TIOAWN Chapter 7

“1,394,300,000 won.”

 

Moo-geon leaned forward and whispered in a low voice. Ha-yoon, who had momentarily returned to consciousness after dozing in the car, turned pale again.

 

“The interest rate is 5%, I suppose.”

 

Even at just 5% of 10 billion won, it amounted to 500 million won.

 

Ha-yoon inhaled sharply.

 

“You could go find your father even now.”

 

Moo-geon straightened his upper body and gestured toward the door with his chin. Ha-yoon’s pupils followed the motion.

 

“Or you can prove your worth.”

 

Worth? Ha-yoon’s pupils trembled as if struck by an earthquake.

 

“I—”

 

Startled, she turned her body and stepped back. Losing her balance as her heel caught on a ledge, Ha-yoon staggered and grabbed the bathroom door with both hands to steady herself.

 

“Yes, your worth.”

 

Moo-geon closed the distance with absurd speed, his long, straight legs stopping mercifully just one step away.

 

“Do I… have to repay my father’s debt?”

 

“Debt?”

 

Ah, yes. Debt.

 

The massive figure, which seemed to swallow even the moonlight streaming in, exuded arrogance. He curled one side of his lip into a smirk.

 

“Of course. Seo Myung-sik’s debt, repaid by Seo Ha-yoon. To my satisfaction.”

 

Moo-geon’s pupils gleamed sharply.

 

“To the level of your… satisfaction?”

 

“Not like this! I told you to draw it to my standards, Seo Ha-yoon!”

 

Ha-yoon inhaled deeply at the familiar ringing in her ears, a sensation stabbing deeply into her lungs.

 

It felt like being caught in a tightly spun spider’s web. Her limbs were bound, and even breathing wasn’t within her control.

 

To Ha-yoon, proving her “worth” was precisely that.

 

No matter how much she waved her arms or moved her legs, she remained stuck in place, unable to escape the trap. Ha-yoon had spent her entire life eating, sleeping, and drawing within that snare.

 

Ha-yoon bit her lower lip and mulled over the sum.

 

Clatter, clatter. The windows rattled noisily. The cold wind howled fiercely. Even though she was indoors, it felt like standing in a desolate wilderness.

 

What should I do?

 

The reality she had tried so hard to ignore and separate herself from was now right in front of her. Her breath caught, and her vision blurred. Ha-yoon took a step back, almost fleeing.

 

“Ah.”

 

The sink blocked her retreat. Thud. The sound of footsteps on the bathroom tiles echoed in her ears. Just one step. That one step from Moo-geon brought their bodies into contact.

 

Leaning on the sink with both hands, he hovered over her curved form, his smooth movements like a snake, brushing against her chin. His lips approached her ear.

 

“That’s why I told you.”

 

The sensation of soft earlobes being crushed by supple lips was something she hadn’t anticipated. Her toes tingled against the cold tiles. Ha-yoon tightly shut her eyes.

 

“To bring Seo Myung-sik to me.”

 

His resentful, low voice gnawed at her ear. Like a beast ready to tear out her throat, his tone was vicious and brutal.

 

“I will give you one day.”

 

Moo-geon spat out the short word as if chewing on it, then left the house.

 

“—Hah.”

 

Ha-yoon slid down as if collapsing. The cold tiles jolted her back to her senses.

 

***

 

Tap, tap. The hand entering the password was stiff. The sensor light turned on, and the sliding door opened smoothly.

 

The living room was so spacious it was hard to take it all in with one glance. At its center was a spiral staircase. The high ceiling and wide open windows offered a breathtaking night view of the Han River—something money couldn’t easily buy.

 

The impeccably arranged, expensive furniture showed no signs of wear. The temperature was always perfectly maintained, regardless of extreme cold or heat. There wasn’t a speck of dust, let alone insects or mold. Moo-geon let out a heavy sigh as he stepped into the spotless home.

 

“Whew.”

 

Exhaling deeply, he wiped his forehead, now damp with sweat. His abdomen throbbed, and heat radiated through his body.

 

He slowly closed and opened his eyes, then, like Ha-yoon, turned his head to scan the house. He let out a bitter laugh.

 

“How many years has it been? Damn.”

 

The past 15 years clung to him, haunting him whenever he closed his eyes, yet the place where he stood still felt unfamiliar.

 

Now, after finally confronting the past from 15 years ago, Moo-geon’s mood had hit rock bottom.

 

Why had he thrown Seo Ha-yoon into that house?

 

If only she hadn’t staged that freezing-to-death protest, none of this would have happened.

 

“Who’s supposed to benefit from freezing to death, huh? How dare she!”

 

I won’t let Seo Myung-sik or Seo Ha-yoon die so easily.

 

Moo-geon loosened his tie with one hand and placed a hand on his forehead.

 

His head throbbed, and his eyes felt heavy.

 

Moo-geon, who was heading toward the dressing room, turned around and pulled out a bottle of black Bowmore from the display cabinet.

