Chapter 110
Understanding came slowly. The cold hand gripping my shoulder was unmistakably real.
The recorder in his other hand wasn’t an illusion either, despite the dim light.
I twisted and squirmed out of the embrace, the smug grin on his face evident as ever.
“You…!”
The sheer absurdity left me breathless, and instead of words, a hollow laugh escaped my lips. I shook my head in an attempt to deny the situation, stepping back.
But with each step I took, he drew nearer.
“Yugyeom!”
Calling out his name in a low voice, Yugyeom simply smiled brightly.
“Why are you so worked up?”
He couldn’t possibly be asking out of genuine confusion, right?
Another forced laugh escaped me. Once I calmed down, I found the words to respond.
“Please tell me you didn’t record Lee Chan’s voice just to make me open the door.”
The question hung in the air, unnecessary and absurd, but I had to ask it.
Yugyeom took another slow step forward. Before I could stop him, he strolled past and into the room.
The sound of the door closing was disturbingly loud, an oppressive silence following soon after.
“Correct.”
His voice was low, almost a whisper. In the dim light, his face was pale, illuminated only by the moonlight.
I stiffened, my eyes wide, as Yugyeom’s gaze bore into me, almost soothing in its calm but overwhelming in its intensity.
“You should take responsibility for what you’ve done.”
The smile on his face deepened as he advanced, the familiar scent of sweet wine once again invading my senses.
Unlike before, there was no shaky facade—his steps were steady, his speech clear.
He had abandoned his drunken act entirely now.
“Thanks to you, I nearly earned your dislike.”
He seemed aware of everything—how I was on the verge of resenting him, how Lee Chan exposed his deception, and how he came here after fooling me in the garden.
“And after Lee Chan told you I don’t get drunk?”
I turned away, walking toward the bed where the key lay on the nightstand.
“You manipulated me,” I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest.
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Yugyeom stopped a few steps ahead, his gaze fixed on me as I looked back at him.
“Still,” he said softly, raising his little finger in the same playful gesture as before.
The flickering colors from the stained glass above cast vivid hues across his pale face.
Humans are so easily influenced by sight. I sighed softly, observing his smug expression.
Even without this ridiculous promise, I wouldn’t have been able to push him away. I already regretted sending him away on the terrace earlier.
“I’m not letting you leave this time.”
Yugyeom tilted his head, his dark hair swaying with the motion as he responded wordlessly, his consent an irritating, nonchalant nod.
“But what about your responsibility?”
My eyes traced his recorder, still clutched tightly in his hand.
“You promised not to lie.”
Yugyeom slid the recorder into his shirt pocket with a fluid motion, as if it were second nature.
“Isn’t it a bit ambiguous? I didn’t directly lie to you with my own mouth.”
“Don’t get that petty now.”
“Would I?”
Yugyeom shook his head dismissively, a smirk playing on his lips. He began to approach me slowly, the distance shrinking with each step.
“I promised to let you go.”
The distance that wasn’t significant moments ago was suddenly reduced to almost nothing.
“So, what do you want, our lady?”
His voice was laced with a playful tone. I kept my gaze on the ground, considering his words.
What do I want from you?
“I want to know…”
I lifted my gaze to meet his.
“Why are you afraid of fire?”
His dark eyes held a weight I couldn’t entirely grasp—whether it was from the shadows cast by his long lashes or the depth of emotion they harbored, I couldn’t be certain.
It was confusing. I couldn’t pinpoint the answer.
“I thought I had a right to know, considering I’ve saved you from fire twice.”
In truth, it was three times. The first time I died, only to return through the gates of the world again.
Should I tell him the truth, or carry it to the grave as a secret?
The decision weighed heavily on me for ten days, uncertain of the outcome either way.
Even I sometimes questioned if it was all a dream, but convincing him was no easy task.
And now, Yugyeom seemed more relaxed. Yet, I feared if I spoke, he’d relive that moment, and if I stayed silent, the burden would remain with me forever.
The trauma of fire wasn’t inflicted by Yuhobum or anyone else—it was me. The memory of grabbing the knife from Yugyeom’s hand and stabbing myself still haunted me, leaving a lasting scar that tortured him for so long.
I couldn’t stand seeing Yugyeom suffer any longer.
If only I could understand your heart completely, see everything inside you, and protect you from getting hurt… How I wish I could peer into your mind.
“Doshiyu had something to tell you.”
Yugyeom’s voice broke my thoughts as he continued to speak casually.
“Doshiyu?”
I realized that Yugyeom had sidestepped my question and instead gave a vague response.
The avoidance struck me as odd. I was unsure whether to press further about the fire or let it slide. My thoughts were tangled, unable to move forward.
“I haven’t seen Doshiyu around. What was the message he wanted to convey?”
