Chapter 15
Juyeong’s gaze followed the sound and came to rest on the closed door.
She hadn’t done it with any particular meaning in mind, but staring at the shut door made her realize one simple fact.
That fact was that she was alone with Bae Seonghun in a sealed room—with no CCTV.
But, well, it wasn’t the first time they’d been left alone together. It wasn’t something worth worrying about.
Juyeong soon turned her head and looked at Seonghun.
He was holding the shirt and tie she’d seen at the last store, along with the trousers the shopper had prepared.
“Should I step out too?” she asked.
Seonghun, who had been heading toward the fitting room, stopped. Turning back, he looked at Juyeong and raised one eyebrow slightly.
A habit, perhaps.
Whenever Bae Seonghun demanded further explanation, only one eyebrow twitched upward. It was an arrogant gesture—but an arrogance backed by confidence.
“You said this isn’t a body meant to be ogled carelessly.”
“You shouldn’t be ogling it anyway. You should be appreciating it—my body.”
And there was a clear difference between ogling and appreciating.
Seonghun added casually,
“We may only be seeing each other with marriage in mind, but wouldn’t it be strange to treat you the same as any other person?”
He wasn’t wrong.
But for some reason, hearing that made Juyeong suddenly recall something she’d once said to him.
We look close. As if you and I are anything more than a business relationship.
So that was why, after sending the shopper away and being left alone, he was using “honey” instead of “Ms. Choi Juyeong.”
Was he enjoying this?
“…You seem to be having fun with this situation.”
“It’s not exactly unfun.”
That was when it happened.
Clink. A metallic sound rang out.
Seonghun’s hand had moved to his belt without her noticing. His large hand was undoing it.
Are you insane—!
Juyeong hurriedly turned her head away.
But the metallic sound didn’t lead to anything further. There was no sound of the belt coming fully loose, no trousers dropping to the floor.
In the long silence, Juyeong sensed that something was off.
Seonghun let out a quiet snort of laughter.
“You didn’t think I’d strip here, did you?”
A mocking scoff followed.
“Scaredy-cat.”
Juyeong frowned.
What did he just say…?
As she was about to protest, Bae Seonghun had already slipped into the fitting room.
Left alone outside, Juyeong let out a hollow breath.
Yesterday at the Japanese restaurant, this morning with the cabbage juice—she felt like she’d been dancing to his tune nonstop.
It wasn’t a good feeling.
Besides, if anyone was supposed to hold the upper hand in this marriage, it should be Choi Juyeong.
Not Bae Seonghun.
Having reached that conclusion, Juyeong stood up and strode toward the fitting room.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed the handle and turned it.
“…This man.”
Was he careless—or just shameless?
The handle that never should have turned did so easily, and the door opened. Bae Seonghun hadn’t locked it.
“What is it?”
Seonghun greeted her calmly, having just taken off his shirt. One might expect him to be flustered, but his expression was perfectly composed.
“Our CS Department Store places the highest priority on the privacy of our top one percent customers.”
Juyeong’s gaze drifted downward at an unhurried pace.
“That’s why we created a distinction unique to our VVIP lounge.”
Broad shoulders flaring out at sharp angles, thick arms extending from them, collarbones catching the light, and beneath that, a wide, powerful chest.
With each steady breath Seonghun released, his chest muscles shifted, and shadows changed across his defined abs.
“That’s why there are no CCTV cameras in the VVIP lounge.”
The unreal body she’d only ever seen in statues was now alive and moving before her eyes.
She finally understood why he’d used the word carelessly.
“So what’s your point?” he asked.
“So, the point is—”
Before finishing her sentence, Juyeong suddenly thrust both arms forward.
As her slender wrists looped around his neck, the distance between them closed naturally, chest pressing against chest.
The muscles around Seonghun’s eyes twitched faintly.
Had he not anticipated this much? Did he really leave the door unlocked without considering even this?
How dare he.