 

The amber liquid swirled in the palm-sized glass. The sharp taste slid smoothly down his throat, but the bitter memories stubbornly clung to it, refusing to be washed away.

 

How far back should he go? Where had things gone wrong? When had their relationship become so twisted?

 

He couldn’t even guess anymore.

 

Was it when Seo Myung-sik appeared, claiming to deliver compensation for his father’s industrial accident?

 

Was it when they couldn’t afford hospital bills and were forced to borrow money from Seo Myung-sik at a high interest rate?

 

Or was it when So-eun collapsed due to her heart condition?

 

As if poverty were a sin, Seo Myung-sik controlled his family with money at every turn, cruelly extinguishing their last hopes.

 

He had tried to dismiss it as just a harsh reality—until he learned that the person who had moved ahead of So-eun on the heart transplant waiting list was Seo Ha-yoon.

 

Moo-geon rapidly filled his glass again and ended up drinking straight from the bottle.

 

That face, unfamiliar with hardship. Those eyes, wishing their reality was just a bad dream. Even those slender, fragile fingers.

 

Each detail stabbed at his heart. The more he looked, the more anger boiled inside him.

 

Moo-geon, who had always maintained a detached and unemotional demeanor, was visibly shaken.

 

By the time more than half the expensive whiskey had disappeared, his vision blurred.

 

If he couldn’t bring Seo Myung-sik to his knees, then he would bring Seo Ha-yoon down instead.

 

He would make that pale face turn ashen and those clear eyes cloud over.

 

“13.943 billion won.”

 

Spending that much to buy Seo Ha-yoon’s misery didn’t seem like a bad idea.

 

Moo-geon let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

 

His breath burned. His forehead seethed as if water were bubbling under the surface. Slamming the bottle down, he moved toward the living room.

 

As he approached to confirm the swirling blur in his vision, he realized it was snow.

 

Looking farther out, he saw snow piling up softly on a low roof. The weather forecast he had heard in the car couldn’t have been more accurate.

 

> “People with heart conditions should pay extra attention to keeping warm.”

 

The weathercaster’s closing remarks pierced his brain.

 

Damn it, Seo Ha-yoon. Moo-geon clenched his teeth. At that moment, his phone vibrated. It was Kang-heon.

 

– “Director, it’s Kang-heon. I have something to report. May I come up?”

 

“Stay there. I’ll come down.”

 

Pale lips. A frozen face. A head so small it fit easily in one hand. Even the tiny hands that had clutched their chest.

 

These memories scratched, scratched, and scratched at his nerves until they were frayed.

 

He wanted to grab them by the neck and snap it right now, but he hesitated again and again.

 

Whether her eyes were open or closed, they annoyed him.

 

When Moo-geon got into the car, his appearance was uncharacteristically disheveled. His shirt was unbuttoned by a few buttons, his bangs damp with sweat. The dark shadows under his eyes and his parched lips added to the picture.

 

Kang-heon, startled, quickly glanced back and opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Drive.”

 

Moo-geon, closing his eyes as if irritated, silenced Kang-heon’s actions with a single word.

 

***

 

Ha-yoon, who had been sitting blankly, stumbled and leaned on the sink.

 

Get a hold of yourself, Seo Ha-yoon.

 

The face reflected in the cracked mirror was undoubtedly hers.

 

Her feet were cold, and her teeth chattered in sync with the wind that had infiltrated the house. It was clear the place hadn’t been lived in for some time. There wasn’t even a single bottle of water, let alone any belongings.

 

– “Prove your worth.”

 

The low voice carried an air of fake generosity, as if granting her one last chance. Arrogant to the point of insolence, yet Ha-yoon thought it was only natural.

 

After all, it was a debt of 13.943 billion won. She was lucky he wasn’t pressing her to pay it back immediately.

 

“Worth?”

 

No matter how much she racked her brain, she couldn’t be sure she was worth 13.943 billion. The more she thought about it, the more fear consumed her.

 

– “You only have one worth. Remember it. All you need to do is paint.”

 

Suddenly, her father’s words came to mind. Whenever she sat idle without a brush in hand, his voice would softly whisper. His tone had been kind, but his gaze was always stern.

 

Be someone of worth, Ha-yoon.

 

Those without worth don’t deserve to eat.

 

Worth, worth, worth.

 

But throughout her life, her worth had only ever been proven through her paintings.

 

Out of habit, Ha-yoon began searching for art supplies. In an empty house like this, it was unlikely there were any.

 

“What do I do?”

 

Biting her lower lip anxiously, she pressed her trembling hands against her chest, where her heart raced uncontrollably.

 

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She couldn’t prove her worth through painting. Deep despair crept up from her toes.

 

The man named Cha Moo-geon had given her a day to prove her worth. Then he had left her here and disappeared.

 

She needed to find something she could do here. What was it? What could she do? What was there?

 

Her vision blurred as if shrouded in fog. Her chest tightened.

 

Think, Seo Ha-yoon.

 

Do something. Anything. Please.