I shifted my gaze subtly away from Yugyeom’s penetrating stare, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. Direct eye contact made it difficult to think clearly.
As I averted my gaze, my thoughts began to piece together more clearly.
The question about Doshiyu was half genuine. He had killed Kang Taejun to save Baek Hawon.
He must have stopped by Baekcheon. Did he bypass me?
“Not exactly a message—more like a note. It seemed like an address, but it was for some orphanage…”
The mention of an orphanage made my attention snap back to Yugyeom. He held a small note in his hand.
The memory surfaced—a child I met at Doshiyu’s gallery, a child I tried to help but had no voice to speak for. Doshiyu left him at an orphanage under Baekcheon’s jurisdiction.
“It must be an orphanage with Ivy,” I murmured. But…
I reached out toward the note, intending to ask Yugyeom one more time about his memory of that day. If he truly remembered, I wondered if telling him that the child who had died was me would be better left unsaid.
But before I could speak further, Yugyeom raised the note high above his head with an effortless, fluid motion.
Wide-eyed, I stretched toward the note, but my small frame couldn’t reach, even on tiptoes.
“Which do you want to know more?”
Yugyeom teased, waving his hand dismissively.
“… What?”
I blinked slowly, processing what he meant.
“You’ll only get one. You can’t have both.”
His words hit me with a wave of incredulity, and I let out a breathy laugh. It was absurd—choosing one over the other? A note was just a note.
“I didn’t know you were such a petty man.”
Yugyeom grinned down at me smugly, his casual tone making it seem like a playful jest. Still, his expression said more—it was a refusal to answer.
“Give it.”
My voice was calmer now, but firm. I gestured toward the note again, and Yugyeom smiled softly. He lowered his hand.
However, before the note could fully fall into my grasp, his fingers grazed mine gently, a brief touch that felt deliberate.
I seized his hand with force, pulling him toward me. His body leaned slightly into mine as though the world tilted with the motion.
His wide, surprised eyes locked onto mine amidst the sensation of imbalance.
“I told you.”
I gripped his black tie with my other hand, pulling him even closer. His face was suddenly inches from mine.
“If you really don’t want to lose me,”
“….”
“Don’t try to kneel me at your feet.”
I withdrew the recorder from his shirt pocket with a firm grip.
“This is the last time.”
Smiling, I shook the recorder in my hand, then finally released Yugyeom’s tie.
Still, it felt as though neither of us was ready to talk about fire.
The memory of the moment when Yugyeom died instead of Baek Hawon flashed vividly in my mind.
A fleeting sensation of softness and warmth overtook me as the sound of soft laughter echoed above. Yugyeom chuckled lightly, straightening up from his earlier bow. His hand, still cool, gently held mine as he entwined his fingers with mine once more.
“I thought you wouldn’t believe if I gave you this.”
He still didn’t release his grip on my hand, holding the note securely as if keeping it away would create a deeper connection.
“It’s a bit too late for that kind of talk now.”
I attempted to pull my hand away, but his icy fingers tightened around mine.
“Just wanted to see you.”
I paused, facing him. His face, bathed in the dim light, seemed both hazy and sharp at once.
“Maybe I thought I was still dreaming.”
“….”
“So, I came.”
But the feeling of him as a mere mirage was fleeting.
His gaze softened into something mesmerizing—a moment where it felt like he wasn’t just standing there, but actively drawing me in.
“Let’s go together.”
Yugyeom’s words were clear, his eyes locking onto mine. I traced the note in my hand with my fingers, feeling its texture.
“I think then, it’ll feel real. You being here with me.”
Yugyeom’s eyes flickered with a mischievous glint as his long fingers lightly tickled the back of my hand. The gentle touch sent shivers up my spine.
“Come with me, won’t you?”
His gaze deepened, pulling me in. I couldn’t resist as his intensity swept over me.
“Then… okay.”
My voice wavered, but it was enough to yield.
I reluctantly acknowledged my defeat, nodding and resigning myself. There was no way out now.
“Come with me. So back off a bit!”
Yelling loudly, I shook off Yugyeom’s hand, causing him to finally step away.
Exhaustion swept over me as I glared at him, gesturing toward the door with a nod of my head.
Yugyeom smiled softly, clearly satisfied with the situation.
“Now go. Sleep well, and don’t come back.”
I trudged over to the bed, sitting down heavily. Yugyeom followed with his gaze, but it eventually shifted elsewhere—toward the key resting on the bedside table.
He turned his head to look at the stained glass, his eyes brushing lightly over the hidden door in the floor below.
“It’s the room that the Boss of Baek Cheon created for his wife.”
When Yugyeom finally turned back to face me, I was left staring at him with a stiff expression.
“It used to be the Boss’s mother’s room.”