So brazen.
“The fun part starts now.”
The instant she curled her lips into a grin, Juyeong pressed her lips to his neck.
As if kissing, she gently pressed her lips there, then bit down lightly before sucking in as though drawing breath.
Seonghun’s neck muscles contracted sharply. In contrast, his ribcage expanded and froze in place.
The pulse of his heartbeat traveled clearly through his carotid artery.
Thump. Thump.
A little fast.
When Bae Seonghun came into view from a distance, Secretary Yoon, who had been waiting, got out of the car.
As he swiftly opened the rear door, Secretary Yoon began,
“Did your conversation with CEO Choi Juyeong wrap up well—”
But his eyes suddenly widened. His lips moved several times, yet no sound came out.
It was because of the vivid red mark etched on Seonghun’s neck.
In weather this cold, and inside a department store at that—there was no way a mosquito had bitten him. No matter how many possibilities one considered, the conclusion was the same.
A kiss mark.
Feeling awkward for having witnessed such a private moment of his boss’s life, Secretary Yoon quickly looked away.
Seonghun, however, asked in a dry tone,
“Does it look like it wrapped up well?”
“Uh… yes. It does.”
If physical conversation counted as conversation, then it did.
“That’s a relief.”
Wearing a smile whose meaning was unclear, Seonghun slid into the back seat.
Thud. Secretary Yoon closed the door and got into the driver’s seat. Glancing at Seonghun through the rearview mirror, he asked,
“Shall we return to the hotel?”
“Yes.”
Seonghun swiped open the camera app, which could be accessed even from the lock screen.
As his face appeared on the screen, he adjusted the angle and examined the mark on his neck more closely.
Absurdly enough.
The kiss mark resembled a smiling face.
“Hm. I like it.”
Back in the fitting room, Juyeong had said as she slowly pulled away,
“You have to leave at least something like this behind for it to count as a proper date, don’t you?”
Choi Juyeong had looked at him with a lingering gaze, as though appreciating a work of art.
Was it meant as revenge? Was this her way of paying back his teasing?
Seonghun pressed the side button and turned off his phone. He’d seen enough—there was no need to keep staring at the kiss mark.
But still—
“Cute.”
Lowering his gaze, one corner of Seonghun’s lips twitched.
A taut, swollen outline lay heavy between his thighs, making its presence unmistakably known.
Juyeong didn’t arrive home until late at night.
Beep, beep, beep.
Her fingers punching in the door lock code felt sluggish today. Following Bae Seonghun around had drained more of her stamina than usual.
“Thanks to you, I’ll sleep well tonight.”
Click.
The lock disengaged and the door opened. The sensor light in the entryway turned on, bathing the space in a soft amber glow as it welcomed Juyeong.
A familiar sight.
And yet, something foreign mixed into it.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
Still wearing her shoes, Juyeong crouched down in the entryway and looked at the source of that unease.
[Organic Cabbage Juice]
The box of cabbage juice Bae Seonghun had sent along with the document envelope.
Should she throw it away?
The box claimed it was “organic cabbage juice,” but there was no guarantee the contents truly were. She knew better than to judge by appearances alone.
How easy it was to deceive others with a glossy exterior.
“I showed sincerity. What you do with it is your responsibility.”
“……”
“If you’re planning to list the cause of divorce as my death, at least give me a heads-up. That way I won’t waste my time wrangling busy lawyers for nothing.”
…A waste of time.
Right. This was all Bae Seonghun’s nonsense.
So don’t fall for it.
Even if he knew she took stomach medicine, it wouldn’t become a weakness. She had more than enough excuses ready.
Juyeong stretched her legs, stood up, and changed into slippers. Then she closed the inner door and walked into the living room.
The sensor light in the entryway turned off behind her. The box of cabbage juice was left alone in the darkness.
But complete darkness never fully arrived.
Because the stark white box of cabbage juice still held a faint afterglow.
