Chapter 6. Nightmare
For the first time since moving into this house, Eun-young had a dream.
She was running aimlessly, breath ragged, through an unfamiliar place.
Branches whipped against her arms and legs, leaving shallow cuts that bled as she tore through the underbrush.
No matter how far she ran, there was nowhere to hide.
And the sound of footsteps chasing her grew closer.
A gunshot cracked through the air.
Startled, Eun-young looked up — and the black flock of birds perched above scattered in panic.
She ran again.
Her clothes were in tatters — the knit sweater snagged, the long skirt torn open along the side.
She tripped on a tree root and fell face-first to the ground.
Tried to rise — but her legs gave out. She couldn’t move.
When the footsteps stopped, terror spread across her face.
A shadow loomed over her.
As she lifted her head, she saw Tae-woong.
“Told you not to cross the line.”
He crouched down and gripped her chin.
His dark eyes studied her for a long, heavy moment before his face came closer—
and his lips touched hers.
Eun-young’s eyes flew open wide.
At the sweetness of that touch, her eyes slowly fluttered shut—
and she woke with a start.
She’d had anxious dreams before—
chased by someone unknown, wandering through places she’d never been.
Those dreams had been reflections of exhaustion—
the pressure from her aunt, the grind of med school, the weight of endless days.
But never had a man appeared in them.
And the image of kissing Tae-woong was so vivid that her face flushed red.
Sweet in the moment—
but now, awake, it left her shaken and cold.
The gleam of his black eyes lingered in her mind even after the dream faded.
From that day, Eun-young found herself wary of Tae-woong’s gaze.
Every time their eyes met, that same intense stare made her tense.
She tried to tell herself it was just a dream born of unease—
not some hidden desire.
Trying to mask her discomfort, she kept her expression blank.
“Doc, you’re not trying to kill me, are you?”
Ji-woong looked up at her, grinning, as she stretched his arms.
Lost in thought, she’d pulled too hard without realizing.
Eun-young quickly let go.
“Sorry. Did that hurt?”
“Nah, I’m fine. But what were you thinking about so hard?”
“Oh… just wondering what’s for breakfast.”
Ji-woong burst out laughing.
He said she was unexpectedly funny, not as serious as she looked, and laughed even louder.
Watching his face brighten with laughter, Eun-young was struck by how much he resembled his brother.
Especially when he smiled.
Those upturned eyes—exactly the same curve.
Leaving Ji-woong to the caretaker, Eun-young stepped out.
She meant to greet Madam Jung downstairs, but stopped halfway down the stairs—
and pressed herself against the wall.
Tae-woong was in the living room, talking with his mother.
The dream flashed back like a warning.
Dreams were supposed to be illogical, fleeting, strange—
but this nightmare clung to her like glue, refusing to fade.
Trying to shake off the thought, Eun-young went into the bathroom.
Back at the hospital, when she was exhausted, she’d splash her face with cold water.
She did the same now—
drenching her face, then lightly slapping her cheeks.
But still, she could feel it—
his lips pressing closer, his breath against her skin.
She shook her head hard, trying to drive the image out.
She regretted responding to his words that night.
Regretted letting her emotions show.
Their arrangement was supposed to be simple.
Eun-young wanted money.
Tae-woong wanted his brother.
That was it.
There was no need to blur the line with feelings.
Her foolish pride had brought nothing but a restless mind and a ridiculous dream.
She swore she’d treat him from now on as if he didn’t exist.
A thing, not a person.
Tae-woong paused while walking past Ji-woong’s room.
Through the open door, he saw Ji-woong laughing.
Across from him, Eun-young was laughing too.
It was a side of her Tae-woong had never seen before.
He turned away and went downstairs.
As he drank a glass of water, he remembered the first time he met her.
Back then, his life had been drenched in boredom.
His grandfather had forced him to take on the company’s overreaching business ventures.
Work after work—meetings, travel, barely three hours of sleep for ten straight days.
His chief secretary had dragged him to the hospital, saying he needed an IV drip.
He’d agreed, too tired to argue, but told them to keep it quiet—
no VIP fuss.
He’d been led into a dark treatment room.
His phone buzzed with a message from the secretary:
One of Ji-woong’s medical team will handle it.
Then someone entered.
“I’ll start your IV now.”
A calm, detached voice. The woman turned on the lamp and began the procedure.
Lying there with his arm across his forehead, Tae-woong caught a faint scent—
alcohol and skin.
She was completely focused on her work,
not once looking at him.
Even under his steady gaze, her attention stayed on the vein in his arm.
Each time she moved — finding the vein, adjusting the line —
that scent drifted over again, teasing his nerves.
When she finally said she was done, he glanced at her name tag.
Myung Eun-young.
Without another word, she left.
Later, riding the elevator, Tae-woong caught sight of her again—
standing on the second-floor landing.
Was she hiding from him?
A smirk tugged at his lips.
So bold before, now she avoids me?
“Sir, I’ve updated Dr. Myung’s file and sent it to your email. Shall I keep following up?”
The secretary’s voice came from the front seat.
Tae-woong’s finger froze on the tablet.
He tapped it thoughtfully, his brow furrowing, then easing.
“Keep watching.”
The car stopped in front of a tall building in downtown Seoul.
As Tae-woong stepped out and handed the tablet to his secretary,
the man hesitated, eyes fixed on something.
Following his gaze, Tae-woong spotted a familiar figure.
“Tae-woong.”
The man’s hair was graying, his navy jacket worn.
“Bring him up separately,” Tae-woong said quietly, pressing the secretary’s shoulder before walking inside.
He took the executive elevator.
In the mirrored walls, his clenched jaw looked sharp and hard.
As soon as he reached his floor, he strode into his office.
He waved off the standing employees with a flick of his hand.
When he sat down, a knock came at the door.
“Shall I bring you something to drink?” asked the secretary.
He waved it off.
The man entered.
“Why are you here?”
Polite words, cold tone.
“I was nearby, thought I’d stop by. Wanted to see how you were doing.”
“So you’re here to play father now?”
Tae-woong’s eyes never left the papers on his desk.
“By the way, congrats on your eldest getting into a good college.
Even if we’re nothing on paper now, we still share blood, right?”
His tone was dry, mocking.
“…You knew.”
“Of course I knew. Even if you left years ago,
you’re still officially the son-in-law of I-Myung Group.”
“…How’s Ji-woong?”
Tae-woong’s gaze turned sharp as a blade.
“Do you really think calling yourself ‘father’ makes it true?”
His eyes burned with barely restrained rage.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Get out.”
He pressed the intercom for his secretary.
“Help me finalize the divorce. It’s been ten years.”
“Let’s not see each other again.”
As the secretary led Kwon In-deuk out, Tae-woong shut the file he’d been reviewing.
Every time that man appeared, he tore open old wounds.
Then a new email notification flashed on the screen.
Tae-woong checked it, stroked his sharp jawline—
and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
