Yeonwoo darted a glance around him. There wasn’t anyone else in the officetel hallway, but there were security cameras on every floor, and a building manager on duty on the first floor. They wouldn’t be able to lay hands on him too recklessly.
They were probably just here to issue a warning—trying to scare him a little.
“I’ve already listed the officetel for a quick sale. As soon as the money comes in, I’ll send it over. You already received part of the interest payment, didn’t you?”
“Like I said—we’re way past the deadline. The bastard who borrowed the money disappeared, and we’re just supposed to sit back and wait politely?”
Suddenly, the alpha stepped right in and tapped Yeonwoo on the cheek.
“Don’t touch me.”
Yeonwoo immediately slapped his hand away.
“Hah. Feisty, huh?”
“That debt was a scam you orchestrated among yourselves in the first place.”
As Yeonwoo snapped back with a sharp retort, a rough hand grabbed a fistful of his hair.
“Argh!”
“The fuck are you raising your voice for? Think I’m easy?”
“Let go of me!”
“If your useless old man is skulking around gambling halls relying on his wife and kid, how is that our fault for lending him the cash?”
“So you knew he was worthless and still loaned him ten billion—ugh!”
“Shut it.”
The alpha yanked Yeonwoo’s head back, bringing their faces inches apart, scanning him slowly. His collar reeked of overpowering cologne, old sweat, and the residual pheromones of too many bodies.
“Hm. Yeah, now that I look, you really do take after Kim Sunyoung.”
Yeonwoo stared straight back, refusing to avert his gaze.
“Oh yeah, how’s Kim Sunyoung doing with her treatment? Gave her face a nice colorful paint job—real pretty.”
The alpha chuckled like he was recalling a fond memory.
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What? What did you just say? You hit my mom?”
“Hahaha! Shit, kid’s got a mouth on him.”
“What if I did? Huh?”
Yeonwoo shoved the alpha’s hand away and shook his head free, but the two men quickly encircled him again.
The beta stepped in, tapping Yeonwoo’s cheek.
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do?”
“Touch my mom again—just try it. If you go after her again, I swear to fuck, I won’t let a single one of you off the hook.”
Yeonwoo slapped the beta’s hand away hard enough to make a sharp sound, enunciating each word with icy clarity.
The beta flexed the fingers of his shoved-back hand and narrowed his eyes.
“You act cute and suddenly think you can crawl over people, huh?”
His fist slammed into the left side of Yeonwoo’s face.
Thud!
The sickening crack of bone-on-bone was followed by Yeonwoo’s lean frame crashing backward.
“Guhk!”
The man gave him no chance to recover. He kicked Yeonwoo hard—his ribs, his stomach—spreading a blunt pain through his side and gut.
“Your mother’s got one hell of a story too. That husband of hers? Useless.”
“Ah—! S-stop…!”
“All he does is crawl around gambling dens.”
Each blow made Yeonwoo curl tighter, cradling his abdomen, groaning in pain. He was so overwhelmed, the idea of fighting back didn’t even occur to him.
What if they beat his mom like this, too? What if, when he failed to pay, they went back to her?
Even mid-assault, that spiraling fear tore through his mind.
“Still, the son seems to be living okay, huh? But when your brainless old man blabs that you make good money—what did he think would happen? Huh?”
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? You can’t fight here!”
Just then, the building manager burst from the elevator, shouting.
The two men looked up from where Yeonwoo lay, bloodied on the floor. The moment their eyes met, the manager hesitated, slowing his pace.
“You’re not even residents here, are you? Stop that right now!”
“Ah, just a little… disagreement. Nothing serious.”
“If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police. Got it?”
“We were on our way out anyway.”
As the manager pulled out his phone, stumbling over his words, the men finally backed off.
“Sir, can you stand?”
“Mr. Hong Yeonwoo. Next time, let’s meet at the café, yeah? Sit down, have a nice cup of coffee together, hmm?”
