PR 11

Chapter 11 ..

Sehee climbed up the ladder and spent the entire day organizing the books lined up in the study. She wiped away the bead of sweat that had rolled all the way down to her chin. With her injured arm making it difficult to balance, even the smallest movements were uncomfortable.

“If you’ve got nothing to do, at least come out and help. You should at least earn your keep, don’t you think?”

When Chae Do’s reasons for taking her in had been unclear, the servants were cautious around her. But now, they treated Sehee with ease.

Naturally, Chae Do never called her to his bedroom anymore. That gave the servants all the more reason to work her to the bone.

As the afternoon dragged on, the hunger she’d been holding back finally came crashing in. The plate that had been delivered to her contained a mix of leftovers that looked like garbage, as if to say they knew Chae Do wouldn’t care.

Because she wasn’t eating or taking her medicine properly, the recovery of her casted arm was slow.

And yet, ironically, the more her body suffered, the more at ease her mind felt. In a situation where she didn’t even know whether her remaining family was alive or dead, the thought of living comfortably by herself felt unbearably shameful.

Even if it wasn’t as extreme as theirs, the fact that she too was enduring physical hardship gave her a small sense of absolution.

“I don’t get why we have to wait on that woman. Hae-gang nearly went down because of her.”

The servants who had given her the work and were now resting began gossiping. They didn’t bother to lower their voices; they clearly didn’t care who heard.

“There’s no one to trust. Who would’ve guessed that Prosecutor Yoo Hyung-jin, who used to trail after Director Cha like a dog, would be like that behind his back?”

Sehee paused for a moment to catch her breath, listening closely to the conversation coming from beyond the door.

Her father’s reputation was plummeting by the day. A corrupt prosecutor hiding behind the mask of justice. A dog discarded after it had served its purpose.

Even if everyone else pointed fingers at him, she couldn’t bring herself to do the same.

“You don’t take in a beast with black hair.”
“You can’t trust those with unclear origins. Who knows how they’ll betray you later? Better hide your valuables in advance.”

She’d heard these lines every time she was adopted into a new family. But despite being abandoned twice, the man who became her father had steadfastly believed in her.

She was fifteen.

She met the prosecutor couple during their volunteer work at the temporary center where she was staying. It was a relatively late adoption, but they cherished her like their own child.

Prosecutor Yoo Hyung-jin was upright and cautious.

If a man like him had committed a crime, Sehee believed there must have been some unspoken reason behind it.

“I wonder what Director Cha was thinking, bringing that woman into the house.”

One of them clicked their tongue.

Everything Sehee ate, slept on, and the spaces she moved through were only allowed under Chae Do’s permission. She needed an escort or a designated keycard to use the elevator or the stairs.

Judging by the height of the trees outside, she guessed she was staying on the third or fourth floor.

She’d only become familiar with four people so far: two servants, Secretary Ahn who managed them, and Chief Secretary Lee, Chae Do’s personal secretary, who occasionally showed up.

Her plan was to slowly find gaps under the pretext of helping around the house. By learning the layout and the mood of the place, she might be able to gather bits of information.

For example, about her father and Sejin’s whereabouts… or about Chae Do’s first love—the only person he had ever opened his heart to.

The servants weren’t friendly toward her, but if she kept bumping into them, maybe they’d eventually soften up. Even the most solid fortress had cracks somewhere.

“It won’t last long anyway. Remember the woman who pretended to be his lover last time? He was so sweet to her—eating with her every day, taking care of her when she was sick.”
“Turned out she was a spy from Prosecutor Yoo’s side. I really thought Director Cha had fallen for her back then. Who knew he was playing along the whole time?”
“He must have a plan again this time.”
“Once President Song hears about this, there’ll be hell to pay. They say she crushed that other woman like a rat. She must’ve heard by now, right?”
“Of course she has. It’s strange how quiet it’s been.”

The conversation soon drifted into topics Sehee couldn’t follow. Judging from their words, it seemed she wasn’t the first woman Chae Do had carefully cleaned up and “looked after.”

Barely holding herself upright against the ladder, Sehee stepped down one rung at a time, gritting through the pain in her arm.

“If she collapses, we’ll probably be the ones getting scolded.”
“Leave her. Director Cha never cares about what happens during the day anyway.”
“I heard she’s never even held a real job. Honestly, I feel sorry for Prosecutor Yoo. He spoiled her so much, and now she’s struggling alone like this…”

At last, her feet reached the floor. Despite it being midwinter, her clothes clung damply to her skin, soaked with sweat.

Catching her breath, Sehee placed her hand on the door as if she’d heard nothing.

“Um… May I wash my hands…?”

The servants’ expressions froze.

Who would ever guess, looking at her now, that she was the eldest daughter of Prosecutor Yoo Hyung-jin—a girl who had once been treated like precious jade? Her frail figure looked pitiful enough to faint at any moment.

“You’re done organizing, so go back to your room. Director Cha will be here soon.”

After managing to shower on her own, Sehee dried her wet hair. She turned on the TV to escape the silence, and news reports about her father filled the screen.

Thankfully, there was no report of a body being found. There was still hope.

She collapsed onto the bed and let out a long breath. She realized just how easy her life had been under her father’s protection.

Those might have been the warmest moments of her life.

Chae Do might act like a benevolent ruler, but what he truly wanted was the complete, brutal downfall of Prosecutor Yoo Hyung-jin—the man who had dared to betray him.

She looked down at her wrist, which had grown alarmingly thin lately.

She had to crumble. The more broken she looked, the more satisfied Chae Do would be—and the more likely she’d get what she wanted. If she kept at it, maybe one day he’d loosen his tongue and tell her where her father and Sejin were.

When she’d lived as Lee Hae-soo, she’d had nothing to protect. But now, she had a family. She had something she desperately wanted to protect, even if it meant begging and groveling.

Knock, knock.

A soft knock echoed through the room.

Secretary Ahn entered without meeting her eyes and drew the curtains open.

“Director Cha has arrived.”

“……”

“He’ll be coming down to the dining room in ten minutes. Please get ready.”

Sehee rubbed her tired eyes and steeled herself.

8 p.m.

It was the time Chae Do returned home. Another meaningless dinner awaited.

Secretary Ahn naturally stood behind Chae Do and took his jacket as he walked in. Her movements as she set down the dishes and accepted his clothes were practiced, almost intimate.

It was the kind of scene that could make one mistake her for his wife. She stepped closer and reached toward his collar.

“That’s enough. You can go.”

With one swift hand, Chae Do loosened his tie and dropped it onto the jacket in her arms.

His slightly undone attire only emphasized his good looks rather than detracting from them.

“Ah, then…”

Bowing her head, Secretary Ahn quietly left the dining room. Her bare, haughty face was expressionless.

“Sit.”

His dry voice cut through the air. Sehee and Chae Do were the only ones at the long island table.

She forced herself to hide the flicker of disgust that crossed her face.

She looked down at the plate in front of her. Soft pumpkin salad, salmon steak, smoked duck—all dishes she’d enjoyed before.

She wasn’t sure, but she wondered if he’d asked her father about her preferences.

If that were true, it meant her father was still alive, and they were still in contact. It was a faint hope, but she wanted to cling to it.

Chae Do kept their meaningless dinner ritual every night. It was the only proper meal she had each day, yet she found it difficult to eat when the food was actually in front of her.

She picked up her fork with her now-practiced left hand, keeping her head lowered.