Divorce Contract C137

Chapter 137

Seo Dohyeon cleared his afternoon schedule and met with the head of the loan company that had lent money to Go Daesik.

The man greeted him with an insolent swagger, his posture loose and arrogant. Every word that rolled from his thick lips reeked of vulgarity, and the glinting gold on his fingers and neck only added to his crudeness. He occasionally pushed up his sleeve for no reason at all, as if eager to show off.

“I’m not the type to care where the money comes from, as long as it lands in my hands,” the man said, grinning. “So tell me, are you planning to pay it all at once, boss?”

Finding Seo Dohyeon’s calm, upright demeanor irritatingly young, the man dropped the honorifics entirely.

Dohyeon merely traced the rim of his teacup with one finger, not lifting it, his lips curling faintly.

“Well,” he said, his tone casual but cold, “that depends on your answer. What I want is simple — I don’t ever want to see Go Daesik, Kang Mijin, Go Heeju, or Go Minjun anywhere near my family again.”

The man’s eyes gleamed. He chuckled loudly, leaning forward. Running a hand over his buzzed hair, he bared his teeth in a smirk.

“I’m not in the habit of losing money, you see. Why don’t we talk about the payment first—”

“No,” Dohyeon interrupted. “You’ll start by telling me how you plan to keep those four tied down. You’ve been in business long enough to know the order of things.”

The mention of money didn’t fluster Dohyeon; he smiled, calm and deliberate. But the man — who had thought him an easy mark because of his youth — began to grow uneasy. He realized that if he didn’t give the right answer, this lucrative deal might evaporate.

After an awkward pause, he gave a forced laugh and slapped the table lightly.

“As it happens,” he said, “I’ve got a few factories running short on hands. Could send Kang Mijin and Go Heeju there. Go Daesik’s older, but there’s always a need for menial laborers, so I’ll find a place for him. As for the boy — Minjun, was it? He looks weak, but I could train him up for debt collection. That ought to do it, right?

“My men will handle them personally. Once they’re under my management, there won’t be any chance of escape — by land or sky. They won’t be showing up near your house ever again.

“And considering how big the debt is, they’ll be working it off for the rest of their lives anyway. That answer your question?”

The man lowered his tone, trying to sound agreeable.

Dohyeon set his cup down, folding his hands on the table before meeting his gaze.

“Not bad,” he said evenly. “Frankly, I don’t care what you do with them. As long as they never appear in front of my family again, you’ll get what you want. I’ll pay off Go Daesik’s remaining debt in full, in one sum. And this—” he smiled thinly, “—stays between you and me.”

The man burst out laughing, delighted.

So, that was it. In exchange for a generous payout, he was to keep Go Daesik leashed — indefinitely.

He nodded eagerly and reached for his bag. “Then let’s draw up a new agreement.”

As he rummaged through his papers, the door opened and an older man entered the room.

The loan shark’s expression soured immediately.

“Who’s this?” he snapped.

“My lawyer,” Dohyeon replied coolly. “You don’t think I’d sign a contract written by you, do you, Mr. Park Chunho?”

Park blinked at him, then gave a grudging laugh. “Fair enough,” he said. He sat back, watching as the lawyer laid out neatly prepared documents on the table.

When Park produced Go Daesik’s promissory note, the lawyer went over it meticulously, then began filling in the repayment clauses and special provisions.

Special Clauses

Clause 1. Seo Dohyeon (Party A) shall repay Go Daesik’s debt in full. This arrangement will remain undisclosed to the debtor, and both parties are bound to confidentiality.

Clause 2. Park Chunho (Party B) shall ensure that Kang Mijin, Go Heeju, and Go Minjun — co-signers of the loan — continue to repay the debt faithfully, under methods determined by Party B.

Clause 3. Seo Dohyeon (Party A) shall bear no liability in the event of death, permanent disability, or bodily harm occurring during said repayment.

Clause 4. Should Go Daesik, Kang Mijin, Go Heeju, or Go Minjun appear before Seo Dohyeon or any member of his family, Park Chunho (Party B) shall immediately pay a penalty fee of three billion won to Seo Dohyeon (Party A).

Clause 5. The contents of this agreement are strictly confidential. Any breach will result in an immediate penalty payment of three billion won.

When the lawyer finished writing, Park’s jaw dropped.

“This is excessive! Three billion won?!”

“I’m not a philanthropist,” Dohyeon said coolly. “I’m clearing his debts entirely — surely I can expect this much in return. Unless…” his eyes narrowed, “you plan on letting them go later?”

“N-no, of course not… Fine. Fine! If that’s what it takes, I’ll keep them close.”

