CBL Ch 13

Standing on the side of those wretched things for now, he would thoroughly win the hearts of the people and climb to the top. Then, he planned to change things one by one, putting everything back in its rightful place.

“Everything is for the sake of restoring order to the nation. Sweeping reforms and constitutional amendments are desperately needed.”

Kwak Bugyeong suddenly stopped looking at the screen and turned to his aide and nephew. His tongue seemed to loosen slightly, as if the alcohol had finally taken effect.

“By the way, Dohwan, have you found Yoo Hyunrak? I didn’t think the bastard would bolt so quickly after getting the money.”

“Not yet, but don’t worry, it’s only a matter of time. What concerns me more is that the twins’ whereabouts remain completely unknown.”

The man in his late thirties crushed a beer can slightly in his hand and tilted his head.

“Considering how well they’re hiding, someone must be helping them, but I can’t figure out who, Uncle.”

“Is it really impossible that they died in Hong Kong? Yoo Beomjin and Yoo Yijin were declared dead there after a long time too. Someone could’ve used their passports to get by immigration unnoticed.”

“Hard to say. I’ll keep looking for now. But don’t stress over it too much. They were the most neglected of Yoo Namcheol’s children. What could they possibly know?”

Jeon Dohwan replied indifferently. Although he was searching because Kwak Bugyeong was meticulously thorough in his purges, his instincts hadn’t wavered from the start.

“I still think Yoo Namcheol swindled you to blackmail you, Uncle. Maybe there was no ‘that thing’ to begin with. Otherwise, there’s no way we wouldn’t have found it after searching this thoroughly.”

“It’s for the one-in-a-million chance. As I said earlier, we can’t let our guard down.”

The beer can in his hand crumpled with a snap. Kwak Bugyeong’s slightly flushed face had stiffened again.

“If, as you say, it never existed, that would be a relief. But if it’s out there somewhere… there’s only one answer. We find it and destroy it for good before the election.”

Reaching the top might make it easier to find, but it could also make it harder. One misstep, and the opposition would pounce on him like a pack of wolves, making his position that much more precarious.

“Find them, dead or alive. Preferably dead, honestly.”

“Understood, Uncle. I’ll assign more personnel. Anyway, I’ll be meeting with J Construction’s people tomorrow.”

“Those gambling site folks? They’ve been dragging their feet. This is when it’d be great to get some help from Shinuehoe.”

Kwak Bugyeong cursed with frustration. Ever since those wet-behind-the-ears kids, Kwon Woohyuk and Kwon Siheon, inherited the family business, it had lost its edge.

Disgusting. They milked the system up until the last administration, and now they’re all about cash payments. Unlike the original founder, those grandsons are anything but accommodating.

‘I’m sorry, Assemblyman. Times have changed, and we need to be more cautious now. Without our help, your victory is already as good as certain. Please call on us again afterward.’

He recalled the eldest son of Shinmyeong Group, Kwon Woohyuk, feigning regret and concern a few months ago. It had been a crafty declaration of intent to stay out of the process entirely but get involved when Kwak became number one.

“Dohwan, this is the final bet. Give Shinuehoe a call.”

“What? But Kwon Woohyuk already declined….”

“That’s Shinmyeong Group. Kwon Siheon is Shinuehoe, isn’t he? Same family registry, but they’re practically separate organizations, aren’t they? I bet their people are separate too.”

“Understood. I’ll give it a shot.”

Not particularly hopeful, but it couldn’t hurt to try. It was an unwritten rule not to divulge details before approval anyway.

＊＊＊

The following evening, Kwon Siheon visited the hospital again.

“Planning to die alongside her?”

His voice was laced with sharp sarcasm, having heard reports that Yisoo was surviving solely on IV fluids, refusing to eat or drink.

“Lee Yihyun seems to be recovering. Judging by the way he’s been hounding Secretary Kim with daily calls, demanding to see you.”

Lying like a corpse, Yisoo barely managed to lift her body despite the pounding pain in her head.

“Yihyun… I need to talk to Yihyun…. No, I was at Sera’s villa….”

“Pull yourself together. We need to talk about the renewed contract.”

With a sigh, he sat on the head of the bed. He never sat by the foot or waist, always positioning himself close enough to reach her face with an outstretched hand. Then, with his piercing gaze fixed directly on hers, he spoke.

