TIOAWN Chapter 25

“Speak.”

 

Without separating his lips, Moo-geon muttered, his tongue grazing hers.

 

“Cha Moo-geon.”

 

The moment his name was properly completed, his tongue delved fiercely, as if to tear her lips apart.

 

His hands, gripping her shoulders, moved swiftly along her neck and waist, stimulating her sides as though awakening sensation in her frozen body.

 

As his hand, which had covered her lower abdomen, slithered up to her chest, Moo-geon bit down on the nape of her neck.

 

“Ah.”

 

A faint sob escaped her lips but didn’t fully emerge. It wasn’t because of the ocean that refused to let her go but the sudden heat that left her legs trembling.

 

After roughly biting her neck, he licked her jawline and sucked her lips several more times before finally letting her go.

 

Her parched lips seemed lifeless, yet they were still preferable to the swollen lips bruised by his suction. Moo-geon’s gaze lingered on Ha-yoon’s lips with a strange intensity, and she opened her mouth to speak.

 

“I was scared.”

 

Though there was no one watching her, she hadn’t dared to run away from the beach.

 

The overwhelming situation, the pain-ridden body—she had tried to endure it all, but being left alone in the world rendered her utterly powerless.

 

“Ha.”

 

Moo-geon let out a deep sigh, running his hand along his throat.

 

“Scared?”

 

Just scared? Fuck.

 

His curse was half-drowned by the sound of the waves.

 

His gaze veered away, and his thick fingers cracked audibly. Ha-yoon, not missing a single detail of the veins that bulged on his sharply defined Adam’s apple or his twitching eyebrows, nodded her head.

 

Even when she had been thrown out of her home, even when she had been dragged away by Cha Moo-geon, she had never been this terrified.

 

The desolation of being abandoned alone in the open sea shook her to her core.

 

Even in such a dire situation, all she could do was draw pictures.

 

Ha-yoon was at a loss for words in the face of her helplessness. She was too exhausted to make any judgments.

 

Even when she had been pushed into the ocean, she had merely let herself float.

 

But then Cha Moo-geon made her waver.

 

His always-expressionless face had transformed rapidly, as though emotions had met seawater and surged forth.

 

“So all of this was your decision.”

 

Despite the surge of emotions, Moo-geon’s voice remained calm. His heavy words held their ground, refusing to be swept away by the waves.

 

When he had grabbed her shoulders and shaken her like a madman in the bathtub, demanding to know if she had died, her clear eyes had innocently reflected that she had no idea what he was talking about.

 

And now, not even a day later, she had boldly waded into the ocean?

 

Had she truly intended to die?

 

Ha.

 

“Who gave you permission to die, Seo Ha-yoon?”

 

Whose life do you think you owe? If you know that, then such behavior is unacceptable in front of me. Absolutely unforgivable.

 

Countless resentments swirled within him like maggots. Even with his body half-soaked in seawater, heat continued to surge uncontrollably.

 

“I just… wanted to escape.”

 

Ha-yoon murmured softly.

 

Her gentle eyes wavered, her eyelids drooping.

 

It was too desolate to quietly curl up and wait as if trapped in a room, and the reality she faced was too overwhelming.

 

Lost in her emotions, she had already found herself in the ocean before realizing it.

 

Her lips trembled as though she was about to pour everything out, but in the end, she simply shook her head.

 

She hoped desperately that Cha Moo-geon would understand that she had no intention of dying.

 

“How dare you.”

 

He had only uttered that single phrase. He had merely released one of the many words he had kept suppressed within himself.

 

Moo-geon’s chest expanded as he let out a long breath. His jaw tightened as he spoke.

 

“You tried to escape?”

 

On your own whim.

 

For something so trivial.

 

Moo-geon spoke in a scornful tone, as though stabbing her with his words.

 

Feeling as if he had been deceived, Moo-geon twisted his lips into a grimace.

 

“… Even that is not allowed?”

 

Ha-yoon asked back, as though she couldn’t comprehend why even such an action wasn’t permitted.

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

Moo-geon grabbed her chin firmly and lifted her face.  

 

When he stared into her trembling, transparent pupils as if to devour or crush them, Ha-yoon’s breathing came to a halt.  

 

The man who took control of her nerves with just a gaze arrogantly tilted his head downward.  

 

Their lips drew close, almost touching. As Ha-yoon unconsciously followed Moo-geon’s breathing, he smirked, twisting his lips, and said,  

 

“Even for something as simple as breathing.”  

 

From her lips to the corners of her mouth, to her cheeks, and then to her earlobe, Moo-geon moved deliberately, almost gnawing as if marking every spot. Finally, as though wanting to make her hear him clearly, he pressed his lips deep against the curve of her ear.  

 

“You have no freedom, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

His low voice wrapped around her like sticky silk.  

 

Ha-yoon trembled, her eyelids quivering as she let out a ragged breath.  

 

“…Why?”  

 

Why are you going that far…?  

 

Was there really any need for this?  

 

Ha-yoon resisted, pushing him away with her arms.  

 

Looking down at her futile attempts, Moo-geon smirked crookedly.  

 

“You said you’d prove it, your worth.”  

