Chapter 22
Hyukjoon threw his head back and laughed. One arm was slung carelessly around Seoyeon’s shoulders. The other was resting on the table, the stem of a wine glass tight between his fingers.
The couple was sitting inside a quiet, dimly lit bar with a group of friends, and outside, hidden from their view, Dahye watched. Earlier in the night, her phone had vibrated, the tracker notifying her that Hyukjoon’s car had begun moving again, and she had quickly followed him to Cheongdam.
Hyukjoon and Seoyeon’s friends were equally rich and beautiful.
Like Hyukjoon, the two other men sitting at the table were tall and broad-shouldered, well-dressed, their hair meticulously styled.
Each of the three women had a vague resemblance to Seoyeon and held Chanel bags in their laps.
Their fingers and wrists dripped with gold.
Dahye recognized a few of their bracelets—Van Cleef, Cartier.
She remembered the time Eunhye had purchased a fake Cartier bracelet from a little jewelry store in Hongdae.
After a week of wearing it, her wrist had turned green.
Bottles of wine kept appearing at the table and were just as quickly drained and taken away by the servers. When the group was done, Hyukjoon got up to pay, and the group stumbled out. Hiding in the darkness of the alleyway, Dahye eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Congratulations again,” a woman gushed, squeezing Seoyeon tightly. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“It’s going to be the wedding of the century,” one of the men said.
Dahye peered out. Everybody looked happy except Hyukjoon. Nobody else seemed to have noticed, but he was staring at one of the women in the group, his expression almost pained. The woman looked back at him, then looked away. Seoyeon caught the tail end of the exchange, and her face darkened.
Slowly, the crowd faded away until only Seoyeon and Hyukjoon were left. As soon as they were alone, Seoyeon gave him a hard shove. Hyukjoon stumbled off the curb, his cigarette flying from his hand and onto the ground. Embers scattered across the asphalt.
“What the hell was that?” Hyukjoon asked angrily.
“You know what,” Seoyeon snapped. “You were looking at Jia again. I saw you staring. You are such a fucking prick!”
“Stop it, Seoyeon. You’re acting crazy.”
“Crazy?” Seoyeon’s voice climbed several octaves. “You’ve already embarrassed me once. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“We’ve talked about this a thousand times,” Hyukjoon said. “You said you weren’t going to bring it up anymore. I fucking proposed like you demanded. I got on my knees and begged, and you said—”
“Too bad. I changed my mind.” She turned to go, but before she could, Hyukjoon grabbed her wrist. His features were twisted with fury.
“You’re not leaving until I say you can,” he hissed. His nostrils flared as he spoke. Dahye thought Seoyeon would acquiesce, but she wrenched her hand out of Hyukjoon’s grip with a violent jerk and slapped him across the face, the sound ringing through the empty street.
“I leave when I want,” she spat. “Don’t forget. You need me more than I need you.”
With that, she spun around, storming down the street. Hyukjoon watched her go, his jaw clenched. Even from a distance, Dahye could see the imprint of Seoyeon’s hand on his cheek.
“Stupid bitch,” Hyukjoon muttered, loud enough for Dahye to hear.
He fumbled in his pocket for another cigarette as Dahye, still hidden, waited for Seoyeon to return.
The minutes passed. Hyukjoon didn’t seem to care.
He continued to stand there, smoking quietly, his attention focused on his phone, and Dahye saw her chance.
She stepped out from the shadows. With measured uncertainty in her voice, she said, “Oppa? Is that you?”
Hyukjoon looked up. At first, his expression was blank. Then recognition dawned on him. “Dahye?” he asked incredulously.
“Oh my god,” Dahye gushed. “I thought it was you! I’ve missed you so much! When did you get back?”
“Get back?” Hyukjoon looked confused.
“From New York?” Dahye asked, raising an eyebrow. “You told me that, with everything going on, you were going to lay low for a little while.”
“Right, right,” Hyukjoon said hastily. “Sorry, jet lag.” He chuckled. “I got back late last night. I was going to call you, but I didn’t get an opportunity. It’s been busy. You know how it is.” He glanced in the direction Seoyeon had gone.
“I completely understand,” Dahye said sweetly. “I’m just happy to see you.”
“Me too,” Hyukjoon said. He leaned in to hug her, and Dahye fought the revulsion sweeping through her body.