“If even one clause is broken,” Dohyeon said softly, “I’ll collect every won stated here. Understood?”

Park swallowed, rubbing the corner of his mouth before nodding.

Once both signatures were in place, the lawyer gathered the documents and excused himself.

Park lingered, watching Dohyeon rise. He slurped the last of his tea and stood as well, extending a hand.

Dohyeon looked down at it — calloused, rough, thick with the dirt of labor — and made no move to take it.

Park awkwardly withdrew his hand, muttering to himself that the young bastard was intolerably arrogant.

“I suppose we won’t be seeing each other again, then,” Park said.

“I don’t imagine so,” Dohyeon replied.

“The notarized copies will come through your lawyer.”

Without another word, Dohyeon turned and left the room.

Outside, Secretary Yoon Jaeseon was waiting. He fell into step immediately.

“Vice Director, shall I take you home?”

“Yes. I’m tired.”

Yoon nodded, quickening his pace to open the backseat door. Once Dohyeon was inside, he shut it and got behind the wheel.

The sky was heavy, the air dim — it looked as if it might snow. They’d have to hurry; traffic near the city’s edge would soon worsen.

“Have you confirmed the locations of the three?”

“Yes, sir. Kang Mijin is still at the restaurant where she works. Go Heeju and Go Minjun have returned home and haven’t left since.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes. There’s only one exit, and the windows are barred. They couldn’t get out without tearing them apart.”

Dohyeon pressed his fingers against his brow as he listened. The thought that in a few days he’d be rid of everyone claiming to be Go Igyeol’s family should have been satisfying — and it was, in a way — but his body felt off.

The headache that had been haunting him for days throbbed behind his eyes.

Yoon glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

“Is it bad, sir?”

“I can manage.”

“Are you taking your medication?”

“I am. It’s just not working.”

Go Igyeol’s pheromones had stabilized since childbirth; his heat cycles hadn’t resurfaced. Dohyeon, however, wasn’t so fortunate. His Alpha biology — dominant, unyielding — followed a strict rut cycle.

It had been nearly a month since he’d last received Igyeol’s scent.

“Maybe… it’s best if you’re hospitalized during the next cycle,” Yoon said cautiously.

“Probably,” Dohyeon murmured. “But I can’t stand the thought of losing that time. Every hour feels too precious now. I don’t want to be away from Go Igyeol.”

There was a metallic edge to his voice — resignation wrapped in longing. Yoon opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Dohyeon leaned back against the headrest, eyes closing.

“Wake me when we arrive.”

“Yes, sir.”

The drive continued in silence.

Flurries of snow began to fall, faint and aimless. The sky hung low, the world turning a somber shade of gray.

Go Heeju spotted a long shadow stretching along the wall beside their front gate as she returned from her morning shift.

No person, just the shadow — unnaturally still.

Unease prickled up her spine.

She hurried down the damp steps to the basement flat, where the smell of mold and stale air lingered. When she pushed open the door, Go Minjun looked up from his instant noodles.

“You’re back?”

“Did you see anyone strange outside?”

“Strange? No. Why?”

The spoon froze halfway to his lips. The seriousness on her face drained the color from his.

“Something feels wrong,” she said quietly. “We need to get out.”

“Get out? Go where?”

Heeju’s gaze darted toward the door. Maybe she was wrong. But if someone was watching them… they’d be caught before they ever reached Igyeol.

Loan sharks often came to the house to harass them, but they’d never felt the need to hide — until now.

If Seo Dohyeon had discovered their plan, he would’ve already made his move.

The hope they’d clung to — that all their troubles would soon end — dissolved in an instant. The future that stretched ahead looked far worse.

The debt collectors might not have threatened them before, but that could change any moment now.

Lost in her thoughts, Heeju began pacing in circles, biting her nails. Minjun grabbed her arm.

“Hey. What do we do?”

“I’m thinking.”

Her mind raced. The front door was out of the question — the moment they opened it, they’d be seen. The only other way out was through the half-sized window near the floor, but it was barred with thick iron rods. They had no tools to cut them, and even if they did, the noise would give them away.

She gnawed at her lip, desperate — and then it hit her.

“The bathroom.”

“What?”

“The bathroom window faces the alley. It’s opposite the front door — it leads outside.”

“Jesus, don’t say it like that, you scared me!”

“Have you ever seen anyone strange hanging around before?” she whispered sharply. “No, right? Which means they just found us. Seo Dohyeon knows. He knows we were there. He knows we’ve been trying to find Igyeol. We can’t stay here.”

She didn’t know how she knew — but she was certain.

Now was the time to move.

Now, before it was too late.

It was time to go find Go Igyeol.