CHAPTER 51……………………………
“Mm……”
Her body felt heavy. Her eyelids, even heavier.
She had to get up, she muttered inwardly, forcing her eyes open.
Her body, still sluggish from a hangover, felt as if it had sunk deep into the mattress, unwilling to move.
Her eyelids blinked slowly—and something felt off.
“Where… is this?”
Only then did Haru realize this wasn’t her own room, and her eyes snapped fully open.
Turning her head, she checked the side of the bed—no one was there. She let out a sigh of relief.
Perhaps a small blessing amid the misfortune.
Haru hurried to retrace what had happened last night.
She’d gotten home late, showered, and gone straight to bed.
She had definitely fallen asleep in her own room.
Completely unable to figure out how she’d ended up in this one, Haru sat up.
Pulling her bathrobe tightly around her, she stepped out the door. From the dining room, she heard someone moving about.
Following the savory smell, she saw Ihan ladling soup into a bowl.
“You’re up?”
Haru nodded at his question, then asked,
“Why did I come out of your room?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Why did you come out of there?”
Ihan chuckled softly, answering a question with a question.
Frustrated by the blurry, blacked-out memory of the night before, Haru asked again,
“Did… did anything happen last night?”
“Well… should I say something did, or didn’t?”
Last night, when Haru was so drunk and drowsy, he had kissed her lips.
He’d wanted to devour her right then—but taking advantage of a woman who wouldn’t even remember it come morning felt like something only a beast would do.
So, Ihan had let her sleep in his bed while he spent the night in another room.
But seeing her now, completely unaware of what had happened, a mischievous thought crossed his mind.
At his vague answer, Haru’s face changed slightly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? What… what did I do?”
There was even a hint of anxiety in her voice.
Suppressing his laughter, Ihan replied casually,
“If you don’t remember, then it can’t be helped. I made hangover soup—come eat.”
“What? You’re not even going to tell me—”
Ignoring her protest, he placed a bowl of bean sprout soup on the table.
“I’m not great at Korean food, but I figured you could use something for your hangover.”
“Wow, that looks delicious.”
Seeing the clear broth steaming invitingly, Haru swallowed hard.
Her irritation from a moment ago was quickly forgotten.
“I’ll go change first!”
Watching her hurry away, Ihan let out a quiet laugh.
It was the weekend, and since she was still feeling the aftereffects of last night’s drinking, Haru decided to stay home.
Ihan had gone out, saying he had a meeting, and wouldn’t be back until late.
Even the CEO works weekends… she thought. I always assumed it’d be an easy position, but maybe it’s the opposite.
After spending the day alone at home, Haru ate dinner, took a shower, and sat down at her computer.
She planned to get a head start on her translation work.
The current project was a noir drama—something she didn’t often handle—so her pace was slower than usual.
The rough language of men and the mafia’s slang made the job tricky.
On top of that, the male lead was Italian, meaning several lines were in Italian.
Her job was only to provide the English translation, but since she didn’t know Italian, she found it frustrating.
When she played the video, the male lead—an Italian mafia boss—said something to the woman tied to a chair, in Italian.
Watching his striking face, Haru murmured to herself,
“They say even Italian beggars are handsome… guess that’s true.”
It reminded her of when she had traveled to Italy before.
Maybe it was their natural style, but every man there seemed charming.
And weren’t all the world’s most famous sculptures Italian, too?
Suddenly, a man’s image surfaced in her mind.
The man she’d met in Italy—the one still deeply rooted in her memory.
Lost briefly in reminiscence, Haru shook her head.
Her translation wasn’t flowing well anyway, so she decided to get up and refresh herself with some cold water.
But as soon as she stepped out of her room, she saw Ihan, freshly showered.
“Oh? When did you get back?”
“About thirty minutes ago,” he said, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.
Since she’d been holed up in her room, Haru hadn’t noticed his return.
She nodded and started toward the dining room—then stopped.
Turning back, she asked,
“By the way, do you speak Italian, Mr. Tae Ihan?”
She remembered hearing him use Italian during a phone call once.
He nodded. “Yeah. But why Italian all of a sudden?”
“The drama I’m translating has some Italian lines. I can’t figure them out, and it’s bugging me. I think if I understood them, the following dialogue would flow better.”
“I see. All right, I’ll help you.”
At his easy agreement, Haru smiled brightly.
After drinking her water, she returned to her room, paused the video at the relevant scene, and waited.
A little later, with his hair now dry, Ihan came to sit beside her.
“This the scene?”
“Yes. The mafia lead is speaking here.”
“Play it.”
Haru nodded and pressed the spacebar.
In the video, the mafia man walked toward the woman tied to the chair.
Despite trembling, she lifted her chin and glared at him. He bent down and spoke.
After listening to the Italian lines, Ihan nodded.
“Can you rewind a bit?”
Haru did, and as she did so, he leaned closer.
His finger hovered over the spacebar, and he pressed it lightly.
The lines played again.
“I’ve lived all this time without laws, without fear.”
Ihan translated line by line.
“But every time I look at you… I want to live like a human.”
“…”
“I can’t stop desiring you. Even though I already have everything a man could want.”
Maybe it was his voice—it carried so much weight and warmth.
Though he was only translating, the words sounded as if he meant them.
Holding her breath, Haru turned to look at him.
Meeting her gaze, Ihan smiled faintly.
“That’s what it means.”
“Oh. Right.”
Awkward all of a sudden, Haru nodded and turned her eyes back to the screen.
“Thanks. That clears it up.”
Just then, Ihan’s eyes caught something—her hand.
“What happened to your hand? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Oh, this…”
He gently took her hand, examining it.
“You left this like this all night?”
The area burned by the grill last night was red and slightly blistered.
“Come with me.”
He led her out to the living room and sat her on the sofa, his face tightening slightly in disapproval.
A moment later, he returned with a first-aid kit, opened a burn bandage, and carefully applied it.
Watching his attentive hands, Haru murmured,
“Thank you.”
“You’ll scar if you’re not careful.”
“It’s just a small burn.”
From this close, he smelled faintly cool and clean.
The frown between his brows made her swallow nervously. Flustered, she stood up.
After putting away the first-aid kit, he followed her.
“It’s late already. I should get some rest.”
Ihan’s room was near the living room; Haru’s was farther down the hall.
Walking together, they stopped in front of his door.
“Well, good night,” she said, turning to leave—
But suddenly, he caught her hand.
Her steps halted against her will. She looked up at him, startled.
His gaze had changed—deeper, darker.
Her lips went dry.
The air between them burned with tension; she couldn’t even ask why he was holding her.
“Let’s say last night’s confusion was because you were drunk.”
Her hand was tugged forward—
And just like that, Haru was pulled into Ihan’s room.
