While Han-gyeom was having a meal with Ah-young and secretly exchanging messages with Kang Woo-chan, Seo Won, who remained in the office, was staring down at the documents on his desk, focusing intently on the sounds reaching his ears.
— Han-gyeom, try this too. The chef really outdid himself today!
— No, I’m good. I already ate everything.
— Huh? You’re done already? But you barely ate anything!
— You can eat my share, Ah-young.
— No way… You’re going to collapse at this rate. Just a little more, okay?
— Really, I’ve had enough…
— You used to love chopped steak, right? Come on, say ah—! Quick!
— Wait—no… Fine, fine, I’ll eat it myself, so stop shoving it in my face.
Just from the sound alone, the scene vividly formed in Seo Won’s mind: Ah-young trying to coax Han-gyeom with a tone full of concern, and Han-gyeom looking flustered, caught off guard.
Despite always speaking formally to each other, the two came across more like close friends—or even like affectionate siblings. That’s how casual and peaceful their conversation sounded.
‘Judging by their words alone, there was nothing suspicious about it. But maybe it was that very ordinariness that made it feel suspicious.’
It was as if they knew someone might be listening in—as if they were intentionally sticking to conversations that fit the context of “having a meal.” Just harmless chatter. No grumbling, no gossip, not even the kind of slip-ups people usually make when they’re relaxed.
Seo Won, sensing something off, continued listening quietly, a vague unease prickling in the back of his mind.
Before long, the sounds of the meal wrapped up, and there came the noise of dishes being cleared. Then, Jung Ah-young’s voice drifted in, saying she would wait outside, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. After that, the only sounds that could be heard were occasional noises from Han-gyeom using the bathroom—nothing more.
Just as Seo Won reached up to remove the earphones from his ears—
Click.
He heard something being lightly set down on the table.
Click.
A faint sound followed. The high-performance bug hidden near the table—close enough to capture even the softest noises—picked up the barely audible flick of Han-gyeom’s lighter.
— Haa…
A languid, drawn-out sigh.
Seo Won knew exactly what that sound meant—it was the way Han-gyeom exhaled cigarette smoke when he was at ease. Eyes slightly lowered, he would blow out a hazy plume of smoke, letting it drift gently across his face before it vanished.
He still hated cigarettes.
He couldn’t understand how someone could so casually smoke something that poisoned the body, corrupted healthy organs, and could even hasten death. Even secondhand smoke was undeniably harmful, and because of that, he had no intention of keeping smokers close. Everyone in this estate—from the guards to the servants—was a non-smoker by design.
But Cha Han-gyeom was the exception.
After all, as long as he didn’t have a seizure, his organs were robust enough to last a lifetime without falling ill. Whether he smoked one pack a day or two, his body would never suffer damage from it.
And Seo Won found himself genuinely drawn to “Cha Han-gyeom, the smoker.”
There was something about the unfiltered ease and drowsy air that enveloped Han-gyeom when he smoked—it always clouded Seo Won’s senses. The same man who usually carried a sharp edge, as though bristling with invisible thorns, would in those moments become utterly defenseless, as if he’d let everything go.
As if filling himself with the acrid smoke of that toxin was the only way he could find peace.
And every time that happened, Seo Won couldn’t take his eyes off him. It was like an addiction—he kept getting pulled in, his gaze helplessly drawn to the other man.
Lost in the image of Han-gyeom smoking, Seo Won gently set down the earphones and rose from his seat. He walked out of the office and made his way toward Han-gyeom’s bedroom.
“You’re here, Executive Director.”
In front of the bedroom, standing guard with another bodyguard, Jung Ah-young gave him a respectful bow.
“We just finished eating, actually.”
She smiled in that same bashful way she always did. Yet at the same time, she stole a quick glance at the other guard beside her.
Only Seo Won, Cha Han-gyeom, and Lim Du-hyuk knew that Jung Ah-young was actually a loyal ally of Kang Woo-chan and a spy planted inside this estate.
To the guard standing beside her—and everyone else in the house—Ah-young had simply been briefly under suspicion, but was now cleared and proven innocent. So it was no surprise that the guard, who had been casually chatting with her just moments ago, didn’t seem the least bit uneasy.
She had the face of someone who couldn’t tell a lie if her life depended on it—innocent, unassuming. But if you looked a little closer, she was sharper than anyone.
“Han-gyeom, Executive Director Seo is here,” she said, knocking on the door for him and opening it herself.
