TIOAWN Chapter 20

Click. Click.  

 

Click. Click.  

 

The sound of her footsteps on the marble floor was monotonous yet precarious. Even a slight misstep while breathing could cause her to stumble, so Jin Bo-young bit her nails nervously.  

 

What should I do?  

 

Just looking at a calendar now made her feel nauseated.  

 

“Pull yourself together, Jin Bo-young.”  

 

This wasn’t the time to be dawdling.  

 

What should I start with? What haven’t I done?  

 

As she mulled it over, Bo-young let out a sigh and hurried to her private workspace. Standing before three neatly arranged paintings, she smiled in satisfaction.  

 

“I need to make these paintings entirely mine first.”  

 

Could a girl who’s been cooped up at home her entire life even know how to properly sign her own name?  

 

“Stupid girl,” Bo-young sneered lightly.  

 

In the past, now, and in the future—never. Not in this lifetime would the name Seo Ha-yoon ever be engraved at the bottom of these paintings.  

 

Taking a deep breath, she picked up a brush.  

 

For someone like Lee Sung-sik, bringing Seo Ha-yoon, who was quietly holed up at home, would be no trouble at all.  

 

“If she’s neither fed nor allowed to sleep, what choice will she have?”  

 

She wouldn’t be able to endure without painting. That way, the exhibition could proceed without any issues.  

 

Although Bo-young had used exhibitions to accumulate slush funds numerous times before, this time it was more urgent.  

 

The game company Song Woo-jin had invested in just before his promotion to vice president had become a major problem.  

 

It wasn’t just facing delisting due to capital erosion; there were also allegations of embezzlement and breach of trust.  

 

At this point, retrieving the investment wasn’t the issue—it was the potential legal risks that were more concerning.  

 

If Song Ho-yeol finds out about all of this…

 

Ever since Woo-jin’s promotion, Songhwa Trading had been in continuous decline. While he might be his son, to someone like Song Ho-yeol, who only cared about money, Woo-jin’s performance must have been disappointing.  

 

“This time, the scale of the slush fund is more than double the previous amounts.”  

 

With that much money in hand, even if Woo-jin’s investment mishap were exposed, it could be resolved.  

 

That way, the plummeting stock price caused by Woo-jin could also be recovered. Then, Song Ho-yeol wouldn’t dare to disregard her.  

 

“On the contrary, he’ll need me more than anyone else.”  

 

Even as she thought this, Bo-young repeatedly bit her lips. Anxiety welled up from the depths of her throat, spreading messily.  

 

No matter how much she tried to steady her mind, her heart kept pounding loudly. Her hands, clutching the brush, trembled uncontrollably.  

 

After all these years of bearing a child, her husband, Song Ho-yeol, still didn’t trust her. Neither did her father, who had been unrelenting his entire life.  

 

It made her sick to her stomach.  

 

Bo-young tightened her grip on the brush, readjusting her hold.  

 

“This exhibition must succeed.”  

 

By any means necessary, it had to be brought to a successful conclusion.  

 

Her dark pupils dilated and contracted repeatedly.  

 

—Didn’t I tell you not to disgrace this family?  

 

She could no longer distinguish whether the voice belonged to her father or her husband.  

 

“Ah.”  

 

At last, her hand slipped, and the brush faltered. The final character of her signature went completely astray. Bo-young’s expression crumbled like dry leaves.  

 

As if the shortage of paintings wasn’t troubling enough, she had now ruined the signature as well.  

 

This small mistake felt like a foreshadowing of the exhibition’s fate. Her entire body trembled, and the anxiety she had tried so hard to suppress grew bigger and bigger.  

 

In disbelief, Bo-young picked up the brush again and tried to rewrite the letters. But the more the brush touched the canvas, the more distorted the signature became before her eyes.  

 

Damn it.  

 

Letting out a long exhale in an attempt to regain composure, Bo-young moved to the painting beside her.  

 

At first glance, it looked similar to Seo Ha-yoon’s work, but the painting lacked any sense of vitality. Facing the canvas, Bo-young impatiently squeezed out paint.  

 

Once, twice, three times. Would it improve if she painted over it? The more she added layers of the same color, the messier the painting became.  

 

In frustration, she dragged the brush in a long, sweeping motion, then threw it aside. Raking her nails through her hair, she gritted her lips and her pupils wavered with unease.  

 

Even as she buried her face in her hands and closed her eyes, the anxiety didn’t dissipate easily.  

 

“It itches.”  

 

Bo-young scratched her arm with her fingernails. The red marks seemed painful, but her hand kept pressing harder as it moved.

 

Her hand, brushing past her neck, finally reached her head. Bo-young didn’t stop, even as her meticulously styled hair turned into a mess.

 

This can’t go on.

 

“Seo Ha-yoon.”

 

I must have her.

 

Jin Bo-young, springing up from her seat, hurriedly searched for Lee Sung-sik’s number and pressed the call button.

 

Seo Myung-sik’s household isn’t even in some remote province. Why haven’t they contacted me yet?

