SACCHARIN
CHAPTER 2

 

At first, I was too terrified, sniffling and staring at my toes, to even notice someone approaching. But as soon as I heard the deep, low voice, my head snapped up instinctively.

“……”

As I lifted my chin, the man’s gaze slowly lowered to meet mine. Standing before me, he was staring down at me with an unyielding intensity.

I looked up at him, unable to tear my eyes away. This was the man whose voice had echoed in my ears as the driver’s side window shattered during the staged accident.

“Hold out your hands.”

Anger surged within me, but I obeyed for now. Rising from the sofa, I extended my cuffed hands toward him. I assumed he had the key to the handcuffs, but I was wrong.

“Chief, here.”

When he tilted his head slightly to the side, the bob-haired woman approached and handed him a small metal key from her pocket. She had called him Chief. Judging by that, he was probably ranked below my father, at least formally.

“If you want to live, don’t try anything stupid.”

“…Understood.”

The handcuffs were simple—no complicated passcode, just a basic mechanism that locked and unlocked. Within a few seconds, my wrists were free.

Yet during those two or three seconds, as he worked on unlocking the cuffs, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. There was something about him—his aura, his presence—that made it impossible to look away.

I needed to get a good look at the man who had dragged me here, to figure out exactly what kind of person I was dealing with.

“…….”

But my bold resolve faltered the moment I began. I had to crane my neck just to meet his gaze—he was that tall. At least 185 centimeters, maybe over 190.

Even accounting for the black trench coat draped over his suit, his natural build was broad and solid. The kind of physique that gave off an imposing aura, as if a single flick of his hand could send someone like me flying. And yet, his presence wasn’t heavy or clumsy.

It was his face—a peculiar blend of refinement and cold detachment. He looked like someone who might have grown up in a wealthy household, studying diligently his entire life, with a fair and clear complexion to match.

A sharply defined jawline, a prominent, masculine nose, and a firm, balanced face structure— it was undeniably attractive. His neatly combed black hair, strong brows, and full lips only added to the impression of a strikingly handsome man.

But there was a stark contrast to his otherwise composed appearance: his dark, icy eyes. They weren’t overtly sharp or aggressive, but the chill in his gaze, framed by soft, calm lines, felt piercing. His face exuded a masculine elegance and sophistication, yet the look in his eyes stirred fear rather than admiration.

With his expression as blank as it was now, he didn’t just feel cold—he was outright intimidating.

He must have noticed me studying him, my curiosity and lingering anger evident in my eyes. Sliding the handcuffs into the pocket of his trench coat, he lifted one corner of his mouth into a faint smirk.

It was a look that seemed to say, I know exactly what you’re thinking.

As if asking have you seen enough?, he locked his gaze on mine. I couldn’t help but lower my eyes. I wanted to confront him, to show my anger, but the fear he evoked was overpowering.

Then my gaze fell on his dress shirt. The first button was undone, and I found it odd that he wasn’t wearing a tie. Just as I was wondering about it, my question was answered.

“Have you seen enough?”

“…Pardon?”

The man’s large hand suddenly reached toward me, and for a moment, I panicked, thinking he was going to strangle me. My heart jumped, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

When his cold fingertips brushed against my neck, I cautiously opened my eyes.

He was untying the tie that had been hung around my neck, the one previously used as a gag. His movements were precise and emotionless, almost mechanical, as he easily freed the tie from my neck.

But what he did next caught me completely off guard.

The man slipped the tie around his own neck, moving deliberately, as if to make a show of it. With fluid motions, he buttoned the top of his shirt with one hand, grabbed both ends of the tie, and began tying it. He stared at me intently, as if my face were a mirror, using it to adjust the knot.

There was something unsettlingly intimate about the gesture.

Tying a tie wasn’t inherently strange, but in this context, it felt like a scene you’d only witness between people who were close. Or perhaps it was his long, slender fingers that seemed strangely… distracting. Caught off guard, I found myself unsure where to look, my expression betraying my discomfort.

“Uncomfortable, wasn’t it? Having to hold it in your mouth?”

“…What? What do you mean?”

“The tie. My tie. You were holding it in your mouth.”

“Of course it was uncomfortable! Do you know how much my jaw hurt?”

His expression didn’t waver in the slightest. He acted as if everything he’d done was entirely reasonable, with an almost shameless nonchalance.

His audacity left me fuming, and I couldn’t help but snap back. Inside, I was cycling through every insult and curse imaginable, wanting to unleash them all at him. But I knew better than to let my thoughts turn into words.

