RB - 12

After Seo-yeon left. 

Shin Jung-hyuk remained seated at the dining table, pulling out another cigarette. With a dry flick of his wrist, he lit the lighter and brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette. He tilted his head slightly as he exhaled a long stream of smoke. 

On the floor lay the scattered remains of the meal: an overturned soup bowl, thrown chopsticks and spoon, and side dishes strewn about in disarray. 

The havoc wreaked by the fiery Han Seo-yeon was something Jung-hyuk quietly observed with detached amusement. 

Several minutes earlier. 

“Ah, this? Cigarette smoke isn’t good for the baby.” 

…At Jung-hyuk’s words, Seo-yeon turned pale and clutched her lower abdomen, asking in a trembling voice: 

“Did we… sleep together?” 

Instead of answering, Jung-hyuk offered a leisurely smile. Seo-yeon’s frail shoulders began to shake uncontrollably. 

The “day” Jung-hyuk had mentioned—fifteen days ago—was the day Seo-yeon had gotten her period. Which meant that yesterday, when she had fallen asleep in his bed, was during her fertile window. 

The fact that Jung-hyuk knew such intimate details about her cycle—and had even mentioned a “fetus”—left her reeling. Fighting back tears welling up in her eyes, she managed to speak through gritted teeth: 

“I need to go to the gynecologist. There are clinics open on Sundays, so I’ll hurry and take the pill…” 

Jung-hyuk asked in a cold, cutting tone, his brown eyes glinting with winter-like frost—or perhaps malice. 

“What pill?” 

“Don’t play dumb. The morning-after pill, obviously.” 

Seo-yeon still clutched her lower abdomen tightly, while Jung-hyuk briefly imagined a child growing there—a child who might resemble him. 

He, along with his younger brother Shin Jin-hyuk and their father, Chairman Shin Taemyung, were all cut from the same cursed cloth: incapable of empathy, tainted by a lineage they despised. 

For a fleeting moment, Jung-hyuk entertained the thought that if his genes were mixed with hers, perhaps a slightly purified child could be born. But just as quickly, he dismissed the idea as absurd. 

Watching Seo-yeon panic, her face drained of color as she insisted on taking the emergency contraceptive pill, Jung-hyuk grew increasingly irritated. 

“It was a joke. You don’t need to go to the gynecologist today.” 

“…Really? Nothing happened between us?” 

Relief washed over Seo-yeon’s face, but witnessing it only pushed Jung-hyuk’s patience to its limit. 

“I have no intention of raising the heir to the Taesung Group in your womb, so snap out of it.” 

“What?” 

“Han Seo-yeon, who loves money—what do you think is the fastest way for you to climb the social ladder? But let me make one thing clear: don’t get any ideas. It’s not like you’re the only woman who’s ever been in my bed.” 

“…The reason I made a deal with you was because my livelihood depended on it. You have no right to belittle my labor, whether you’re a chaebol or not.” 

Her lips quivered as she forced the words out, but she didn’t stop there. 

“And let me make this perfectly clear—I have no intention of climbing the social ladder through you. Nor do I want to carry the child of someone like you, a monster.” 

“Last night, your body seemed to tell a different story. I’ve seen plenty of women strip and throw themselves at me, but ones who collapse into my arms unconscious? Not really my type.” 

Thud. 

The spoon Seo-yeon threw hit Jung-hyuk’s chest before clattering to the floor. Losing all composure, she hurled the soup bowl and side dishes onto the marble floor. 

Crash! Smash! 

The glassware shattered into countless pieces, scattering sharp fragments across the floor. But nothing compared to the mess of tears streaking down Seo-yeon’s cheeks. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she grabbed her bag and stormed toward the entrance. 

BANG!

Seo-yeon slammed the door with such force it seemed it might shatter, leaving behind an eerie silence that settled heavily over the vast house. 

Jung-hyuk smirked faintly. He was, after all, a beast beyond redemption. 

The relief in her eyes at the certainty that she would never bear his child—it was almost unbearable for him to witness. Better to drive her into a frenzy than endure that look of reprieve. 

