The morning sun, bright and unforgiving, poured into the bedroom, revealing a beautiful, chaotic mess. Sheets were tangled around the bedposts, pillows were strewn across the floor, and in the middle of it all, lay two people in a loving, tangled embrace. Hae-in's leg was draped over Hyun-woo's, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, and his arm was wrapped securely around her waist. Laughter and playful tussles from the night before had finally given way to a deep, contented sleep.
Hyun-woo woke first, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he took in their position. He gently kissed the top of her head, his heart swelling with a profound sense of peace. "I missed this," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed waking up with you in my arms."
Hae-in stirred, her eyes fluttering open. A soft, sleepy smile touched her lips, but then her gaze landed on his chest, and her expression changed to a playful scowl. She gently poked his side. "I missed this too," she said, her voice a little groggy, "but you, you menace... I'm going to have a hard time explaining these." She pointed a finger at the hickeys he had left on her neck.
Hyun-woo looked at her, then at the faint, tell-tale marks on her fair skin. A wide, triumphant grin spread across his face. "I'm a menace, am I?" he said, his voice laced with a victorious satisfaction. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget who was really in charge."
Hae-in's playful pout didn't waver. "You did not," she grumbled, but there was no real heat in her words. She was, in fact, secretly pleased. He had left his mark on her, a sign of his love, his passion, and his claim. A sign that she was his and he was hers.
Later that morning, the couple arrived at the office together, the quiet intimacy of their morning now replaced by the usual hustle and bustle of corporate life. They went their separate ways, each to their own duties, but the easy confidence that had been born between them in the car and the bedroom was a new and tangible presence.
A few hours later, Hyun-woo was in his office with a legal representative from a high-profile German brand. The woman, a sophisticated blonde in her early forties, was waiting for Hyun-woo to finish drafting a legal contract. As he worked, they fell into easy conversation.
"You know," the woman said, her voice laced with a charming German accent, "you remind me so much of my husband. He is a lawyer too, and he is just as focused and charming as you are."
Hyun-woo, ever polite and professional, laughed. "I take that as a great compliment. German lawyers are known for their efficiency and charm."
Their conversation flowed easily, filled with professional talk and lighthearted jokes. The woman laughed at one of his wittier comments, a genuine, delighted sound. In her amusement, she reached out and placed a friendly hand on his forearm, a gesture that was completely innocent but, to an outsider, looked far too intimate.
Hae-in and Secretary Na were walking past his office, their path taking them by the glass walls of Hyun-woo's office. Hae-in was in her element, her face a cool, impassive mask of professional detachment. But the moment she saw the scene inside, that professional detachment shattered.
Her eyes, sharp and perceptive, took in every detail: the woman laughing, Hyun-woo's relaxed posture, and, most importantly, the hand on his forearm. A familiar, cold jealousy, a beast she thought she had finally tamed, roared to life within her. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists at her side, her jaw tightening. Her breathing became short and shallow, and a look of pure, unadulterated fury settled on her face. Her mind went into a cold, dangerous spiral. A German hussy. Trying to seduce my man. The phrase, so childish and so utterly true to her possessive nature, echoed in her mind.
Secretary Na, who had been watching her boss's emotional state with a practiced eye, saw the storm brewing. She quickly, discreetly, placed a hand on Hae-in's arm. "Director Hong," she whispered, her voice a quiet, firm warning. "Calm down. It's just a handshake. A cultural gesture."
Hae-in flinched at the touch, her fury almost bursting out. But the quiet reminder was enough to hold her back. She couldn't murder a foreign representative in front of her entire company. The thought, however, was still very, very tempting.
She took a deep, shaky breath, but the fury didn't subside. It just found a new outlet. In her next meeting, she was a force of nature, her anger fueling a sharp, merciless efficiency that left everyone in the room scrambling to keep up. The meeting, which was scheduled to last an hour, was over in twenty minutes, her sharp questions and pointed remarks leaving no room for a discussion.
When the meeting ended, she stormed back to her office, her anger still a boiling cauldron. She pressed a button on her intercom. "Secretary Na," she said, her voice a cold, dangerous growl, "call Director Baek to my office. Now."
Hyun-woo, a few minutes later, walked into her office, a curious look on his face. He saw her, standing by the window, her back to him, her posture rigid. He knew that look. That was her "I'm about to murder someone" look.
He walked toward her, a small, knowing smile on his face. "You wanted to see me, my dear wife?" he asked, his voice laced with a soft, playful humor.
Hae-in turned to face him, her eyes narrowed into a furious glare. "Did you enjoy your little conversation with the German representative?" she asked, her voice dangerously low. "You seemed to be having a lot of fun. I'm surprised you could tear yourself away from her."
Hyun-woo's smile widened. He had been waiting for this. The jealousy, the possessiveness, the anger—it was all a testament to her feelings for him. He took a slow, deliberate step towards her, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Jealous, my dear wife?" he asked, a knowing grin on his face.
Hae-in's eyes flared, and she took a step back, her back hitting the window. "Jealous? Don't be ridiculous!" she huffed, her voice filled with a desperate denial. "I'm a CEO. I don't get jealous." But her next words, spoken without a filter, were a direct contradiction. "I was just worried. That some foreign… some foreign hussy was trying to seduce my man. And my man, my husband, seemed to be enjoying it a little too much!"
She stopped, her eyes wide with shock. She had said it. The truth had slipped out. She had played right into his hands. Her angry, jealous rant had just been a childish confession. She looked at him, her face a mortified crimson, and a pout, a deep, frustrated pout, settled on her lips. She had done it again. She had let him win. And he hadn't even had to try.