TC 15

Chapter 15

Clothes and accessories prepared in advance by Tae-ha’s secretaries were laid out in the living room.

Seated on the sofa reviewing documents, Tae-ha spoke in a businesslike tone without even looking at Sorim.

“Go wash up and change. You’ve got thirty minutes.”

Despite the words sounding more like an order than a request, Sorim went upstairs without complaint.

The outfit prepared for her was a deep navy dress.

Neat and elegant—perfect for playing the role of a “future chaebol daughter-in-law.”

Sorim looked at the unfamiliar woman reflected in the mirror.

She was wearing glamorous clothes that didn’t suit her life at all, yet her eyes were as dry and lifeless as ever.

This is work. A part-time job with insanely high pay.

Repeating that to herself, Sorim went back downstairs.

Tae-ha, who had been waiting, stood up.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he looked—much to her annoyance—exceptionally impressive even to her eyes.

His indifferent gaze scanned her from head to toe, not with admiration but like someone inspecting merchandise.

“Not bad.”

After the brief evaluation, he stepped closer.

Then, without warning, he reached out and lightly tapped near her eye.

“But there’s one thing that bothers me.”

“What is it?”

“That lens. Take it out.”

Sorim’s eyes widened.

“I don’t think I can do that—”

“What’s the problem? That eye is what I like most.”

“This is a meeting with elders. Standing out won’t help. I don’t want to give them anything to criticize.”

She argued calmly. More than anything, she wanted to get through this quietly.

But Tae-ha scoffed.

“Don’t misunderstand. We’re not going there to be judged. We’re going to inform them. Of what kind of woman Song Tae-ha chose.”

“……”

“And I hate fakes. Especially for someone standing beside me.”

His gaze was coercive—an unspoken pressure that made it clear refusal wasn’t an option.

Sorim pressed her lips together, stared him down for a moment, then sighed and nodded.

“…Alright.”

She washed her hands and removed her lenses without hesitation.

As the dark covering vanished, her clear, cold blue eyes were revealed.

Her left eye was a deep ocean blue, her right a dark brown—an unmistakable case of heterochromia.

Sorim, who considered her left eye a curse, looked up at Tae-ha with a blank expression.

“Is that enough?”

Tae-ha was silent for a moment.

His gaze stayed fixed on her eyes, unwilling to let go.

It wasn’t just appreciation—it was a strange, possessive glint.

“…Yes. Much better.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in satisfaction.

“Let’s go. We’re running late.”

He didn’t take her hand. Instead, he walked ahead.

Sorim followed quietly, like a shadow trailing its owner.

* * *

The massive gates opened, and the sedan stopped in front of an enormous garage.

The estate radiated even more intimidation than the Yeonhui-dong house, but Sorim bit her lower lip to keep from shrinking back.

This wasn’t a future in-laws’ home.

It was a workplace.

Thinking that way calmed her mind.

“Nervous?”

After getting out of the car, Tae-ha placed his hand naturally on Sorim’s waist.

The touch looked affectionate, but there was a subtle control to it.

Sorim unconsciously tensed her shoulders and nodded slightly.

“…A little. Not too much.”

“Remember this. You’re the woman I chose. I won’t let anyone look down on you. Not even my father.”

It didn’t sound like comfort.

It sounded like an owner declaring he wouldn’t allow damage to his property.

Caught in that strange realization, Sorim followed him silently into the house.

Employees lined the long hallway on both sides, bowing as they passed.

As they entered the living room, heavy silence fell—and eyes locked onto them.

Seated at the center was Song Ilsang, chairman of Yoonsan Group.

Beside him sat the elegant Madam Oh Hui-ok.

Across from them, legs crossed and holding a tablet, was the eldest son, Song Tae-hyeon.

“……”

Chairman Song’s sharp gaze swept over Sorim.

“You’ve arrived.”

His deep, commanding voice carried an authority that allowed no defiance.