Still, the idea of staying silent, swallowing my anger, was unbearable. It burned in my chest, threatening to consume me.

With my now-freed hands hanging limply at my sides, my fingers twitched nervously. After hesitating for what felt like an eternity, I finally mustered enough courage to speak in a small, timid voice.

“…But, um, why do you keep talking down to me? We’ve just met.”

“We met earlier, didn’t we?”

“That’s not what I mean. When did we meet?”

“Are you seriously asking because you don’t know?”

He seemed amused by my mix of hesitation and defiance, his lips curling into a soft smile. Then, he mouthed a word silently—but it was clear as day: Bang.

The instant I registered the word, the anger I had tried so hard to suppress surged back with full force.

“So, it was you. You’re the one who hit my car.”

“I made sure to control it so Miss Seo Wan wouldn’t get hurt.”

“…What?”

“I mean, I was really careful.”

This son of a—

I wanted to slap him across the face, but I lacked the courage. Instead, I clenched my jaw and glared at him, trying to burn a hole through him with my eyes.

But then—

“Maybe I should’ve hit harder. Left you bedridden for a few months.”

“……”

“Still… you’ve got some fight in you, even in this situation. A bit of a temper, huh?”

“You bas—”

“That’s enough.”

He raised a finger to his lips, signaling me to shut up. His disinterest in hearing anything further was unmistakable.

How could I even respond to someone who talked about ramming into my car like it was some kind of game? I didn’t even want to imagine what had gone through his mind while cuffing and gagging me.

I realized then—I was nothing more than a target, a tool for whatever purpose he had. Hoping for even the barest shred of respect or decency as a hostage felt laughable.

Dad… if you’re still alive, please come and get me. Save me… and destroy every single one of them.

My eyes, already stinging from crying so much, welled up again with heat. I forced myself to swallow the tears and slowly sat back down on the sofa. After all, he was the one who had stood me up just to remove the handcuffs—so all I had to do now was wait quietly for the chairman to arrive.

But no matter how hard I tried, the overwhelming injustice of it all left me at a loss. I felt like I was losing my mind, and the worst part was that no one seemed likely to believe in my innocence.

What on earth had Dad done to drag me into this nightmare? If he had planned to take me and flee abroad, why hadn’t he come up with a better plan? How could he betray these people so sloppily, leaving me to endure this humiliation and danger?

The unthinkable suspicion that Dad might have used me as bait to save himself began creeping into my thoughts. My mind replayed the times he had suspiciously pressured me to agree to a matchmaking meeting.

“Don’t just say no outright. Meet them once. If they don’t seem bad, maybe go on a few dates…”

What do I do now?

If even Dad had abandoned me, there wasn’t a soul in this world left to save me. Head bowed in despair, I used my fingers to repeatedly wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

…Huh?

Though my head was still lowered, something in my peripheral vision caught my attention—a man’s hand. It belonged to the person who had been speaking to me coldly just moments ago, the one they called Chief.

“……”

Where had he gotten it? Or maybe he had it stored somewhere all along.

At my feet was a pair of sneakers—my sneakers.

It was the same man who had clearly disliked bending down enough to make me stand just to remove the cuffs, yet now he had personally brought my shoes and placed them in front of me.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

We weren’t on some dirt floor—we were inside a hotel. Besides, I wasn’t barefoot; I was wearing socks. There was no real need for me to put on shoes.

Was he trying to distract me from crying because he didn’t want to see it? Or was there another reason behind this gesture?

After a moment’s hesitation, I carefully slipped my feet into the sneakers. If they planned to drag me somewhere else, it was better to have shoes on.

Once I had them on, I lifted my head and glanced around the room. Now that I was wearing shoes, a small, reckless thought crossed my mind—what if I tried to escape at the first chance?

But…

Damn it.

The man called Chief wasn’t taking his eyes off me. He even gave me a short nod, as if to silently warn me not to try anything foolish.

The idea of escape quickly faded from my mind.

“…The chairman has just arrived.”

The bob-haired woman approached him after glancing at her phone screen. In a low voice, she spoke to him quietly, but I could catch bits of their conversation.

It meant one thing: the time for my fate to be decided was drawing near.

With a long sigh, I closed my eyes. Everything that had happened in the past few hours felt like a dream—but no matter how I looked at it, this was a nightmare turned reality.

I began retracing the events that had led to this hellish moment. Yes, it must have all started this evening—or was it last evening? Whatever the case, that was the moment my life began to unravel.

And it was all because of Dad.