Esquisse Chapter 2

Unlike the frost-bitten city, the luxurious hotel glowed warmly with yellow light. Surrounded by men in suits, Seorin stepped into the suite room, her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time.

 

Her sneakers, soaked with melted snow mixed with dirt, did not belong in a five-star hotel lined with fine fabric. If the Strategic Planning Director of Changgon Construction saw her in this pathetic state, he would surely want to clear her debt out of pity.

 

From the bright end of the hallway came various sounds. Among them was the faint sound of running water. The men stationed at all four corners of the room bowed simultaneously toward Secretary Kang.

 

“Welcome.”

 

A deep, booming greeting rang out. Secretary Kang nodded toward the men in black suits and came to a stop. And so Seorin, her shoulders hunched like a criminal, had no choice but to stop too.

 

“Director, Ms. Song Seorin has arrived.”

 

As Kang announced her arrival, the sound of water that had been heard from afar suddenly ceased. Soon after, the door the guards had been stationed at slid open.

 

“You’re late.”

 

A low, husky voice licked across her frozen cheek. Hesitating, Seorin gradually lifted her head. Water droplets running down her calves caused a ripple in her gaze.

 

“I’ve never had to wait for anyone in my life.”

 

As the sinewy hand swept back his wet hair, a dark tattoo etched from his chest to his forearm stood out. Scars—torn and healed—marked his firm skin no differently.

 

Sa Taejeong had the chiseled good looks of a classic movie star. Thick eyebrows, sharply slanted eyes beneath them, and a straight nose gave him a polished, urban appearance. The lack of fat on his cheeks accentuated his angular jawline.

 

Startled by the unexpectedly handsome face, Seorin shivered slightly. It wasn’t just because the Strategic Planning Director of Changgon Construction was a young man.

 

Droplets running down his thick neck slid along the carved lines of his muscles. Beneath his lean upper body, surrounded by dense pubic hair, something ominous twitched.

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

Embarrassed by the indecent sight, Seorin quickly lowered her head. As her round ears under her hair flushed red, one of Taejeong’s eyebrows lifted slightly. A wine-colored bathrobe then fell over his shoulders.

 

“Sit. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

 

Tying the robe’s belt, Taejeong walked over to the sofa. Though the young director of Changgon Group exuded an air of ease, the atmosphere in the room began to suffocate Seorin.

 

After hesitating, Seorin stepped toward the seat across from him.

 

“No.”

 

A heavy voice stopped her. Unlike his neutral expression, Taejeong’s gaze was impossibly deep as he scrutinized her.

 

Then his large hand patted the thigh hidden beneath the robe.

 

“Not there. Here.”

 

The unmistakable sexual nuance made Seorin flinch. While she stiffened like rawhide that hadn’t been properly tanned, Taejeong’s lips curled in amusement.

 

“If you came to please me, you should at least pretend to take your clothes off.”

 

He leaned back, showing off his intimidating body. The loosely tied belt caused the front of the robe to fall open, revealing his firm chest.

 

“It’s not like your father borrowed just a few bucks.”

 

His voice, low and wine-rich, was brutally explicit. Taejeong picked up a liquor bottle from the table. As the crystal glass filled with golden whiskey, his sticky gaze crawled over the woman seated in front of him.

 

First it lingered on her round forehead, then her gracefully shaped nose. At first glance, she had a glamorous impression, but it wasn’t overdone thanks to her innocent eyes. Her cheeks and lips, bare of makeup, were tinged with a rosy hue.

 

“…How much did my father borrow?”

 

The delicate voice that escaped her plump lips cracked faintly. As he scanned the forlorn beauty, Taejeong tilted the bottle to set it down.

 

Wasn’t she twenty-five this year? Unlike other twenty-five-year-olds he had seen, Song Seorin was unbearably dry. From the way she silently bowed her head, it seemed she had endured her father’s disgrace more than once.

 

“I’ll repay it little by little each month.”

 

Just because she was used to bowing her head before loan sharks didn’t mean she was unfamiliar with shame. As her fingers clenched on her knees, Seorin tightly shut her eyes.

 

Song Mansik incurred the debts, and Song Seorin repaid them—an old, stale routine between father and daughter. Even pocket change was extorted by Mansik, yet Seorin always chose to remain in the gutter.