They spit on the floor where Yeonwoo lay and strolled casually out of the building. Only then did Yeonwoo accept the manager’s help and rise to his feet.
“Are you all right? How did guys like that even get in here… Should I call the police?”
The manager, who clearly recognized Yeonwoo, looked at him with concern.
“…No, it’s fine.”
Yeonwoo shook his head. He knew the police wouldn’t do anything useful. He also declined the manager’s offer to bring some ointment, so the man instead insisted on helping carry the boxes and bags Yeonwoo had brought back from the apartment into his unit.
After thanking him, Yeonwoo went straight to the bathroom. He ignored the luggage and turned to the mirror.
His lip had split from the punch, dried blood caked at the corner. A bruise was already blooming along his jaw.
‘Oh yeah, how’s Kim Sunyoung doing? Gave her face a nice colorful paint job.’
That bastard’s words gnawed at him like a parasite.
“…What the fuck am I supposed to do.”
If they couldn’t get money out of him, they’d go after his mother again. And next time, it might not stop at just a few bruises.
Money. He needed money, no matter what it took.
He clenched his trembling fists. His entire body was shaking—fear-driven urgency pounding through his head. All he could think about now was where to find money.
Even with the full loan from the bank and the officetel sold off, it still wouldn’t be enough. Interest was racking up by the second.
Even picking up another part-time job after café hours wouldn’t let him cover the debt within a month or two.
‘Mr. Hong Yeonwoo. Next time, let’s meet at the café, yeah? Sit down, have a nice cup of coffee together, hmm?’
They knew where he worked.
This time they’d waited at his door. Next time, they’d show up at the café.
Yeonwoo ground his teeth. There was only one real option left—he’d have to give up the café.
Technically, the café belonged to Chahyun. But the lease rights, the business itself, the branding and growth—it had all been Yeonwoo’s work. He had a right to sell the spot and claim goodwill payment from the next tenant.
And with a café this popular, in such a prime location, he could easily get up to two hundred million won in goodwill. That kind of lump sum could be enough to fully repay the loan sharks, and maybe even allow him to open a small café in a cheaper area afterward.
Normally, he’d need to find a new tenant first to receive the payment, but if he asked Chahyun directly, maybe he’d agree to advance the amount, or help with the sale.
Yeonwoo stared at the boxes stacked haphazardly in the officetel living room. Then, he pulled out his phone.
He called Chahyun.
—“The number you have dialed is unavailable…”
Still nothing. No reply to his texts either.
Then he’d have to go in person.
“…Fucking hell. This is the worst.”
He was the one who insisted on breaking up. And now here he was—crawling back for help.
He hated how pathetic this made him feel. But pride didn’t matter anymore. As embarrassing as it was to go back on his words, if it was Chahyun, he wouldn’t be turned away.
Yeonwoo scrubbed the blood and dirt off his face. He threw on a mask and cap to hide the bruises—thankfully the swelling hadn’t reached his eyes yet.
Once ready, he called Chahyun’s secretary.
—“Yes, Mr. Hong Yeonwoo.”
Luckily, the call connected.
“Hello, sorry to call you out of the blue. I just had a quick question. If I wanted to shut down the café, who should I contact about the goodwill transfer?”
Yeonwoo started with the business talk—urgent and to the point. The secretary had helped with almost all the paperwork when they’d opened Neo Belle, so she’d know.
—“I’d need to ask the Director first, Mr. Yeonwoo.”
“Is Baek Chahyun at the office? He hasn’t answered any of my calls.”
—“The Director? He hasn’t returned to work yet, so he’s not at his desk.”
“…Then where is he? Is he on a business trip?”
There was a pause. Long enough for Yeonwoo to start asking why she was hesitating, when the secretary finally spoke again.
—“Mr. Yeonwoo… You didn’t know?”
“…Know what?”
—“The Director is currently hospitalized. He was in an accident.”