Chapter 17….
Feeling much calmer, Nayeon returned to her room and clenched and unclenched her throbbing palm. The long scratch Yu Se-hee had desperately raked across her wrist was still there.
No servants dared to interfere with her anyway.
Secretary Ahn would occasionally try to stop her, but she had whispered to Chairman Cha just yesterday and sent him away on a long vacation. Nayeon had already disliked the suspicious look in Ahn’s eyes whenever he saw Cha I-do.
Her father, who worked as a chauffeur, had raised her alone with sincerity, but Nayeon was always ashamed of her poor family background. From the moment she started hovering around the Cha household, her own life felt more pathetic than ever.
At nineteen, when her only parent died in an accident, she inherited part of Haegang’s assets. Compared to what Haegang truly owned, it wasn’t much—but it was enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.
Was it responsibility? Or was it a way to avoid inconvenience later? Nayeon didn’t know—but she didn’t refuse the kindness.
Whenever she tearfully brought up her father, the usually unemotional Cha I-do let her act spoiled. She took advantage of that whenever necessary. No one in this house dared mistreat a poor, pitiful girl.
She lazed around all day, and only when late afternoon came did she go downstairs, rubbing her hungry stomach. Cha I-do had returned home earlier than usual and was stepping inside the foyer.
When Se-hee finally came to her senses, she immediately covered her mouth as waves of nausea surged up. She must have swallowed so much water—her throat stung, and her stomach felt painfully bloated.
For a moment she wondered if everything had been a dream, but when she lifted her wrist, the throbbing pain was still there.
Today she had planned to explore the house more thoroughly. But the interior layout she was trying to map out hadn’t progressed at all in days. She still didn’t even know where Cha I-do’s bedroom was.
“You should drink this.”
A servant entered noisily, perhaps fearing Cha I-do might hear, and handed her some honey tea. She didn’t want it, but she couldn’t ignore the gesture, so she forced down a sip.
“You should rest today. Forget the housework.”
Se-hee set down the cup and shook her head. She couldn’t. As long as her father might still be alive, she had to keep searching for clues.
“I’m okay. I’ll go downstairs.”
The moment she leaned on the wall, pain shot through her wrist as if the bone were fractured. She doubted she’d be able to function properly, but she tried hard not to show it.
When she reached the first floor, she saw a tall silhouette in a familiar tailored suit leaning against the wall. She was about to ask for another medical check-up, but another voice reached her first.
“…Ah, this?”
A step further revealed Nayeon hiding her wrist from Cha I-do, looking awkward.
“I just tried to help.”
Under the hand that barely covered it, Se-hee caught a glimpse of the scratches—clearly caused by her own instinctive struggle.
“I made a mistake. She must still be sensitive…”
Cha I-do stared down at Nayeon’s wrist. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look amused either.
Clearly, this wasn’t a moment she could ask him to call a doctor. Se-hee rubbed her face and quietly turned away.
It seemed Nayeon was going to be a much bigger obstacle than expected.
“Are you leaving again?”
Cha I-do had returned home earlier than usual—but soon stepped out again with a large suitcase. Se-hee followed, expecting he would stay for dinner.
“A sudden schedule came up. I won’t be coming back.”
He glanced back at the sound of footsteps and flicked his wrist to check the time. His tall frame cast a long shadow across the foyer. Se-hee hesitated, biting her lip where he couldn’t see.
Before, his absence would have felt like relief—she’d be free to search the house.
But now, being left alone with Cha Jaeseok, who constantly tried to corner her, and Nayeon, who wanted her dead? She didn’t like that at all.
“Why that face? It’s not like you’ll miss me.”
Cha I-do stepped closer and brushed her hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek. The sudden scent of him made her hold her breath.
“If you need anything, ask.”
He hadn’t scolded her for hurting Nayeon. She had no intention of asking for help.
Because she was a trophy.
