TIOAWN Chapter 5
by Ariana“Mr. Seo, why on earth—”
“Why? Madam, today’s the day we collect the principal. Did you forget?”
Seo Myung-sik squatted down to make eye contact with the woman.
“I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I paid two months’ interest in advance, and you definitely said—”
“Madam.”
When Seo Myung-sik reached out his hand, a man dressed in black handed him a piece of paper.
“Take a good look.”
Tap, tap.
Seo Myung-sik rolled the paper into a tube, lightly tapped the woman’s cheek with it, then unfolded it and shook it in front of her.
“Can’t see it? Are your eyes just for decoration?”
He grabbed the woman’s head tightly and pushed her face close to the paper.
“There, you see it now?”
“N-No, this must be some kind of mistake. I’ve always paid the interest on time and have never done anything to displease you, sir—”
“Madam. So, you’re saying I’ve lost my mind and am pulling this kind of stunt for no reason? Is that it?”
“I-I must’ve gotten the date wrong. My child’s surgery is tomorrow, so please, just give me one more day. I’ll figure something out—”
Seo Myung-sik tossed the paper behind him and let out a laugh, as if he found her words absurd.
“You shouldn’t hog a hospital room when you can’t afford it. That’s just greed, you know.”
“If my child doesn’t get the transplant, he’ll die. You know that.”
The woman begged desperately, bowing repeatedly.
“I couldn’t care less whether your kid lives or dies. I collected the hospital bill installment in advance because I didn’t want you dragging this out. So, let’s wrap this up. Pay the rest of the money. Got it?”
“What? You collected the installment? You can’t! Please, you can’t do this. I beg you, think it over just this once.”
The woman clung to Seo Myung-sik’s leg with both hands, pleading.
“Poor people always have such big dreams. You have no idea how precious other people’s money is. Why, are you going to sell your body now?”
Seo Myung-sik crouched down and smirked as he groped the woman’s chest. She bit her lip hard, unable to utter another word, when he suddenly stood up.
“Forget it. Damn it. Even if you sell your body, it’s no use this time. I’m tired of dealing with pennies like this. I need to live more comfortably. So, why don’t you take the easy way out and get lost?”
Seo Myung-sik kicked the leg she was holding onto, sending the woman sprawling to the floor.
***
With a heavy breath, Moo-geon sat up.
Whenever he got injured, the past would hit him like a relentless wave, pulling him into its depths like quicksand, mocking the 15 years that had gone by.
“Damn it.”
The memories were excruciatingly vivid.
If only he had broken Seo Myung-sik’s neck back then, maybe So-eun would still be alive.
But what good were regrets now?
The wounds he had carefully stitched up seemed to throb, as if they had been torn open again.
Dr. Yoon wasn’t sloppy enough to botch the stitching and vanish, so the issue had to be his own sensations.
Irritated, Moo-geon swept his bangs back and pressed hard against his wound with one hand. It was a self-punishing action, but he didn’t let go.
Blood seeped through, staining the bandage that covered the stitched wound. A burning heat prickled at the nape of his neck.
Only then did the lingering shadows of the past dissipate, like smoke.
He swung his legs off the bed and threw the now-bloodied gauze aside. As he strode forward on long legs, his gown fell from his shoulders.
His level shoulders, broad deltoids, straight spinal erectors, and muscular back looked like sculpted works of art.
Black shirts and matching trousers were neatly arranged in a line. Among the sea of black in the dressing room, the stark white bandage stood out.
Thick fingers traced the bandage as he moved, half-covering his pronounced abs. A black shirt fit snugly over his body. With practiced ease, he fastened the cufflinks and grabbed his jacket before stepping out of the house.
***
The schedule that started early in the morning only ended when the night had grown pitch dark.
“Sir, it’s Kang-heon.”
The man who entered brushed off his clothes briskly. His nape ached with a stiff tension.
“Keep a close watch so she doesn’t die.”
Moo-geon’s words suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
Why had he specifically left Seo Ha-yoon outside the house?
It would’ve been more efficient to have Jaegyu or Hyunho drag her around like a dog or keep her locked up and threaten her.
Looking back, even telling him to simply send formal notices seemed peculiar.
Seo Myung-sik wasn’t a political heavyweight, so why go through all the formalities of ruining his reputation and sticking red labels on him?
At this point, Kang-heon started to doubt whether what Moo-geon truly desired was debt repayment.
He brushed away his scattered thoughts and walked with determination.
Whatever the reason, his role was to do whatever Cha Moo-geon ordered. Crossing boundaries would only cause trouble.
“I’ve dealt with the tail ends within my scope.”
“Good work.”
The chilly, low voice remained the same, but a hint of fatigue seeped through. Kang-heon paused while lowering the tablet, raising his head.
