"Aaaaaaargh!"
Seo Dong Hu screamed until his throat nearly tore as he stared at his hand bent backward.
"Go on. Keep talking."
Han Seung Jae released the arm in his grip. Hunched over, Seo Dong Hu cradled the hand dangling limply from his wrist as he struggled to suppress another scream.
"Are you crying?"
Han Seung Jae tightened his fingers in Seo Dong Hu's hair and forced his head up. The rims of Seo Dong Hu's eyes were red. Some of it was from the blood running down his forehead, but tears had also gathered beneath his eyes.
"So, which hand was it?"
Han Seung Jae's fingers tightened. Blood and dirt clung to the patch of scalp he had nearly ripped away. The pin in his tie gleamed as he leaned over.
The closer those cold features drew, the weaker Seo Dong Hu's knees became. He curled in on himself, clutching his broken hand to his chest.
Overwhelmed by the pain, Seo Dong Hu could barely breathe. His Adam's apple quivered erratically. There was no point in lying. Han Seung Jae clearly knew everything already and was merely making him confirm it.
"I'm asking you a question."
Seo Dong Hu swallowed the pain and barely managed to force out the words through choking gasps.
"Fuck, you fucking bastard—I said I was sorry!"
Tears streamed pathetically from the corners of his eyes. Han Seung Jae clicked his tongue under his breath.
"Is my question really that difficult?"
Han Seung Jae seized the arm supporting the broken wrist. Seo Dong Hu's lips trembled violently. Before he could turn his words into sound, a razor-edged voice cut into his ear.
"You should have said it was this hand from the start."
Seo Dong Hu blurted out desperately.
"Seung Jae. No, Director Han. I said I was sorry—aaaaaargh!"
Seo Dong Hu's scream reverberated throughout the office. The sounds of bones breaking one after another joined it.
"Aaaaaaargh!"
Han Seung Jae withdrew his hand. At his feet, Seo Dong Hu writhed, his breathing ragged.
"Hngh, ah...!"
He stared repeatedly at his mangled arm, his face stricken with despair.
Only after the situation had settled did Secretary Park approach, his footsteps measured, and offer Han Seung Jae a handkerchief. He had stood with his back to the door and watched everything. Even so, there had been nothing he could do to intervene.
Han Seung Jae accepted the handkerchief and wiped the grime from his hands. Rubbing the blood from his ring, he spoke.
"I've never cared much for wine. No matter how much I drink, it never seems to get me drunk."
Seo Dong Hu's trembling gaze fell on the wine sitting on the table. He had brought it a short while ago as a wedding gift. A cord woven from golden thread trailed from the carefully wrapped box.
"Take it with you."
Seo Dong Hu's gaze dropped to his two broken arms. A moment later, his unsteady knees hit the floor. He bent over the table and caught the cord between lips smeared with blood and saliva.
Secretary Park opened the door. The chauffeur waiting outside slowly turned his head, then rushed in in horror.
"V-Vice President!"
The chauffeur took the wine Seo Dong Hu was holding in his teeth. Blood and saliva clung to the dangling golden cord.
"Next time."
The voice from behind him was so low that it sent a chill down his spine. With blood streaming over his face and forcing one eye shut, Seo Dong Hu turned his head. Han Seung Jae stood watching him, one hand tucked into his pocket.
"If you want to enter my house, come to me first."
To Seo Dong Hu, it sounded like a threat to break his legs next. As though Han Seung Jae were daring him to try reaching the house even if he had to crawl there.
Besides, Han Seung Jae was not someone Seo Dong Hu could meet simply by going to see him. Most of his calls never made it past Secretary Park. There was no telling whether he would even be allowed to see Han Seung Jae's face. And the business currently underway was being handled with his father.
Seo Dong Hu knew that perfectly well. That was precisely why he had forced his way into Seo Yi Kyung's presence.
What Han Seung Jae had said amounted to an order never to go there again. Perhaps it was an order never to let himself be seen at all.
It was late at night.
Seo Yi Kyung opened his eyes. He started to rub them out of habit, only to stop when he noticed the cast around his right hand. The disaster from earlier that day immediately came flooding back.
Butler Do had forcibly torn Seo Dong Hu's arm away from him. Smack. At the same moment, Seo Dong Hu had struck him across the face once more. Rather than retaliate, however, Butler Do had summoned the others.
The drawing room had descended into chaos. But Seo Yi Kyung had been curled up around his arm, unable to see what was happening. All he could do was let the others help him to the hospital.
Rustle. Seo Yi Kyung sat up. He was alone in the enormous bed.
He must not be home yet.
Seo Yi Kyung slipped on his slippers and headed into the bathroom. He washed his face one-handed and came back out. As he dried his face with a towel, his gaze stopped on something.
"...?"