“The plan has gone awry.”

Kwon Siheon began to recount the outside news she needed to know, one dry detail at a time. Yoo Incheol was buried at the same memorial site as Yoo Yijin, Lee Yihyun had been told his sister was still recovering, and they were monitoring Kwak Bugyeong’s movements and associates.

Throughout his recount, he never once looked away from Yisoo’s vacant eyes.

“Yoo Yisoo’s second cousin once removed, Yoo Hyunrak, has also been taken care of—just as you wished,” he said.

At those words, the once lifeless, glassy eyes lit up with a dark vitality.

“I made sure it dragged on as long as possible in the most brutal way I know. Just as you wanted,” he added.

Yisoo’s fingers tightened at that remark. His tone was utterly dispassionate, devoid of warmth or concern, and could hardly be described as compassionate.

“I don’t think there’s any need to spell out the method.”

It was not the sort of demeanor one would expect toward someone who had recently witnessed their biological father being murdered right before their eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.

There was no reason to feel disappointed. This was exactly the kind of person Kwon Siheon was. She had seen every layer of his true nature countless times during their shared days under the same roof, on the same bed.

“Now it’s Yoo Yisoo’s turn to talk,” he said, his voice carrying a slight inflection of emotion.

“Find it, bury it, or confirm what it is that Kwak Bugyeong is so obsessively attached to—Yoo Namcheol’s legacy. Do you really know nothing about it? No suspicions?”

“We’ve been searching for it all along. Uncle, Attorney Jeong, Yihyun, and I—we all have. We’ve always been convinced there’s something more than just embezzled funds, even though we had no idea what exactly it was. The constant threats and the chase only confirmed it,” she explained.

Yoo Incheol’s death had solidified that suspicion: Kwak Bugyeong was hiding something so damning that exposing it could destroy not only his political career but also his life as an individual.

What could it possibly be? How grotesque and vile must the secret be for him to go to such lengths to bury it forever?

“So, you’re saying you haven’t uncovered a single thing,” Kwon Siheon replied, his cold voice snapping her back to reality.

“In any case, the ruling party’s candidate primary is a month away, and barring any surprises, Kwak Bugyeong will win. The presidential election is scheduled for mid-February next year.”

He acknowledged the possibility of Kwak Bugyeong becoming the final winner. The odds were fifty-fifty. Recent public opinion trends even seemed to be tilting in his favor.

“Over the next six months, Yoo Yisoo and Lee Yihyun will have to remain in hiding while uncovering that skeleton in Kwak Bugyeong’s closet. While he might not have explicitly mentioned you two, he’s probably still searching.”

It was likely. Furthermore, on the day Yoo Incheol died, there was a high probability that Yihyun and Yisoo had been spotted by the sniper. What were the chances that the sniper hadn’t seen them waiting at the gate when the target fell and they fled?

“Kwak Bugyeong will win the primary and has a good chance of winning the presidential election next year,” Kwon Siheon continued.

“Then… what happens after that?” Yisoo asked, almost biting her tongue at her own naive question. The answer was obvious. Even if she didn’t know much about politics or the intricacies of the situation, she could guess.

How much could a head of state do behind closed doors? Even after the election, Kwak Bugyeong would want to erase his past completely, striving for absolute perfection.

“What do you think happens?” Kwon Siheon’s voice was calm as he spelled it out. “It’ll all go to hell.”

“Rest assured. Until then, both you and Lee Yihyun will be safe,” he added.

“…”

“I always keep my promises. I despise backstabbing betrayal,” he said firmly.

“The election is in February next year. But didn’t you promise to protect Yihyun and me until my uncle’s… no, my father’s original sentence ends in May the year after next?” Yisoo asked, her voice catching.

She paused for a couple of seconds, struggling to continue before speaking again.

“Wasn’t that the agreement?”

“Yoo Incheol is dead,” he replied, his tone brutally matter-of-fact. “The intermediary tied to the contract is gone. Unless you offer something else in return, the contract is effectively nullified.”

His voice was chillingly calm.

“Maintaining the status quo until February is a courtesy on my part,” he added.

“…”

“Or we could reset the contract. If you have something new to offer or wish to renegotiate terms. Of course, you can break the contract now and leave—go wherever Lee Yihyun is or anywhere else,” he said.

Yisoo closed her eyes briefly and then reopened them, trying to read Kwon Siheon’s intentions.

