Chapter 4
When Ahan reached even this year without dating a single woman, Seook quietly began to worry.
She couldn’t force her son to confront the wounds he still carried from the past.
And if she stopped him now—after he had finally made a decision of his own—he might spend the rest of his life alone.
He was more than capable of doing exactly that.
So, burdened with guilt, Seook secretly had someone keep an eye on where her son went and whom he met. Every day she feared that Ahan would discover what she had done.
But…
He had known all along.
Not only had he known, he had deliberately arranged this marriage while fully aware of her investigation.
Realizing that he had intentionally let her watch so she would come to understand everything on her own, Seook found herself speechless.
“You already know, don’t you?”
Instead of confronting her, Ahan had simply turned the situation around.
Without saying a single word, he had guided her to the answer herself.
“There wasn’t anyone.”
Even knowing how anxious she’d been about being caught…
How could he sound so calm?
“My son… you’re too intelligent. It’s frightening.”
A chill ran down Seook’s spine as she covered her forehead with one hand.
“Do you still think I’m a sociopath?”
The blunt word caught her completely off guard.
For the first time, Ahan had spoken it aloud himself.
“…Ahan.”
In the end, Seook accepted the situation.
She could no longer stop the marriage.
And the realization that her son had anticipated every step of her changing heart sent another shiver through her.
Ahan understood all of it.
The more calmly he spoke, the more grateful—and guilty—Seook felt toward the girl who had agreed to marry him.
Even her emotional response had been part of his calculations.
Ahan found almost everything bothersome.
Yet whenever he truly decided to do something…
He accomplished it flawlessly.
“So…” she asked carefully, “do you at least like that girl?”
Please.
Just say yes.
For a brief moment, Seook prayed with all her heart that the answer yes would leave her son’s lips.
“No.”
His reply came without hesitation.
His expression remained perfectly blank.
There wasn’t the slightest trace of emotion in his voice.
Just as I thought.
That wasn’t the face of a man in love.
And yet…
He undoubtedly liked the girl.
He simply didn’t realize it.
His silent gaze revealed nothing but a possessive desire to keep her close, without understanding what those feelings truly were.
Seook couldn’t fully decipher the look in his eyes.
But she was certain of one thing.
If that possessiveness ever transformed completely into love…
The journey would be agonizing.
She could already imagine how disastrous it might become.
“Then why are you getting married?”
Seook asked at last, sounding as though she’d completely surrendered.
The refined features she usually wore had twisted into frustration.
“Because I want to date.”
Ahan’s answer was astonishingly simple.
A man who claimed he was marrying because he wanted to date…
Was also a man who had never shared a relationship with anyone who wasn’t destined to become his wife.
He had always lived according to order and reason.
The few impulsive choices he had ever made somehow fit together so perfectly that they seemed destined from the beginning.
As though he’d spent his entire life practicing restraint solely for this moment.
Among the photographs scattered across the table, Ahan picked one up.
“They’re exactly the same.”
He murmured the words to himself.
The moment he saw Yeoreul again—
Now fully grown into an adult—
Every ounce of the self-restraint he’d maintained until now had become meaningless.
He didn’t know why.
But…
I think I could marry you.
I want you to exist within my plans.
* * *
The wedding date was approaching quickly, leaving very little time.
Not long after the matchmaking meeting, both families arranged to have a formal meal together.
The venue was a luxurious traditional Korean restaurant nestled against the backdrop of a quiet mountain.
After handing their cars to the valet, everyone walked through the beautifully maintained garden before entering a private room at the end of a long corridor.
Ahan and Yeoreul sat at the innermost seats.
Myeongseok and Taeha occupied the middle.
Seook and Miri sat at the far end.
For the first time, Yeoreul looked at Ahan’s father.
Woo Myeongseok.
Born to a British father and a Korean mother, Myeongseok possessed gentler features than his son.
Unlike Ahan’s cold, razor-sharp appearance, he carried himself with the quiet dignity of a true gentleman.
Only after taking his seat beside Yeoreul did Taeha fully realize where he was.
Everyone sitting across from him radiated the ease and refinement of people who had lived lives overflowing with wealth.
Standing on equal footing with one of the country’s old corporate dynasties filled him with both pride…
And greed.
As the conversation continued, Taeha discreetly observed Miri beside him.
She wore an outrageously expensive handbag, designer clothes, and luxury brands from head to toe.
Yet somehow…
Everything Seook wore looked even more expensive.
So that’s what true class looks like.
Miri answered only when spoken to.
Otherwise, she remained silent, looking like someone who wished she were anywhere else.
Seriously…
Taeha found his wife frustrating.
She simply couldn’t think beyond the present.
