“Sorry. Earlier today I handed the Department Head a document, but he accidentally shredded it. He asked me where the original was, so I had to go find out and let him know.”
“That’s all right. It’s hardly the first time our Department Head’s ignored business hours and called me.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“But, Assistant Manager, let’s finish what we were talking about earlier.”
Yoo Sia wiggled in her seat as if that were the real issue. “I’m not vain.”
Song Jin-seong decided it was a matter of wording. ‘Yeah, calling her vain probably stung too much.’
He spoke carefully, “I’m sorry—my choice of words was too harsh. I apologize for that.”
“No, it’s not that.” Sia tried to clarify, pausing before diving into the full story. “My family is actually very well off.”
She belonged to Korea’s second-highest chaebol family. “Well off” didn’t begin to describe it. From this very restaurant to the supercars cruising Gangnam-daero—even if you bought the entire Sinsa Station area, you’d still have money to spare. In fact, the building this restaurant occupied had been placed under a proxy name so Chairman Yoo could eventually gift it to his granddaughter—though diners had no idea.
But Song Jin-seong’s response took her by surprise. “You don’t have to explain.”
“Huh?”
“It’s totally normal,” he said, placing his hands flat on the table. “When someone starts earning money for the first time, they naturally get ambitious—want this, want that. I’ve been there myself, so I understand.”
“No, Assistant Manager, it’s not like that—I’m really wealthy.”
Sia blinked earnestly, trying to convey her sincerity.
But Song shook his head. “Sigh, Sia. Let me be frank.”
He sounded serious, as though tired of back-and-forth excuses. “At first, I really thought you were gold-plated rich.”
Seeing her ever-changing wardrobe and designer pieces, he understood why.
“But I heard from Senior Staff Park what you said.”
“What did I say…?”
“You said that last bag you brought was something you’d have to return.”
Her face froze. He must be talking about the new Hermessia bag she’d tested. Indeed, luxury brands often loan prototype pieces to VVVIPs for testing—only three people per country. She’d been one of them. Returning it meant the trial was over.
Yet Song had misunderstood. “That was a rental service, right?”
“Rental?”
“I’ve heard it’s all the rage among MZs these days.” He spoke confidently, “They rent designer items so people can carry luxury they couldn’t otherwise afford.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
She genuinely hadn’t known such services existed.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“It’s true.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Sia nodded vehemently.
Song felt a strange unease. ‘…What’s happening?’ She seemed embarrassed, but her expression looked genuinely clueless.
Then—brrring!—his phone rang again. “One moment.”
[Caller: Department Head Ma Won-ho]
“Sorry, it’s Ma-bu again.”
“You can take it here.”
“No, I’ll be right back.”
He stepped outside and answered.
“Yes, Sir? You still can’t find the document?”
—“No, Song. I did, but something urgent came up.”
“Urgent?”
—“Sorry to bother you so late, but come back to the office immediately.”
“…Right now?”
It was past 8 p.m. He’d barely left work when he had to return.
—“Remember the nationwide ad campaign starting tomorrow?”
“Yes. The GH air-con spot, right?”
He remembered the grueling work that got it approved.
—“The actress we shot the ad with is caught in a drug scandal. It’s under embargo but won’t last past dawn.”
“…Damn. Understood. I’ll head back now.”
He ended the call and returned to the table. Sia looked up, worried. “I’m so sorry, Sia, something urgent’s come up.”
“…Yes?”
“I need to get back to the office now.”
“Can I come with you?”
“No, you don’t have to.”
It wasn’t anything for an intern to handle.
“I’ll cover the bill—let’s split it.”
He left her and ran toward the company.
Meanwhile, at the same time.
HR Group Chairman’s office.
“Director Choi.”
“Yes, Chairman?”
“Do you think Sia will be upset I was late with her allowance?”
Yoo Jin-gap asked anxiously.
His granddaughter always replied instantly, but today she hadn’t.
“She’ll be fine. Sia isn’t one to sulk over that.”
“I hope so…”
He could be ruthless with the grandsons—seizing their allowances if he felt like it—but with Sia he was unusually gentle.
“Sigh.”
He exhaled deeply. “Director Choi…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t get her words out of my head.”
“What words?”
At dinner a few nights ago, Sia said plainly, “He’s a good person. He works at our company.”
“She’s naive enough to think anyone at HR must be good.”
“I don’t think she means it that way…”
“Just because someone works here doesn’t make them decent.”
“…That’s true.”
“The world’s full of wolves…”
He sighed so heavily it sounded like the earth itself gave way. “What if he’s a rogue?”
“….”
“If so, isn’t it HR’s fault for hiring him?”
“...Sir?”
“Who’s head of HR?”
“Division Head Kang Baek-hyeon.”
The Chairman’s eyes flashed. “Should I fire him?”
“No, no…” Director Choi stammered. “I don’t think that’s wise, Chairman.”
“Right…? We hired well.”
“Yes, I’m sure we did.”
Having witnessed Chairman Yoo for decades, Director Choi could tell the man’s composure was shattered. The idea of his granddaughter’s romance had rattled the second-ranked tycoon.
Finally, Director Choi dared to ask, “Sir, shall I discreetly look into him?”
“Absolutely not!”
Yoo Jin-gap’s eyes blazed. “If you do, Sia—Sia would….” He couldn’t bring himself to say “premarital pregnancy” aloud.
He gasped for breath, then forced himself back to reason. “Director Choi.”
“Yes?”
“We’ll do this then…” He issued a secret directive.
An order he’d normally never give, yet given his state, Director Choi understood.
“Can you manage it?”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“And make sure none of my sons or grandsons learn of it.”
“Of course.”
Thus, a covert project to unmask the “wolf” who’d captured his granddaughter’s heart went into effect.
Back at the restaurant near Sinsa Station.
“…What is this?”
Left alone, Sia stared at the entrance in a daze. “He really left?”
Song Jin-seong had taken his coat and bag—office emergency meant no return to the table.
“But I barely got to explain…”
In a strange twist, the youngest daughter of HR Group had been reduced to a vain, extravagant twenty-something.
“Did he really think all my designer pieces were rentals?”
She opened her phone’s photo gallery. Her home showroom—vast enough to dwarf most living rooms—displayed walls lined with designer bags and shoes, racks of clothing costing millions of won each.
In her garage—Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Range Rovers, Aston Martins—and, for her 24th birthday, her great-uncle had gifted her Korea’s only one Bugatti Chiron.
Beyond that, her grandfather’s Naegok-dong estate included a private villa built solely for her. The land alone was worth hundreds of billions of won.
‘How can I clear this up?’
Frankly, she didn’t mind being thought extravagant. It meant she understood money—just on a different scale.
Ding—! Her phone buzzed.
[From: Song Jin-seong: Sia, the bill was ₩65,000, right?]
[Song Jin-seong: I had the pasta and you had the steak.]
[Song Jin-seong sent you ₩27,500.]
[Song Jin-seong: We didn’t open the wine, so refund that.]
“…Ha!”
Sia laughed softly.
Not only had he split the bill precisely, he’d insisted on refunding the unopened wine—thrifty to the last drop.
‘Is this the first person like him I’ve ever met?’
She’d never formally dated anyone—only casual flings or setups. Those men were heirs and CEOs, all wealthy. Dutch pay? She’d only seen that in dramas.
Yet in this moment, Sia felt something unexpected:
‘Wow, Assistant Manager Song is…’
Her lips curved in a small, delighted smile.