Was he simply using his words to solidify his upper hand, knowing she had no real options? Or was he genuinely refusing to engage in any more losing deals?

“First, let’s establish that Kwon Siheon failed to fulfill the contract properly,” Yisoo began, clenching and unclenching her fists repeatedly. The lack of movement due to the IV drip had left her hands cold and her blood circulation sluggish.

“Kwon Siheon failed to honor the renewed terms of our contract. He couldn’t protect my uncle.”

“Please make sure my uncle is released by August. And could you also ensure his safety? At least until his original sentence ends.”

In exchange, she had agreed to live as Kwon Siheon’s woman until the following year. But her uncle had ended up dead regardless. She didn’t blame him, nor did she harbor resentment—it wasn’t his fault.

Technically, his obligation to protect Yoo Incheol began the moment he left prison grounds. But Yoo Incheol was shot within the prison premises, a scenario no one had foreseen. No one expected Kwak Bugyeong to target him on the day of his release.

“Let’s say I failed. So what?” Kwon Siheon’s indifferent reply cut through the air.

“What is it you want from me?”

Even if Yoo Incheol had died outside the prison, Yisoo wouldn’t have been able to resent him. Her gaze blurred as she recalled everything Kwon Siheon had done so far.

He had given her a safe place to stay and stationed guards at the villa where Yihyun was hiding. More significantly, he had unhesitatingly killed Yoo Hyeoksu, Yoo Minseop, and Yoo Hyunrak for her and her twin. If she hadn’t asked, those deaths would have been irrelevant to him—completely unnecessary.

No matter how commonplace murder and other crimes might have been for him, how they unfolded with just a word of command, the realization of the bloody weight of their contract left her breathless for the first time.

“Are you about to ask me to eliminate Kwak Bugyeong this time?” he asked.

Yisoo shook her head. It was impossible. No one was untouchable, but Kwak Bugyeong was too big a target to approach carelessly. Unless Kwon Siheon held a personal grudge, he wouldn’t go out of his way to target Kwak Bugyeong, someone he had no ties to.

“No. …I want to find his skeletons and expose them to the world,” she said, a fiery determination reigniting in her eyes.

If Kwak Bugyeong was so desperate to keep something hidden, then she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Even if she didn’t know what it was, she wanted to make him lose everything in a single moment because of the sins he had committed in the past.

The end of his political career—a downfall even more agonizing than death. Social ruin. That would be the best revenge for her biological father’s death.

“Help me make that happen,” Yisoo pleaded, her head drooping as a surge of hot emotion welled up inside her. If nothing else, this would be the final favor she’d ever ask of Kwon Siheon while she lived.

“Please, make sure Kwak Bugyeong’s secrets are revealed to the world. Make sure Yihyun and I can survive safely. If you do that, I’ll do anything you ask.”

She truly had no options left. Without striking back, survival was impossible.

“Kwon Siheon,” Yisoo called his name, lifting her gaze to look at him. His silent, unreadable face loomed over her. She was willing to beg. To kneel until her knees gave out, until he was satisfied.

“You’ll do anything. …You’ve said that before,” he remarked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. His eyes held neither pity nor sympathy.

“What if I ask you to stay here until I grow tired of you? Even if I get married, or whatever else I choose to do. Could you do that?”

“…”

“What? Is that too much to ask? You said you loved me,” he said, his tone indifferent.

Yisoo closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. His voice, calm and brutally sharp, continued.

“You know as well as I do, Yoo Yisoo, that there’s nothing else you can offer as payment.”

“If we uncover those secrets on our end, I’ll hand all the information over to you. Can’t that be the price?” Yisoo asked.

If anyone could use such information to their advantage, it was him. Whether it was to destroy Kwak Bugyeong or to elevate his future father-in-law, Park Shinhyeon, he would find a way. The thought of Park Seohye briefly flitted through her mind.

“If I find out first? Then it wouldn’t even count as payment, would it? Yoo Yisoo, Lee Yihyun, without lifting a finger, I’d be the one achieving all your goals for you,” Kwon Siheon said coldly.

“…”

“Until D-day, you’ll need to play your role. Just like the original contract,” he continued.

“Yes,” Yisoo replied softly.

“If I manage to put Kwak Bugyeong behind bars and expose all his dirty secrets around the presidential election, then we’ll renegotiate the payment,” he concluded.

