Antinomy Chapter 3

“H! Are you out of your mind?! You had us so worried because you weren’t responding!”

 

Emil, who was sitting in front of a monitor, shouted as he saw Hye-young. At that, Ricardo, who had been standing behind Emil, lightly kicked the chair Emil was sitting in.

 

“Quiet, Emil.”

 

“The leader was worried too!”

 

“Hye-young.”

 

Ignoring Emil’s words, Ricardo stepped forward and called out to Hye-young. His clear blue eyes turned to her. Every time she looked into those eyes, Hye-young thought how alien they felt. Unlike those eyes, his skin was bronzed and his hair was dark.

 

“Yes, Leader.”

 

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

 

“No.”

 

At Hye-young’s brief response, Ricardo furrowed his brow for a moment before speaking again.

 

“What happened?”

 

It was a fleeting moment, but Hye-young hesitated. Should she confess that she had met the boss of the Favard family or not? The microchip containing the list was already in her possession, and she had no reason to face him again. There was no need to stir up unnecessary worry.

 

“Nothing. I just lost my earpiece while running away. The situation was urgent.”

 

Ricardo was silent for a moment. He stared at Hye-young intently, then took off the leather jacket he was wearing. He approached her and held it out.

 

“Put this on.”

 

“It’s okay. I’ll change right away—”

 

“Put it on.”

 

At Ricardo’s firm tone, Hye-young accepted the leather jacket, realizing she had no choice.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Only after Hye-young took the jacket did Ricardo turn away. As she quietly tried to put it on, she remembered that she was still wearing the skimpy dress. Hye-young zipped the jacket up to her neck and sat next to Emil.

 

“H, do you know how worried I was?!”

 

“Was that worry? I thought it was just nagging.”

 

Emil pouted and grumbled. His youth showed in moments like this—just like a teenage boy. Though Emil thought of himself not as a boy, but a handsome man.

 

“Good job, H. Since you completed the mission, let’s take a bit of a break now.”

 

“Before that, here.”

 

Hye-young pulled the microchip from the holster strapped to her thigh and handed it to Emil.

 

“We need to extract the list, right?”

 

At that moment, Emil’s eyes sparkled.

 

“Alright! Leave it to me.”

 

In an instant, Emil took the microchip from Hye-young’s hand and turned his attention back to the monitor. As Hye-young watched, she couldn’t hold back a smile, but when she looked up, Ricardo was looking at her. His expression was troubled. Hye-young quickly turned her head away, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

 

So she wouldn’t harbor even a sliver of that wretched hope again.

 

***

 

There was a knock, and the door opened. Despite not being told to come in, the man who entered was wearing black horn-rimmed glasses. Mathew opened his mouth without even glancing at the man who walked in as if he were used to the thick cigar smoke that filled the room.

 

“Giovanni.”

 

Giovanni pushed up his glasses. His face looked puzzled. His eyes landed squarely on Mathew’s suit jacket thrown over the bed. Mathew was a man who remained composed even after sex. He didn’t take off his black leather gloves or his jacket. He simply unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, did the act, and finished. A condom was a must. The partner probably didn’t even receive any foreplay before being hastily sent out of the room as soon as Mathew was done. And all of this stemmed from Mathew’s perfectionism and obsessive cleanliness.

 

“Looks like the mood’s been ruined.”

 

Giovanni, clearly assuming something had happened, was about to continue when—

 

“Not really.”

 

But Mathew’s lips were curled up, making it hard to say his mood was ruined. It wasn’t a sneer, but a satisfied smile. Giovanni tilted his head, narrowing his brow.

 

“Signore Mathew.”

 

“Looks like the DIA is moving.”

 

DIA. Giovanni nodded with a cold expression.

 

“They moved faster than expected.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

The Liberta Art Auction House. From the start, it was a place only for the chosen. They strictly verified identities at the entrance, including fingerprint recognition. The one thing all these chosen people wanted—Money laundering.

 

Famous artists’ works broke record prices every time, and even paintings of uncertain value were sold for astronomical sums. That’s right. This place wasn’t for trading art—it was an elegant and luxurious laundromat for their money. The person running the auction was a well-known big-time businessman in Europe. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that half of Europe’s illegal money was laundered through him.

 

But there was one thing that differed from the public perception. The high-class laundromat may have been operated by a powerful businessman, but the one who profited from using him was Mathew. He appeared as a customer, and thoroughly exploited the financial, political, and global networks of every auction participant to his benefit.

 

It wasn’t difficult for Mathew. He was exceptionally talented at handling people and highly skilled in negotiation and psychological warfare. That was also the reason he became the head of House Favard over his half-brother, Tesman.

 

“Telling Massimo to swap the chip was a good idea, Giovanni. There’s still a lot we can use. Would’ve been a waste if we got caught this early.”

 

Mathew, who had been rising from his seat with a dry expression, turned his gaze toward the jacket tossed on the bed. That naturally made him think of the woman who had just been on top of him.

 

He had thought all East Asians looked similar, but his perception changed thanks to his half-brother Tesman’s wife, Sua. For someone Asian, she had pale skin and rosy cheeks. Whenever he saw her, he thought of a white rabbit. She always looked so startled.

 

But the Asian woman he saw today was different. Entirely different from Sua, and unlike any East Asian he had ever known. Her bold attitude, eyes that refused to back down. The way their gazes locked had been straight and unwavering. He could tell, even without experiencing it firsthand—she must have a very upright sense of conviction. And that meant she was also very pure. Just from the way she slapped him hard across the cheek for touching her chest, it was obvious.

 

[“I owe you, so I’ll help you sometime too.”]

 

Only then did it make sense why Tesman had corrupted Sua, who used to be a nun. For Mathew or Tesman, forcing someone to bow through money or violence was a trivial matter. But what if they could break a noble conviction that wouldn’t bend even under money or force?

 

[ “As long as it’s not illegal, of course.” ]

 

Ah. It would be fun if she did break.

 

Giovanni, quietly watching Mathew as he stared at the jacket with a peculiar expression, spoke up.

 

“I’ll bring you a new suit.”

 

“No.”

 

Mathew reached out and picked up the jacket. Watching Mathew walk out of the room holding the jacket instead of putting it on, Giovanni couldn’t hide his confusion. In over ten years of being at Mathew’s side, not once had he ever seen him carry his jacket in his hands.