Psst! We're moving!
Jung-hyuk applied relentless friction to Seo-yeon’s inner walls. A squelching, obscene sound filled the air. His manhood moved rhythmically back and forth, occasionally varying the rhythm to rub against her clitoris. Each time, Seo-yeon’s waist twisted wildly.
“Ah, just a moment... haa, ahhh.”
Seo-yeon’s moans were as delicate as sobs. She had reached countless peaks of ecstasy, losing count of how many times. Then, Jung-hyuk ejaculated, pouring hot liquid into her womb.
Seo-yeon relaxed her muscles as if fainting, sprawling out. Jung-hyuk lifted her again, laid her on the bed, and gently wiped away the evidence of their climax flowing from her vulva.
The moment his still-warm lips touched her forehead, Seo-yeon averted her gaze from Jung-hyuk and closed her eyes.
After confirming that Seo-yeon had fallen asleep, Jung-hyuk listened to her soft breathing for a long time. He stepped onto the terrace and habitually took out a cigarette, lighting it. He deeply inhaled the cigarette filter. Nicotine awakened his senses. A cold light appeared on his face.
If he could devour this woman, an oasis who poured water into his dry, desolate heart, how ecstatic and sweet would the taste be? But he might never taste it. Salvation might not be granted to a beast.
He exhaled pale smoke into the vast, dark night sky several times, muttering in a low voice.
“Let’s keep this a secret from Mom, Seo-yeon.”
Before even deciding on the store name “Café L’amant,” Jung-hyuk urgently decided to return to Korea for one reason: his abnormal brother, Shin Jin-hyeok, had approached Seo-yeon, and he felt a strange sense of responsibility to protect her. In retrospect, it might have been an opportunity and justification to reunite with Seo-yeon.
Jung-hyuk didn’t believe in love. But if love was related to obsession, then it was a different story. In that case, he definitely loved Seo-yeon, very deeply.
In high school, after giving Seo-yeon a wound that shook her daily life, Jung-hyuk went to study in the United States, often suffering as if he had caught a terrible contagious disease. A psychiatric resident who became close to him teased him, calling it lovesickness, and asked,
“Shin Jung-hyuk, of all people, has lovesickness? Why did you break up with the woman you were so crazy about? Surely, you weren’t the one who got dumped?”
“I dumped her, in a very cruel and despicable way.”
“Huh? How exactly?”
“...I made a bet with that proud girl. I had to take revenge.”
“Revenge? Were you dating a really bad woman?”
“No, that girl did nothing wrong. I wanted to take revenge on my stepmother.”
The psychiatric resident tilted his head, asking,
“You wanted to take revenge on your stepmother... why did you hurt that girl?”
Jung-hyuk smiled bitterly instead of answering.
In high school, Jung-hyuk dated a girl who shone brightly, Han Seo-yeon. If asked why, the answer was simple: they liked each other. The beginning was sincere. He wanted to melt into Seo-yeon’s daily life. He wanted to enter her fresh, vibrant world.
At that time, he even considered going to the same university as Seo-yeon or persuading her to study abroad with him. But instead of confessing his true feelings to Seo-yeon, he announced their breakup in the middle of the classroom, saying, “Thanks to your cooperation, I won the bet. As expected, Han Seo-yeon, you love money. You’re an easy woman who’d give up her heart for money.”
Like shattered glass, Seo-yeon collapsed, and unable to bear watching, he went abroad. It was a cowardly escape.
If asked why he did such a thing, the answer was complicated.
Jung-hyuk accidentally found mail addressed to his stepmother, Park Yeo-wan. The sender was “Hansarang Orphanage,” and the content was “Thank you for your generous annual donations.”
Jung-hyuk knew Hansarang Orphanage well. He had taken his girlfriend Seo-yeon to the orphanage several times. It was then that Jung-hyuk noticed a shocking fact: his beautiful stepmother, Park Yeo-wan, and his girlfriend, Han Seo-yeon, looked strikingly similar.
He needed confirmation. Jung-hyuk found the number labeled “Sponsorship” on his stepmother’s phone and called. Before Jung-hyuk could speak, a middle-aged man’s voice was heard. It was the orphanage director.
“Mrs. Park Yeo-wan, Seo-yeon is being well taken care of. Don’t worry too much.”
Although they weren’t blood-related, they were, in a way, siblings. Jung-hyuk felt a strong urge to twist his stepmother Park Yeo-wan’s neck. It was infuriating to see her abandoning her own child in an orphanage while coming into a chaebol family and devoting herself to other people’s children. The arrow of anger was aimed at innocent Seo-yeon.
That night, Jung-hyuk cursed both his stepmother and Han Seo-yeon, who had tormented him. He wanted to hurt them, and he achieved his goal. He gave Seo-yeon a cruel breakup notice and began to completely ignore his stepmother, Park Yeo-wan.
Back then, Jung-Hyuk had no idea that his impulsive decision during his reckless youth would also shatter his own life. After parting ways with Seo-Yeon, not once had he been free from the ghost of her memory.
---
Perhaps it was thanks to the devilish yet protective presence of Shin Jung-Hyuk, but Seo-Yeon slept soundly through the night without any nightmares.
Time flowed cruelly onward, and Monday morning arrived.
Though it was still early spring, the morning sun blazed as if it were summer. The sky was an impossibly vivid blue, making her feel as though she’d lost all sense of the seasons.
Seo-Yeon dragged her heavy body through the revolving doors of Yeseong Building. As she stepped into the building’s lobby, an unmistakable sense of foreboding pierced her chest. Her sluggish steps weren’t solely due to the Monday blues.
“Strange rumors must be spreading like wildfire by now. Being called into the audit team, getting slapped by the HR manager’s wife… What a tumultuous life I’m living, Han Seo-Yeon.”
