🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter – 10
“How much are you worth, Ms. Sa Eun-hee?”
Eun-hee almost said, “Should I wash up first?” but pressed her lips together just in time.
A wave of regret washed over her. She hadn’t realized how that would sound — as if she had been waiting for this very moment, as if tonight’s visit had only one purpose: to end up in his bed.
All because she had been too focused on her goal.
At least she hadn’t actually said it.
“May I sit down?”
Yeong-hun gave a curt nod, jerking his chin slightly. As Eun-hee quietly took a seat, his sharp gaze flickered toward her.
Then came his low, chilling voice.
“How much are you worth, Ms. Sa Eun-hee?”
The unexpected question stopped her cold.
Was he speaking from knowledge?
Or was he just another man who believed every woman had a price? She couldn’t tell.
“You were desperate for money, weren’t you? Desperate enough that a loan shark stormed into your workplace. You probably had no one to turn to. And not long after that, you’re working as Park Mi-jeong’s errand girl. I suppose my fiancée paid you well enough. So then…”
Eun-hee curled her toes. She wasn’t sure she could stay calm for what was coming next.
Yeong-hun leaned forward, the front of his gown parting slightly under the light, revealing the firm lines of his chest.
“So, how much would it cost to buy you?”
“……”
“Name a number. How much is a woman like Sa Eun-hee worth?”
“……”
“I’ll buy you.”
The words stung — not just for their insult, but for the fear that came with them. She felt like she was being interrogated, not spoken to.
Don’t let him pull you in.
She took a quiet breath, forcing a gentle smile, and replied softly,
“Then… would you take a look for yourself, Prosecutor? You can decide how much I’m worth.”
But what came back was a bitter, cutting laugh.
Two short, derisive chuckles — each one a dart straight to her chest.
And then, sharper still:
“…So this is the kind of woman you are, Sa Eun-hee.”
He exhaled heavily and leaned back. His narrowed eyes brimmed with disappointment.
I wish I could disappear.
That was all she could think.
She had told herself not to get drawn in, yet she’d danced right into his hands.
Did Cha Yeong-hun even realize that she, too, was disappointed in him?
Her chest tightened with self-loathing. She turned her gaze away, silent — no excuse, no defense.
Yeong-hun watched her for a long moment, his eyes tracing her flushed face, but his words stayed sharp.
“Sorry, but I’m picky. I don’t like things that come too easy — they always feel cheap.”
Cheap.
That was exactly how she had felt when they first met, in that underground room — cheap and small.
Now that she knew he saw her the same way, the shame cut deeper.
“…I’m sorry.”
It was all she could say.
She had been clumsy, foolish, out of her depth. She had to admit it — she wasn’t capable of seducing a man like Cha Yeong-hun.
And bitterly, it was he who made her realize that.
Yeong-hun’s reddened eyes opened halfway, his tone weary.
“The only reason I came to this hotel was because I was exhausted. The only reason I brought you here was to find out why you and Park Mi-jeong are doing this.”
He straightened, reached into the jacket draped over his chair, and pulled out his wallet.
“Now we’re done. So, Ms. Sa Eun-hee…”
From the deep blue leather, he drew a neat stack of checks and tossed them onto the table.
“Take this, and let’s both move on gracefully.”
“……”
Eun-hee stared down at the scattered slips, her fingers trembling slightly.
She counted them silently. One. Two. Three…
Maybe this amount was how much her humiliation was worth in his eyes.
Still, she lifted her chin, throat burning, and forced a calm smile.
“Thank you for your consideration, Prosecutor.”
But he had already dismissed her, as if she no longer existed.
He picked up his phone, checked the time, then crossed the room and grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar.
Click. The cap twisted open. Clear water poured down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp. Eun-hee found herself watching it.
Then she spoke, carefully,
“I’ll take this generous cab fare as an apology for the misunderstanding earlier tonight.”
She deliberately reminded him of the incident in that closed room — when he had treated her like a call girl.
He let out a short, scornful laugh.
But Eun-hee didn’t stop. Like a professional hostess, she bowed politely.
“I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Prosecutor. Have a pleasant evening.”
She bent low, then neatly gathered the checks into her clutch.
Her scalp burned under his gaze. When she straightened, Yeong-hun stood there, one eyebrow raised, staring at her — with a look that felt almost thirsty.
She ignored it, picked up her bag, and walked toward the door.
Why does this distance feel so long? she thought. His gaze clung to her back, heavy as heat, but she didn’t turn around.
Until she did — when she reached for the door handle.
A sudden warmth enveloped her. She looked down. His large jacket was wrapped tightly around her bare shoulders.
Startled, she spun around — and gasped. He was right there.
“I told you, didn’t I? That we’ll meet again.”
“…Yes, Prosecutor.”
She stumbled back, bumping into the door. With nowhere left to retreat, she pulled the jacket tighter around herself, as if it could protect her.
“So, when will that be?”
He leaned closer. He was tall — that absurd thought crossed her mind even now.
“When the chairman gives the order.”
“That could be in a few days. Or tomorrow.”
“Yes…”
“Then take this with you. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
“……”
“I mean me.”
Her tension eased slightly at that — it almost sounded like a joke.
For a brief moment, he studied her face, his brow softening.
“Take care, Ms. Sa Eun-hee.”
“……”
His breath brushed her cheek — warm, close. She didn’t hate the scent of him.
Her heartbeat quickened. Her eyes wavered, lost.
Then, regaining herself, she whispered:
“…Yes.”
Yeong-hun gazed down at the city lights scattered across the black night. His mouth felt dry. He lit a cigarette — but didn’t bother to smoke it.
What a mess of a day. Maybe it was the exhaustion. He’d let himself be dragged along by a colleague.
The place had turned out to be a secretive, members-only bar. And when he saw the middle-aged man waiting in the private room, he realized — he’d walked straight into a trap.
He was about to leave when his phone buzzed.
He thought it was about the investigation. He only meant to check it before walking out.
“How do you like the dress for part two? Do you like it?”
It was from Park Mi-jeong.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? He ignored it.
But then he heard the sound of high heels in the hallway — and a bad feeling crept in.
When he looked up, she was standing there.
Sa Eun-hee.
That damn woman.
“Fuck.”