Yet Tae-ha, unfazed, led Sorim forward with his usual composure.

“Father, this is the person I told you about.”

Sorim bowed politely, just as she had practiced.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Yoon Sorim.”

Thankfully, her voice didn’t shake.

She was wearing the mask of “Song Tae-ha’s woman” perfectly.

Chairman Song responded by lifting his teacup and taking a sip.

The silence stretched, as if testing her.

Finally, he set the cup down and stared directly into her eyes.

Her odd eyes.

Two mismatched colors meeting his gaze.

“You have unusual eyes.”

“Father.”

Tae-ha warned quietly, but the chairman continued without concern.

“You’re the Frenchman’s daughter, aren’t you? The one who ran a restaurant in Hannam-dong.”

Sorim widened her eyes in surprise and nodded.

“…Yes. That’s right.”

“He was talented. A waste to lose him like that.”

A faint smile crossed the chairman’s lips—neither warm nor kind, merely formal.

“Let’s eat.”

Even while moving to the dining room, Tae-ha stayed close to Sorim.

As soon as they sat down, Tae-hyeon spoke with a peculiar smile.

“Tae-ha, you really are something. Even your older brother hasn’t married yet, and you’re rushing into it—with such a unique woman, no less?”

It was a veiled insult.

But one Sorim was used to.

She calmly placed her napkin on her lap.

Tae-ha lifted his water glass and replied coldly.

“You’re just slow. Too busy looking up at places beyond your reach.”

“What did you say, you little—”

“And since she’ll be family soon, maybe watch your mouth. I can tolerate insults toward me, but insulting my person is unpleasant.”

Tae-ha’s eyes flashed dangerously.

Tae-hyeon scoffed in disbelief, then shut his mouth.

Sorim quietly took a sip of water.

She appreciated Tae-ha defending her—but she also knew it was calculated.

His pride wouldn’t allow the woman he brought to be looked down on.

“So, when are you planning to hold the wedding?” Chairman Song asked.

Tae-ha answered casually.

“We’re skipping the ceremony. We’ll just register the marriage.”

The chairman’s eyebrow twitched.

“What? The second son of Yoonsan gets married without a ceremony? That’s absurd.”

“Tae-ha, isn’t skipping the wedding a bit much?” his mother added.

But Tae-ha shook his head again.

“You know I hate noisy, flashy events. And—”

He looked at Sorim.

“She isn’t ready yet. She needs time to adjust to sudden changes, and she’s not exactly alone right now. Stability comes first.”

Sorim nearly spat out her water.

Not alone—that wasn’t in the script.

Yet Tae-ha lied shamelessly without blinking.

Madam Oh covered her mouth, eyes wide.

“Oh my… could it be that there’s already good news?”

“We’re trying. So please don’t call Sorim out for a while.”

Tae-ha gently covered the back of Sorim’s hand and smiled affectionately.

Behind that smile was a silent command to play along.

Sorim smiled awkwardly and lowered her head.

“…I’m sorry, Father. I’m not very healthy…”

“Hmph. Unbelievable.”

The chairman clicked his tongue, but the word grandchild silenced his objections.

After the strange meal—where no one knew if food was even going down—the tea was served.

The chairman set down his cup and gestured to Tae-ha and Tae-hyeon.

“You two, come to the study. We need to discuss business.”

Tae-ha frowned and looked at Sorim, clearly reluctant to leave her alone.

“…I’ll be right back. Call me if anything happens.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

Once Tae-ha left, only Madam Oh and Sorim remained in the living room.

Madam Oh lifted her teacup gracefully and stared at Sorim.

“Young lady. Or should I call you Sorim?”

“Please call me whatever’s comfortable, Mother.”

Sorim studied her quietly.

Despite hearing that her son was marrying a stranger, Madam Oh remained surprisingly calm.

Maybe Tae-ha took after her.

“Alright. Be honest with me. How did you meet Tae-ha? Are you really marrying him because you love him?”