"…!"

Oh no…!

Startled, Heeju hastily ended the call, her gaze snapping to the doorway. There stood Baek Sa-eon, his face utterly frozen, his sharp eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart race violently, threatening to burst from her chest. Her complexion turned ghostly pale.

"Hong Heeju, what were you doing?"

"…"

Her mind went completely blank.

Barely managing to swallow her heated breaths, Heeju froze in place. But she quickly noticed that Baek Saeon’s own breathing was unsteady, his unwavering gaze laced with a kind of directness that frightened her.

Why is he suddenly here…?

Heeju instinctively stuffed the negotiation phone deep under the blanket, trying to maintain a calm facade.

But there was no hiding her flushed cheeks, still tinged red from her earlier peak, or her teary, dazed eyes.

"Should I come over there?"

Clutching the blanket tightly, Heeju shook her head frantically.

But Baek Sa-eon stepped closer regardless, leaning over the bed with one hand braced against the mattress. His bloodshot eyes roved over her face—slowly, deliberately, as though scrutinizing every inch.

"So, this is the face you make," he muttered.

"…!"

Before she could respond, their lips collided.

The kiss was desperate, like a parched man gulping water. His lips moved greedily, his tongue pressing into her mouth with an urgency that left her no choice but to part her lips wider under the weight of him.

It was as if he was ravenous, consumed with a need to devour her completely. He drank in her every breath, his tongue sliding against hers with a fevered intensity.

What… what is this situation?!

He was just on the phone with another woman… now he’s here with me?

What does he take me for?!

Desperation rising, Heeju bit down on his lip.

"…!"

Despite the sharpness of her bite, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, pressing in deeper, ignoring the faint metallic taste of blood spreading in their mouths as he gripped her face firmly.

"Why, do I seem like a bastard to you?"

His voice growled low, the sound vibrating against her lips.

"At least this way, I won’t feel unjustly criticized when you call me one."

"…!"

"You said there are many ways for a married couple to communicate," he murmured, the heat of his breath brushing her skin.

Before she could retort, his lips were on hers again, more forceful than before. Their mouths mingled, soft and slick, as his tongue continued to claim hers. His lips trailed from hers to her jawline, then lower, leaving scorching marks on her neck as he went.

Her legs tightened instinctively against the fire spreading through her.

This man…

He was just on the phone with someone else and now… now he’s doing this to me!

Furious, Heeju pounded her fists against his shoulders. His earlier words about “waiting for her to speak first” echoed in her mind, making her chest clench with anger.

He’s just trying to make me speak again, isn’t he? Like always…!

Driven by a sudden surge of defiance, she didn’t push him away. Instead, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him closer.

"…!"

His body stiffened in surprise, giving her the opening she needed. Boldly, she initiated the kiss, her movements awkward but determined. Meeting his gaze directly, she clumsily worked her jaw, her tongue teasingly brushing his lips and teeth, experimenting.

She tentatively licked at his lips, tugging on them playfully, her tongue barely grazing his straight teeth before daring to skim the inside of his mouth.

That was when he abruptly pulled back.

"…!"

Baek Sa-eon straightened, his large hand cradling his own jaw, his neck flushed as though he were drunk. He looked rattled, and Heeju could only blink in confusion at his reaction.

"…Put on your pants before you catch a cold."

He gestured toward the clothing scattered on the floor before striding out of the room without another word.

As the door shut behind him, Heeju’s face burned scarlet. Her gaze fell to the front of his trousers just as he turned—a noticeable bulge straining against the fabric.

She swallowed hard, her own heart pounding wildly.

***

Heeju woke to the chirping of birds outside her window, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The exhaustion from the rituals right after her early discharge must have caught up with her; she had passed out entirely. Squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, she suddenly snapped to full alertness.

“Ah…!”

After a deep sleep, her overworked mind had finally settled. What hit her now was the aftermath of the storm.

It was already the second kiss.

“This is insane…!”

She slapped a hand over her mouth.

And that wasn’t even the end of it.

The proactive role she had taken with "Phone X," the obscene exchanges, the kiss…

Heeju gripped her hair and groaned inwardly.

“Where on earth is the kidnapper, anyway?!”

Her misdirected frustration now found a new target: the unresponsive voice on the other end of her infamous phone.

Looking back now with a calmer mind, it was clear:

The moment their calls had devolved into something else entirely, the blackmail had already failed.

No matter what leverage she tried to push, he had laughed it off, countered with proposals of his own, and ultimately ended up completely dominating her.

Trying to extort Baek Saeon was, by now, next to impossible.

“I’m ruined…” she sighed deeply, shoulders slumping.

“Or maybe I’ve just woken up to reality.”

Baek Saeon seemed unshakeable, as if he was confident in his ability to control every rumor, criticism, or attack against him.

That was Heeju’s fatal mistake: underestimating how firmly he could stand his ground.

His steely composure was beyond what someone as inexperienced as her could hope to crack.

