TCBW C70

Chapter 70

Dowoon stared at Sara as though he could bore straight through her.

Her makeup was heavier than usual today, her suit tighter, perfectly contoured to her body—hard lines, bold curves, a silhouette designed to command the room.

If one were to look at her objectively, she was a flawless beauty—glamorous, confident, unabashedly radiant.

“Why? You’re staring holes through me today, Dowoon.”

“……”

“My style, right? Of course. Compared to the women you’ve been with, I’m far more striking. More glamorous, more noticeable. Better for you.”

She deliberately invoked his past lovers, but the only face that surfaced for Dowoon was Su-hoe’s.

At some point, that man’s gaze, his breath—his warmth—had become the first thing his mind reached for.

Yet he did not recognize that his own tastes had shifted.

“…Isn’t that right?”

When he did not answer, Sara’s smile tightened. Then—

Bang.

Her fist slammed the table.

The string quartet choked mid-note; bows froze in the air.

Silence crashed through the hall.

“…I told you last time,” she said, voice steady, “being ignored by you makes me feel like I could go insane.”

She spoke as though she owned the silence, unbothered by the eyes suddenly fixed on her.

Dowoon alone remained serenely calm.

Sara flicked her fingers—resume.

The orchestra stumbled briefly, then music swelled again.

Only then did her lips curve.

“But aren’t you curious?” she asked.

“About what.”

“Why I chose this place. Why here.”

“Do I need to know?”

“Oh, come on. At least pretend to think about it.”

Eyes narrowing, she tilted her head playfully.

“Oh—right. I almost forgot. A gift. I owed you one, so I’m settling that debt today.”

She lifted a hand. A senior waiter hurried over, filling their glasses with a deep ruby wine.

The red liquid cascaded in smooth arcs; Sara watched it with satisfaction glinting in her eyes.

Dowoon swirled his glass, regarding the crimson surface, then lifted it to his nose before taking a measured sip.

Sara missed none of it.

“Remember last time? When our conversation got interrupted?”

She rolled her glass slowly across the white linen, tracing a circle.

“When I told you I wanted you.”

She watched as he finished the wine and dabbed his lips with a napkin, her smile blooming with quiet triumph.

“And I told you I’m done waiting.”

Before her words died, Dowoon set his glass down—gracefully, without a tremor.

But the instant his fingers lifted—

The crystal shuddered.

A subtle vibration at first—then a sudden, unnatural sway, as if the glass itself resisted him.

It tipped, wine spilling over the immaculate tablecloth… sliding, inch by inch, toward the edge.

His mind flashed to Su-hoe—falling, helpless, fragile in mid-air.

Then—

Clink-CRASH.

The crystal hit the floor, exploding into glittering shards.

Even as glass burst outward, his thoughts were elsewhere—on that terrified boy whom fate had dropped before him.

His body lurched. Breath caught. The world tilted.

“Representative!”

Haeon bolted forward as Dowoon staggered. But Dowoon braced a hand on the table and raised his other hand sharply.

Stop.

His amber eyes remained frigid, unwavering. Haeon froze mid-step, stunned by the wordless command. Then anger flashed, and he shot a venomous glare at Sara.

“Director Han—what did you do?”

Steadying himself, Dowoon loosened his tie, breath slightly uneven, and finally spoke.

“…This isn’t a joke anymore. You crossed a line.”

Sara leaned forward, unapologetic, dark amusement glimmering in her eyes.

“Ooh, impressive tolerance. Do you know how difficult this was to obtain? Well—everything about tonight was difficult to obtain.”

Her tone was maddeningly casual.

“This hotel. This restaurant. This time slot. The view. The wine you just drank… and—”

“—gh.”

“Representative! Director Han! What did you put in it?!”

Haeon tried to advance, only to be blocked by Sara’s entourage.

“And the hardest thing to acquire—Lee Dowoon. That was you.”

She lifted her own glass, inspecting his reflection in its flawless curve. Not a single fingerprint marred its pristine surface.

Like her life—polished, perfect, self-satisfied.

Inside the glass, Dowoon’s image gleamed—a prize wine in her collection.

“You,” she murmured, “are something I must have.”

Sara rose slowly, hooking a single finger under his chin.

In that touch lay the memory of their first meeting.

A government-hosted gathering for political and business elites.

Crystal chandeliers, murmured power plays, glittering dresses—a playground for the third- and fourth-generation chaebol heirs.

Monotonous conversation.

Bragging about cars bought with parents’ money.

Gossip about which chairman’s lover was a new Omega.

‘Sara. Come.’

Bored, she had been nursing champagne when her father pulled her aside. Her heels clicked over marble as they approached a knot of elder tycoons orbiting a single young man.

Who is that?

He’s my age.

“Quiet.”

His face was unfamiliar even to her—unusual, given she prided herself on knowing every influential heir. She assumed he was a nouveau-riche anomaly.

Then he turned. Their eyes met.

“Hello. I’m Lee Dowoon.”

Only then did she realize who he was—the eldest son of the Yongseong Group, rarely appearing in public.

Her father whispered:

“Show respect, Sara. He is likely the next head of Yongseong.”

An impeccably carved alpha.

All in black, yet his amber eyes gleamed like jewels in the dark.

Everyone froze—captivated.

So did she.

Father. I’m going to marry Lee Dowoon.

Her father blinked in surprise—then nodded. A strategic choice.

Arrangements began.

Until the news broke:

Lee Dohyun appointed President of Yongseong Electronics. To be groomed as next Group Leader.

Her world collapsed.

She ran to her father.

“Dad!”

“No. Can’t you see? The elder son has been cast aside.”

Their plans disintegrated overnight.

But they met again—after he inherited Yongseong Finance.

At another state function, he appeared transformed—those jewel-bright eyes now hard, venomous.

And again—she could not look away.

He was sharper.

Darker.

Dangerous in a way that made her pulse race.

If anything, she wanted him more.