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Chapter 18
“Money? So their relationship deteriorated because of money?”
“Yes. Seung-hee often asked Seung-beom for money. She even said if he didn’t resolve it, she might call off the wedding.”
The courtroom murmured again at Min-ah’s revelation.
“So they argued a lot over money?”
“Yes… recently, a bit.”
“Why did the deceased demand money from the defendant? Any particular reason?”
“I think she took out private loans. Loan sharks visited the shop frequently. Opening the shop cost a lot of money, and business has been slow lately.”
“Did the fiancé know she had borrowed money?”
“Seung-beom didn’t know. Seung-hee told me not to tell him under any circumstances. And… well…”
Min-ah hesitated, her words stopping abruptly. Curiosity in the courtroom spiked.
“It’s okay. Please continue,” Kim coaxed gently, like calming a frightened child.
“Well… from the very beginning, when she came to our flower shop, she had been interested in him.”
“Interested in whom?”
“Seung-beom.”
“Why?”
All eyes were fixed on Min-ah as she began revealing the story piece by piece.
“Because he had made a lot of money from insurance and books… she thought it was time to try her luck.”
Pausing, Min-ah glanced at Seung-beom briefly, then lowered her head, her voice barely audible:
“So are you saying the deceased approached the defendant just to extort money?”
“It started….”
“Min-ah, what are you saying? You know better than anyone that Seung-hee would never do that. Why lie? Why lie!”
Seung-hee’s mother shouted from the gallery, her face contorted with anger at the suggestion.
Whispers spread across the courtroom:
“So she approached him for money? That’s scary.”
“She’s a complete gold-digger.”
“Poor guy, what a tragedy.”
“She was trying to kill for insurance money, then ended up dead herself?”
The murmurs twisted Seung-hee from innocent victim into a manipulative villain in a heartbeat.
“If you don’t know, stay quiet! My daughter would never do such a thing. This is wrong! It’s all wrong!”
Seung-hee’s mother’s voice cracked as she pleaded with the spectators. The thought of her daughter’s untimely death alone was unbearable, let alone having her daughter painted as a schemer.
“Quiet, everyone. Defense, please continue.”
Her words faded like smoke under the judge’s authority.
“So this relationship didn’t start from pure feelings or good intentions, correct?”
“…Yes.”
Min-ah reluctantly opened her mouth, lowering her head like someone guilty.
“A relationship starting with impure motives… very well. Witness, on the day of the incident, did you have any contact with the deceased?”
Kim’s voice was firm, seemingly intent on piercing the friendly atmosphere around Seung-beom.
“No, but she did tell me something the day before.”
Like a spool of tangled thread, Min-ah began revealing more.
“She said she was going to visit her brother’s parents’ tomb tomorrow, and this time… she wanted to settle the money issue once and for all…”
She hesitated, eyes flicking at Seung-beom again.
“Settle it… and then what did she say?”
Kim leaned forward on the witness stand, heightening the tension.
“She said she would break up…”
A collective sigh escaped from the gallery.
“Understood. That’s all,” Kim concluded, striding back to the defendant’s seat with a confident smile.
“Does the prosecution have further questions?”
“Yes.”
The prosecutor stood, clearly uncomfortable, glancing between Seung-beom and Kim. Their plan to disrupt the prosecution’s narrative was partially working.
“The witness suggested the deceased approached the defendant with ulterior motives for money and planned to break up. Is there evidence for this?”
“I heard it myself,” Min-ah answered.
“Good. Witness, you said you were close friends with the deceased?”
“Yes.”
“Were they on good terms recently?”
“Well… sometimes fine, sometimes not, depending on work…”
“You mentioned the flower shop struggled, and loan sharks even came by. The deceased must have been displeased. Was your salary paid on time?”
“A month or two was delayed…”
“So there were frustrations with the deceased, right?”
“Not necessarily…”
Min-ah looked flustered, unsure whether to continue.
“So your testimony could be biased by negative feelings toward the deceased.”
“That’s…”
The prosecutor had completely cornered her; her expression hardened.
“Your Honor, the prosecution is mocking the witness using unverified claims.”
Kim interrupted urgently.
“Acknowledged. Prosecution, please be careful.”
“Very well. Witness, do you believe the death of the deceased was murder, or an accident?”