“I’ve heard your father was a famous novelist who graduated from Eton College.”
The moment Taeha addressed the CEO of J Corporation, his expression softened into a practiced smile.
“Haha. Yes. Thank you for recognizing him first.”
Brushing back his dark hair that shimmered faintly brown in the light, Myeongseok answered calmly.
“I bought his books myself. They were wonderful.”
“You actually purchased them yourself? My father would be delighted to hear that.”
Perhaps he’d inherited his father’s literary talent.
Myeongseok, blessed with exceptional reading comprehension, had once worked as a Korean language teacher during his younger years.
“Yes. The stories were truly excellent. Especially… how should I put it… They had such a unique way of observing the era through a cool, analytical perspective.”
Taeha awkwardly repeated the compliments he had memorized beforehand.
“It sounds like you read Slow People.”
Myeongseok smiled immediately, recognizing the title.
His refined manner of speaking didn’t seem reserved for formal occasions.
It felt like he spoke elegantly all the time.
“Ah… yes. That’s right.”
Even someone as violent and domineering as Taeha became remarkably polite in front of the J family.
This wasn’t even a business meeting.
Yet the family before him completely dominated the atmosphere with their effortless composure.
Right…
Such elegant people. The kind everyone treats like royalty.
Chewing thoughtfully on a piece of watery kimchi, Taeha cursed inwardly.
No matter how respectful he acted, he couldn’t bring himself to like the wealthy people seated across from him.
“I heard Miss Yeoreul is such an excellent student that she earned scholarships.”
Myeongseok smiled warmly as he offered the compliment.
“It seems you’ve supported her greatly during what must have been a difficult adolescence.”
Taeha lifted his chin proudly.
“Ah, well… did I really do anything? She’s accomplished everything through her own efforts.”
The moment his broad hand settled over her narrow shoulders…
Yeoreul’s face darkened instantly.
It felt as though every drop of blood in her body had frozen.
Her father’s gaze silently pressured her.
Speak.
Say what you’re supposed to say.
The invisible weight squeezed the air from her lungs.
“F-Father… h-helped… me… a lot.”
The tiny tremor in her frightened voice revealed just how terrified she truly was.
I haven’t done anything.
Why are you acting scared again?
Useless girl.
Taeha shot his daughter an irritated glance.
“She’s gentle and a little naïve, but she’s inherited my determination. Once she decides on something, she sees it through.”
Chuckling, he continued talking.
Meanwhile, Yeoreul nervously picked at her fingernails.
Her palms had been sweating uncontrollably.
Carefully…
Very carefully…
She reached toward the tissue box.
Before her fingers could touch it—
Smack.
Taeha casually slapped the back of her hand beneath the edge of the table where no one would easily notice.
Startled, Yeoreul immediately pulled both hands beneath the table.
If you can’t help, then don’t do anything.
Just sit still.
His eyes cursed at her even without words.
Shrinking into herself, Yeoreul glanced nervously at her father.
Her hands trembled violently on her lap.
Throughout the entire exchange, Ahan remained silent.
His expression barely changed as he watched her.
Her face had turned ghostly pale.
She looked ready to run out of the room that very second.
Ahan finally shifted his gaze away from the girl who remained constantly on guard around her father.
Instead…
He looked at Taeha, who had already resumed chatting comfortably with Seook.
I can hear someone calling me.
“Excuse me.”
“Excuse me… over here.”
“Um… excuse me?”
The memory surfaced unexpectedly.
He remembered turning his head toward the unfamiliar voice.
A girl’s face entered his vision.
His reactions had been unusually slow.
He blinked several times before studying her features.
Their eyes met.
And stayed locked together.
“Who hit you?”
He remembered his own lips slowly forming the words.
The memory ended.
Leaning back into his chair, Ahan quietly considered the thought.
If my guess is right…
Then probably…
He reached toward Yeoreul’s water glass.
His fingers nudged it.
Just lightly.
Without the slightest hesitation.
The glass tipped over.
Water spilled across the table and poured directly onto Yeoreul’s lap.
Cold water soaked through her skirt.
“Ah…”
She let out a small cry before hurriedly standing.
“Can’t you be more careful?!”
Seeing the accident, Taeha exploded immediately.
Yeoreul’s face drained of all color.
“I’ve told you over and over to be carefu—”
His voice instinctively rose to a shout before he caught himself and lowered it.
Even so…
Yeoreul looked utterly terrified.
She had been so focused on watching her father’s every movement that she hadn’t even noticed the table.
She seemed convinced the accident had been entirely her own fault.
“My hand slipped.”
Ahan finally spoke.
His voice remained perfectly flat.
At once, everyone’s attention shifted away from Yeoreul…
And toward him.
The room fell into complete silence.