Her movements were effortless, her tone calm, her demeanor unchanged. On the surface, it looked like she’d done nothing more than enjoy a light meal and a casual chat with Han-gyeom. She didn’t seem like someone who had been up to anything suspicious.
‘Maybe I was overreacting.’
With that thought, Seo Won stepped into the bedroom. Inside, Han-gyeom had just finished a cigarette, pressing its glowing tip into the ashtray to snuff it out.
“What? Got something to say?”
As the door clicked shut behind him, Seo Won walked toward Han-gyeom. The other man was exhaling the last of the cigarette smoke.
“Thought I might get a short Guiding session.”
“I can go long too, you know.”
Han-gyeom grinned slyly at Seo Won’s words, deliberately suggestive. Then he leaned in to meet Seo Won’s lips. Still seated, he tilted his head up and parted his lips in response, welcoming the kiss.
Seo Won cradled the back of Han-gyeom’s head, feeling the faint minty hint of mouthwash through the smoke. He held him gently—not only to relieve the strain on his neck as Seo Won leaned down for the kiss, but also to guide his angle and keep his attention from straying elsewhere.
As their lips met, Seo Won’s hand reached toward the table—not toward the ashtray where the last tendrils of smoke still curled, but toward a palm-sized notepad lying just a bit farther away.
Seo Won’s sensitive fingertips skimmed across the top sheet of the uncovered notepad.
‘No sign of anything having been written.’
Cha Han-gyeom’s handwriting was small and neat, with barely any pressure behind it. Even if he had written something on this kind of paper, it would’ve left no indentation. But Jung Ah-young was different. Her handwriting was bold and quick, with strokes deep enough to leave a mark—at least on one or two sheets of this thin pad.
‘Maybe I was overthinking it.’
Since the negotiation over Jung Ah-young had concluded two days ago, Seo Won had assumed that if she and Han-gyeom ever had a moment alone, they would undoubtedly exchange some kind of secretive conversation.
He couldn’t interrogate Han-gyeom about it—part of the deal was that he wouldn’t pry. Still, there had to be more to Han-gyeom keeping Ah-young around than just protecting himself. Especially since even Kang Woo-chan had coldly refused her. It was even less likely to be out of sentiment.
So Seo Won had suspected they might be plotting something. But maybe that suspicion had been misplaced.
Just as he was about to withdraw his hand, his fingers froze. Something in the pad caught his attention.
While Seo Won had been in his office, this bedroom would’ve been the only plausible place for the two of them to have a private conversation. That’s precisely why he had intentionally left the notepad on the table.
He’d considered the possibility—if they tried to pass notes, they might accidentally leave behind some trace, just like the one he’d now found.
‘It’s thinner.’
The notepad was a palm-sized memo pad. Too small for an extended exchange—at most, a line or two could be scribbled before they’d have to tear off the page and use the next one.
And now, it was noticeably thinner. Not enough for someone to detect unless they had been paying close attention. But Seo Won had prepared it deliberately—there was no way he would have missed a detail like that.
He stared at Han-gyeom, who was still receiving his kiss. Through his half-lidded eyes, Seo Won could see the faint gleam of red in Han-gyeom’s.
‘What are you scheming right now?’
It was clear now: they had shared a private note-passing session, all while pretending to have a perfectly normal meal. What mattered wasn’t that they exchanged notes—it was what had been written in them.
Seo Won could guess why Han-gyeom would have wanted to talk to Jung Ah-young. It wasn’t hard to figure out who she was working with.
‘What are you and Kang Woo-chan plotting together?’
Seo Won didn’t like any of this. Even if Han-gyeom hadn’t figured out that the room was bugged, he had clearly acted with the assumption that Seo Won might be listening from somewhere. That’s why they resorted to written notes. The person at the other end of those messages could only be Kang Woo-chan.
He regretted having left Jung Ah-young’s fate in Han-gyeom’s hands.
Maybe he should’ve cut her off entirely—made her disappear from both their eyes for good.
‘No—this might actually work in my favor.’
The surge of irritation that had flared for a moment cooled swiftly. Seo Won’s blue eyes quietly studied Han-gyeom, who was still leisurely Guiding him with care.
‘This might give me a chance to find out what’s going on inside Cha Han-gyeom’s head.’
Now that he had decided to uncover everything about Han-gyeom, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to track down each of his schemes too. After all, that would be the truest glimpse into the workings of his mind.
