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Chapter 10
“Ugh, my eyes hurt.”
Shaking the water out of his hair with his hands, Seol Tae-gun tossed the color swatches he had spent the entire day with onto the bed in disgust.
If you said you could memorize it in one day, I’ll check tomorrow morning. That should be fine, right?
This must be what people meant when they said someone was “asking for a beating.” It felt like being forced into homework inspection—not pleasant at all. But a promise was a promise. He had no choice but to keep it.
Thinking back to what had happened that morning, Tae-gun let out a dry laugh. Not anger, but sheer absurdity and disbelief.
He had to admit one thing about Han Bom.
“She actually pulled it off.”
Shaking his head, Tae-gun sank into the mattress, her face lingering in his mind.
It wasn’t as if he had disliked her from the beginning.
His father had always spoken of her with nothing but praise. She was quick, efficient, and capable enough that he had appointed her as his executive secretary. And then, one day, his father had declared he would step back from management entirely.
As if that weren’t enough, he left only one condition for succession:
“Endure Secretary Han. That’s my mission for you.”
At first, Tae-gun hadn’t understood. Why would his father entrust him with the company and then, at the same time, vanish abroad with his mother, leaving behind such a strange demand?
Now, after five years of working with Han Bom, he thought he was beginning to understand.
He stared blankly at the color swatch still in his hand. With a sigh, he set it down and tried to sleep. But it was hopeless. His addiction had taken hold completely. Every night, his thoughts drifted back to web novels.
“Since I can’t sleep anyway, maybe I’ll just read a little.”
Grabbing his phone, he browsed through stories written by Secret Spring.
One title immediately caught his eye.
“‘The Boss Is Too Much?’”
It wasn’t flashy, which he liked. But he knew by now that there was always a hidden edge behind such titles.
“What did the boss do that was too much, I wonder.”
He scrolled down to check the reader comments first.
[The male lead keeps me up at night. Extreme prescription in the next chapter!!]
“…Doesn’t sound like he’s planning to hold back.”
[Writer Eunbom, you’re seriously a trained pervert.]
“Eunbom? Is that short for Secret Spring? And what’s this about a ‘trained pervert’? Do they run some kind of academy for that?”
He chuckled. The comments were all over the place. There were even a few nasty ones, but loyal readers immediately pounced on those, tearing them apart.
“This world has its own sense of loyalty. I like that.”
Scrolling further, a more recent comment caught his attention:
[The audiobook for this is insane. Immersion 1000%!!]
“Audiobook?”
Apparently, it was voice actors performing the text, complete with music and sound effects. The recommendations for it were endless, and seasoned listeners even left warnings—never listen on public transport, and always use noise-cancelling headphones for maximum effect.
Without hesitation, Tae-gun opened a browser, signed up for an audiobook platform, and found the work. Then he sprinted down to the gym on the first floor, grabbed his headphones, and bounded back up the stairs two at a time.
He threw himself back onto the bed, grinning as he pulled the headset over his ears.
“This is purely for the experience. A cultural experiment.”
With that flimsy justification, he pressed play.
Instantly, he was swept away. The rich music layered under the narration, the vivid voice acting, the well-timed effects—it was a whole new world.
A satisfied smile spread across his face as he closed his eyes. His promise to only listen to one episode before sleeping was quickly forgotten.
Riiing— Riiing—
“Mmm…”
Han Bom rubbed her eyes against the harsh sound of her phone.
After a surprise visit from her friend Seol Hee-yeon, and a late-night session of watching adult movies and working on manuscripts, she hadn’t gone to bed until three in the morning.
The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dark.
“Ugh, who the hell is calling? If it’s that lunatic Seol Tae-gun, tell him I’ll kill him.”
Mumbling in her sleep, Hee-yeon rolled over.
The digital clock glowed faintly: 4:30 a.m.
“At this hour? No one ever calls me this early.”