After a long pause, Yisoo finally spoke.
“Yes.”

Her response seemed to mark the end of her ceaseless torment, as if she were sealing her fate.
“I’ll do that.”

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and her head spun faintly. Leaning back against the hospital bed’s headboard, she blinked, trying to clear the oppressive darkness that weighed on her chest.

“I heard you’ve been lying here, skipping meals. Isn’t it time to get yourself together?” Kwon Siheon asked.

“My head hurts,” Yisoo answered weakly.

“…”

“It feels like my head is going to split open. Like it’s going to explode or melt any second now.”

For a moment, a faint crack appeared in Kwon Siheon’s composed gaze. Dragging a chair over, he sat beside her bed, his face hardened like stone.

“It feels like an invisible hand is pulling my brain out, putting it on display and experimenting on it,” Yisoo murmured, her tone unnervingly calm.

Kwon Siheon’s brow furrowed deeper at her disturbing words.
“Get a CT scan. Immediately,” he ordered, his characteristic decisiveness evident.

Yisoo twisted her lips into a faint smile.
“Strangely enough…”

Her hand brushed against a larger, rougher palm. She lowered her gaze to see his scarred hand, its long, elegant fingers juxtaposed with a rugged backhand.

“When you’re nearby, my headache disappears,” she confessed.

His cold, icy eyes wavered for a fleeting moment, the hard edges softening imperceptibly. Yisoo didn’t miss the brief flicker of emotion.

“I’ll be discharged tomorrow,” she said.

“…”

“If I return to a space where your presence lingers… I feel like my headaches will stop altogether.”

“Do as you wish,” he replied. His voice, while not tender, lacked its usual harshness. Staring at her face intently, he stood when his phone alarm rang, his Adam’s apple moving faintly.

“I have to go. I’ll see you at home tomorrow.”

“…Yes,” Yisoo responded quietly.

Before the hospital room door closed, his broad, unyielding shoulders turned slightly toward her.
“Yoo Yisoo.”

He called her name but remained silent for a long time.

“Say what you need to,” she urged.

“It’s nothing,” he said abruptly, closing the door before she could process the anticlimactic response.

Only after he left did the unspoken words hit her.

If Yihyun disappears too…

If Yihyun were gone, she would truly be left alone in the world. The thought of enduring this harsh life without him made revenge against Kwak Bugyeong feel meaningless. She might just want it all to end.

If that time comes, take care of me too.

She couldn’t bring herself to voice that final plea. Before the headache returned, Yisoo swallowed her medication and pulled the sheet over her head. It felt dark and quiet, like lying inside a coffin.

At just twenty-five, she felt as though she had aged to eighty-five, crushed under the weight of extreme fatigue.

＊＊＊

“Dad, can’t we have the wedding by early next year at the latest?” Seohye asked suddenly.

Park Shinhyeon looked up from the living room floor, where his golf clubs and caddy bags were scattered in preparation for tomorrow’s outing.

“Why rush? I told you we’d do it after next year’s election. Besides, your grandmother’s health isn’t good,” he said.

“You barely visit her anyway,” Seohye muttered.

“I just want to get it over with as soon as possible. So please push Kwon Siheon a little for me.”

“Goodness, why are you so impatient? Other girls would want to delay it, to enjoy life a bit longer. Kwon Siheon isn’t going anywhere. Take it easy. Play more recitals or something—you’re a pianist, after all. Let me support you.”

Seohye bit her lip before blurting out the words she’d been holding back.

“Kwon Siheon has a woman.”

She couldn’t bring herself to reveal the full truth—that this woman lived with him in his Hannam-dong home and even had a personal assistant. It would be too humiliating.

“I’ve even seen her at the VVIP luxury boutique.”

Park Shinhyeon frowned slightly before clearing his throat.

“That’s nothing unusual. He’ll sort it all out before the wedding. You don’t need to worry.”

“Dad!” Seohye exclaimed in frustration.

Rage boiled up inside her. If her late mother were still alive, she would have empathized with her as a fellow woman and shared her anger.

“Our engagement was just talk! There wasn’t even a ring exchanged,” Seohye snapped.

“What do you mean, just talk? We held a grand family banquet! Do you even know how much that cost?” her father, Park Shinhyeon, retorted.

