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Episode 18
Back at the office, Heejae began compiling materials alone, without any help from her client.
“The client is no use. I’ll just have to do it myself.”
She didn’t notice how much time was passing. Rooted in place, she stared at the monitor as if glued to it. One by one, her colleagues packed up and left. By the time she was completely alone and dark circles had set under her eyes, she still hadn’t budged.
Night had fully fallen outside. Stretching her stiff muscles, Heejae pushed her chair back and reached her arms high. She rolled her aching neck and glanced at the wall clock. It was already 11 p.m.
Late nights weren’t new to her, so the hour didn’t surprise her. Given how useless the client meeting had been, it was inevitable things would take this long.
She pulled her chair back in, set her hand on the mouse, and was about to resume work when a knock sounded.
Knock, knock.
She lifted her head toward the open doorway.
“Working late?”
Leaning casually against the doorframe, the man who had knocked without meaning it was none other than Shin Kyobin.
Their eyes met, and Heejae quickly turned hers away. She placed her fingers back on the keyboard, continuing as if he weren’t there.
“Are you working so hard you don’t even see what’s around you?”
Even being blatantly ignored didn’t faze him; he strode confidently into the office. Standing behind her, he even waved his hand in front of her face.
Heejae still treated him like a ghost, focusing only on her work.
Kyobin eventually turned away. She glanced at his retreating back—only to be caught off guard when he dragged over the chair beside her.
“Then I’ll just sit here and admire Heejae’s face while she works.”
Planting himself right next to her, he leaned forward onto the desk, turning his head toward her. His gaze pressed so close that ignoring him became impossible.
Finally, she pushed her chair back sharply and turned to him.
“If you’re done with work, go home. Why are you getting in the way here?”
“What? You could see me this whole time?”
Kyobin straightened up, grinning boyishly. That smile overlapped with the memory of his schoolboy face, fresh and innocent years ago.
Before her resolve could soften, Heejae squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to meet his.
“I just came back from a dinner meeting. Drank too much—thought I’d rest here before heading home.”
“Drank too much?”
Now that she noticed, he did smell of alcohol. Strangely, she didn’t find it unpleasant. If it were anyone else, she would’ve hated it. But because it was him, the scent stirred a dangerous desire to sink into the intoxication with him.
Still, Heejae betrayed nothing on the surface. She wouldn’t let him see the ashes of the feelings that had burned and refused to die out.
“Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I wanted to see you even more tonight. Lucky me—you’re still here.”
He collapsed forward again, looking up at her from beneath the desk. His face was faintly flushed.
“It’s proof you and I are meant to be.”
“That kind of proof has no validity.”
She dismissed his line coldly. He only chuckled, unsurprised by the rejection.
Then his eyes dropped beneath the desk. He noticed something unusual—her hand. His gaze sharpened.
He reached for her hand before she could cover the injury with the other.
“What happened here?”
He tugged her hand toward him. Resigned, she let her fingers go limp.
It wasn’t a large wound, but he had spotted it instantly, as if attuned to every inch of her.
“Just spilled some coffee, clumsy me—”
“Shin Seheon did this, didn’t he?”
She didn’t even get to finish the excuse before his voice cut through.
“I told you—you’d get hurt if you stayed near him.”
He said it like a certainty. Heejae wondered what gave him such conviction. He hadn’t seen it happen. Was it because he knew she rarely made careless mistakes? Or could he read the lie on her face?
Either way, it was unnerving how deeply he seemed to know her.
“Did you treat it properly?”
“It’ll heal on its own. Nothing serious.”
She yanked her hand free irritably. But the sting only flared hotter where he had touched it.
“It hurts me, Heejae. Even this little thing.”
His voice sank low as he suddenly closed the distance. Startled, she wet her dry lips. He caught her fleeing hand again—this time interlacing his fingers with hers, holding her tight.
The slow, deliberate motion sent a shiver through her body.
“I hate seeing you hurt, even a hair out of place. Take care of yourself.”
She stared down at their clasped hands. His large palm enveloped hers completely, his grip so firm it seemed impossible to slip free.
Before he could press more about Seheon, she diverted the topic.
“About Chairman Shin assigning me to the Vice President’s case…”
Despite the fruitless meeting, Seheon had left her with a seed of doubt: Why had she really been brought back into Shinil?
“Was it just to cut me off for good? To throw me into a losing case on purpose?”
Cautiously spoken, but Kyobin said nothing. The silence stretched. She slowly raised her eyes.
The playful smile that had always lingered on his lips was gone. His face had hardened, ice-cold.
“Did Seheon tell you that?”
His voice was low, sharp, and dangerous. Just mentioning Seheon made his eyes blaze.
“Don’t believe a word that bastard says. Look at the charges. Is he the kind of man to trust?”
Kyobin always told her not to trust anyone but him, to keep everyone else at arm’s length.
But the more he said it, the more it felt like he was hiding something himself. That only deepened her doubt.
“Besides—he’s half out of his mind now. Losing everything will do that.”
It was true. Seheon, once the picture of icy restraint, had shown her a side that was nearly unhinged.
“What else did he say?”
Kyobin inched closer, his gaze fevered. The fact she had even met Seheon clearly enraged him.
“…That I should be careful of you.”
Her reply was guarded. Right now, she couldn’t fully trust either of them. If anything, Seheon’s bitterness had felt more honest than Kyobin’s secrecy.
“Meaningless worries.”
He clicked his tongue, scowling.
“You already guard yourself against me more than anyone. And I know it.”
He knew she was wary, yet he pressed on anyway—because he was confident he could break through her defenses.