She exhaled a shallow sigh and steeled herself. The sight of Café R.A.M. to her right provided some comfort.
It felt as though she now had a safe house to run to in times of trouble. Strange, how she found solace in the presence of Shin Jung-Hyuk, one of the most dangerous people she knew. A wistful mutter escaped her lips.
“Is this Stockholm Syndrome? I’m completely done for.”
At that moment, through the café’s glass windows, she spotted someone waving exaggeratedly. It was Ethan, his silvery hair catching the light, ever the cheerful soul.
When Seo-Yeon responded with a bright smile, as if infected by his cheerfulness, Ethan waved even more vigorously. He was signaling for her to come inside.
Glancing at her wristwatch to check the time, Seo-Yeon saw she still had some leeway before work. An Americano was just what she needed on such a mentally taxing commute, so she gladly pushed open the door to Café R.A.M.
Ethan sprang up like a coiled spring to greet her. With plenty of baristas around, Ethan focused solely on Seo-Yeon. Though she was technically his rival—being both the café owner and Jung-Hyuk’s lover—Seo-Yeon’s likable personality made Ethan genuinely fond of her.
“Unni! You know the people from JB Company are regulars here, right? Um… I sort of found out by accident.”
Ethan awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he continued.
“If you could just chalk it up to occupational hazard, I’d appreciate it. My actual job is being a mole, after all.”
Seo-Yeon laughed aloud, as if finally relaxing. Ethan found her laughter oddly endearing. Handing her an iced Americano, he said,
“The boss isn’t here yet. His main gig is being a second-generation chaebol heir, so these days he’s only making appearances to keep up appearances.”
Seo-Yeon, secretly cherishing the memory of Jung-Hyuk seeing her off this morning, teased lightly,
“Oh, I heard. Apparently, the building owner’s hobby is brewing coffee?”
Ethan smirked. The man didn’t even know how to brew coffee properly, yet here he was spinning lies.
“Anyway, the boss isn’t here, but if you call him, he’ll come running. If you’re in a pinch, call me instead. I’ve got connections everywhere.”
“You’re incredibly reliable. Seriously.”
“I’m not joking. You can really call me. Whether it’s Itaewon or Jongno… No one has better connections than me. Even the trans unni crowd knows me well.”
Ethan deliberately chose exaggerated words to make Seo-Yeon laugh again. He knew today wouldn’t be easy for her and hoped to lighten her mood, even slightly. Thankfully, Seo-Yeon burst into hearty laughter, bending over with amusement. Ethan’s face lit up with satisfaction.
“Thank you. I feel like I’ve only said mean things, yet you’re helping me so much. I’ll definitely treat you to a meal sometime.”
As Seo-Yeon turned to leave, she suddenly stopped and added,
“Oh, right. Thanks for the free coffee grounds. Fairy of the silver hair.”
“Go get ‘em. Fighting! Pretty unni.”
Seo-Yeon took a sip of her coffee. The caffeine coursed through her veins, invigorating her, and she marched toward the office with renewed energy.
“Oh my, Miss Han…”
A few minutes later, as Seo-Yeon was about to enter the office, she ran into Kim Min-Ah, who was just stepping out. For a brief moment, an uncomfortable expression flickered across Min-Ah’s face.
Seo-Yeon knew that Min-Ah had falsely reported her to the audit team, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted her calmly.
“Good morning, Miss Kim.”
True to form, Min-Ah avoided Seo-Yeon’s gaze, staring into the air as she replied.
“Yes, good morning, Miss Han.”
Seo-Yeon thought to herself, Well, it was a good morning until I ran into you.
The awkwardness of the conversation was mutual, but Min-Ah made no effort to hide her discomfort.
How could someone with such a small heart dare to ruin another person’s life without getting their hands dirty? Seo-Yeon found Min-Ah’s audacity infuriating.
Min-Ah’s dejected demeanor only irritated Seo-Yeon further. Unable to hold back, she asked,
“Don’t you have something to say to me?”
Min-Ah glanced at Seo-Yeon, her voice trembling as she replied,
“...No, why would I?”
With similar educational backgrounds and the same workplace, why did Han Seo-Yeon always carry herself with such confidence, as if untouched by the world’s cruelty? Min-Ah grew fearful of the steely resolve hidden beneath Seo-Yeon’s beautiful exterior. Facing her composed expression was unbearable, so Min-Ah hurriedly excused herself.
Seo-Yeon called out to Min-Ah’s retreating back.
“You look pale. Like someone with a guilty conscience.”
Seo-Yeon feigned a warm smile, but her words carried the sharp edge of a blade. The pointed barb struck directly at Kim Min-Ah’s already fragile heart. The old saying, “A guilty conscience is a heavy burden,” rang true—Min-Ah felt chills run down her spine.
Stopping in her tracks, Min-Ah spoke without turning around, her voice trembling faintly.
“I... I haven’t done anything wrong. Why are you saying this to me? I haven’t done anything!”
I knew you’d say that. There’s no evidence that you falsely reported me to the audit team.
“That’s right. Miss Kim Min-Ah, I sincerely hope you continue to have nothing to feel guilty about.”
With a derisive smirk, Seo-Yeon turned and walked down the office hallway. Though no one openly stared, sidelong glances rained down on her from every direction. She subtly clenched her teeth, careful not to show any outward signs of discomfort. Finally, as she reached her desk, her eyes caught sight of Jin-Hyuk.
The worry and compassion flickering in his gentle brown eyes offered her a quiet comfort.
Jin-Hyuk half-rose from his seat, then, after checking his surroundings, sat back down. Seo-Yeon, fully aware of his intentions, gave him a bright smile before tapping the power button on her laptop.