TCBW C29

Chapter 29

As Dowoon finally broke eye contact without having gained anything of substance, and the small click of utensils being lifted rang out like a signal of capitulation, he pulled his own gaze from Chairman Lee.

But the chairman had not retreated.

“Now it’s my turn to ask,”

he said, tone unhurried — though the pointed edge beneath it was as sharp as a spear tip.

“Do you like the aegbaji?”

It was, of course, a low‑grade question well within the bounds of what Dowoon had expected. He shot back at once:

“I don’t understand the reason for the question. Would my feelings be a variable in our deal?”

A strange light flickered in the chairman’s eyes.

“…Of course they could.”

Looking directly at him, it seemed clear he was not asking from mere personal curiosity.

“You’ve heard, I’m sure, that the dragon wants the most precious thing the Lee clan possesses. So whether you like him is a very important issue. Go on, tell me — what’s your impression?”

Dowoon could not tell why he was hounding him over something so trivial, as though laying a trap.

“Who’s to say…”

“Isn’t he at least pretty, or somewhat to your taste?”

That blatant fishing for his personal sentiments did not sit well. His gaze chilled over, and after a pause in which he regarded the chairman as if studying him, he jabbed from a completely different angle:

“…Do you know much about dragons, sir?”

“What?”

“You seem so certain the dragon can read human hearts — that’s why you’re pressing about my feelings?”

The unexpected counterattack made the chairman’s expression harden.

“Ah, and come to think of it, you seem to know a lot about the curse as well. Then let me ask you: what are the activation conditions for it?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Gye‑geum told me to ask you about the curse — and it does seem you know quite a bit.”

“…Then she’s mistaken. I don’t know that myself.”

“So it’s not that you simply don’t want to tell me?”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

He tried to use authority to paper over the credibility of his answer, but Dowoon did not flinch.

“I’m saying your account doesn’t match hers. Between you and Gye‑geum.”

His eyes were cold, interrogative. After a moment, the seasoned old man stepped back from the push.

He took a breath, and shed the relentless tone.

“Then there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t actually know about the dragon or the curse in detail. What I’ve told you till now is all I know.”

As if redrawing the board, he put on the face of a kindly adviser, laying out a snare he thought Dowoon couldn’t resist stepping into:

“Naturally, I’ve no idea if dragons can read your mind either.”

Mask calm.

“But tell me — wouldn’t the dragon know you held a wedding, and that you’ve been seen keeping company with Saeman’s youngest daughter?”

A deftly tied double‑trap: whatever answer, the snare would spring shut.

The chairman even smiled, believing he had glimpsed what his counterpart was defensive about, and that this would let him pry him open.

He hadn’t reckoned on Dowoon being the sort of man who, if need be, would stomp straight down on a trap to smash it.

“I’m considering marriage.”

“…Marriage? To Han Sara?”

The chairman started in visible surprise — and he wasn’t the only one.

Hae-eon, standing nearby, was equally shaken; the open mention of “marriage” in reply was bolder than either had imagined.

Trying not to show it, the older man pitched his voice up with feigned interest.

“Marriage… good. But remember, it’s your duty as a husband to get the aegbaji pregnant first.”

Tilting his head slightly, Dowoon’s reply was low and hard:

“Wasn’t it you who told me to treat the child‑bearer as nothing more than an aegbaji, a concubine?”

“…I meant only that there’s no harm in keeping close to someone you’ve already brought in.”

Watching him squirm out an excuse, Dowoon spoke slowly, deliberately:

“To think I’d live to hear your personal counsel, Father… I’d never have imagined. But I’ll decline needless meddling.”

“M‑meddling?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, this matter is already under my jurisdiction.”

He let the words hang a beat, letting the insult be digested, then:

“How I show you my ‘jurisdiction’ and my ‘sense of duty’ is for me to decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He left without waiting for any reply, bowing perfunctorily before heading out.

The specific timing differences in how the curse manifested in each victim remained a mystery, but since it had begun in him, the question was meaningless anyway. And he now understood that the chairman would answer none of his other questions.

His leaving was simply because there was nothing more to extract.

Hae-eon hurried after him. The silence in the car held until the engine was running; then, at last, he broke it.

“Were you serious… sir?”

Glancing at his watch, Dowoon answered in a tone that said the personal talk was over:

“We’ll be late for the meeting. Drive.”

“President, please — an answer…”

At the pressing, he added, reluctantly:

“At least it wasn’t a lie. And even now, after receiving the stock transfer, I don’t trust the chairman.”

“But—”

“Secretary Choi.”

“Sir?”

“Evaluating my decisions isn’t part of your job description, is it?”

Faced with that, Hae-eon clamped his mouth shut. The tone allowed no further dissent.

Once Dowoon’s presence had vanished down the corridor—

Bang.

The chairman’s fist slammed down on the dining table. The meticulously laid feast spilled to the floor with the shattered porcelain.

Only the sound of his harsh breathing filled the wreckage, the vessels and food scattered together. Broken capillaries reddened his eyes as he trembled with clenched fists.

“Lee Dowoon… that insolent—!”

There was nothing of fatherly affection in the voice, only venom.

Suhoe tilted his head in bafflement.

“Work?”

“Yes. The president told me to help find you something to do.”

Hearing this, along with the news that Dowoon would be away on a business trip and absent from the Balhwa‑dong house for some time, Suhoe furrowed his brow in confusion.

After all, while they had indeed made a wager the other day, it was undeniable that Dowoon had won.

He had driven Suhoe until he passed out; Suhoe had utterly failed to bring him to climax on his own.

“Why… why would he permit it?”

“Who knows. I just follow instructions.”

Hae-eon was just as puzzled.

‘Work? For Madam?’

‘Something suitable — but difficult enough he’s likely to quit.’

From the moment last night when, before leaving for his overseas trip, Dowoon had told him to find Suhoe something to keep him occupied, Hae-eon had been wondering what had passed between them.

Easy enough for the president to say, but the truth was that Suhoe had no formal schooling and had grown up in a remote mountain shrine — a twenty‑year‑old omega with countless barriers to employment.

Not that it was impossible.

Whatever his background as an aegbaji, he’d married into the household of the CEO of a corporation.

Within Yongseong Finance, it would be no trouble to find him an appropriate post.

So Hae-eon compiled a list: clean, stable jobs he thought might suit Suhoe. Before long he laid it out before him:

“Document filing and data management, office supply support, executive secretary team assistance…”

But Suhoe, after scanning the list briefly, didn’t choose a single one.

At his lukewarm reaction, it was Hae-eon who spoke first.

“Having trouble deciding?”

“Ah, it’s just… you said I could learn on the job, but…”

Choosing his words, his eyes seemed to look far beyond the room.

“What I was picturing was something more physical. Like what Mr. Kim does.”

Hae-eon wondered if he’d heard right.

“You mean you think cleaning or cooking would suit you?”

“Not cooking, but I think I could manage cleaning.”

Good heavens. If he got him that kind of work, there would be no chance of hearing a kind word from Dowoon.