Chapter 16 ..
“Alright. That’s enough, Nayeon.”
Chairman Cha waved a hand dismissively, signaling the end of the situation.
Nayeon immediately smiled sweetly and began flattering the chairman as she started her meal. She said how much she’d missed eating home-cooked meals here, and how half her suitcase was filled with gifts for him.
Since Sehee had no chance to join the conversation anyway, she silently picked up her chopsticks and began eating. She hadn’t eaten all day, and work had been especially exhausting today, so she was hungrier than usual. If she didn’t eat now, she’d probably have to starve again all day tomorrow.
She also didn’t want to meet Chairman Cha’s eyes—he kept smiling at her every time she looked up.
“When I was little, I practically lived in this house. I made up every excuse possible just to see you, oppa.”
With her now-free hand, Nayeon picked up a shrimp roll and placed it on her plate. Then she pushed the plate toward Cha Ido again. When her hand had been injured, she had no choice but to accept his help—but now there was no reason for that anymore.
“Even after my dad passed away, I came by often because it felt so lonely being alone. You told me too, to let you know anytime I needed help.”
“Ah, I see.”
Chairman Cha gave an emotionless sigh. The moment Song Nayeon mentioned her late father, the atmosphere turned somber.
“Oh, please don’t mind. My dad passed away while working. It wasn’t your fault, Chairman.”
Her words sounded considerate, but the fact she brought it up at all only made it seem like she wanted him to feel guilty.
“He was my only family, but it’s been a long time now.”
Sehee picked up another shrimp roll—the yuzu sauce’s sweetness suited her taste perfectly. The lamb chops, beautifully plated with salad, were also delicious.
“Is there anything you want?” the chairman asked.
“There was, but it’s already been sold,” Nayeon answered playfully.
“I’ll just have to wait until it comes back on the market.”
It was obvious she didn’t think Cha Ido’s marriage would last long. Once she was full enough, Sehee set down her chopsticks.
At the same time, Cha Ido also put down his glass of water, signaling the end of the meal.
“I’ll head upstairs now. You should get going too,” he said.
Giving Nayeon a brief glance, he rested a hand lightly on Sehee’s shoulder. Nayeon’s brow twitched at the sight.
Sehee instinctively avoided his gaze. Even though she knew she had no reason to feel guilty, she couldn’t help but feel sorry—it must’ve looked like she’d stepped in after the fact, since she and Cha Ido were once engaged.
“Well then…”
She bowed politely to the chairman and stepped out into the hallway. The tension in her chest finally began to ease.
At last, she could rest. Whether it was Nayeon or the servants, no one would bother her while Cha Ido was home.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Her full stomach only made her sleepier.
“You eat well,” Cha Ido remarked as he followed beside her.
“You told me to eat,” she replied flatly.
“So oblivious.”
When she looked up at him, he didn’t seem angry. Was he teasing her? Or was that supposed to be a compliment?
The chairman, who had been completely absorbed in Nayeon, hadn’t said a single joking word to her—and she hadn’t smiled or played along either. The only one who’d done that was Nayeon.
“My fiancée came back, and you still managed to eat?”
Slowly, he took her hand and brushed a thumb over the cut on her index finger. Though she hadn’t shown it, it seemed he already knew she was hurt.
“That’s not like you, Yoo Sehee. You’re usually such a crybaby.”
That familiar tone again. Cha Ido didn’t smile often, but whenever his long eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, it triggered a faint sense of déjà vu.
“What are you—”
Before she could finish, he leaned in closer and brushed her nape with his fingertips. When she reflexively touched her neck, she felt the thin chain of her necklace—her necklace, the one she’d lost earlier that morning.
He’d somehow returned it to her.
“Maybe you don’t realize it, but everyone working here is here by choice,” he murmured in her ear.
“They’re not like you—forcing themselves to stay somewhere that makes them sick.”
Her heart pounded. When had he noticed her necklace was missing?
Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back.
“If it gets too hard, ask for help,” he said.
His tone was calm—almost as if he’d known everything all along, and had simply been watching.
Even with his ex-fiancée sitting beside him, Cha Ido had eaten his meal without a flicker of emotion.
He was courteous and kind—to everyone. When it suited his purpose.
“He was so good to her too, you know. Ate with her every day, looked after her whenever she was sick…”
That was what terrified Sehee. She didn’t trust the warmth of his hands—it could disappear at any time.
The way he’d looked at Song Nayeon earlier was detached, devoid of feeling. Once Sehee became useless, he’d look at her the same way.