 

Her father was the only one who knew the whereabouts of the mother who had grown weary of poverty and violence and abandoned her child before fleeing. If she wanted to find her mother, even if only to resent her, she had to stay trapped in the moss-ridden fish tank that was Song Mansik.

 

“So just for a month… No, even a few days would be enough if you’d allow it—”

 

“What will you do if it’s an amount that can’t be paid off in a few days?”

 

Despite the determined question, Taejeong scoffed and lifted his glass. Each time he tilted it, the amber whiskey rippled side to side.

 

To Sa Taejeong, expensive liquor, a woman more costly than she appeared, and her father were nothing more than toys in his grasp. When Taejeong tilted his chin, Chief Kang, who was standing beside him, opened the leather file on the table.

 

[Loan Transaction Agreement]

 

The stark black letters printed on the white paper danced before Seorin’s eyes. The densely written contract terms beneath them were no different.

 

“The principal alone is five hundred million won.”

 

The astronomical number, which she thought only existed in theory, rang in her ears. Seorin, who had turned pale at the unexpected figure, counted the zeros after the five over and over. It was an incomprehensible amount.

 

Mansik had long become a credit delinquent due to repeated business failures. The only institutions that would deal with him were shady third-tier lenders, and even then, his loan limit never exceeded ten million won.

 

“With an interest rate of 6%, the monthly repayment comes to about ten million won.”

 

Yet now, just the monthly repayment alone was ten million won. Already struggling to cover the debts her father owed to loan sharks, the amount she had to pay had now doubled.

 

The tears she had held back for so long now choked her throat. Had Mansik managed to flee in the night, the massive debt he left behind would have fallen solely on Seorin.

 

“To make matters worse, defective parts were delivered, causing delays in the construction schedule.”

 

“Ha…”

 

Seorin exhaled heavily and clenched her teeth. Her life was no different from a swamp. The harder she struggled to escape poverty, the deeper she sank into the mire.

 

Taejeong raised his glass to his lips, using the trembling woman before him as an appetizer. Each time his Adam’s apple undulated sensuously, Seorin’s eyes reddened a bit more.

 

“So we’re also considering filing a claim for damages.”

 

“…What should I do?”

 

Though her eyes were flushed red, her voice was desolate. She tensed her eyebrows to hold back tears and forced herself to swallow dryly, yet she didn’t avert her gaze from Taejeong.

 

“Right now, repaying ten million won at once is… If you could just be a little understanding…”

 

“I’m not expecting to be repaid in money either.”

 

Despite the detached reply, her stiff neck twitched as she raised her head. Unlike Seorin, who held faint hope, Sa Taejeong set down his empty glass with a bored expression.

 

“Instead, I’m thinking of taking something else.”

 

“Something else… What do you mean by that…?”

 

As Seorin trailed off, Taejeong slightly moved his thick brows. His empty hand gestured toward the men standing off in the corner. They were the same men who had stepped foot in Seorin’s house.

 

Whether they were secretaries, bodyguards, or debt collectors was unclear, but Chief Kang approached them. Soon after, he placed something in front of Taejeong. It was a bag with even the shoulder straps worn out.

 

Not long after, its contents spilled onto the table. Brushes, a palette, two sketchbooks, a pencil case, and a portfolio file. Traces of her passion littered the table like junk, and Seorin flinched.

 

“I heard a bit from Chief Kang. They say you were the top student at Korea University’s College of Fine Arts.”

 

Taejeong, rummaging through Song Seorin’s belongings as if to flaunt it, picked up a vertically long sketchbook. Slightly larger than his hand, the sketchbook was worn at the corners, showing its age.

 

“You took a leave of absence right after your second year.”

 

As he flipped through the firm cover, bold graphite lines emerged. A collection of croquis sketches, depicting bodily movement through subtle control of pressure at the fingertips.

 

With a leisurely touch, he turned the rough paper. Perhaps to save money, the pages were filled with countless cramped sketches.

 

Among them were nude croquis. The curved lines of the female form and the somewhat rugged male physique were depicted without omission. As Taejeong skimmed the explicit drawings, he looked past the sketchbook at the woman.

 

“You’re working at a prep art academy now, right?”