It wasn’t unusual for Moo-geon to let his bangs fall forward on occasion, but his complexion was slightly different—more arid, more drained, like a desert… and a bit feverish?
The train of thought that had spread like branches suddenly snapped.
“Sir, could it be that your wound has worsened…?”
Having noticed Moo-geon’s poor condition in the morning, Kang-heon had summoned Dr. Yoon to the office.
Fortunately, the stitches hadn’t reopened; the bleeding was just due to incomplete healing, Dr. Yoon had explained.
Despite the doctor’s recommendation to take antibiotics, Moo-geon had waved it off irritably.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have sent Dr. Yoon away so readily.
“Continue the report.”
Moo-geon cut through Kang-heon’s concerns with a sharp remark.
“The donation has been completed. Would you like to verify it?”
There was no response. Moo-geon leaned back and closed his eyes.
Every year, one hundred million won. Occasionally, fifty million whenever he felt like it. Moo-geon donated to help heart disease patients.
At first, it was baffling. A boss who was indifferent to everything and sometimes acted ruthlessly enough to make your knees buckle, making donations? And for the sick, of all people? Kang-heon had no choice but to shut his mouth when he heard something somewhere.
“Vice President Cha had a younger sister, didn’t he? I heard there was a big age gap. She supposedly died right before a heart transplant. Anyway, never bring that up in front of Vice President Cha.”
It had been more of a warning than a statement.
In this field, who didn’t have a past? But fractured pasts often turned into untouchable scars. If it could be buried, it was best to bury it all the way to hell.
“Seo Ha-yoon.”
The demand for a report flew in like a finely honed blade. Kang-heon adjusted his posture, swallowing hard.
“How far has she gone in her search for her father?”
Moo-geon clasped his hands and leaned forward slightly. The atmosphere turned tense in an instant.
Just how far had she wandered, desperately looking for him?
“That is…”
When Kang-heon hesitated and trailed off, Moo-geon’s voice dropped a notch.
“Chief Ji.”
“She’s still in front of her house.”
“What?”
Instead of running herself ragged and crying her eyes out looking for her father, she was just sitting in front of the house?
His head throbbed, and one side of his mouth twisted. His dark brows furrowed sharply upward.
***
The haphazard lines she had drawn smoothed out, forming a winter landscape. The picture painted on the asphalt canvas was close to a work of art.
Ha-yoon lifted her head. The stars decorating the sky twinkled as if greeting her.
“It’s night.”
Time flowed like a stream—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly—as dawn brightened, the sun rose, and evening fell.
Her growling stomach had quieted.
She had never eaten much, but lately, it had gotten worse. There were days when she barely managed to nibble on a banana all day because she couldn’t focus on her drawing.
One chocolate bar was enough to fill her for a day.
Satisfied, Ha-yoon rubbed her stomach and picked up a small stone with her other hand.
Her hand, which had been drawing branches, slowed noticeably, and her eyelids grew heavy. Her body tilted to one side. Even as the wind tousled her hair, she barely blinked. Just as she was about to topple over, her eyes flew open.
“Achoo! Achoo! Sniff.”
Her sneezes continued, the coat alone unable to fend off the cold.
Even Ju Hyun-ho, who had been scouring the mansion all night to report the lack of abnormalities, ended up draping his coat over Ha-yoon without much hesitation.
“Bro.”
Oh Jae-gyu, who had braced himself for a scolding, looked back at him in confusion.
“What?”
“Uh, well, is this okay?”
Jae-gyu feigned concern. In truth, he was more worried about the boss scolding him than about the small woman.
“If she dies, we’re the ones screwed.”
Hyun-ho’s sharp tone reminded him to stay alert.
“Yeah, you’re right, but something feels off…” Jae-gyu muttered, unable to fully agree or disagree, nodding vaguely.
“Look. She could die any moment.”
To Hyun-ho, who was nearly 190 cm tall, Seo Ha-yoon probably looked like a fragile baby.
“That’s true. The boss told us to make sure she doesn’t die.”
Jae-gyu quickly agreed. If it had been a debtor, he could at least intimidate or threaten them, but she was merely bait to catch the debtor. Keeping her alive was crucial.
He recalled his superior, Ji Kang-heon’s, words.
“Huh?”
A faint sound from Ha-yoon made the two men turn their heads simultaneously.
“Snow.”
Bundled up in two coats, Ha-yoon shivered as the cold flakes fell on the back of her hand.
White crystals landed on the snowflake she had been drawing. Marveling at the falling snow, she clutched her coat tighter.
Her breath puffed out visibly in the air. Watching the traces of the melting crystals disappear, Ha-yoon moved her hands quickly to draw the snow accumulating on the ground.
Before long, white snow had piled up on the black coat.
It’s the perfect weather to freeze to death. Damn it.
Hyun-ho and Jae-gyu exchanged glances, swallowing the curses that had come to mind simultaneously.