“You mean the hotel banquet hall that Grandfather rented for us? And all the additional expenses were charged to the Assembly member’s card.”

“Seohye,” he sighed heavily, clicking his tongue in frustration.

“Do you not remember your sister? Even after your brother-in-law got his secretary pregnant and made her have an abortion before the wedding, they’re living happily now.”

“…”

“I’ve told you this countless times. A man who has had his fun and settled down before stepping into the wedding hall is better than a clueless, inexperienced fool. It’s far better than him straying after the fact and causing heartbreak!”

“Dad.”

“Do you even know who she is? That woman is Yoo Yisoo—the unlucky daughter of the bankrupt Hyoshin Construction! And Kwon Siheon’s brought her into his house—they’re practically living together!”

＊＊＊

Park Seohye took a deep breath and swallowed the words that had risen to her throat. Her father, thoroughly patriarchal to his core, might be a little surprised by the situation, but he ultimately wouldn’t take any action.

Her father was the type of man who claimed that men were like the sky, and even after marriage, indulging in occasional amusements was just male nature. He was the kind who insisted on hiring only men for executive positions, saying he couldn’t stand the scent of women. What more could she say to someone like that?

“Anyway, please talk to President Kwon and push to expedite the wedding as much as possible. An engagement has no legal binding, right? If President Kwon changes his mind in the meantime, will you take responsibility for it?”

Only then did Park Sinhyun seem to grasp the seriousness of the matter, turning to look at his daughter. He then nodded readily.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Make sure to convince him.”

Finally, Seohye rose from her seat and headed to her room. The impulse to barge into the house in Hannam-dong, grab Yoo Yisoo by her hair, and drag her out surged within her repeatedly. She couldn’t act on it, imagining how contemptuous Kwon Siheon’s gaze would be if he found out.

Instead of lashing out at the mistress, Seohye took out her phone and brought up her fiancé’s number on the screen. Her hands trembled with rage bubbling over.

Siheon, you haven’t forgotten about next weekend’s dinner at the B Courtyard Club, have you?

Even after an hour, two hours, and then three hours, no reply came. She wanted to call immediately to ask why he wasn’t responding, but she held back. The more she clung or nagged, the colder Kwon Siheon became.

Ever since that incident at the hotel, they hadn’t gone beyond a kiss. They ate, had a few drinks, shared playful kisses, and then he would get up, saying he had to leave early the next morning. It was beyond frustrating—it was absurd.

“Siheon, are you not feeling well these days? Or did I do something wrong?”

Only once, unable to suppress the urge, had she asked.

“No. I just think it’s better to stay out of the gossip columns for now. It’s not like our marriage has been publicly announced yet, so there’s no point in causing unnecessary rumors.”

His response was a painfully obvious excuse.

“Then what about meeting at your place? That way, we wouldn’t have to worry about prying eyes.”

She quietly watched his expression, wondering what excuse he’d come up with this time. When Kwon Siheon spoke again, she nearly bit her tongue in disbelief.

“Sure, why not?”

Unable to believe it, she stared at her fiancé’s face. While she fumbled for words, Kwon Siheon casually sipped his wine and continued.

“Let’s meet at the Hannam-dong house starting next weekend.”

What about her? Was he suggesting a threesome?

The words lingered on her tongue, but she couldn’t say them. Did he really not know that she was aware of Yoo Yisoo’s existence? Testing the waters, she cautiously responded.

“No, I think meeting at home before marriage might not be a good idea.”

Not when he wasn’t even living alone. Her pride barely managed to stop her from adding that last thought.

“I don’t mind. Let me know if you change your mind.”

He casually refilled her glass, his composed demeanor making her feel even more wretched. In the end, she was the one who retreated.

“No, I think you’re right. It’s better to be cautious.”

With that, their conversation ended, and after a goodnight kiss, she went home. Only then did the belated wave of shame and anger keep her up all night.

Finally, Kwon Siheon’s reply came past midnight.

I remember. See you then.

She felt a surge of anger wondering whether this reply came before or after a romp with Yoo Yisoo. Though she knew he was a notorious workaholic likely busy with work, the shadow of Yoo Yisoo clouded her reason.

She lay on her bed for a while, lost in thought, before suddenly sitting up. Before she knew it, her fingers had instinctively pressed the call button.

“Seohye noona?”

“Where are you right now? Can you come to my place?”