Now that she knew his motive, she didn’t want to rely on him. For all she knew, Cha I-do might have orchestrated everything and was simply watching.
“Have fun.”
Did he really think she spent her days happily knitting and playing house? Or was he testing her—fully aware?
She shivered at the thought that Nayeon might be watching from somewhere.
Maybe his sudden kindness was meant to provoke her. Cha I-do never dirtied his own hands.
She wanted to ask if they were sleeping together—but they weren’t in that kind of relationship.
“Take care.”
Se-hee replied calmly and turned her back on him first.
With Cha I-do gone, Nayeon practically moved in, and Se-hee’s workload doubled—no, tripled. As if determined to make her suffer, Nayeon trashed every room and made a scene.
When irritated, she shoved Se-hee into the bathtub. After she fainted, Nayeon slapped her awake.
She forced disgusting food into her mouth and laughed as Se-hee gagged. And if boredom still lingered, she spilled drinks over freshly washed sheets and offered shameless apologies.
But even that wasn’t as unbearable as Cha Jaeseok.
Day and night, he brought young women into his room. Se-hee prepared breakfast to the sound of forced moans and shrieking laughter. She hadn’t known any of this while she lived only upstairs.
And afterward—still full of energy—Cha Jaeseok would wander into the dining room in nothing but a robe, making crude remarks and brushing against her on purpose.
“Still no news about Prosecutor Yoo?”
“I could at least recover the body for you. Interested?”
Even if he really could find her father, she would never ask. He was vile enough to make her skin crawl.
The only fortunate thing was that Nayeon liked wine.
After finishing a bottle with dinner, Nayeon would pass out early and rarely wake at night.
Once the servants were asleep, the house finally became hers.
After cleaning the mess Nayeon created, it was nearly nine before Se-hee could straighten her knees. Her injured arm throbbed, her body was exhausted, but she splashed cold water on her face to stay awake.
Finding Cha I-do’s weakness was the priority—not sleep.
Last night, in the study, she’d found documents her father left behind while handling Haegang’s affairs. He had covered up crimes, hidden evidence, even manipulated cases.
The material was so extensive—and dawn came too quickly—so she hadn’t finished reading.
Haegang was more rotten than she’d imagined. Loan sharks disguised as business deals. Companies forced into bankruptcy, robbed of their technology and assets. And that was how Haegang rose to become a top construction firm.
She didn’t know why her father joined such crimes, or why he suddenly tried to betray Cha I-do.
But she believed he had a reason. She had to investigate more.
Se-hee grabbed a flashlight and went to the study.
She had found the documents by accident—while arranging books, she noticed an odd irregularity in the wood grain of a shelf. Her father preferred natural wood, so she had learned to recognize mahogany.
Pushing on the misaligned groove opened a small gap. After countless fake cleaning trips to the study, she’d finally found something.
Remembering her racing heart from the night before, she felt along the same spot.
The documents were divided into about ten folders.
In a yellow file were photographs of Prosecutor Yoo—her father—entering shadowy buildings, meeting someone secretly.
Judging by his clothes, these were from the past year or two.
Which meant Cha I-do had known about her father’s plans for a long time—and let him dance on strings.
Her eyes stopped on a familiar silhouette.
“You said it was spoils of war. That we should split it.”
“Do you know how much work I did to pull this off? This isn’t nearly enough, but if we do it right…”
Prosecutor Kang.
He was the link between her father and Haegang Construction.
Pretending to help her father, he had told Cha I-do everything. Whether he planned betrayal from the start, or bailed when things got messy—she didn’t know.
Her fingers curled painfully.
But she couldn’t stay angry. She had to move on.
She opened the next file—and swallowed hard.
Inside were pamphlets.
Overseas Adoption Center.
Forest Children’s Welfare Organization.
Korean Cultural Heritage Foundation?
What… is this?
Just then, a bright light cut across her lowered face, striking beneath her chin.