Maybe that was why Nayeon’s words, no matter how cruel, only made her seem pitiful now. Sehee knew Nayeon wasn’t Cha Ido’s first love, or his weakness, or anyone she needed to fear.
“No, I’m fine,” Sehee said quietly.
“……”
“If I ever need help, I’ll ask.”
Lowering her eyes, she stepped away from him and quickly turned down the corridor.
The next morning, Sehee rubbed her tired face as she came downstairs to see Cha Ido off. Even though she’d slept through the night without waking once, the fatigue hadn’t lifted.
She could endure for a day or two—but after repeated days of skipping meals and working herself to exhaustion, her body was reaching its limit.
After last night’s dinner with Cha Ido, she’d collapsed into bed and slept until morning. Lately, she found herself counting the hours until he returned home each day.
She could ask for help—but she didn’t want to. While she worked, the servants pretended not to notice wherever she went, and that was enough.
The only thing she could gather in this house was information.
“……”
She watched out the window as the sedan’s headlights disappeared into the distance, then let out a long sigh. Another grueling day was beginning—and now, Nayeon was home too.
She suddenly recalled Nayeon’s tearful rambling from the night before.
“My dad…”
Even though he’d looked tired, Cha Ido had listened patiently to her drunken sobs. She hadn’t been kicked out afterward, so she must have taken a guest room somewhere—but Sehee didn’t know which one.
For someone who acted so brazen, her heart seemed surprisingly fragile…
“Hey. You—come here.”
Just as Sehee was about to turn toward the foyer, Nayeon’s voice froze her in place.
“……!”
Before she could even react, someone yanked her by the hair, forcing her head down. Her vision went black. She sensed a startled servant rushing over from a distance.
“Please don’t! Miss Na, you can’t hit her—if Director Cha finds out—”
Dragged roughly across the floor, Sehee’s hands hit the cold tile. When she looked up, she realized she was in the bathroom. Nayeon, clearly in a foul mood since morning, sneered at her.
“It’s fine. As long as I don’t touch her face.”
The panicked servant hesitated. Judging from her reaction, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
“It’s just that… um… the director doesn’t only look at her face, but sometimes even has her… help with his bath…”
“What?”
Unfortunately, the servant’s words only fanned Nayeon’s fury.
“You crazy bitch!”
“……!”
Nayeon grabbed Sehee by the back of the neck and shoved her face into the tub full of water. For someone who looked so delicate, her mouth was vicious. Water rushed up Sehee’s nose and mouth before she could even gasp.
“So, you’ve been living comfortably, huh? Just because Cha Ido takes care of you, you think you’re something now? You worthless little—”
The rest of her words blurred into an unintelligible hum. All Sehee could hear was the dull roar of water in her ears.
She couldn’t fight the weight pressing down on her head. The more she struggled, the more the cold water splashed around them.
She forced herself to think straight. It wasn’t new—she’d gone through worse, countless times before, at the hands of her adoptive brother.
“Ugh—!”
Pretending to struggle weakly, she let her body go limp and held her breath. Usually, that was enough to make her attacker panic and release her.
Sure enough, Nayeon’s grip slackened for a moment.
Just as Sehee’s face began to break the surface, Nayeon realized what she was doing and yanked her hair again.
“Trying to fake me out, huh?”
“Ghh!”
The water splashed hard across her face as she was plunged even deeper. There wasn’t even time to take a breath.
Her mouth opened involuntarily, and water rushed down her throat and nose. Her chest convulsed; her breathing lost all rhythm.
Her slippery hands clawed desperately at the tub’s edge. Pain shot through her injured right hand, but instinct to survive overpowered everything else.
The image of Nayeon’s angelic smile at dinner flashed before her eyes. She’d known Nayeon disliked her—but not that she’d try to kill her.
Her body convulsed as water filled her lungs. Somewhere behind her, she could faintly hear the servants shouting, begging Nayeon to stop.
Her consciousness started to fade.
“Ugh, annoying.”
“Ha…”
Just before she blacked out, Sehee was yanked up by her hair and gasped for air, coughing violently. Her vision spun, her nose and throat burned painfully.
“Watch yourself. Do you still think you’re that almighty Prosecutor Yoo’s daughter? Try pulling that pathetic act again, and—”
Sehee couldn’t hear the rest. Even vomiting was beyond her strength now.
Her trembling hands slipped from the edge of the tub—and once more, her head was shoved under. Water flooded her nose again.
