“Pardon?”
“I asked if you weren't going to eat.”
She had intended to carry her bowl straight back into the kitchen, but Eunhyung had spoken to her, so she set the hot bowl down again. Still, the fact that he had picked up his spoon was somewhat encouraging, and Hyungnam answered readily.
“I usually eat separately in the kitchen.”
“What's this 'usually' business? Sit down.”
“Pardon?”
“Do you always need to be told everything twice?”
Choi Eunhyung drew his eyebrows together irritably. His exasperated gaze seemed to ask whether she wasn't satisfied unless she made him repeat himself. Frightened, Hyungnam shook her head almost violently, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The clinking of spoons against bowls and the sounds of blowing on hot food filled the dining table with a peculiar bustle.
As Hyungnam chewed the springy, tender pieces of dough, she kept stealing sideways glances at Choi Eunhyung. Once the bean sprouts had been removed, he had begun quietly emptying his bowl without further complaint.
“…Is it to your liking?”
“Yeah.”
“What would you like me to make for dinner?”
At that, Choi Eunhyung finally let out a snort of laughter. What began as a single incredulous chuckle somehow continued, trailing off into helpless amusement. Eventually, he stopped eating altogether, lowered his spoon into the soup, and asked in disbelief,
“I didn't come here to board. And I didn't come here to get free meals, either.”
“…I know.”
“I'm not fussy about what you feed me. Just make something simple.”
That's rich, coming from someone who was watching like a hawk to make sure I picked out every last bean sprout.
Hyungnam cautiously brought the tip of her spoon to her lips. Then she mumbled dejectedly,
“You were sick.”
“……”
“When someone's been sick, they need to eat properly afterward. Whatever they feel like eating.”
There was no answer.
When Hyungnam cautiously raised her eyes, Choi Eunhyung was staring at her with his arms folded.
Disapproval clouded his handsome face. His displeased gaze seemed to ask what business it was of hers, and she felt the skin of her face tighten.
As she endured the ordeal of his pitch-black eyes slowly roaming over her face, Hyungnam regretted everything.
I shouldn't have meddled.
They said he was a merciless knife-wielding gangster, and his attitude certainly was obnoxious. Even when someone went out of her way to show him consideration, he brushed it aside as though it were a nuisance.
Yet, thinking about it, there was something strange about her own behavior.
Hadn't she interfered unnecessarily with Choi Eunhyung the last time, too? She could simply have handed him some medicine and left him alone. Instead, whenever she was in front of him, her tongue seemed to grow longer, and she found herself poking her nose into one thing after another.
Suddenly, the palm she had used to carelessly brush aside his bangs and touch his forehead seemed to sting.
I must've torn up my good sense along with that discarded October calendar.
Why, though?
There's nothing worth being curious about. He's just a rotten gangster.
Hyungnam pressed her lips firmly together. She kept her eyes fixed on her bowl and stirred the pieces of dough around.
Her appetite had vanished long ago, but she could at least pretend to eat.
“……”
Choi Eunhyung remained silent for a moment before picking up his spoon again.
He blew on the pieces of dough, which must have cooled to lukewarm by now, and ate them. He crunched appreciatively through the lightly cooked kimchi. He even took a generous bite of the stuffed cucumber kimchi Hyungnam had set out.
There were only two possibilities. Either he liked the food, or he had decided to take the maid's advice at face value.
Whichever it was, it did her no harm.
Feeling a faint sense of relief, Hyungnam bent her head low over her bowl. Then, tightening her cheeks, she smiled to herself.
Eunhyung's spoon slowed briefly before resuming its usual pace.
***
Choi Eunhyung had told her not to concern herself with him, but the knowledge that someone else was in the house bothered her considerably.
Besides, he wasn't even the owner.
No matter how much authority he had been given to act on the chairman's behalf, Choi Eunhyung could never actually become Park Shineok.
Even as evening approached, Hyungnam still hadn't managed to establish exactly what her role ought to be.
Should she leave him alone, or should she keep watch over him?
If she chose the former and Eunhyung caused some trouble in the house before running away, she might be held responsible. But if she chose the latter, she would have to spend the entire day hovering outside the study.
Nevertheless, Hyungnam chose the latter.
The study stood at the end of the hallway, somewhere the maid would have no natural reason to pass during her ordinary duties. So throughout the afternoon, she loitered in the corridor, watering the potted plants at an unusual hour and sweeping and wiping the already spotless floor.
Each time she checked, Choi Eunhyung rewarded her vigilance by remaining at his desk, sitting as still as a figure in a painting, utterly absorbed in his work.
But once she had finished mopping the floor, there really was nothing left to do.
The desperate excuse she finally came up with was dusting.
Halfheartedly rubbing a cleaning cloth along the windowsill, Hyungnam leaned her waist back slightly and peered into the study.
“Huh?”
She froze with the cloth clutched in her hand.
There was nobody in the study.
