishing event, the push for Seoyeon to be brought here — all of it was orchestrated by Chairman Cha Junseong. Seoyeon had stepped perfectly into the trap he’d laid.
If Seoyeon had accepted the chairman’s offer back then, this would have been her splendid debut stage. Now, the eyes fixed on Seoyeon were sharp and cold. It was a familiar déjà vu — the same accusing stares Oh Yeontaek had once endured were now raining down on her.
In the middle of those razor-sharp stares, Yoon Taek spoke again.
“So then, Ms. Oh Seoyeon, please answer us. Is artist Oh Yeontaek your father?”
Inho’s cold gaze stabbed into him, but Yoon Taek stared back at Seoyeon relentlessly. Their eyes met. A tense silence fell.
Then Seoyeon slowly opened her mouth. Inho’s eyes on her held a flicker of worry.
“Yes, that’s right. Artist Oh Yeontaek is my father.”
Everyone’s lips clamped shut as if they were clams.
Just moments ago, they’d been peppering her with friendly questions — now, they looked completely different. The atmosphere turned frigid.
Inho hurried to speak up.
“It’s all in the past, and he was found not guilty. What matters is Seoyeon’s talent, isn’t it?”
“Director Cha.”
At those words, the HTN director quietly called his name.
Meanwhile, the people who had been standing near Inho and Seoyeon began to drift away one by one, offering awkward excuses.
The director patted Inho’s shoulder a couple of times and said,
“Everyone knows that, of course.”
“Director…”
“Don’t push so hard. Even for you, this is too much.”
Inho fell silent. The director gave Seoyeon a brief nod and then slipped away. Before they knew it, only a cold silence surrounded them. In a space crowded with groups of people, they stood alone. Seoyeon’s hand, still holding Inho’s arm, was trembling slightly. A bitter smile formed on her lips.
Inho looked at Seoyeon.
Damn it.
She looked like she might collapse at any moment.
“Seoyeon.”
“…Yes.”
“It’s okay. We just need a little more time, that’s all. Especially tonight… it looks like Chairman Cha was involved. So please, don’t blame yourself too much.”
“Is it because I turned down his offer back then?”
At Seoyeon’s words, Inho forced an awkward smile. Seoyeon lifted her head to meet his gaze. Seeing his expression, her faint smile faltered.
“So it’s true.”
“But there’s still a chance.”
“…Thank you, Director.”
Looking at Inho, who was trying so desperately to keep a thread of hope alive, Seoyeon knew — almost painfully — what it meant.
She would end up walking the same path as her father.