“What’s this? Weren’t you saying we should start wrapping things up? Haha…”

“Be here in 30 minutes. I’ll wait.”

Seohye let her pajamas fall to the floor like shedding a skin and headed to the bathroom. The resolve to abandon her reckless lifestyle born out of resentment toward her father was short-lived. Her rebelliousness against her fiancé rekindled the impulses she had barely managed to suppress.

She felt lonely. So lonely that she couldn’t bear it. That’s why she wanted to fall back into meaningless and fleeting pleasure, even if it couldn’t fill her heart—at least her body might find some relief.

＊＊＊

“Help me! Please, help!”

“Yisoo!”

The flames spread terrifyingly fast, and in no time, the surroundings became an inferno. A woman threw herself over the young Yisoo, holding her tightly as the ceiling light engulfed in flames began to collapse.

The next moment, a powerful tremor shook the floor, and Yisoo’s small body was thrown to the edge of the staircase. Yihyun, screaming her name at the top of his lungs, caught her from below but tumbled down the stairs in the process.

Yihyun lost consciousness instantly. He lay there, his leg grotesquely twisted, still clutching Yisoo protectively to his back.

A fragment of the past, long dormant, replayed itself in her subconscious. Every time she woke from that dream, she could only remember the part where they fell down the stairs together. In reality, her memory began at that exact moment, too.

Only Yihyun knew exactly what had happened before that. Yisoo’s memories from before the fall were completely wiped out, never to return.

＊＊＊

“A woman had come to the house that day, and then burglars broke in. The fire started from a candle the burglars knocked over… Both the burglars and that woman died. That beautiful woman… She was the one who gave birth to us.”

Yisoo lifted her head from her damp pillow, scanning the dark room before dawn. The bed was empty. As always, Kwon Siheon had left for work early in the morning.

Over three months had passed. The bloody year had ended, and a few days into the new year, she was now twenty-six, the same age as Yihyun. It didn’t feel real.

Since becoming an adult, her life felt stagnant—neither progressing nor regressing. It was as if she lived like a mayfly, unsure of when she would die, renewing her existence daily.

Before the sun rose, Yisoo went to the room she used alone. Opening the desk drawer to grab a hair tie, she spotted the box containing Yoo Incheol’s wristwatch, his keepsake.

Next to it was a velvet case holding an expensive wristwatch. The watch was a gift from Kwon Siheon, adorned with rows of sparkling jewels.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

The memory of her surprise at the unexpected gift was still vivid, even after a week. He had handed over the box without any emotion, like picking up something dropped at his feet.

“Secretary Kim picked something suitable while preparing the year-end bonus gifts for the staff.”

Of course, the other staff wouldn’t have received the same thing. As she stood there blankly, his phone rang, cutting their conversation short.

She hadn’t worn the watch even once. Being virtually confined at home, there was no reason to wear it. Still, every morning, when she opened the desk drawer, her eyes would linger briefly on the velvet case.

Today, too, she stared at the case for a while before opening the box next to it to check Yoo Incheol’s watch. Then, before tears could well up in her eyes, she quickly closed the drawer.

Afterward, she opened her laptop, activated the security program, and began organizing the conversation she’d had yesterday at Sera’s villa with Attorney Kang Manseop and Yihyun.

Once again, there were no substantial results. Attorney Kang had been secretly contacting those close to Yoo Namcheol during his lifetime to find clues, but nothing had come of it.

Where could the evidence be, and in what form had it been hidden?

Yihyun had, for a time, doubted whether the evidence even existed. Like the slush fund supposedly lying dormant in some overseas bank, he was skeptical about whether it was real at all.

‘Could it be that we’re all just wasting our time?’

‘No. It’s definitely out there. Otherwise, Kwak Bugyeong wouldn’t be so desperate. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to ally with Yoo Hyeonrak and kill Incheol. He wouldn’t have gone to such insane lengths.’

Kang Manseop’s argument made sense. Kwak Bugyeong and Yoo Namcheol had been inseparable before their fallout. Not only had they traveled together under the pretense of overseas corporate inspections and tours, but they had also shared all kinds of unofficial information related to government policies and investments, helping each other profit without hesitation.

It meant they were close enough to easily expose each other’s weaknesses and flaws, like how families unintentionally reveal secrets to one another.

The presidential election was now fast approaching. In a month and a half, they had to uncover Yoo Namcheol’s “legacy.”