The prosecutor’s sharp gaze caught Seung-beom’s expression, which momentarily twitched.
“I… I… um…”
Min-ah hesitated, silently pleading for help with her eyes at Seung-beom.
“Murder? Don’t distort the essence of the case. Your Honor, I request the last question from the prosecution be stricken.”
Kim reacted immediately, rising to defend the witness.
Seung-beom exhaled a frustrated sigh, fists clenched. What was meant to be a simple trial had spiraled into chaos.
“The court will review this case comprehensively and deliver a verdict in this courtroom at 2 p.m., two weeks from today.”
The judge’s words sent the spectators filing out like retreating tide.
“Chaerin, let’s go.”
Chief Choi, visibly tired, yawned and rose. Chaerin lingered, her gaze locked on Seung-beom.
“Let’s go. Teacher Jeong called briefly, said to come.”
“Yes.”
Reluctantly, Chaerin left, glancing back at Seung-beom one last time as she exited.
In the hallway, Kim tilted his head at Seung-beom, who was staring intently toward the exit.
“Saw someone familiar?”
“I think so. Anyway, well done today. Our plan worked mostly, despite the minor disruptions. After today, no one will dare spread rumors about you.”
“It should be that way. But I feel the prosecution may still push in strange directions, considering the forensic results. Will that be a problem?”
Seung-beom frowned.
“They might link it with rumors, but don’t worry. The game’s already over in my eyes. You should write this in a book—it’ll be a hit.”
Kim smiled confidently.
“Shall we go for dinner to celebrate? I reserved a good place.”
Seung-beom’s expression brightened briefly, as if shaking off the trial’s heaviness.
“Another time. I’m tired, and it’s better to stay low-profile for now.”
“Ah… then next time. I’ll see you out.”
Kim declined politely; Seung-beom forced an awkward smile.
“Very well. See you at the next trial.”
As Kim left alone, Seung-beom’s face tightened, lips and eyes contorting in a subtle frown.
“Pretending to be busy, huh? Annoying.”
In the courthouse lobby, Seung-beom muttered under his breath at the swarm of reporters:
“These damn reporters, so irritating.”
But as he stepped through the doors, his expression shifted completely.
“Seung-beom, how was today’s trial?”
“Did the prosecution really argue it was murder, not an accident?”
“Was it true she approached you for money?”
He paused, taking in the barrage of questions, then stopped mid-step.
“Just having to undergo this trial… it’s a deep sorrow for me.”
His bloodshot eyes swept over the cameras. Silence fell. Even journalists lowered their microphones, struck by the raw honesty in his voice.
“You said deep sorrow. So you reject the prosecution’s evidence?”
“Please, just a moment to grieve the loss of someone I loved. I will speak after the trial. I ask for that.”
Bowing at 90 degrees, he conveyed grief and resolve.
“I’ll leave now.”
The lobby quieted as Seung-beom strode toward the parking garage, muttering under his breath:
“Idiots.”
A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his lips.
Later, in the underground garage, Seung-beom parked and waited for the elevator.
“Kim Seung-beom.”
“Yes?”
A familiar reporter from the recent broadcast stepped forward.
“Remember me?”
The smile on Seung-beom’s face vanished instantly.
“What is it?”
“Please, smile for me. I’ve been waiting so long. How was today’s trial?”
“I have nothing to say. Leave.”
Seung-beom pressed the elevator button, avoiding eye contact.
Ding. Dong.
The doors opened; he entered and slammed the close button repeatedly.
“Wait! Just one word! Were you satisfied with today’s trial?”
A reporter lunged at the closing elevator doors.
Seung-beom’s irritation and barely contained fury surged.
“You asked for a word? Fine. I’ll give you one. But the listener must be alive, don’t you think? Right, Reporter Han So-mi?”
Every hair on her body stood on end. She instinctively let go of the door, stepping back.
“It was a pleasure meeting you. Be careful.”
Seung-beom’s eyes lingered on her as the elevator closed, his faint, unsettling smile still etched on his face.
The doors shut. She sank to the floor, exhausted, overwhelmed by a fear she had never felt.
“Did I… touch something I shouldn’t have?”
She whispered to herself, powerless before the aura of someone not to be trifled with.