His hollow gaze drifted toward the bedroom. Through the half-open door, he could see the neatly folded bedding Seo-yeon had arranged. 

Last night. 

After bringing the heavily intoxicated Seo-yeon home, Jung-hyuk had personally changed her clothes. If he were to justify his actions, it was because she had complained about how uncomfortable her tight-fitting clothes felt and promptly stripped them off herself. 

As he gazed upon her exposed body, Jung-hyuk summoned every ounce of his superhuman self-control. Worried she might catch a cold, he dressed her in one of his own t-shirts. 

Seemingly more comfortable, Seo-yeon lay down on the bed and soon closed her eyes. 

Sitting beside her, Jung-hyuk observed her pitiful face multiple times. Sensing that staying any longer might lead to trouble, he rose to leave. 

But just then, Seo-yeon grabbed his wrist. 

Her eyes were half-open, caught somewhere between dream and reality, as she asked him: 

“…I thought we really liked each other. So why did you do that to me? You could’ve just said we should break up… Did it have to be that way?” 

Instead of answering, Jung-hyuk remained silent. Soon, the sound of her quiet sobs filled the room. 

She cried so sorrowfully that it seemed she was reliving a dream from her high school days. 

Jung-hyuk sat back down beside her and gently lifted her limp body. 

“You should dream sweet dreams, Seo-yeon.” 

Half-rising, Seo-yeon suddenly collapsed into his arms. His kiss was inevitable. 

There was no way in the world he could have resisted her. 

Their breaths mingled stickily, saliva exchanged, and the quiet room filled with the desperate sounds of their gasps. Jung-hyuk’s hands tangled in her hair. 

Seo-yeon went further than the brief kiss they had shared during high school. Still sobbing, she accepted his tongue into her mouth. 

Jung-hyuk was like a horse whose reins had been cut loose, or an arrow released from its bowstring. Roughly lifting the t-shirt he had dressed her in, his hands moved swiftly to touch the peak of her pert breasts. Grasping her slender waist firmly, he turned her around in an instant, and she instinctively braced herself against the bed, leaning forward. 

Jung-hyuk was relentless, like a storm surging forward. The flimsy piece of fabric covering her body was pushed up to her neck, and the small barrier of her panties was removed. 

Though she had no prior knowledge of such things, Seo-yeon instinctively tightened her arms, gripping the bedsheets in preparation—not knowing what she was doing but ready to endure the impending shock, or rather, pleasure. It was enough to fan the flames of Jung-hyuk’s desire. 

Swallowing hard, Jung-hyuk admired her figure. Starting from her delicate ankle, which seemed as though it could be encircled by a single hand, his gaze traveled upward along her straight, slender legs, swaying softly. Tilting his focus slightly higher, tracing the curve of her hips, his patience finally snapped. With a long finger, he stroked her entrance. 

The moment moisture seeped out, her moan erupted in perfect synchronization. 

“Ahn, haaah… ha…” 

Moved by her invitation, Jung-hyuk eagerly pressed into her opening. His finger slid smoothly along her inner walls, exploring the softness within. 

“Haa… haaat…” 

Short gasps escaped between Seo-yeon’s trembling red lips, followed by waves of intense, prolonged pleasure. Her pale body quivered, and her inner walls contracted and relaxed rhythmically. With his free hand, Jung-hyuk quickly unbuckled his belt. His swollen member emerged, its destination clear and singular. 

For a brief moment, Jung-hyuk hesitated. Was this debauchery? If it was, would he face consequences? But the overwhelming pleasure numbed his rationality, and he succumbed to its sweetness. 

Positioning himself at her entrance, Jung-hyuk pressed the tip of his hardness against her soft folds. The sensation of her slick membrane was the prelude to ecstasy. Her slippery arousal coated his glans, spreading wetness, and he carefully applied pressure as he gauged her readiness. 

Just as penetration was imminent, he suddenly froze. 

It was because of an unexpected word that slipped from Seo-yeon’s lips.

“I can’t. I had my period fifteen days ago. This is my fertile window. I don’t want your child.” 

Jung-hyuk felt as though icy water had been poured over his head, chilling his blood. 

