CHAPTER 31……………………………….
. How Much Should I Pretend Not to Know?
“Boss, you seem to be in an unusually good mood today.”
“Do I?”
At Kang Jun’s relaxed question, Chief Yoon’s eyes flicked toward the others in the room.
“I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Kang Jun was the type who wrapped himself in manners like a tailored suit—smiling pleasantly even as he stabbed someone straight in the chest.
‘There’s no need to say you worked hard. Prove it with numbers.’
With his clean-cut looks and calm smile, his ability to shake down his executives like a dryer was top-class.
But today, the executives walking out of the meeting room looked cheerful.
Instead of being scolded, they’d actually received carrots instead of sticks.
“Clear my schedule after six. If something urgent comes up, have Executive Director Park and Chief Yoon handle it as they see fit.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heading toward his office, Kang Jun checked his watch.
He had already finished his day’s quota at a frightening pace, and yet it was only five o’clock.
Time was crawling.
The city view beneath his feet through the wide glass window was always colorless—dry, monotonous, lifeless.
Always the same.
But now, somehow, it seemed vibrant. The city felt alive, the flow of time palpable.
“Ju Sehee.”
Just saying her name made his mind heat up.
The muscles trapped beneath his suit twitched, wanting to explode again.
She could be shy yet daring, bashful yet bold, coy yet enchanting.
“Even her name is beautiful.”
He remembered last night—the soft touch, the sweet taste, the faint fragrance, the delicate moans.
The language of bodies, hearts entangled, emotions exchanged, pleasure shared.
The first night that made them an inseparable married couple.
His day was full of her, shining because of her.
He wondered if she felt the same.
“Probably not.”
Kang Jun rubbed his brow with his fingertips, a bitter expression on his face.
When he woke up, the “thing” inside him had also risen—forcing him to pretend to still be asleep.
That’s how he overheard his wife’s true feelings.
“If you like him that much, you should be greedy for him.”
Her logic made no sense.
To say she’d yield him to another woman, to say she’d remember their first night alone?
She claimed to like him—so what was last night? What was the passion they shared?
Why was she still desperate to run away?
But it was too late now.
He’d given her a chance, and she hadn’t taken it.
Now, he had no intention of letting her go.
Even his own conflicting feelings amused him; Kang Jun chuckled softly.
“Ms. Ju Sehee, if you’ve slept with me, you’ll have to take responsibility.”
He wasn’t the kind of man who could just wipe his mouth and forget.
He had principles—almost to a fault.
Now, only one question remained:
Should he investigate his wife or not?
It would take some time, but with the name Ju Sehee, he could uncover everything.
And yet, he hesitated.
“With her personality, she won’t take that lightly.”
If she ever found out, all the trust he’d painstakingly built could collapse.
He knew firsthand just how cold and ruthless she could be.
“Then hearing it from her directly would be best.”
But this was a wife who had spent the night with him and was now plotting to run away.
She wasn’t the type to open up, even if he asked directly.
Love was useless against her—he’d already learned that.
How could he get her to reveal her secrets?
He laughed bitterly.
“I guess she can love me but still not trust me.”
He finally began to understand her heart.
He didn’t trust her, yet wanted her to trust him.
How selfish, how arrogant.
“This will take time.”
To open her heart, to earn her trust, to make her confess.
But Kang Jun could wait.
Once he’d decided to hold on, she wouldn’t escape.
Rushing could ruin everything.
If she wanted him to pretend not to know, if she wanted her secrets left untouched—
then perhaps that’s what he’d do.
“…I suppose I should.”
But there was one thing he couldn’t pretend not to know—their first night.
That was the one thing that made them truly husband and wife.
Kang Jun called his wife’s secretary.
[Hello, sir.]
“When does my wife finish work today?”
He recalled her struggling figure as she’d left that morning.
[She said she canceled her afternoon schedule and is heading straight home.]
“Reason?”
[She said she hasn’t slept and has some light muscle pain. Of course, she refused to go to the hospital.]
“Could it be… that day of the month?”
[…Pardon?]
“The one that comes once a month.”
Unlike Kang Jun’s calm tone, Secretary Kim sounded flustered.
[Ah—no, sir! That’s at the end of every month!]
Then the marks on the bed—
Satisfied, Kang Jun’s eyes gleamed.
“Ju Sehee, looks like I’ll have to take responsibility.”
A relationship where they had to take responsibility for each other.
A fitting beginning for a husband and wife.
All morning, Taeryeong kept groaning in pain.
“Ma’am, are you feeling unwell?”
Not exactly unwell, but she hurt.
Every brush of her clothes stung; every muscle screamed for mercy.
Even intense weight training hadn’t left her this sore.
“I just didn’t get enough sleep.”
“Because of Chairman Han’s surprise birthday party last night? You worked until dawn again, didn’t you? You’ll catch another cold at this rate!”
“It’s just mild muscle pain. Don’t worry.”
“How can I not worry? Hold on.”
Like a quick little squirrel, Secretary Kim dashed out and returned with a bottle of vitamin water.
“Here, drink this first.”
After surviving a crisis together, Secretary Kim had become deeply loyal to Taeryeong.
The problem was, her loyalty came with endless nagging.
Still, that nagging wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
“I’ll rest early tonight, so stop worrying and get back to work.”
As Secretary Kim reluctantly turned to go, Taeryeong quickly added:
“And don’t report anything to my husband.”
