When You Forget Me (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 7

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Seung Yoon haphazardly shoved his sports car—used strictly for personal purposes—into the garage and leapt out in a hurry.

He never dreamed his father, Han Ji Chang, would summon him on a weekday evening. Having left work far earlier than usual, he’d booked a room and was thoroughly enjoying himself when, out of nowhere, disaster struck.

His secretary, Jeong Min Jae, who had been waiting at the front gate, sprinted all the way to the garage, arms laden with a shirt, tie, and jacket like a butler.

Seung Yoon yanked off his satin jacket and flashy shirt, snatched a fresh shirt from Jeong Min Jae’s arm, shoved his arms into it, and snapped irritably,

“What’s gotten into that busy old man all of a sudden, wanting to have dinner together?”

His irritation, punctuated here and there with profanities, instantly spilled over onto his secretary.

“Isn’t this exactly the kind of thing you’re supposed to check and report on ahead of time? Huh? Is this really all you’re capable of, Secretary Jung?”

Seung Yoon deftly readjusted the knot of his tie once more. Thanks to his father’s obsession with perfection, he’d developed the habit of meticulously preparing himself before ever stepping into his father’s presence.

“I’m sorry. I only just received word myself that the assemblyman’s dinner engagement was canceled…”

“Is that even an excuse? … Forget it. We’ll see about this later.”

With that, Seung Yoon snatched his jacket and stormed out of the garage.

Because of his family’s conservative values, he couldn’t even listen to music according to his own taste.

He had no choice but to indulge in it secretly. Seung Yoon masked the lingering scent of debauchery from the club with perfume before entering the house, though he didn’t forget to tuck the shirttail poking out above his waistband back in.

His mother, Jeon Su Kyeong, who had been fretting over her absent son, brightened the moment she saw Seung Yoon.

“Seung Yoon’s here.”

At those words, Han Ji Chang, who had just picked up his spoon, looked up with a displeased expression. Jeon Su Kyeong cheerfully smoothed the shoulders of Seung Yoon, who was sauntering in with his usual nonchalance.

“Why so late? Are you the only one running the company?”

“Back-to-back meetings.”

Seung Yoon shrugged as he spoke. Han Ji Chang scrutinized him thoroughly with his characteristically stern gaze and finally uttered,

“A man who actually works for a living shouldn’t wear such overpowering cologne. Change it.”

Seung Yoon’s face stiffened momentarily but quickly relaxed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that cheap cologne really such a big deal right now?”

Jeon Su Kyeong interjected with a petulant tone.

“There were articles about Deawon Group in three different outlets this morning alone.”

“It’s bound to happen anyway—we’ll soon be in-laws.”

Rumors about Chairman Song had been swirling ever since the arranged marriage was announced.

Those suspicions could easily be covered up. More importantly, they’d already decided to push forward with the wedding despite knowing the risks involved. That wasn’t the real issue.

“If you’re so concerned about other people’s opinions, you’d better start by improving your relationship with your fiancée.”

Seung Yoon, who had just been about to grab a spoonful of rice to appease his hunger, froze instantly at those words. It felt less like eating rice and more like chewing sand.

“They say Chairman Song is a man full of secrets. There’s talk that his business capital originally came from Song Eun Chae’s mother.”

“That’s absurd… If that were true, he wouldn’t be lying so low and submissive like that…”

Seung Yoon scoffed dismissively, his tone subtly belittling her, prompting Han Ji Chang to fix him with a sharp, stern look. Seung Yoon immediately clamped his mouth shut.

“Even if that’s not the case, Song’s got only that one daughter. If she decides to protest and refuses to marry, it’s only a matter of time before everything gets endlessly postponed. At least pretend to humor her.”

“Am I really that flawed…?”

Seung Yoon tried to wriggle out like a slippery eel, but Han Ji Chang wasn’t letting it slide.

“First, clean up your entanglements with other women. Stop reeking of scandal.”

“……”

“She’s nothing like the women you’ve been seeing. She’s not demanding, and that’s more than enough.”

At that moment, Seung Yoon’s appetite vanished completely. His father, who had been coldly calculating every detail of this marriage alliance, apparently held Song Eun Chae in surprisingly high regard—as an exception.

And she really was different. From the very beginning, her detached attitude made it clear she held no expectations of him whatsoever. More than that, even when shamed or belittled over his womanizing, her dignity remained utterly unshaken.

There were countless sheltered princesses in this world, equally naive under identical circumstances. Occasionally, one would boast about living without privilege due to her unique background—but that was usually just self-deception.

Song Eun Chae was neither. She was more like a princess who’d weathered every storm imaginable. She’d pricked his conscience—a feeling he’d never experienced before—and yet, strangely, he found himself wanting to pretend he hadn’t noticed. She was, simply put, a strange woman.

Moreover, the bodyguard constantly hovering beside her was deeply irritating.

No matter that the humiliating incident at the hotel had been ordered by Eun Chae herself—it was still a clear overstep for a mere bodyguard.

He’d brushed it off, reasoning it might be Chairman Song’s indirect warning about his complicated love life, but it left a lingering bad taste.

All he’d gained from dinner was irritation. Seung Yoon, trying to soothe his unsettled stomach, stepped outside and called out to the unfortunate Secretary Jung.

“How dare that mere bodyguard act so arrogant?”

“Sir?”

“Find out everything about this guy.”

Trending

Secretary Jung absentmindedly took the business card stamped with the name Kwon Gi Ju.

“Everything—when he joined Deawon, his family connections, what kind of background his family comes from—get it all. Understood?”

