"Do I look like a pushover? K*ll me, go on. I'm saying, k*ll me."

"Cough, cough!"

The voice, distorted by a modulator, sent a shiver down her spine.

And yet it sounded disturbingly familiar...

"You b*stard! I won't let you get away with this! I'll st*b you with a knife, throw you in a pit of filth and scatter your ashes... I'll make you disappear!"

What the...?

That's my modulated voice!

Her face went pale. Some of it was clearly the perpetrator's words, but most of it... most of it... was hers.

Her threats had been masterfully spliced together, creating a whole new 'criminal'. Heeju was shocked beyond comprehension.

"The car has been scrapped...let's settle for 2 billion. I'm being generous."
"..."
"Do you want me to start? Do you want me to kill you tomorrow?"

What on earth... What is going on here? Who would do this?

Still clutching a spoon with rice stuck to her lip, Heeju staggered towards the TV. Her mind went blank and her trembling hands could barely keep themselves steady.

Then came the sudden noise - a door sliding open, followed by the heavy thud of it slamming shut.

Someone had entered.

A figure following the acrid smell of smoke burst in with rough, unsteady steps. He was a mess - his hair, usually neat, hung over his eyebrows, and his shirt was singed and darkened by soot. His jacket and tie were gone.

As he approached, the smell of burning became overpowering.

"...!"

A foreboding unease crept over her.

"N-No way...

She forced herself to suppress her suspicion. It can't be!

Suddenly their eyes locked.

"Would you mind showing me your thigh?"
"...!"

Heeju blinked quickly, struggling to process what she had just heard.

D- Did he just say that?

"Shall I pull it up or do you want to do it yourself?"

His eyes drifted down to her legs without shame.

No, I didn't mishear him. Thighs? Why my thighs?

"Someone set fire to my office," he explained.
"...!"

He gestured at the news on the television.

That can't be! How could it be?

Sure, the modulated voice is mine, and yes, I'm the one who threatened him, but arson? Absolutely not!

"Got a little too excited, I guess," he muttered, brushing his hair back. His grin twisted like a predator on the hunt.

"There's no better way to fix a bad habit," he added. His eyes shone with dark satisfaction.

It was rare to see Baek Sa-eon smile. But it wasn't out of amusement. This was the brittle exterior of something far more dangerous.

He's the one...!

The realisation struck like a bolt of lightning.

'He's the one who edited this recording...!'

Everything about it screamed manipulation. This was his way of escalating the situation and regaining control.

Why is this getting so out of hand?

Heeju was about to faint. But even as she stood frozen, her distorted voice was broadcast over and over again.

"Now," he said, coming closer, "we're going to do a little check. Since you're the only lead I have."

His gaze grew sharper.

 

***

 

Steam filled the bathroom as Baek Sa-eon stood under the shower, letting the hot water wash away the soot that clung to him.

-"I'll make you regret this!"

The sound of her recorded voice played in his mind.

The fire had started the moment he had shouted that last threat into the phone. The private office he used outside of official business - not his main office, but one known only to a select few - had been targeted.

Somehow the perpetrator had found it.

Baek Sa-eon thought back to the CCTV footage: a figure in a black sweater and baseball cap.

The perpetrator had even tilted his cap up for a moment, smirking defiantly at the camera lens before disappearing into the shadows.

His shoulder, which had been slightly burned, was in pain. The running water masked the acrid smell that still lingered.

"...Been a while since I let someone get the better of me like that," he muttered to himself. His lips curled into a humourless grin.
"Well, now it's my turn."

Without hesitation, he diverted from the hospital to a secure backup. It had taken less than an hour to splice together the damned audio and leak it to the media.

Manipulating narratives? That was his speciality.

But even he couldn't get away with this. Not after the fire. Not after his carefully constructed life had been shattered.

He tied a towel loosely around his waist, steam swirling in the dim bathroom light.

