Seoryeong clutched her scraped knee and let out a hollow laugh. By this point, no matter how blind he claimed to be, she was convinced there was someone helping him.

Even so, watching that man’s back grow more and more distant, carrying not the faintest trace of warmth, she found her lower lip itching. She pressed it down hard with her front teeth.

He only opens himself to one person. Absurd as it is, Lee Wooshin is, in truth, only searching for me. That alone seemed to fill her poor, starved heart. Each time she saw the man pass by her as if she were a stranger, with her right in front of him, she didn’t feel insulted—on the contrary, a jet-black thrill ran up her spine.

Maybe what she had wanted from the very start was this sort of compensation. That realization struck her like a wave.

Even when her chest chilled at the sight of him showing not a drop of kindness, she found herself perversely satisfied that he never reached his hand carelessly toward some other woman. The memory of her once-tender husband kept rising up, shrinking her heart tighter and tighter.

Compared to this present coldness, Kim Hyun’s devotion and Lee Wooshin’s scoldings... were different somehow. Warmer, more comfortable. She could no longer deny that she had always been treated as someone special....

“......”

Seoryeong slowly stood and began gathering the fallen laundry again. She blinked now and then, pressing down on her burning eyes.

I was his target.

Just a target—that fact made her feel utterly pitiful, stabbing at her insides without mercy. But now those words read a little differently.

I was Lee Wooshin’s one and only target.

“You’re my mission. The heaviest burden I carry.”

Squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again, she calmly collected every last thing scattered on the ground.

Then, straightening her back, she lifted her gaze to the morning sky. Her eyes were firm.

***

“There’s a guest in the parlor.”

A middle-aged woman handed her a tea tray as she spoke.

“So be sure this tea goes only to Solzhenitsyn.”

Seoryeong’s flat eyes shifted to the ornate tea set. On the European-style rack, cups hung like pleated skirts, neat and orderly. When the woman lifted the lid of the pot as if to demonstrate, steam curled up like a shimmering mirage. The smoke drifted through the air like burning incense, filling it with a sweet scent.

“And you—remain by Solzhenitsyn’s side. The effect will kick in quickly.”

“...Yes.”

Seoryeong lifted only the corner of her lips in a faint smile.

Filth. The peace of the nation, the greed of those in power, the ambitions of individuals—when all of it combined, she could see all too clearly just how far humans could fall.

Suddenly, Ju Seolheon’s cold face flashed across her mind. Seoryeong pressed her trembling lips tighter. Not yet... she hadn’t heard anything from him yet. She shoved the rising emotions deep into some corner of herself.

As she walked down the corridor lined with red carpet and drew near the parlor, murmured voices reached her ears. She knocked lightly. “Come in,” came the indifferent reply.

Careful not to let the cups rattle, Seoryeong passed the Victorian furniture. When she slid the tray closer, the chatter cut off abruptly, and a stranger’s gaze turned her way.

She could feel his eyes land on Natalia’s face, her neck, her chest, but she placed the teapot down as if it were nothing.

Ahem. The man cleared his throat, ears flushed red.

“By the way, how’d you hurt your eyes?”

“A shard grazed one, and the other’s from post-concussion aftereffects.”

“Will they heal completely?”

“Well, that’s something only time will tell.”

Her hand tightened on the handle of the cup. She glanced at Wooshin, who sat in nothing but a thin shirt, idly shaking his crossed leg. The way he tossed out half-hearted responses made him look lazy, even insolent.

Seoryeong rose lightly on her toes, stepping carefully. She was just close enough to see the crown of his neatly trimmed head when—

“So, you’ve no plans to marry? Because of your eyes?”

“I’ve got plenty of plans. Think about it all the time.”

“Huh?”

“Never forgotten, not for a moment, that I’m a married man.”

“...What?”

“I’ve been married twice.”

“What?!”

His old schoolmate’s eyes bulged wide. Twice? Already, in that short time? As he kept pressing in disbelief, Wooshin massaged his shoulder and answered.

“That’s my one and only point of pride.”

“Heh...! So where’s the wife then, while you’re here recuperating alone?”

“......”

Wooshin only twitched his foot, lips quirking as he twirled the tassel on the cushion corner.

“Don’t tell me—she left you over your eyes? Ran away? No, that doesn’t add up... She’d have more to gain sticking by you, sharing the inheritance. Or maybe she got caught screwing some other—”

Then, suddenly serious, Wooshin flung the cushion right into his friend’s face.

“Friend, watch your mouth.”

“O-oh....” 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

“And who says I don’t have a wife. She’s right nearby.”

Startled, Seoryeong spilled the tea on his ankle. Damn...! The man hit by the cushion groaned, and Wooshin, who had been lazily circling his foot, froze.