Initially, Yihyun had thought that if Kwak Bugyeong became president, he might hold back from acting recklessly due to the risks involved in his position. But Kwon Siheon had quickly shattered that naive thought.

‘Times may have changed, and acts of personal profiteering will undoubtedly be exposed, just like with past presidents. But do you think a perfect crime involving the disappearance of two insignificant individuals will be treated the same way? Not when he’s the leader of this country.’

He had spoken those words to her, the potential target of such a perfect crime, without so much as blinking.

‘If he feared that, he wouldn’t have bribed Yoo Hyeonrak in the first place. Even if we have a video of Hyeonrak confessing that Kwak Bugyeong is behind it all, ordering the twins’ deaths, he’ll just claim it’s fabricated. And when it comes to taking care of you two, he’ll make absolutely sure that your bodies are never found.’

There was no way to refute Kwon Siheon’s words. They seemed to be proven true: the shooting of Yoo Incheol had been officially wrapped up as an accidental discharge by a nearby U.S. military base. No matter how hard they tried to uncover the truth, it was like throwing eggs at a rock.

In the end, they were back at square one. Their only option was to first secure evidence of Kwak Bugyeong’s weaknesses and expose it to the world. There was no other way.

― Wow! Kwak Bugyeong! Kwak Bugyeong!

Startled, she looked up. Somehow, she had clicked on a news video, and the screen was filled with the fervent cheers of a crowd.

Yisoo pressed the pause button and reflected on everything that had happened over the past four months: the issuance of Yoo Hyeonrak’s death certificate, the front-page coverage of the ruling party’s 23rd presidential candidate primary results, and…

The date for Kwon Siheon and Park Seohye’s wedding had also been set. The two were scheduled to tie the knot this May.

＊＊＊

Yisoo took a deep breath. It seemed the matter was being handled in utmost secrecy, with no one informed yet. Even the household staff appeared unaware. Perhaps only Housekeeper Lee had been unofficially notified.

She learned about it a month ago, barely a day after the date was set. It was during one of Kwon Siheon’s usual moments of repose after their second round of sex, as he smoked a cigarette.

“The date’s set. It’s scheduled for the first Saturday in May, so you’ll need to coordinate your schedule around that.”

He had been on speakerphone with Secretary Kim at the time. At first, Yisoo thought it was just work-related talk. As she tried to rise from her aching body while steadying her breaths, she realized it was about his wedding.

“Have the planner handle all the wedding preparations from start to finish. I have no intention of getting involved, nor do I have the time.”

He had tossed his cigarette into his whiskey glass with little care, then pulled Yisoo back onto his lap, pinning her down. She nearly screamed but held it in, though Kwon Siheon didn’t seem to care. He pressed her into a prone position and casually continued his conversation.

“Have you decided on the honeymoon destination and schedule? If you let me know, I’ll ensure it doesn’t interfere with your other commitments.”

“Not sure about that yet.”

His hands gripped her hips firmly, radiating a heat that sent chills down her spine. She squirmed instinctively at the sensation of both warmth and coolness, but he didn’t release her. The blunt, damp tip of his arousal teased between her buttocks.

“There’s still five months left, so they’ll figure it out.”

The hot, throbbing flesh rubbed against her sensitive areas, pressing and grinding against her still-swollen nub until, without warning, it slid deep into her parted folds.

“Relay it through the secretary’s office.”

A muffled gasp escaped Yisoo as she buried her face into the pillow, gripping the sheets tightly, hoping her sounds wouldn’t carry through the phone.

“Understood. Congratulations again on the finalized date.”

Whether or not Secretary Kim noticed his boss’s shifted breathing, he ended the call without further questions. In the next moment, Yisoo’s arms were pulled back, lifting her upper body.

“Aah… ngh…”

The movement caused him to thrust deeper, his length filling her entirely, pressing tightly against her inner walls as though it would pierce through her abdomen.

What happened after that became a blur. She could vaguely recall Kwon Siheon holding her from behind, rocking her for a long time, her body trembling up and down until she was on the verge of losing consciousness. It was an unrelenting wave of heat and pleasure, like being consumed by a fire from within. Her body felt like it would melt, overwhelmed by the sensations. The bruises on her hips, from their intense friction and impact, didn’t fade for days.