She held her arms limply around him as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
His familiar scent filled her nostrils. It dawned on her then.
He always smelled like money. Closing her eyes, she remembered: All bitches have a price …
She cleared her throat and let the words dissolve into the air. “Did everything turn out okay?” she asked. “With your dad?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. Listen.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“I’m sorry about what happened. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but there have been all kinds of rumors going around since I left.
” He let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s crazy, seeing the stories people come up with. ”
It took every ounce of willpower for Dahye to steady herself. She held his gaze for a moment until she could no longer stand it and broke away, her hands shaking. “Is it not true, then?” she asked, her voice soft.
“What?”
“I saw in the news that you were engaged. It came as a complete shock to me. I thought what we had was … serious.”
“It was serious to me,” Hyukjoon said.
“But?”
“The engagement means nothing. That’s how it is with families like mine.
For us, marriage is strictly business. If I’m being honest, it was arranged back when Seoyeon and I were children, and it was just …
time, I guess.” He swayed as he grabbed Dahye’s hands, kissing them.
She gently tugged herself out of his grip.
“It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. Nothing has changed my feelings for you. ”
She couldn’t believe she had ever fallen for this. His simpering and whining—god, he was so pathetic. She blinked, and the image of Bobby’s body sprawled out on the floor swam hazily in her mind. Hyukjoon put his mouth to Dahye’s ear. “You look good.”
“Do I?”
“You’re my Amanda Seyfried.” He leaned in to kiss her, and Dahye let him despite her disgust. She could taste the alcohol on his breath. “Do you want to get out of here?” he whispered.
He didn’t see her as a threat. He thought she was clueless, stupid, easy to manipulate. He thought she believed every lie that had spilled from his mouth.
All bitches have a price.
“I’d love to,” Dahye said.
“There’s a hotel not far from—”
“We don’t need a hotel,” Dahye interrupted. “I moved out. I have my own place now.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Hyukjoon said, grinning. He reached into his pocket. “Let me call a taxi.”
Dahye stopped him, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “No need. There are plenty of taxis on the street over there.”
“Right,” Hyukjoon said. He wrapped his arm around her, squeezing tightly. “Let’s go.”
+
As soon as they walked through the front door, Hyukjoon abruptly stopped. He cocked his head as he looked around, his eyes wide. He had probably never been in a place like this in his entire life. Besides the air mattress in the bedroom, Dahye hadn’t bothered to get any other furniture.
“What do you think?” Dahye asked, knowing full well that it looked like shit.
“It’s …” Hyukjoon paused. “Charming,” he finally said.
Did he ever stop lying?
“It’s no Park Hyatt,” she said. “I moved in a few days ago. I’m still working on getting more stuff. A TV, couch, that kind of thing.”
He shrugged. They were interrupted by loud drips from the bathroom, and his eyes flickered toward the sound. “Sounds like you have a leaky faucet,” he said.
Dahye excused herself and walked to the bathroom. Eunhye sat in the middle of the floor, her eyes wide and unblinking. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin. She was accompanied by the now-familiar sound of water droplets falling from the vent in the wall onto the floor.
“You brought him,” Eunhye said softly.
“I did,” Dahye whispered.
“Give him what he deserves.”
Dahye nodded gravely.
After placing an old towel under the vent to muffle the noise, she returned to the living room.
Hyukjoon was still standing in the same spot, looking out of place in the shabby little space.
Noticing her, he stepped forward and crushed Dahye against his chest, kissing her hard.
His tongue wormed its way into her mouth. She gagged and pushed him away.
“What?” Hyukjoon asked, frowning. His eyes were narrowed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Yes,” Dahye stammered.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It’s been so long,” Dahye said. “I … I want it to be special. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
Holding hands, they took two long steps to cross the living room, and Hyukjoon peered inside.
“I didn’t think it would be so … empty,” he said, looking at the air mattress on the floor.
The closet door was wide open, and it, too, was bare.
“I’ll have to send you a few things. A real bed, for one.
We’re going to need it if I’m going to fuck you properly. ”
He laughed, oblivious to her disgust, before throwing himself onto the mattress.
It made a hissing noise. “I have to say, I’ve never done it on an air mattress.
Once on a waterbed in New Hampshire when I was a teenager, but never one of these.
” He patted the empty space next to him.
“Come here. Are you playing hard to get?”