He had not noticed it before, still groggy from sleep, but he was certain he had seen a black silhouette moving beyond the curtains, out on the terrace.
Something moved out there...
Seo Yi Kyung approached slowly and cautiously took hold of the curtain, only to flinch.
Han Seung Jae was sitting on the terrace with his back to the lights spilling across the garden. The cold slant of his eyes gave him an austere, intelligent air. His sharply sculpted nose and frigid features betrayed no expression at all.
He raised a glass containing a sphere of ice. The amber liquor barely brushed his lips.
Then Han Seung Jae turned his head, and their eyes met. Seo Yi Kyung's entire body went rigid in an instant.
What do I do?
Seo Yi Kyung bit his lower lip. It looked as though he had been spying on him without meaning to. He considered turning away, but opened the door instead. Han Seung Jae's gaze had fallen on the hand encased in a cast.
"They said the ligament was only slightly stretched."
Only Seo Yi Kyung's fingers protruded from the cast around his wrist. His fingertips fidgeted.
"I wasn't trying to disturb you. I'm going back to sleep, so please keep drinking."
Seo Yi Kyung was about to close the narrowly opened door when Han Seung Jae spoke.
"If you're done making excuses, come sit down."
"..."
Seo Yi Kyung hesitated. He could not simply pretend he had not heard him. The consequences would be more than he could handle. He opened the door wider and stepped onto the terrace. A gust of night air swept over the shirt he wore. Trying to dispel the awkward silence, he spoke.
"When did you get home?"
"What difference would knowing make?"
His question had been answered with another question. Seo Yi Kyung moved forward slowly, feeling every muscle in his body tense. Enduring Han Seung Jae's cold stare was no easy task. When he finally reached the table, he noticed the whiskey. There was only one glass in front of it.
"Would you like some?"
The voice in his ear was remarkably gentle. But how could he possibly refuse? Perhaps his opinion did not matter in the first place.
He did not like alcohol, but perhaps it would help him sleep. Since he had just woken up, he would otherwise have to lie still and pretend to sleep until morning.
After considering it carefully, Seo Yi Kyung reached out with his left hand. His fingertips had barely grazed the glass, nudging it across the table, when Han Seung Jae caught his wrist and pulled.
"!"
Seo Yi Kyung's upper body was dragged downward. As he pitched forward, their lips met.
The moment he kissed him, Han Seung Jae swiftly released his wrist, wrapped both arms around Seo Yi Kyung's waist, and settled him on his lap.
Seo Yi Kyung shuddered as those large hands touched his back. Unlike the cold lips pressed against his, the tongue invading his mouth and tangling with his own was hot, and Han Seung Jae's breath carried the sweet scent of liquor.
"Mmph."
Seo Yi Kyung's side spasmed when a hand pushed up beneath his shirt. He tried to force back the tongue taking possession of his mouth with no regard for his resistance.
Their tongues rubbed together in the narrow confines of his mouth, drawing apart only to plunge back in again and again. Wet, smacking sounds broke apart against his tongue.
Seo Yi Kyung began to suffocate beneath the relentless movements of Han Seung Jae's tongue. Still, it swept over the tender inside of his mouth, scraped across his palate, and pressed deeper.
Meanwhile, the fingers beneath his shirt traveled all the way up his chest. They trapped a pointed nipple between them, gathered up what little flesh there was, and squeezed hard.
"Ah, ngh...!"
Seo Yi Kyung instinctively reached out with his right hand. The cast struck Han Seung Jae's firm chest. His strengthless fingers had barely pushed him, yet the lips sealed over his own pulled away.
A long strand of saliva stretched between them like a thread before drooping downward. Seo Yi Kyung panted through his wet lips.
"Haa...!"
Breathing hard, he stared at Han Seung Jae, his entire awareness consumed by the man before him. His eyes were so full of lust that Seo Yi Kyung thought if he turned his head or tried to get to his feet and flee, Han Seung Jae might bite into the nape of his neck and fuck him then and there.
Perhaps it was because of the light spilling in from the garden. The shadows around Han Seung Jae's eyes made them seem even deeper. In stark contrast to his frigid features, the tongue that had ravaged Seo Yi Kyung's mouth had been searing hot. It felt as though the kiss alone were turning his thoughts thick and hazy. The instant the thought crossed his mind, he jolted at the languid fingers still toying with his nipple.
"Are you drunk?"
Seo Yi Kyung pressed his cast against the back of the hand beneath his shirt. The movement stopped briefly.
Han Seung Jae's gaze drifted slowly past Seo Yi Kyung's shoulder. The ice melting in the glass gave a quiet clink.
"Of course not."
"Then why...?"
His saliva-wet lower lip parted and closed as he struggled to draw enough air.
"You should have kept pretending to sleep."