After that night, the topic of marriage never came up again. Yisoo didn’t ask either. It wasn’t as if he had mentioned it to provoke or elicit a reaction from her; it was Secretary Kim who had initiated the call to provide a report.

“Kwon Siheon… I don’t want him to get married. Not to another woman.”

“What, so you want to marry me instead, is that it?”

A conversation they had once shared felt like it had happened ages ago, or perhaps it never occurred at all.

“I don’t know. It’s just… the thought of Kwon Siheon being with someone else… it makes me feel strange.”

“Don’t spout nonsense, Yoo Yisoo. Say something ridiculous like that again, and I won’t let it slide.”

“It’s not nonsense.”

Suddenly, she wondered. Did Kwon Siheon still remember that conversation?

His marriage to Park Seohye was just another task for him, nothing more. She could tell from the way he talked to his secretary, giving instructions.

But spending occasional nights with her in a hotel didn’t seem like part of his work. Each time he returned home, carrying the familiar citrus scent on his body and crawling into bed, she knew he had just been with Park Seohye before coming to her.

Kwon Siheon was shameless. Without a hint of hesitation, he brazenly claimed what he considered his right and relentlessly pursued his desires. As if sex with Park Seohye wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

It seemed natural to him to go from one woman to another, as if it were some kind of ritual. His habit of returning home before midnight, without even spending a full night at the hotel, likely stemmed from a need to fulfill that degrading ritual.

As their bodies tangled and fluids mixed, the perfume’s scent gradually faded. When there was no longer any trace of Park Seohye on him, a strange emotion would surface even amid the overwhelming ecstasy.

Perhaps it could be called a wretched sense of relief. A bizarre mix of misery and perverse joy washed over her—a twisted satisfaction derived from knowing that Kwon Siheon couldn’t be content with just his fiancée.

But it was nothing more than fleeting exhilaration, as fragile as sand slipping through her fingers. In the end, Yoo Yisoo was nothing more than the other woman.

“If it’s not resolved before the election, there’s only one way. No matter the outcome… you just need to say one word.”

His whispered words from a few days ago sent chills down her spine. He had suggested a way for her to personally deal with Kwak Bugyeong, offering minimal support to facilitate it.

“As you know, Kwak Bugyeong is too prominent a figure under scrutiny right now, so no one else can step in. And Kwak Bugyeong isn’t just anyone—he’ll figure out who’s behind it no matter which route is taken.”

In other words, he was telling her to do it herself. Whether with a gun, a knife, or by pretending to be an ardent supporter in her twenties to build rapport and lure him to a hotel.

“You’ll have to risk your life and carry it out yourself.”

When Kwon Siheon said those words, he was purely the representative of Shinuehoe—nothing more, nothing less. The man who had once laid bare every part of Yisoo, both physically and emotionally, tormenting and indulging in her on the bed, was nowhere to be found.

“Success or failure—it’s all on you.”

If she failed, he would completely wash his hands of it. She could clearly envision that future in his cold gaze.

His eyes, when he looked at her, always held a frigid flame or the searing chill of hot ice. But the calm, wintry stillness in his gaze as he said those words was rare.

Yisoo snapped back to reality and stared intently at the video on the screen. She must have pressed the wrong key because the screen now displayed a scene from an upcoming movie or drama.

“If I die, all my inheritance goes to my beloved cat, Timmy. And my diary will be handed over to my greatest enemy, Richard, George’s nemesis. That diary is full of George’s dirty secrets.”

Giving the diary to the enemy of the relative who had looked down on and despised him the most. It made sense. My enemy’s enemy is my friend, as the saying goes.

Suddenly, a flash of insight struck her. Yisoo’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen.

“You know, my diary, it’s got hell lot of damn George’s dirty linens.”

The line repeated as she pressed the replay button. The elderly man spat out the words again. Yisoo fell deep into thought.

Had they been looking at it all wrong this entire time?

A shiver ran down her spine. Up until now, Yihyun, Attorney Kang, and Yisoo had only investigated and questioned those who were close to Yoo Namcheol in life. Fortunately or unfortunately, Kwak Bugyeong was the only person who had seriously fallen out along the way.

They had never considered those on the opposite side of Kwak Bugyeong—his enemies. Despite being a highly respected and popular figure among members of the National Assembly, he undoubtedly had rivals who sought to check his influence. While his supporters stood out more prominently, his adversaries were just as real.