Vol. 1 Chapter 2.1

“I figured we might run into each other in Seoul, but I never expected it to be like this.”

It feels like an unexpected gift.

Yoonha’s lips parted, as if to respond, but the words never made it out. She pressed her mouth shut again. That small silence was enough to draw a change in Yunseok. His red-tinted lips tightened into a flat, unreadable line.

“You don’t recognize me?”

“No,” she said quickly, cutting off his disbelief before it could deepen.

She could feel it. That shift in his mood, and she instinctively shook her head again.

“I recognize you. You’re Yunseok Jeong.”

As if I could ever forget you.

Yunseok’s expression brightened into a slow, radiant smile, as if he could read her quiet confession.

It was too much. His gaze on her, heavy and direct, made her turn her head slightly, needing the distance.

He was too close, and it made her uneasy. Five years had passed, and somehow, Yunseok made her more uncomfortable now than ever. His black eyes roamed slowly over her, leaving no inch unexamined.

Yoonha couldn’t hide her unease. His stare wrapped around her like smoke. Maybe she felt guilty. Maybe there was something accusatory in his look. Either way, it left her rattled.

Yunseok said nothing for a moment, just watched as she tried to turn away from him. Then, finally, he spoke.

“So this car’s yours?”

He nudged the rear tire of the vehicle in question with the toe of his shoe, as if amused by the situation.

“Funny. I’ve been driving it around all this time thinking it was mine.”

She knew she needed to say something, anything, but her tongue wouldn’t move. It was like it had turned to lead.

How could she explain any of this?

She’d left without looking back, desperate to start fresh, to live well. And now, here she was, cleaning up after her brother’s mess, right in front of the one person she never wanted to see her like this.

I’m humiliated. Yoonha wanted to bite her tongue and die right there out of sheer embarrassment. Instead, she bit down on the innocent flesh inside her mouth because she didn’t have the guts to sever her own tongue, though maybe landing in the hospital could be her way out of this nightmare.

What if he threw her own past back in her face? After all that cold, decisive leaving, this is how you end up?

Just moments ago, Yoonha had been fueled by duty, obligation, and that twisted sense of resolve born from her mother’s plea. Now, she just wanted to run. Run far away from this place, from him, from the past crashing down around her.

Yunseok Jeong looked down at her quietly, reading the silence she offered, then turned his head slightly.

“Minjun.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man who had come out of the container with him, a sharp, stone-faced figure, responded immediately.

Yunseok’s smile instantly vanished, replaced by a blank, almost bored expression. He gave a slight nod.

“Didn’t you say I could drive this car around however I wanted?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You said I could drive it into the ground if I wanted. Scrap it, whatever. That it was clean.”

“That’s what I told you, sir.”

“Then what the fuck is this?”

His voice was still smooth and slow, like honey laced with venom. It took Yoonha a beat to register that he’d just cursed, because even his swearing sounded effortless.

Minjun opened his mouth stiffly.

“My apologies, sir.”

“A GPS? Is this the kind of car you think I should be driving?”

“It came from President Han’s side. I’ll look into the issue right away.”

“Han? Then it must be one of those cars the Gangwon kids ditched.”

Yunseok muttered absently, letting the pieces click into place. Then, he gave a soft laugh.

“Figures.”

Yoonha bit down on her lower lip in silence. To anyone else, that laugh might’ve sounded light, even charming, but she heard it for what it was. Mockery.

Of course it’s funny to you.

She felt the sting rise in her throat. Anger, humiliation, frustration all tangled together, but had nowhere to put it. So she just stood there, watching his shoulders shake with the laughter he didn’t bother hiding.

After a while, Yunseok exhaled a sigh laced with residual amusement and tilted his head toward her.

“Your younger brother? Or is it Yoonsung?”

Just minutes ago, Yoonha Kim had been throwing around threats and name-dropping the police. Now, she couldn’t even open her mouth.

The weight of guilt clinging to her tongue kept Yoonha quiet. She didn’t want to humiliate herself in front of Yunseok Jeong by listing out her family’s stupidity. She didn’t have to, he probably already knew.

While Yoonha kept silent, Yunseok waited patiently. He wanted to hear that fierce, unfiltered voice of hers again, the same one he could hear so clearly from inside the container.

He kind of wished she’d snap at him too, argue about whose name the car was registered under. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d have an excuse to ruffle her hair and say it was because her bravery was admirable.

But Yoonha Kim didn’t speak. His patience wore thin, and the easy smile fell from his face.

“Yoonha.”

He leaned forward slightly, lowering himself until his eyes were level with hers. The way he said her name, soft and low, like a sigh pulled straight from his chest, made her brow twitch.

He looked up at her from that slouched posture, one brow arched slightly.

“You don’t want to talk to me, is that it?”

His voice had a quiet sharpness to it, something caught between disappointment and disapproval. Yoonha hesitated, but finally found the nerve to speak.

“This car is under my younger brother’s name. Using it like this, with the plate switched and the registration wiped, it’s illegal, and you know it.”

Yeah. Running into Yunseok Jeong didn’t make a difference. There was no need to dredge up childhood memories or past regrets. She had nothing to feel guilty for. Nothing criminal, at least. Just… an old discomfort that never fully left her.

And now, it felt even stranger to pity a man who had grown into someone so composed, so completely untouchable. He was no longer a lost boy. He stood above her now, in every sense that mattered.

“We tracked it through the GPS. The seller gave us the data. That’s our car.”

“So you want it back.”

Yunseok didn’t like the polite distance in her tone, but he didn’t call her out for it. What struck him more was her effort to draw a line between them. It was admirable, almost painfully so.