SACCHARIN
CHAPTER 10

 

I felt stifled and furious. The frustration boiled over, and soon I found myself despising my father—resenting him for letting things spiral into this nightmare.

Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t stop wondering if he was even alive. I hated my indecision, my inability to lean one way or the other, but what could I do? He was still my father, after all.

I eventually stopped clawing at the carpet. Denying reality had been futile, and now that I had grudgingly accepted it, a wave of indescribable helplessness settled over me. But then—

…What the hell?

A hand suddenly appeared in my field of vision. It was unmistakably a man’s hand—large, with pronounced veins running along its surface, and outstretched as if offering a handshake.

I remained seated, staring at the floor. It wasn’t that I was trying to ignore him; I was simply too drained, both emotionally and physically, to respond. It felt as though I had cried every tear I’d ever have in this lifetime, leaving me completely hollow.

“I can’t wait forever. Snap out of it and get up,” said a voice above me, firm and unyielding.

I hadn’t been sitting there in a daze for that long—or so I thought. But it seemed my sense of time and his were completely out of sync. Glancing at his left wrist to check the time, the man spoke again, his tone sharp with warning.

“Going to the factory is better than dying here.”

Or maybe he was just cold-blooded.

“…Maybe if I hadn’t listened to you, I’d have a better option right now. Instead, I’m being dragged to hell,” I muttered bitterly.

“Well, that’s possible,” he replied, his indifference stoking the flames of my anger.

I wanted to scream at him, to yell, “What the hell are you even talking about?” But I held back. In a situation where I had no power and my choices were limited to the worst possible options, I had to pick the least terrible one. If avoiding the absolute worst meant settling for the next-worst, then so be it.

With my father’s fate uncertain and my own abduction imminent, I couldn’t afford to be picky. I needed a lifeline—any lifeline. Even if it was a rotten one.

I had no intention of dying a pointless death here. Steeling myself, I decided to stop stalling and lifted my head.

“Keep this in mind,” he said coldly. “If you keep wasting time and piss off the chairman any further, forget the factory—you could die here and now.”

“…Yes,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly.

“I don’t want to deal with a corpse cleanup, so get up. Now.”

“……”

“Hurry.”

He extended his hand again, clearly expecting me to take it and rise. As the chaotic swirl of my thoughts slowly settled, I became more aware of my surroundings.

The two people who had been working with Shin Chi-woo—the short-haired woman and the large man—had already stepped outside. That left only Shin Chi-woo and me in the hotel room. Alone.

It felt like an entirely different kind of warning signal.

I ignored his outstretched hand. Feigning a dry cough, I slowly stood up on my own. I wasn’t injured, so I didn’t need his help. Besides, it felt critical to avoid any unnecessary contact with him—no matter how small.

With deliberate movements, I planted my hands on the carpet to push myself up, refusing to acknowledge the hand he was offering. As I stood, I exaggeratedly wiped at my left ear with my left hand, making it clear that I found his earlier action of licking my ear revolting and disgusting.

But I must have been kneeling for too long. My legs were completely numb, as if they had been overtaken by pins and needles. It was no surprise—after all, this was the first time in my life I had knelt before anyone.

My body wavered, struggling to keep balance. It felt like I was on the verge of collapsing, perhaps from orthostatic hypotension.

“…Ah!”

My knee buckled, and my torso lurched sideways. Before I could hit the ground, Shin Chi-woo grabbed my arm, steadying me in time to prevent the fall.

“Keep yourself together,” he said, his voice firm.

“I’m… I’m trying… I am…” I mumbled, flustered.

While I was grateful that he had stopped me from falling, gratitude didn’t erase my distrust. Annoyed, I twisted my shoulder to signal for him to let go of my arm.

He let go with a mocking smirk, as though amused by my obvious distrust and discomfort.

But then—

“Ah…! What are you doing?” I exclaimed.

“Give up any thoughts of running away,” he said firmly.

“I wasn’t planning to, so let go of me!” I snapped.

“If you don’t like this, you’ll have to ride in the car with a leash instead.”

“Hey, let go of me… I said let go!”

Without hesitation, the man grabbed my wrist with his large hand. Click! Handcuffs were once again fastened around both my wrists.

I struggled, putting all my strength into freeing my hands, but it was futile. I knew full well what was happening: I was being detained and threatened, just moments away from being taken to who-knows-where.

I understood why Shin Chi-woo felt the need to restrain me; if I attempted to escape, it would complicate things for him. But the truth was, I wasn’t planning to run, nor did I have the ability to do so. I was all talk, with no real chance of making a successful escape.

Still, this was the same man who had no qualms about ramming his car into someone. If he decided to, he could harm me right here and now without even involving the chairman. He could easily do worse than licking my ear like he had earlier.

