TIOAWN Chapter 28
by Ariana“Sir.”
Kang-heon, who had finished Ha-yoon’s hospital admission process, approached Moo-geon.
“Regarding the Wonju accident.”
“Report.”
Moo-geon, who had been glancing at Ha-yoon, slowly turned. Leaning halfway against the hospital room door, he jerked his chin toward Kang-heon.
“It seems a prosecutor is involved now.”
This could get complicated. Kang-heon’s expression was uncharacteristically serious.
“Prosecutor?”
“Park Seung-ho. Formerly of the Chuncheon District Prosecutors’ Office, recently transferred to the Central Prosecutors’ Office.”
“Must have an impressive record.”
Moo-geon’s sarcastic remark was swiftly countered by Kang-heon. “No. His promotions aren’t merit-based. The cases assigned to him aren’t notable either.”
“A strategic promotion, then.”
Moo-geon twisted his right lip mockingly.
“The backer must be Vice President Song Woo-jin.”
So they’re targeting me for violating the Wonju scaffolding removal order. Choosing someone from my side made their intent obvious.
Despite the gravity of the report, Moo-geon remained unfazed. He combed his hair back leisurely, his snake tattoo mirroring his calm.
Only Seo Ha-yoon reacted.
She tilted her head, studying Moo-geon’s unfamiliar demeanor—his dry, emotionless tone a stark contrast to how he usually addressed her.
His tall frame blocking the door, prominent Adam’s apple, muscular arms, and the elegant snake tattoo coiling over his skin. Every inch of him was meticulous, leaving nothing overlooked.
“Handle Wonju by going there personally. Finish the Yangyang report first.”
“Huh?”
“There is nothing else?”
Realizing Moo-geon hadn’t missed his hesitation at the small Yangyang hospital, Kang-heon stiffened. Of course—Cha Moo-geon overlooks nothing.
“I’m concerned the Songhwa Group might misunderstand you keeping Seo Ha-yoon here. They could assume you intentionally took her to obstruct Jin Bo-young.”
Misunderstand? Moo-geon’s eyes narrowed.
“Vice President Song Woo-jin—and by extension, Chairman Song Ho-yeol and Jin Bo-young—would twist this.”
Kang-heon clasped his hands, awaiting orders.
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s not a misunderstanding.”
Moo-geon replied flatly.
“Not a misunderstanding…?”
“Jin Bo-young has no right to take Seo Ha-yoon.”
Kang-heon faltered at the deliberate provocation.
Since Song Woo-jin wants to humiliate Moo-geon, Jin Bo-young won’t get what she wants.
As Kang-heon nodded belatedly, familiar men entered—Oh Jae-gyu and Joo Hyun-ho.
“You called, sir.”
Summoned from the main district, they showed no surprise or curiosity. They only glanced at Ha-yoon before bowing deeply under Moo-geon’s gaze.
“Report.”
At Kang-heon’s cue, Joo Hyun-ho spoke.
“Lee Sung-sik illegally broke into Seo Myung-sik’s home. We tailed him, thinking he might track Seo Myung-sik’s movements… He even visited the hospital Ha-yoon—uh, Ms. Seo Ha-yoon—attended.”
Hyun-ho stumbled over how to address Ha-yoon but relaxed when Moo-geon showed no reaction.
“And?”
The warning in Moo-geon’s voice was heavy.
“He asked about her treatment schedule—dates, times. Clearly, he’s searching for her.”
“What about her bank accounts?”
Moo-geon’s sharp eyes turned to Kang-heon.
“No accounts under Ms.Seo Ha-yoon’s name. No debts either.”
Moo-geon rubbed his brow, intrigued.
“Did you track Seo Myung-sik’s visits to Gallery R? Dates, times, purposes?”
“We confirmed. He frequented the gallery just before Jin Bo-young’s exhibitions.”
Kang-heon added unprompted, “He brought paintings each time but left empty-handed.”
“As expected.”
Moo-geon smirked.
“No bank transfers, but cash transactions are likely.”
Paintings. Moo-geon was now certain: Seo Myung-sik sold Ha-yoon’s art to Jin Bo-young.
If those funded Songhwa’s slush funds, this could get interesting.
Amusement flickered in his indifferent eyes.
Like father, like daughter. Cute move, Ha-yoon.
“List all Ha-yoon’s paintings displayed at the gallery. Search Seo Myung-sik’s house for the rest.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jin Bo-young should’ve never started looking for Ha-yoon. Who’d have thought evidence to shake Songhwa would fall into my lap?”
“Jin… Bo-young?”
Moo-geon, who had shown no reaction to the news of the prosecutor’s involvement, finally turned with visible irritation. A small voice cut through the tension.
Unsurprisingly, it was Seo Ha-yoon.
“Is that person looking for me?”
Her abrupt movement tightened the IV line.
Ah. Moo-geon swiftly steadied her as she swayed.
“Why? If they call, will you run barefoot to them?”
Ignoring his order to stay put, Ha-yoon squirmed. Moo-geon gripped her shoulders painfully and forced her back onto the bed.
“Ah!”
“Endure it. Before I strap you to this bed.”
Even as she winced, Moo-geon turned away coldly. The sliding door shut—this time, he truly left.
“Don’t let her out.”
He tossed the order to someone outside, his tone flat.
***
The hotel suite, with its expensive paintings and minimalist furniture, was pristine as ever. Plush carpets, a flawlessly made bed, sunlight streaming through the windows.
Except for the crumpled white shirt, tangled red lingerie, and liquor bottles leaking onto the floor. The scene reeked of decadence.
“Ah… Hah…”
The woman’s moans, laced with forced allure, continued relentlessly until dawn.
Song Woo-jin’s slick back muscles rippled as he thrust into her, his eyes half-mad.
“Fuck. Spread your legs properly!”
“It hurts! Ah… Honey!”
She writhed, trying to escape, but Woo-jin didn’t stop. His hips slammed into her, as if to pierce her womb.
“Ah!”
Her scream sharpened.
“Stop! It hurts!”
She clawed wildly at his face. Woo-jin laughed, grabbed a liquor bottle, and poured it down her throat.
“Drink and hut up.”
Gulp. Choking, she gasped as Woo-jin ravaged her like a madman.
“Vice President.”
His secretary entered, expression blank.
“Hah.”
Woo-jin pulled out, stroked himself, and shoved his cock into her mouth. Cum foamed at her lips as he finished.
“Tch. Pathetic.”
He collapsed onto the sofa, naked and limp.
“Ms.Yang.”
At the secretary’s call, a woman in a white coat stepped in. She bowed neatly.
“Are you unwell?”
The secretary nodded toward Woo-jin. Ms.Yang approached, rolling up her sleeves.
Her navy blouse, black skirt, and stockings drew Woo-jin’s leer.
“Well, kinda. But Ms. Yang, your buttons look suffocating.”
She ignored him and jabbed an IV needle into his arm.
“Ah! It stings.Don’t you warn people before stabbing them?”
She adjusted the IV fluid indifferently.