Just minutes earlier, Seo-yeon had been clinging to him, her lips pressed against his, her face flushed with desire, her body burning hot like it had been scorched by fire. 

Her words—pleasure was one thing, but rejecting the idea of bearing his child—were cruel. A deep-rooted “contempt.” 

Jung-hyuk’s heart began to race. His gaze fell on her flat stomach. 

A base greed stirred within him—to enter her narrow passage and eventually cultivate an heir in that fertile soil. 

Seo-yeon still seemed lost in a dream, her eyes half-closed. Slowly, Jung-hyuk laid her down and pulled the blanket up to her neck. 

The woman who had set his blood racing just moments ago now drifted into a deep sleep, oblivious to everything. 

With a soft click, the bedroom door closed, leaving only the intermittent sound of Seo-yeon’s gentle breathing in the room. 

The following Monday morning at JB Company. 

Weekends were usually Seo-yeon’s time to recharge—sleeping in late, ordering delivery food, and binge-watching Netflix shows she’d missed during the week. 

But after her explosive confrontation with Shin Jung-hyuk, Seo-yeon was now suffering from a severe case of the Mondays. 

This sticky fatigue refused to lift, no matter how much rest she thought she’d gotten. 

On her way to work, Seo-yeon pulled out a tonic for energy. Just as she clicked open the bottle cap, Kim Min-a, another team leader, approached her desk. 

Leaning against the partition, Kim Min-a once again struck up a conversation with Seo-yeon, her words as meaningless as ever. 

“Oh my, Miss Han, look how dull your skin looks. Age doesn’t spare anyone, you know. Instead of this stuff, why don’t you try some herbal medicine?” 

Seo-yeon swallowed her sigh along with a gulp of the tonic. 

Kim Min-a, someone Seo-yeon wasn’t particularly close to, had recently been visiting her desk more often than usual. 

Her intentions were transparent, almost naive: to casually greet Shin Jin-hyuk, who sat diagonally across from Seo-yeon, and subtly undermine her rival, Han Seo-yeon. 

Fully aware of this, Seo-yeon looked up at Kim Min-a with a piercing gaze and said, 

“Are you not busy?” 

“Our accounting period just ended, so things are a bit slow right now.” 

Good for you, being so free. Did she really think boasting about having free time at work was impressive? Seo-yeon wanted to tell her that her real rival wasn’t herself but the “queen,” but this wasn’t the right place. 

“I’m quite busy. You know I’ve been working late every day.” 

“They say finishing tasks within the given time is also a skill…” 

What? Seo-yeon barely managed to suppress the string of curses bubbling up inside her. Honestly, this woman kept crossing the line. 

With a sharp glare, Seo-yeon rose from her seat. She didn’t want to start a fight—she intended to give her a polite but firm warning instead. 

“Would you like to step outside for a moment? I’ll buy you a coffee—” 

Before Seo-yeon could finish, Jin-hyuk’s crisp voice interrupted her. 

“Team Leader Kim Min-a, let’s grab a cup of coffee.” 

The obstacle had been swiftly removed by none other than Shin Jin-hyuk, her reliable junior colleague. After speaking, Jin-hyuk locked eyes with Seo-yeon. 

Shin Jin-hyuk—neatly groomed eyebrows, a sharp jawline, and a nose so straight it could cut glass. Yet, there was something delicate about his features. 

He smirked faintly, lifting the corner of his mouth toward Seo-yeon. For a fleeting moment, Seo-yeon felt an inexplicable sense of cruelty, but she quickly shook it off. 

Why? Because she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Kim Min-a’s spreading blush and triumphant grin. 

After twisting her body nervously a few times, Kim Min-a shyly nodded at Jin-hyuk, and the two left the office together. 

JB Company prided itself on being a forward-thinking IT company, offering perks like flexible working hours. But what did that matter? Seo-yeon was still miserable. 

Left alone in the suddenly quiet office, Seo-yeon plopped back into her seat and muttered under her breath, 

“Did he help me? Is this really a green light?”

After giving a casual shrug, Seo-yeon rolled her neck a few times from side to side and then fixed her gaze on the monitor. She had plenty of work to do today, as usual.