Kim’s eyes widened—caught red-handed.
She’d clearly sensed the subtle tension between the two.
Believing herself to be on Taeryeong’s side, she had a habit of reporting even small things to Kang Jun—especially after rescuing Taeryeong from Madam Cho’s outburst.
When she was finally alone, Taeryeong muttered quietly,
“Is it always like this?”
Strangely, when she thought back, she realized she hadn’t done much.
He was the one who had moved, the one who had exerted effort.
So why did she feel so sore—like she’d die?
Just then, the intercom rang.
[Ma’am, Mrs. Ino is here to see you.]
“Send her in.”
Taeryeong sighed heavily. Of all times.
Mrs. Cho—still elegant, poised, and graceful—entered.
Only her eyes, as cold as ever, betrayed her disdain.
“I heard you’re pushing for the Dora Mall acquisition. Was that your idea?”
“It’s not my idea. It’s the shareholders’.”
“…”
“They want to acquire a stable brand rather than start something entirely new. They want visible results, and quickly.”
“…”
“You remember, Ino Fashion nearly went under when it overextended into a new field before.”
She delivered her rehearsed answer calmly.
“I actually wanted to consult you about this, but I’ve been too busy lately.”
Mrs. Cho’s sharp gaze felt like claws scraping through her mind.
Taeryeong met those eyes carefully and continued.
“Please help persuade the shareholders, especially Director Kang. If you can handle them, I’ll take care of the outside directors.”
“Why should I?”
“If Ino Fashion acquires Dora, we’ll have to keep seeing each other even after this contract ends. I figured you wouldn’t like that.”
“Worried I’ll seize your funding, is that it?”
Just as expected, Mrs. Cho took the bait.
She never missed a chance to twist the knife.
“You refused even the money I offered—who else could you possibly rely on besides that friend of yours? Let me guess, still working at Dora, aren’t you? No other place would take in someone as pathetic as you.”
After high school, until the marriage contract, Taeryeong had indeed worked at Dora Mall.
Not because she had nowhere else to go, but because she was the actual owner.
But of course, Mrs. Cho didn’t know that.
“It’s not me who’s troubled—it’s Jinkyung. She wants to expand the business solo, but Ino keeps bothering her with acquisition offers. So I’m stuck in a tough position.”
“So you offered a ridiculously low price because you didn’t want Ino to buy Dora, huh?”
Caught off guard, Taeryeong bit her lip.
“Triple your offer. Then they’ll stop pestering you.”
“Mother!”
Mrs. Cho rose coldly, clearly done.
“That’s all I came to say. Stop playing shallow games with that empty head of yours.”
Once Mrs. Cho swept out, Taeryeong’s lips curved into a quiet smile.
“Thank you, Auntie, for taking the bait exactly as I hoped.”
Everything was going according to plan.
It was her first time feeling this way, but she knew one thing for sure—
when you’re sore all over, the best cure is to eat well and rest.
Chief Yoon had said her husband would be home late tonight,
so she’d come home early, relieved.
The house was warm, filled with his scent.
Just then, Kang Jun stepped out of the bedroom, towel-drying his wet hair.
Bare-chested.
Taeryeong didn’t know where to look, her voice small.
“Chief Yoon said you’d be home late…”
But her lowered gaze saw his bare feet approaching slowly.
“I came home early since I heard you did.”
Why, though?
When her brows knit slightly, he teased,
“I stayed out last night. Aren’t you going to scold me?”
She looked at him quietly.
His eyes were calm, detached—as always.
Did he really not remember last night?
Strangely, that was both a relief and a disappointment.
How contradictory.
“I stayed out too. You slept in the bedroom, I in the living room. Grandfather asked me to stay since you were drunk—I couldn’t leave you. So let’s call it even.”
“Sleeping under the same roof doesn’t count as staying out?”
Something in his gentle tone made her uneasy.
“…Right.”
“Then I’ll let it slide.”
Something about his composure made her tense.
“There’s a bath ready in the first-floor bathroom. Take a half-bath and a shower tonight.”
“Why the sudden half-bath?”
“You said you had muscle pain.”
Her eyes burned suddenly. Kim, what exactly did you tell him?
“A half-bath helps with sore muscles.”
His gaze deepened.
“Are you worried about me?”
“Can’t I be?”
“We’re not that kind of couple.”
With a faint smile, he took a step closer.
“Then what should I do to become that kind of couple?”
Now she understood her déjà vu.
Something was different about him tonight—his eyes warm, expression soft, voice tender.
Like a man in love with his wife.
Like a real husband.
She stepped back, defensive.
“I hate when people beat around the bush. What are you trying to say?”
If you remember, just say it. Don’t play games.
The space between them grew dangerously thin.
“I think you’re the one with something to say.”
Even without touching, her ears burned red.
Last night flashed in her mind.
Her body remembered every detail—the warmth, the weight, the imprint he’d left all over her.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”
Even if he remembered, nothing would change.
Her decision to give up on loving him, the truth that soon they’d no longer be husband and wife.
“No.”
The moment she said it, his strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.
Her heart pounded painfully.
The heat of his body felt vividly familiar.
“Then just answer one thing.”
His large hand cupped her neck, his finger tugging at her scarf.
In an instant, her white nape was exposed—covered in red marks blooming like roses.
Tracing them gently, he leaned close and whispered,
“How much should I pretend not to know about last night?”
His breath brushed her lashes—hot, intoxicating.