 

“Pick up. Answer the phone.”

 

As the dial tone continued to ring, her hair became more and more disheveled.  

 

***

 

“We’ve arrived.”

 

At Kiseok’s words, Ha-yoon stirred. When had she fallen asleep? Realizing that she had been resting her head on Cha Moo-geon’s thigh, she sat up.

 

“Oh.”

 

As she sprang up in shock, a cherry fell to the floor. Moo-geon leaned forward, his gaze meeting hers, and Ha-yoon almost staggered backward.

 

He pulled her nape forward with a quick motion. Their faces were so close now that their noses could almost touch, and Ha-yoon held her breath.

 

“You’ve prepared yourself, haven’t you?”

 

With just those words, the air inside the car seemed to vanish. Her ears rang, and her throat felt parched.

 

Prepared?

 

Was he acting like this because he knew her father would be furious if he found out she hadn’t drawn the picture?

 

“Whatever I ask you to do, you’ll do it, won’t you, Seo Ha-yoon?”

 

Ha-yoon inhaled sharply. The things she had done with him so far flashed rapidly through her mind.

 

What does he want this time?

 

While she was lost in confusion, Moo-geon gestured toward the door.

 

“Get out.”

 

Under his commanding tone, Ha-yoon, as if entranced, got out of the car. Kang-heon glanced back at the woman wrapped tightly in Moo-geon’s coat.

 

Contrary to Moo-geon’s expectation that she would be terrified, Ha-yoon seemed distracted by something.

 

His gaze, following her movements, stopped at one point.

 

The sea?

 

Her fluttering eyelashes and entranced eyes were fixed on the ocean. Her fingers, peeking out from the long sleeves of the coat, twitched as if tickled.

 

Had she really been cooped up at home so long that she’d never seen the sea before?

 

Clicking his tongue in disbelief, Moo-geon’s thoughts were interrupted when Kang-heon pointed out a direction.

 

“This way.”

 

Ha-yoon’s fascination with the ocean was short-lived. As they left the paved asphalt for the soft sand of the beach, her steps in slippers visibly slowed.

 

What if I really find my father?

 

It felt as if her shoulders would be seized at any moment. The thought of her father scolding her to bring the painting made her feel suffocated.

 

Her gaze landed on Moo-geon’s back, which was now a step ahead.

 

Still…

 

I should find my father.

 

Then he won’t get angry at me anymore, and I’ll be able to return home with my father.

 

That’s the right thing to do. I’ve always lived with my father, so going with him is only natural…

 

Her feet dragged, and she kept stepping backward. Standing on the open sandy beach, she didn’t want to return to the place she had lived her whole life.

 

Ha-yoon let out a shallow sigh.

 

All I remember from that place is drawing all day long.

 

Something like this ocean, I’d probably only ever see in pictures my entire life.

 

I want to run away.

 

But where? And with whom?

 

She couldn’t even imagine living a life without a guardian. No one had ever taught her how to survive in the world on her own.

 

Being left alone…

 

Just the thought made her heart tremble with fear.

 

So it’s right to go back with my father, my only guardian.

 

Ha-yoon shook her head as if to dispel her thoughts.

 

Do you really want to?

 

A biting winter wind whispered closely in her ears.

 

The question pierced her heart sharply.

 

Cha Moo-geon.

 

His broad back, solid physique, and unwavering demeanor.

 

What would happen if I stayed by his side? If he became my guardian…

 

Such an absurd thought surged over her like a wave.

 

Lost in sudden confusion and hesitation, Ha-yoon fell two steps behind him.

 

Ah, what do I do? Even though she quickened her steps to the point of panting, it wasn’t easy to catch up with Moo-geon. By the time she nearly broke into a run, she heard a voice.

 

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

 

A large man who had approached while panting bowed deeply to Moo-geon in greeting.

 

“Where’s Seo Myung-sik?”

 

“Well, the thing is…”

 

At Moo-geon’s monotonous tone, the man tensed up and trembled without lifting his head.

 

Ha-yoon glanced at the man but soon lowered her gaze to the soft, sinking sand.

 

“Chief Ji.”

 

Moo-geon’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. At his command, Kang-heon quickly stepped forward and kicked the man in the shin.

 

“I apologize. There are definite traces of him staying, but it seems he has already fled.”

 

Ha-yoon abruptly raised her head to look at the man.

 

Fled?

 

Her previously slumped shoulders straightened naturally. Her rapidly beating heart began to calm.

 

This isn’t right. Ha-yoon instinctively glanced at Moo-geon for his reaction.

 

He must be angry because we couldn’t find my father again, right?

 

Of course, he’s angry.

 

He might order me to prove my worth by doing something strange again…

 

Even though she reached that thought, her heart wasn’t as uneasy as it had been when she had stepped onto the sandy beach.

 

Her heart used to twist painfully whenever her father scolded her to bring the painting, but for some reason, Cha Moo-geon’s angry voice…

 

It didn’t feel unpleasant.

 

Strange. Ha-yoon pressed her palm against her chest.