Now, more than ever, she desperately needed the kidnapper’s guidance. But for days now, he had been completely silent, leaving her to flounder in uncertainty.

As she sat at the dining table, stabbing at her salad with a fork, her phone buzzed briefly.

“...!”

Reacting like lightning, Heeju tossed aside the fork and snatched up her phone.

But her hope quickly deflated. It wasn’t the kidnapper—it was a call from the Presidential Office’s Public Relations team.

"Hello? Is this… yes, this is the right number, isn’t it? Interpreter Hong Heeju?"

Heeju swallowed the leaf of lettuce she had been holding in her mouth and tapped the screen lightly in response.

"Ah, yes! The reason I’m calling is… the President has a special address scheduled for today, followed by a spokesperson’s briefing. It’s going to be broadcast live, and we had hoped you could assist, but we understand the circumstances."

Hearing this, Heeju felt a growing heaviness in her chest.

"Still," the caller continued, "there will be more briefings scheduled in the near future. If you’re available, perhaps you could familiarize yourself with the atmosphere beforehand?"

For a brief moment, her eyes lit up.

***

Baek Saeon was stopped at a red light on his way to work, resting his forehead against the steering wheel.

Listening to the morning news on the radio was part of his daily routine, but today he couldn’t concentrate at all. His patience was wearing thin.

Although he had twisted the threatening calls in his favor, her genuine reactions—though amusing—stirred something more volatile inside him. He couldn’t shake the feeling of irritation creeping in, even though he was the one who had initiated this peculiar dynamic.

Whenever he saw her, she kept her lips firmly sealed as if nothing had changed.

Was she really so desperate to undo this marriage?

The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Last night, while she was asleep, he had searched her bookshelves, closet, vanity, and bags in an attempt to find the second phone. But he found nothing. Eventually, his gaze landed on the blanket.

Without hesitation, he pulled it back.

Exposed beneath it were her pale ankles, calves, and smooth thighs stretching upward—

“...!”

The thought of the phone disappeared entirely.

What if I bit into that soft skin?

Honk! Honk! Honk!

The angry blare of a car horn snapped Baek Saeon out of his thoughts. He pressed the accelerator, an irritated scowl forming on his face.

As the radio played in the background, a segment on cultural news caught his attention.

"Efforts to increase accessibility for disabled audiences are gaining traction. The play The Prince and the Pauper recently concluded a two-week run featuring Korean subtitles, a first of its kind in the country. The National Theater has also committed to incorporating sign language interpretation, audio descriptions, and Korean subtitles into future performances. Additionally, they have extended invitations to next week's special screening of the late Baek Jangho's documentary—"

Hearing his grandfather's name, Baek Saeon's eyes grew cold.

The faint smile he’d held while thinking of Heeju disappeared completely. He turned off the radio abruptly and gripped the steering wheel with unnecessary force.

As soon as he stepped into the Public Relations Office, a sharp, shrill scream greeted him.

“Kyahhh—!”

Frowning at the unexpected commotion, Baek Saeon quickened his pace.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

One of the employees stammered, her voice shaky with distress. “I-It’s just that… when we came in, we found…”

Brushing past the crowd, he reached the center of the commotion. On the desk lay a clear plastic bag, the kind often used to hold tropical fish.

Inside the bag was water—and dozens of severed goldfish heads floating grotesquely.

“Oh my god…!”

Another employee clapped a hand over her mouth, struggling not to retch.

The fish heads, their eyes pale and lifeless, floated amidst jagged, uneven cuts that made the sight even more horrifying.

“And on your desk, sir…”

Someone else spoke up but trailed off, unable to continue.

Baek Saeon, his expression hard as stone, marched straight to his desk. What awaited him there was no less grisly—a second bag, this one filled with the decapitated bodies of the goldfish.

“Ugh…”

One of the employees gagged at the sight.

The fish corpses had their bellies stitched up with crude, haphazard threads. The poorly sewn incisions leaked blood, turning the water murky and red.

While everyone else turned away, their faces twisted in disgust, Baek Saeon’s lips curved into a cold smile.

Finally, you’ve revealed yourself.

It was the long-awaited message from the real blackmailer.

Regaining his composure, he turned to reassure the staff. “I’ll handle this. Please return to your duties.”

Without another word, he grabbed both bags and headed to the restroom.

Locking the door behind him, he opened the first bag and pulled out one of the mangled fish bodies. His face remained devoid of emotion as he handled the macabre remnants.

“Fishing hooks, huh…”

His eyes, sharp and unyielding, scrutinized the hooks embedded in the fish.

He expertly removed the hook and reopened the goldfish’s belly. Despite the slimy texture and lingering blood, his movements were practiced, unflinching. The stench of fish guts was far from unfamiliar to him.

Baek Saeon repeated this grim process with each goldfish, his hands growing stickier with every dissection.

Finally, he froze, his hands suspended mid-air. Something had caught his attention.