"I didn't want to drag her into this," he murmured, his dark eyes narrowing, "but there's no choice."

 

***

 

"Heeju," he called from the living room.

She jumped, her body stiffening at the sound.

Surely... Surely not...

"Bring your leg over here."

He walked towards her, water dripping onto the floor. His shirt clung damply to his chest.

"Whoever found my office won't stop there," he said, his tone flat. "This place isn't safe either."
"..."
"So cooperate with me. I need to confirm how much you know."

He moved faster than she expected, scooping her up before she could retreat.

"W-What's he doing?

"Stay still. Good girls behave," he said, adjusting her weight in his arms as if it were nothing.

'Good girls?!'

Her face heated. But he didn't pause, taking deliberate steps towards his bedroom.

Theirs had been a marriage of convenience. They had shared a home, but never crossed borders.

Until now, that is.

He dropped Heeju roughly onto the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly under the impact.

"I need to see it with my own eyes."

Baek Sa-eon's heavy shadow loomed over her.

The faint smell of antiseptic from the hospital filled her nostrils and she instinctively recoiled. Then she felt the waistband of her trousers being pulled.

The elastic was stretching precariously, as if about to break. Panicking, she grabbed his wrist to stop him.

'Wait, wait...!'

His dry, piercing gaze flashed with irritation.

Clucking his tongue, he grabbed the car key from the bedside table. Without hesitation, he slid the small utility knife attached to the key ring open and brought it to her trousers.

'What are you even...'

In one swift motion, he sliced through the fabric near her thigh. Before she could even process what had happened, the right side of her trousers was shredded, revealing her pale, unblemished skin.

Well, at least he didn't rip them off, but somehow this feels even worse...!

His large hand pressed against her thigh, his fingers slowly pushing the fabric aside.

The clinical intensity in his expression made her feel less like a person and more like a specimen to be observed.

"Ugh..."

Despite the overwhelming embarrassment, a strange tingling sensation spread from where his thumb brushed her skin. Her heart pounded irregularly and she instinctively curled her toes.

That's when his thumb ran firmly over a particular spot.

"There it is," he murmured, his breath hot against her bare skin.
"It's real."

His previously impassive face twisted into a deep frown.

Baek Sa-eon's eyes fixed on her thigh. It was as if he was comparing the distinctive birthmarks on her skin with a photograph in his mind.

Three tiny dots in a triangular formation - unique and unmistakable.

Just like the picture.

A dark cloud of resentment spread across his face. His composure slowly evaporated.

"I didn't think it would be true."
"..."
"How am I supposed to take this, Hong Heeju?"

Her jaw clenched as she struggled to keep her expression neutral.

"Go ahead, be as angry as you want. Let it drive you mad! Because your political career won't take off until you deal with your troublesome wife!

"When did that photo even..." he began, only to cut himself off with a shudder. "Forget it. That's not the point..."

He asked her in an irritated voice, "Bring me your phone."

"...!"

The unexpected demand made her stiffen. She hesitated, but his keen intuition didn't miss a thing. He leaned closer, and the faint hospital scent she had noticed earlier became more pronounced.

"I'll check it for hacking and return it."
"..."
"Just bring it."

Surprisingly, he didn't press for the photos themselves. His focus wasn't on the provocative content, but on discovering how the files had been leaked.

He saw the garter belt and still kept that blank expression?

As absurd as it was, she realised how difficult it was to shake Baek Sa-eon. Embarrassment, shame - these emotions didn't seem to reach him. Whether it was sheer confidence or lack of interest, he remained frustratingly unshaken.

'Argh...!'

Her inner muttering was cut short when his hand suddenly gripped her thigh. His grip was tight, too tight, leaving her skin burning.

His breathing was ragged.

Heeju looked down at her thigh, now marked with a bright red imprint of his fingers. The sting lingered with a mixture of heat and dull pain.

She sat in stunned silence, her hand running absentmindedly over the throbbing mark.