“Fine, I’ll cooperate. Just take off the handcuffs—they’re too tight, and they hurt,” I said, trying to sound as compliant as possible.

“And why should I believe that?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“I swear, I won’t try to run. Please, just trust me this once,” I pleaded.

“How about this, then? We’ll go like this—nicely, together,” he said, his tone suddenly lighter.

His hand moved past the handcuffs, down to my wrist. Then, without warning, his long, strong fingers slipped between my fingers, interlocking loosely with mine. He held my hand.

“…I’d prefer this over the handcuffs,” I muttered reluctantly.

“Really?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Yes.”

“You sure it’s not because you just want to hold my hand?”

“Absolutely not,” I shot back, glaring at him.

“Then what do you think the chairman would say if he saw the two of us being so… friendly?” he teased, though his grip on my hand remained light and unthreatening.

The contact wasn’t intimate—just a simple, practical hold—but his teasing tone made it impossible to ignore.

“We both know I have my position to maintain… and my preferences,” he added with a smirk.

“Oh, really? And what exactly are your position and preferences?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm, though my curiosity couldn’t help but peek through.

As soon as he finished speaking, Shin Chi-woo mimicked wiping his mouth with exaggerated disgust. It was clear he, too, found the act of licking my ear unpleasant and distasteful.

“It wasn’t just you who felt grossed out!” I snapped.

“Why, should I do it again to shut you up?” he teased, flashing a mischievous grin.

Just then, I heard faint movements outside the door, and the unexpected sound startled me. Panicking, I instinctively lowered my voice.

“Be quiet…! What if someone hears us?”

“Should I make it loud enough for them to hear?” he retorted, smirking.

“You… you…!” I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my voice down.

It dawned on me that his crass behavior was intentional—a deliberate act to provide me with a hint. But even as his words grated on my nerves, his actions told a different story. Without saying a word, he let go of my hand, the abruptness of it bordering on rude.

“You should be thankful you’re still alive,” he said flatly.

“Why are you helping me, then? No—are you even helping me?” I pressed.

“Birthday gift.”

What on earth was he talking about? I wished he would just give me a straight answer so I could figure out how to deal with him. His ambiguous attitude made it impossible to trust him.

“Stop saying nonsense.”

“Fine. I helped you because you’re pretty. Does that make sense to you?”

“Please, stop twisting your words! What are you even trying to say? This is driving me crazy!”

“You’re the one who needs to shut up, Seo Wan-yi,” he shot back, his tone sharp.

He furrowed his brow slightly and gestured with his eyes, signaling for me to stay quiet. The intensity of his expression made me wonder—was there a hidden microphone in this room, in addition to the CCTV cameras?

Swallowing my frustration, I decided to follow his lead and stay silent. Had I already said something I shouldn’t have?

Even so, I couldn’t help but marvel at his ability to say the same things in a way that felt like sharp blades aimed directly at me. But then again, what manners could I expect from a man who behaved like a thug?

As I silently cursed him with the foulest words I could think of, Shin Chi-woo grabbed the connecting chain of the handcuffs around my wrists and tugged, urging me toward the door.

“……”

Finally, we exited the room, and I found myself standing in front of the elevator. His strides were so long that I was practically being dragged along, struggling to keep up. Even now, as we waited for the elevator, I stood about half a step behind him.

Standing at a slight angle, I lifted my gaze to look at the back of his head. For a moment, I noticed that the hallway was empty—just the two of us.

If only my hands were free, I thought, I’d grab something heavy and smack him across the head. My eyes darted around, scanning the hallway for anything useful—a fire extinguisher, perhaps? Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

The plan solidified in my mind: I’d find a way to escape and run straight to the police. I’d tell them about the drugs hidden inside the stuffed bear and how I was being kidnapped and held against my will. I’d demand an investigation into my father and Chairman Pyeon Jae-ho’s involvement in the whole operation.

I resolved to make my move as soon as we reached the parking lot or the ground floor.

“Reporting this to the police won’t do you any good,” he said suddenly.

“What are you talking about?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

“I think I read you pretty well just now. You were seriously planning to report this to the police, weren’t you?”

“…No, I wasn’t,” I lied, trying to sound convincing.

“This one really has no fear, huh,” he muttered, exhaling a long, exasperated sigh.

He looked down at me from the corner of his eye, his expression a mix of amusement and disdain. His gaze seemed to say, You seriously trust the police? The implication was clear: even the police were in on this.

If that was true, my plan to seek help from law enforcement was useless. I clenched my fists in frustration, my hope slipping further away.

 

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆

☕ Hi, friends! Your support means the world to me. If you’d like, you can buy me a coffee here: Click the link on the image! 💖

Thank you for keeping me inspired! 🌸

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