 

His sinister voice coiled around her neck like a noose. Ha-yoon gasped, sucking in a sharp breath.  

 

“Wasn’t it unnecessary? Isn’t that why you left me?”  

 

Wasn’t it because he no longer even wanted her to prove that worthless worth of hers?  

 

Ha-yoon asked, unable to erase the sadness completely from her voice.  

 

“Who said that?”  

 

“…”  

 

“Thirteen billion four hundred thirty million won.”  

 

Neither more nor less than the exact amount.  

 

The moment she became aware of reality, the seawater felt unbearably cold. Her lips trembled uncontrollably, and her fingertips wouldn’t move properly.  

 

“Remember it clearly, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

Moo-geon held the back of Ha-yoon’s head, drenched from the seawater, with his large palm as he spoke.  

 

Although Ha-yoon, her face pale as a sheet, stumbled backward, she was still in Cha Moo-geon’s grasp.  

 

“Even dying, even living. It all goes the way I decide.”  

 

Pulling her closer by the waist, Moo-geon issued his warning.  

 

For a moment, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.  

 

Damn it.  

 

Ha-yoon’s body was so cold it felt like she might not even have any sensation left.  

 

There was no warmth to be felt at all. His chest felt heavy, and a wave of discomfort surged.  

 

“Get a grip and move.”  

 

Growing impatient, Moo-geon pulled her wrist without hesitation.  

 

“Ah!”  

 

Ha-yoon let out a groan. Her vision blurred, and her heart pounded with a loud thump. For a very brief moment, her breathing stopped.  

 

“Don’t make such a fuss.”  

 

Without even glancing back, Moo-geon dragged Ha-yoon along. Gripping her wrist tightly, he seemed to focus on nothing but getting them out of the water.  

 

“W-wait, slow down a little, please.”  

 

Although her thin voice stuttered awkwardly, he paid it no mind.  

 

“I told you, no whining, Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

Dragging her along to the point where lines were drawn in the sand instead of footprints, Moo-geon handled Ha-yoon roughly.  

 

“Get in.”  

 

Kang-heon, who had been standing by the car with a startled expression, quickly opened the door. As Moo-geon went to push Ha-yoon in like throwing an object, her weight suddenly pulled heavily against his arm.  

 

“Seo Ha-yoon.”  

 

Finally turning to look back, he saw the light fade from Ha-yoon’s once-clear pupils.  

 

As Ha-yoon finally lost consciousness, Moo-geon pulled her into his arms swiftly, as if he hadn’t just been dragging her.  

 

“Head to the nearest hospital.”  

 

“B-but, sir—”  

 

Kang-heon hesitated briefly.  

 

“Should I just let her die here on the street?”  

 

Moo-geon’s dark eyes pierced Kang-heon sharply. The air inside the car froze in an instant.  

 

“I’ll locate the closest hospital immediately.”  

 

Once the car began moving, Moo-geon unconsciously pulled Ha-yoon closer.  

 

Tap, tap.  

 

His index finger traced a steady rhythm against her forearm.  

 

***  

 

Her disheveled hair. Bloodshot eyes. The vivid red marks on her neck.  

 

Half-dazed, Jin Bo-young, who had been sitting idly in a half-deranged state, suddenly jumped up as she noticed the breaking dawn outside the window.  

 

“Oh no.”  

 

What day was it today?  

 

Wasn’t this the day that person was supposed to return from their business trip? What a mess.  

 

Panicking, Bo-young stumbled as she grabbed her phone and left the studio.  

 

“Oh, car keys.”  

 

Whenever Bo-young stayed at the gallery late, she often didn’t bring a driver with her. Normally, Lee Sung-sik would always stay by her side on such occasions, but today was an exception.  

 

As Bo-young roughly ran her hands through her messy hair, she grabbed her handbag from the office. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed, and a familiar man appeared.  

 

“C-chairman.”  

 

Instinctively, Bo-young addressed him by his title. It was Song Ho-yeol.  

 

Pressing his palm against his somewhat tired-looking cheekbone, Song Ho-yeol cast a displeased glance toward the CEO’s office before shifting his gaze to Jin Bo-young.  

 

“I believe I told you to do your part properly before going off to handle external matters.”  

 

Staying out all night? Unacceptable.  

 

At the sound of his voice laced with irritation, Bo-young clasped her hands around her handbag and carefully began to explain.  

 

“It’s not what you think, dear. I wasn’t staying out all night—”  

 

“Did I not tell you to conduct yourself without causing any noise?”  

 

“That, Chairman, it’s just that…”  

 

Bo-young tightly closed her eyes and swallowed a sigh.  

 

He must have already been briefed on everything. That’s why he came straight to the gallery after returning from his trip.  

 

Knowing that making excuses would only breed further distrust, Bo-young straightened her posture, placing a hand on the desk for support.  

 

“The exhibition is approaching, and things got delayed more than expected. I was in a hurry, and I made a mistake. This won’t happen again—”  

 

“Shall I remind you again why I allowed you to manage the gallery?”  

 

To contribute to corporate social value. To enhance the company’s image.  

 

It sounded legitimate on the surface, but in truth, it was just a front to create slush funds.  

 

Bo-young bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.