Where did he go? Did he run away before he'd even lasted a day? What about all the gold ornaments lying around the house instead of being locked in the safe? Are they still there?
Hyungnam went pale and hurriedly looked around.
She was so flustered that she failed to notice the faint warmth of another body wavering just behind her.
“What're you doing?”
An indifferent voice came from directly behind her, flying into her like a hook.
Hyungnam couldn't even scream. She simply crumpled to the floor.
Her heart was hammering so violently it felt ready to leap out of her mouth.
She felt as though she had been caught treating a knife-wielding gangster like a petty thief, and now that very gangster might carve through her skin and muscles at any moment.
Her chest tightened with terror.
Bracing herself against the wall, Hyungnam staggered to her feet.
Eunhyung strode past her as though nothing had happened. The breeze stirred by his passing carried that familiar, fresh scent of tangerine peel.
Hyungnam struggled to ignore the fragrance of his cologne lingering at the tip of her nose and rubbed her chest in relief.
She had been gripping the damp cloth so tightly that the wet tips of her fingers had wrinkled into lengthwise creases.
But before she could pick up the cloth she had dropped, Eunhyung emerged from the study again.
Tension instantly returned to Hyungnam's body, and she straightened her back.
As he slipped his arms into his jacket, he said indifferently,
“Let's go.”
She barely managed to swallow the Pardon? rising to her lips.
She had a feeling he would scold her again for being unable to understand anything the first time.
But she could hardly abandon the house without knowing why they were leaving or where they were supposed to go.
After carefully choosing her words, Hyungnam asked with considerable seriousness,
“Me?”
“Who else would I be talking to?”
Choi Eunhyung shrugged his shoulders to settle his jacket properly and started walking.
Hyungnam's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
Oh, no. He must've caught me snooping around and keeping watch on him. That's why he's taking me outside. He's going to settle the score with me.
Hyungnam stood rooted to the spot like a wooden statue.
Looking back over his shoulder at her, Choi Eunhyung gave a feeble snort.
“Look at your face. You'd think someone was going to eat you alive.”
“……”
“You made me that soup, so I'm buying you dinner.”
“Go get ready.”
At this unbelievable order, Hyungnam tilted her head for a moment.
Eunhyung promptly shot her an icy look, as though he would kill her if she kept him waiting even a second longer.
Terrified, she nodded almost convulsively and fled to her room.
Even though he had told her to get ready, she owned so few decent clothes that all she could do was throw on a jacket.
Without saying where they were going, Choi Eunhyung went down the front steps ahead of her.
Hyungnam quickly slipped her feet into her eggplant-colored slippers and followed.
Across the broad lawn, down the stone steps, and through the heavy iron gate went his black dress shoes, clicking steadily against the ground.
Tap-tap-tap.
Hyungnam's puppy-like footsteps followed behind.
Apart from the unavoidable sound of his heels, Choi Eunhyung seemed to make as little noise as possible when he walked.
Watching his slender figure from behind, she thought his light, graceful gait resembled that of a great predator.
Does he follow his targets like that when he's working, too? Silently coming up behind them before driving a knife into the back of their necks……
No. Stop thinking such horrible things with the man standing right in front of you.
He's offering to buy me dinner just because I made him a bowl of soup.
Maybe, just maybe, he might actually be a decent person.
But however hard she tried to think positively, the tendrils of anxiety easily wrapped themselves around Hyungnam.
The fact remained that Choi Eunhyung had killed people.
And what made it worse was that his past suggested those killings hadn't been accidents or acts committed in the heat of the moment.
There was no reason why the blade he had turned against other human beings might not someday be turned against her.
Her stomach grew uneasy.
Is this simply fear, or is it some instinctive revulsion?
She shook her head as though shuddering.
The soft, curled wisps of hair beneath her ears trembled in the cold air, and a chill crept around the back of her neck.
Hyungnam thrust her hands deep into her jacket pockets.
“Do you like sponge cake?”
The man walking a couple of steps ahead of her asked without warning.
Hyungnam hastily pulled her hands out of the pockets she had just put them in and clasped them politely in front of herself.
Her own nervous fussing struck her as ridiculous, but somehow she felt she had to behave that way.
“Yes.”
“There's a place in Midopa that makes good sponge cake.”
“…Do you like bread and cakes too, Manager Choi?”
Having reached the main road where cars passed, Eunhyung stopped and took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket.
He gave it a couple of taps and shakes. Remarkably, a single cigarette emerged.
He caught it between his lips and answered, his words slightly muffled,
“Do I look like I would?”
“Then……”
“Little brats like sweet stuff, don't they?”
Little brats?
While Hyungnam lowered her eyes dejectedly, Choi Eunhyung began patting various parts of his jacket.
But his searching hands gradually slowed, and a look of dismay settled over his face.
By then, the cigarette filter was already crumpled between his even teeth.
Hyungnam, who had suddenly been reduced to a little brat, experienced a small measure of satisfaction at his predicament.
Then she murmured teasingly,
“I'm not a little brat.”