Chapter 23
“That’s… we’re not the kind of relationship where we can laugh comfortably together.”
Sorim tried to respond logically, but unlike usual, Taeha reacted emotionally.
“So you’re comfortable with that old chef?”
“……He’s not that old. And we connect professionally.”
“Connect, huh.”
Taeha tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Everything about it irritated him.
He had bought her with money, but they were bound by something called “cooking.”
It felt like a world he couldn’t easily intrude upon—a world Sorim might someday leave him for. The thought was absurd, yet it lingered.
If he wanted to keep this woman completely under his control, he needed a stronger shackle.
One no one else could dare touch.
He needed to slap the name Song Taeha firmly and loudly in front of Yoon Sorim.
“The article goes out tomorrow.”
Sorim asked as he turned the wheel.
“What article?”
“The marriage announcement.”
Sorim’s eyes widened.
“So suddenly? I’m not even prepared yet—”
“There’s no reason to delay. Both families have agreed, we’re already living together. What’s the problem?”
His tone was decisive.
The real reason—his hatred of seeing other men hovering around her—he didn’t bother explaining.
“Get ready. By tomorrow morning, the entire country will know your name.”
“……Do whatever you want. My opinion doesn’t really matter anyway.”
Sorim turned her gaze out the window, resignation settling in.
From the beginning, it hadn’t been an offer she could refuse.
He was the one with power. She was nothing but the subordinate.
Still, the bitterness lingered.
The intense sense of achievement and freedom she’d felt at the restaurant moments ago now felt like it had been locked back behind cold iron bars with a single sentence.
“I can still go to the restaurant, right?”
She asked quietly after a long silence.
“Even if the marriage is announced, I want to remain Chef Yoon Sorim.”
Stopped at a traffic light, Taeha glanced at her.
Her eyes wavered slightly—but the resolve inside them was firm.
“I can’t promise you that.”
“…What?”
Sorim stared at him, but Taeha continued calmly, meeting her gaze.
“You’re Yoonsan’s daughter-in-law, not someone stuck in a kitchen cooking all day.”
“Wait—that’s not what we agreed on!”
“Cook somewhere else. But it’d be best to slowly wrap things up at your current restaurant.”
“Song Taeha.”
“I won’t tolerate my woman looking cheap.”
With that, Taeha faced forward, his expression unyielding.
The car cut through the darkness toward the penthouse.
Just as Taeha promised, everything would change by tomorrow.
The youngest cook, Yoon Sorim, would disappear.
In her place would stand Yoon Sorim, Cinderella of a chaebol family.
Biting her lip, Sorim stared at her reflection in the glass.