Flustered, she hurried to wipe his soaked ankle, but his head tilted at a strange angle. Even with his eyes covered, his cold gaze seemed to pierce straight through her.

“I’m sorry,” Seoryeong whispered, covering his ankle ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ with a napkin. The sight of the faint burn on his skin wouldn’t leave her eyes.

“Hey, master—”

“Don’t call me master.”

His brow deeply furrowed, Wooshin stared off into the air. The silence dragged on until it suffocated, and then he suddenly seized Natalia’s hand, running his fingers over the tips and the shape of her nails.

Seoryeong flinched, yanking her hand back, but it was only after several seconds. His grip had been so hard her whole hand ached from the blood cut off.

Wooshin lingered over the sensation, then slowly curled his now-empty hand into a fist.

“Natalia Yegorova.”

He spoke the unfamiliar name with a cold edge.

“You hiding something from me?”

Seoryeong swallowed dryly, staring up at him.

“You don’t cut your nails much, do you.”

“...What?”

“What kind of hand cream do you use?”

“......”

“Wherever you heard whatever you did—I’d rather you didn’t. Don’t do anything. Anything at all.”

“......”

“I’m sensitive about fakes.”

His brow furrowed hard, displeasure plain. Seoryeong couldn’t understand why he was suddenly being so sharp.

From then on, Wooshin clamped his mouth shut, sinking into a terrifying calm. The guest only sweated bullets, sipping his tea, while Wooshin sat upright, lost in thought.

Even in the chilled silence, Seoryeong dutifully finished setting the tea set. Just as she was about to leave, Wooshin, groping at the table, lifted a cup of hot tea to his lips—then poured it straight over the back of his own hand.

“Hey—!”

His friend jolted up in shock, and Seoryeong froze. But Wooshin didn’t flinch, only kept his eyes locked on Natalia.

“Wipe it again.”

His frigid voice snapped her back to herself. She blinked rapidly, grabbing a napkin, but he snatched it first.

“Your hands aren’t stuck there for nothing.”

Seoryeong clenched her jaw. Unless he’d lost his mind—why was he acting like some rich piece of trash? Pressing her lips tight, she wiped the wet hand just as before.

Each time she did, faint furrows creased Wooshin’s brow, then smoothed, then deepened again, his turmoil on full display. He scrunched his nose hard.

Then, without warning, he grabbed a fistful of Natalia’s hair and yanked, as if checking something. Ah...! Seoryeong cried out reflexively, and his lips curved in a slow smile.

At last, Lee Wooshin had gone insane. He had to be. He wasn’t this crude, this vicious. Indifference she could bear, but twisted attention was worse. Her heart dropped like a stone.

“Sorry, but let’s call it a day.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t see you out. My body’s like this.”

Like picking through a cat’s fur, he slid his fingers through Natalia’s hair, combing it back. Seoryeong clenched her fists, steadying herself. It had been only an instant—but what had she missed?

“Uh? Oh... yeah.”

Wooshin’s old schoolmate grabbed his coat, scratching his chin. What the hell was this?

Yuri had some pretty woman kneeling, gripping the back of her head... Was this some kind of perversion?

Was this really that virgin bastard who used to say, ‘My dick leans so much I’ve never even gotten off’?

The man rose awkwardly but didn’t forget the parting jab of friendship.

“Shame the talk was short, but now I get why you’ve married twice, Yuri. Your wandering dick—I’ll be chewing that over at the next reunion. Looks like it’s had time to grow straight again.”

He winked wickedly and left the parlor.

Finally alone, Seoryeong felt no need to hold back. Rising quick and sharp, she shoved Wooshin back into the sofa by his shoulder.

“Leave Russia at once.”

“Ow.”

He suddenly played at being hurt, all the while twirling strands of her hair.

“Russia will chain you down with pregnancy. So withdraw as soon as you can.”

“Why should I?”

“You just swallowed an aphrodisiac.”

Wooshin leaned back comfortably against the sofa and laughed. The low rumble in his throat carried a strange satisfaction.

“You’ve got a funny way of crossing lines.”

“I trust you understood me.”

“Oh, I understood. You mean if I get pregnant, they’ll tie me down.”

“What...!”

“Keep me from ever leaving. Fuck, sounds like a dream.”

All trace of his sharpness vanished. Seoryeong’s breath came rough, ragged.

Wooshin gave a dry laugh, lacing his hands behind his head. “Feels like the whole world’s playing me for a fool,” he muttered.

“Natalia. You know the difference between a veteran and a rookie?”

“......”

“It’s in the details. The details.”

He laughed hollowly once more, then crossed the broad parlor, leaving his cane—always in his hand until now—lying behind. He drew the curtains, locked the door.

Pulling out his in-ear, he yanked it free and tossed it into the trash without hesitation. Then he crooked his finger.

“Come here a moment.”