Recently, Tae-gun’s morning appointments had been handled exclusively by Chief Secretary Choi Moo-gil. He even went to the office with him, leaving Bom completely excluded from personal tasks. Honestly, it had been nice—she could finally sleep in.
“Where’s my phone…”
Bom fumbled under the blankets until she found it. Squinting against the glare, she checked the caller ID.
[Chief Secretary Choi Moo-gil]
Her sleepiness vanished instantly. She sat bolt upright and answered.
“Yes, Chief.”
[Secretary Han… you must have been sleeping. Sorry.]
“No, it’s fine. What’s wrong?”
His voice was hoarse, strained, and heavy, as if weighed down by illness.
“Chief, are you sick?”
He coughed repeatedly, breath ragged.
[It’s Type-A flu. I’m in the ER right now.]
Apparently, he’d been feeling weak lately, but last night his fever spiked so badly he rushed to the hospital. On top of that, the old back injury he’d strained a month ago flared up, leaving him unable to move from the bed.
[Sorry, but… could you handle the Vice-President’s schedule today?]
Bom kicked off her blanket and sprinted for the bathroom.
“Of course. Don’t worry about a thing, Chief. Please focus on resting and getting treated. I’ve already memorized today’s schedule. I’ll brief the Vice-President myself. Yes, sir.”
She hung up, showered, and dressed in record time.
From under the covers, Hee-yeon groaned.
“I could never be a secretary. Not even if I came back from the dead.”
Bom ignored her, rushing to the front door.
“Pick up fried chicken on your way back!”
“Go home before I get back!”
“Nope.”
Hee-yeon just giggled under the blanket as Bom slammed the door behind her.
In the taxi, even as the car jolted along, Bom’s hand was steady as she applied her eyeliner, then checked it in her mirror.
“Wow, miss. You’ve got some serious skills, putting on makeup in a moving car like that.”
“That’s only because you’re such a great driver, sir.”
The driver laughed, flattered.
“Mind if I crack the window? I need to dry my hair.”
“Of course. Natural wind, coming right up.”
Cool air streamed in, drying her damp hair as she mentally reviewed the day’s agenda.
The first was a 6 a.m. breakfast meeting—a monthly book discussion with CEOs.
“Ah, today’s the book club session.”
Just as she remembered which book it was, the taxi pulled up to the mansion.
“Thank you. Have a great day.”
After punching in the door code, she stepped inside.
“It’s been a while.”
A whole month felt like forever.
Usually, this early in the morning, Tae-gun would be downstairs on the sofa, sipping his strong espresso.
“Why isn’t he down yet?”
The second floor was strictly his private space. Even though she was his executive secretary, there were unspoken rules—especially since they were opposite sexes. She had never gone up uninvited.
But if he didn’t come down soon, they’d be late. And with that crowd of CEOs, punctuality was absolute.
Her worry got the better of her. She climbed the stairs.
“Vice-President?”
Silence. As if no one were home. She checked the dressing room, the powder room—nothing.
Only one place left. The bedroom.
Knock, knock.
“Vice-President, it’s me.”
No answer.
Slowly, she pressed the door handle. A soft breeze slipped through the cracked window, fluttering the silk curtains.
Pale dawn light fell across the bed. Tae-gun lay sprawled there, bare-chested, headset still clamped over his ears, covers kicked aside.
Cautiously, Bom stepped closer. His messy bangs brushed across his closed eyes. Without their sharp glint, his long lashes gave him an unexpectedly gentle look. His nose, lips, and sculpted muscles—it was like staring at a piece of art.
She tore her gaze away, focusing instead on the phone in his hand. What on earth had he been listening to that made him sleep so deeply?
It would be better to turn off the audio than to wake him by pulling off the headset.
Reaching carefully, she grasped his phone.
Rustle—
Suddenly, Tae-gun’s upper body shot upright. His hand clamped firmly around her wrist.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
