After Father's death, everything falls apart. My stepmother seizes the inheritance and leaves us with nothing. Just when I think we can finally breathe, fate hits us harder—Dongju's accident leaves him clinging to life. With hospital bills piling up, despair becomes my only currency. Then, the President Director makes an offer I can't refuse: money for Dongju's treatment, in exchange for marrying his son, Byun Baekhoon—a man whispered to be gay, and heir to one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country. I sign the contract with trembling hands, thinking it's just a business deal. But Baekhoon isn't who I expected. Behind his cold eyes and calculated words, he hides something darker—something dangerous. And the more I try to survive this marriage, the more it feels like I'm burying myself alive.
Lihat lebih banyakBaekhoon lies down on the bed. I quickly grab a thin shirt for him, then reach for the thermometer and paracetamol from the first-aid kit. He’s completely helpless. Seeing him like this makes my chest ache too. I’ve already set a bottle of water and a glass on the nightstand. In his condition, he needs plenty of fluids, especially water, to help lower his body temperature.“Change into this. It’s thinner. If you wear something thick, your body heat won’t escape, and your fever won’t go down. When you’re sick, don’t wrap yourself in blankets. Drink plenty of water to stabilize your temperature,” I ramble on, handing him the thin white shirt.“Can’t I just go naked?”“What?”“Isn’t it easier for your body temperature to drop if you’re naked?”Well… he’s not wrong. B-but… naked? If he’s naked and I’m sleeping next to him… is that okay?“You’re sure you want to be n-naked? Baekhoon, don’t be perverted!” I replied cautiously, my heart racing.“Hey, what’s going through your head, huh? I ju
“I know what he meant.” His interruption is clipped, his tone flat, almost emotionless. “And I know exactly how he looked at you.”My breath catches. So he did notice. For a while, silence consumes us again. The car moves steadily along the road, but in here, the air feels taut. Then, Baekhoon exhales slowly, as if restraining something that threatens to spill.“From now on,” he said, quiet but firm, “if there are meetings with that man, I won’t let you go in there alone.” There’s a different edge in his voice — not only anger, but something deeper, something that sounds like fear of losing me.I lower my head, trying to hide the small smile tugging at my lips. His jealousy, cold and subtle, feels unexpectedly warm.-o0o-After returning from Daegu, I feel like my body is falling apart. Every step aches, as if my bones are splintering from within. And Baekhoon — he looks just as broken. The moment we step into the house, he doesn’t say a word. He simply collapses onto the bed, still i
Once again, he helps Dongju and me, even if he leans on the weight of our marriage to do it. Still — Baekhoon has given us more support than I can ever repay. Especially Dongju. I will never forget his help until the day I die.“You two seem very united, even though your marriage is only a contract,” Mr. Ahn said suddenly.I freeze. A contract? How does this man know about that? But that was then. Now… now we are something else. A real husband and wife. No longer an arrangement, no longer a performance. I immediately turn to Baekhoon, searching for his reaction. He does look surprised, but within the blink of an eye he masks it, regaining his composure. I am momentarily stunned — if he ever chose to become an actor, he would surely succeed.“Forgive me if I’m being rude,” Mr. Ahn said, his tone sharp yet casual, as though testing the waters. “But I’ve heard a few stories about you. Is it true that you married Miss Lee Yongju only to cover up your scandal?”My chest tightens. What is h
The car hums steadily along the highway, cityscapes fading into rolling hills. Inside, silence thickens like fog. I rest my head against the window, watching the blur of trees, while Baekhoon sits beside me, arms crossed, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He hasn’t said much since breakfast.I sigh softly, deciding to break the stillness. “So… what’s the plan once we reach Daegu?”“Meeting with the RMC branch board,” he replied without looking at me. His voice is clipped, efficient. “We’ll review JJ Group’s debt structure and renegotiate the timeline.”Business. Always business. I press my lips together, then try a lighter tone. “Mr. Ahn Minseok seems… approachable. For a CEO, he’s not that intimidating.”Baekhoon’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. His eyes remain on the road ahead. “Approachable?” he echoed flatly.“Yes. I mean — he was friendly, at least.”A pause. Then, sharp as glass: “He mistook you for being single.” The words hang heavy in the air. My heart stutters.I glance a
Earlier, I was the one giving Baekhoon the silent treatment. Now it’s his turn. Since leaving RMC, he’s barely spoken a word to me. Even during dinner, he keeps his lips sealed, his demeanor cold — just like in the early days of our marriage. Starting a conversation feels impossible. Every attempt dies in my throat. What is this? Payback? Or is he just in a foul mood after that meeting?Annoyance prickles under my skin. I grab my phone, open YouTube, and scroll for something — anything — that might cheer me up. Instead, the homepage is flooded with videos about us. Headlines. News clips. Gossip. Because I’ve watched too many of them before, the algorithm won’t let me forget. I hit play on one, letting the volume rise, loud enough for him to hear. The voices echo through the room: his name, my name, endless commentary.But Baekhoon doesn’t react. Not even a glance. He stays fixed on his laptop, the glow of the screen painting his face in cold light. His fingers move steadily, typing, d
The bus? I frown, confused at first — until the memory surfaces. He’s the man I once mistook for a student. That day, the bus braked suddenly and I lost my balance. He told me to grab onto him, and I did — clutching his arm instead of falling flat to the floor.“Ah, yes — it was you on the bus. Thank you for that. I probably would have ended up on the ground if not for your arm.”“My name is Ahn Minseok,” he said, extending his hand. His smile is warm, but the weight of authority lingers in his eyes.“Lee Yongju,” I replied with equal composure, returning his handshake. My smile doesn’t waver. It feels unexpectedly reassuring to meet again, this time in a place of polished power.Only now do I realize he holds an executive seat at RMC. His features remind me of Baekhoon’s — youthful, almost boyish — but his presence is unmistakably that of a senior leader. His appearance today, sharp and commanding in formal attire, contrasts so sharply with the casual figure on the bus that I barely
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