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Chapter 22
He caressed Bada’s body gently, whispering obscene words in a graceful voice.
Bada’s body flared up instantly.
Unable to sleep, the two talked late into the night and early morning.
Was it the tropical warmth that made people feel relaxed? Or was it his kind, attentive gaze?
Unexpectedly, Bada opened up to him about her personal life.
Conflicts with her family, her father’s sudden death from a heart attack, and the harassment she had endured at her previous workplace.
River listened carefully, getting angry as if it were his own problem.
Yet, when it came to his own family and past, he remained completely silent.
He said he didn’t want to talk about bad memories.
Bada felt a little disappointed but chose to understand him. She thought that when enough time passed and she could earn his trust, he would eventually share.
Every night, Bada fell asleep in his arms. At those moments, he felt as intimate as the oldest of friends.
It was as if she had met him long ago, somehow.
Spending nearly 24 hours together, Bada came to know his preferences and habits in detail.
He had a compulsive exercise routine.
He never skipped a day of high-intensity weight training, and he surfed every day as well.
He was also extremely sensitive to sounds and external stimuli.
He could detect a hole in a drainage pipe from the sound of a falling droplet, or instantly notice when Morgan entered the villa.
He preferred black tea with a hint of mint over coffee.
Bada explored his dressing room as well.
Upon entering, the room smelled of high-end fragrances blending bergamot, musk, and patchouli.
Behind the sliding doors were Turnbull & Asser custom shirts, midnight-blue wool blazers, perfectly polished Oxford shoes, cufflinks, Clive Christian perfume, and Goyard trunks.
‘A luxury tailor shop isn’t needed at all,’ she thought.
Yet, River often wore only comfortable linen shirts instead of these splendid clothes.
He claimed suits were boring—like James Bond, perhaps he only wore them for work?
He liked whiskey, insisted on Egyptian cotton sheets, and collected antique maps.
Despite his apparent wealth, he had a practical side.
He wore a $50 watch with a diver function in an unusual way—the face of the watch turned toward the underside of his wrist.
Seeing this, Bada remembered the protagonist in the movie John Wick wearing a watch the same way.
‘It’s supposedly how special forces wear watches, to avoid reflecting light and revealing their position,’ she thought.
Every time she noticed this, her suspicion that he might be a special agent deepened.
He also enjoyed repairing broken things himself, and sometimes just had a single protein bar as a meal.
Surprisingly, he liked heavy metal music.
Today, while she went out for coffee, he lay on a sunbed by the pool listening to music on a Bluetooth speaker.
When Bada returned and opened the terrace door, the sounds of screaming demons and metallic clashing filled the air.
Yet, his expression, lying back on the sunbed with his eyes closed, was perfectly calm.
It was as if he were listening to classical music, not heavy metal.
Noticing her, he slowly sat up and turned off the speaker.
Bada teased him playfully:
“Is this your lullaby?”
“Something like that. Sometimes my mind is noisy like a battlefield, so I drown it out with music even louder than that. Come here.”
He pulled her wrist, seating her on his lap.
He took the coffee cup from her hands and placed it on the side table.
Grinning, he admired the sundress she wore—light yellow with white floral prints.
“You’re cute. The Irish-girl vibe suits you well too.”
Bada looked at him carefully and gently cupped his cheek.
“…What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, just… stuff.”
She carefully ran her finger over the scar on his neck.
‘How did this scar happen? He probably won’t tell me.’
He turned his head and held her hand to stop her—a signal to stop.
Bada withdrew her hand awkwardly.
‘It’s always like this. Some days I feel like I know everything about him, and other days, like I know nothing.’
River smoothly changed the topic.
“You? What kind of music do you like?”
“Hmm, I like old pop. In high school, I liked my literature teacher, and sometimes she played old pop in class. I also like old-school R&B, house music… and even country music.”
“Country music?”
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Representing the American Southwest, country music was, in a sense, America’s trot music. Not exactly the type of songs most girls Bada’s age would listen to.
“I stayed at a friend’s house in Kentucky every summer during school. They ran a huge ranch and resort, and her older brother Jacob sometimes took me to a country pub.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“Jacob, huh.”
“….”
“Annoying name.”
He buried his nose in the hair he held.
“But it doesn’t matter. Anyway…”
He tugged the strap of Bada’s sundress down and left a lingering kiss on her upper chest.
After pulling back, he stared at her sun-kissed bikini line.
The areas not exposed to the sun were notably fairer.
His Adam’s apple moved as his fingers traced along her tan lines.
“Sexy.”
“Didn’t you get too much sun?”
“No, it’s like cappuccino-colored—pretty.”
“….”
“And tastes just as good as cappuccino.”
He lightly sucked on her upper chest as if tasting coffee.
“…Huh.”
Every spot his lips touched seemed to leave a burning mark.
Looking down, she saw his long eyelashes and the red tip of his tongue moving.
It was far too provocative for broad daylight.
Breathing heavily, he pulled back his lips and said,
“I want to try something.”
“Hm?”
He reached for sunscreen on the side table, squeezing some onto his fingertip and drawing a heart on her shoulder.
Bada’s ears flushed pink at the sight, feeling like a girl receiving her first love confession.
“What’s this?”
“If you leave it like this, the sunlight will only tan the surrounding skin, leaving the heart mark—like a tattoo.”
“But it’s not real. It’ll disappear eventually.”
“Not really. On the surface it may seem gone, but under the skin, the sunburn leaves a mark.”
It was as if he wanted to leave a trace on her body, a sign that she belonged to him.
Bada silently watched his breathtakingly beautiful face.
It felt strange.
Sometimes looking at him reminded her of bittersweet memories, as if evoking a first love.
She looked down at the sunscreen mark on her shoulder.
A heart shape.
It felt as if she had just received a love confession from him.
Late at night, Bada woke to the sound of rough waves outside the window.
The cold air from the air conditioner sent shivers through her body.
“Ah… so cold.”
She fumbled for the remote to lower the AC temperature, but the spot beside her was empty.
“….”
River was gone.