Seung Yoon ground his teeth, recalling the image of Eun Chae vanishing under that man’s protection.

After finishing her preparations to go out, Eun Chae hesitated for a moment before reaching for the doorknob.

She extended her hand, then pulled it back; lifted her foot, then set it down again. As if any of that could undo what had already happened. She let out a wry chuckle, opened the door, and walked downstairs.

Kwon Gi Ju stood waiting at the front entrance.

She’d been curious—what expression would he wear, what look would be in his eyes, given the choice she’d offered him, even if just as a second option?

She’d even suspected he might make an uncharacteristic excuse and avoid the situation altogether.

Yet here he was, perfectly composed—as if nothing had happened, even offering a quiet, respectful bow.

Eun Chae gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. His response was as unaffected as if her inconsiderate proposal couldn’t possibly wound him.

Under his escort, she stepped outside the front door. They crossed the garden in silence and continued toward the car parked at the gate without exchanging a word.

Eun Chae slid into the back seat with practiced ease.

“To MK Hotel.”

She spoke to Kwon Gi Ju, who’d taken the driver’s seat but was merely gripping the steering wheel, unsure of the destination. His eyes rolled toward her through the rearview mirror.

After a brief, quiet laugh, Gi Ju started the engine and gently pressed the accelerator.

When they hit their first red light after merging onto the road, he reached into his inner jacket pocket.

He pulled out a piece of gum, popped it into his mouth, and chewed quietly—only his jaw and cheeks moving soundlessly. His indifferent eyes, focused on the road ahead, never glanced back through the rearview mirror.

After stopping at a few more traffic signals, they finally arrived at MK Hotel. He calmly escorted her from the parking lot all the way to the lobby.

Just a few steps ahead in the lobby, Eun Chae suddenly stopped. Gi Ju halted two steps behind her.

She turned to face him. Gi Ju slowly chewed his gum and lowered his gaze, as if asking, “Do you need something?”

“Stop following me.”

“……”

“Han Seung Yoon doesn’t like you, so stay out of his sight.”

At that, the man chewing gum let out a faint chuckle. Eun Chae paid it no mind and turned away. She started walking toward the elevators but abruptly looked back.

“Oh, and don’t wait for me.”

With that, Eun Chae stepped into the elevator alone. They stared at each other through the open doors. He remained impassive—until just before the doors closed, when he casually ran a hand along his neck. Eun Chae noticed, but the doors shut anyway.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Gi Ju lifted his eyes. He watched until the elevator carrying Eun Chae stopped at the guest room floor. He pushed aside one side of his jacket, slipped a hand into his pants pocket, and observed the floor number. Then he turned and walked toward the exit.

A front desk clerk seemed to recognize him and offered an awkward nod. Gi Ju returned it with a curt nod of his own before stepping outside the hotel. The hotel’s lights struggled to brighten the night.

Traffic on the road gradually thinned, the chill of dawn began to spread, and unexpected rain poured down—but he stood there motionless. At one point, he instinctively reached into his inner pocket for a lighter, but that was all.

Just before sunrise, Gi Ju suddenly thought: perhaps he no longer held any presence in her eyes.

Song Eun Chae’s feelings should have been fierce hatred or pent-up resentment.

If only that were true, his focus wouldn’t have wavered like this.

His body grew cold from the sense of loss crashing down with the rain.

Gi Ju let out a hollow laugh and swept his rain-soaked hair back.

The gum he’d been chewing had long since lost all its flavor.

Thud.

Seung Yoon pushed open the dark brown door, massaged his stiff neck, and sat down heavily on the bed, lifting his gaze.

A silver-toned table held a tablet PC and a laptop, buried under a mess of documents. If he looked higher—from the papers to the ceiling—he’d see the large, low-chroma lighting fixture installed just days ago after he’d smashed the previous one for being “too bright.”

Sure, this was his own room—more familiar than a hotel suite—but that stiffness in his neck wouldn’t ease. He’d deliberately come home, postponing his morning schedule to catch up on lost sleep, yet somehow felt even more exhausted.

‘I’m tired—let’s just rest here.’

It was all her fault.

Seung Yoon, recalling her composed voice, furrowed his brow and flopped backward onto the bed.

Yesterday, throughout the entire meal, Song Eun Chae hadn’t spoken a word—until that moment, when she finally broke her silence. Her eyes, which had avoided his all evening, briefly met his. Then she waited calmly for his reply.

He, in turn, did exactly as Eun Chae had moments before: he fell silent. They were in a hotel restaurant, so he didn’t even ask what she meant.

She waited patiently through the long silence, eyes lowered, her long lashes casting shadows on her pale skin. With a delicate hand, she gently swept her jet-black hair behind her ear.

She was aloof even while tempting him. In truth, she clearly hadn’t expected rejection—she hadn’t even asked, as if assuming he’d naturally agree. Her words were more of a declaration than a request.

Normally, he’d have been the one to make such a suggestion—but this time, he followed her lead.

In the end, he’d simply acquiesced to a strategic relationship. Hence the rushed wedding date and this clumsy attempt at seduction. Thinking this, he entered the Royal Suite and immediately removed his suit jacket.

‘I thought you’d be more of a prude, but I’ll admit your effort is commendable.’

Better to wag your tail and seek favor than offer futile resistance.

ads

Seung Yoon sneered at her back as she walked confidently past the sitting room. Eun Chae, who had also removed her jacket and draped it over her arm, slowly turned around.

‘I’ll take this room.’

She nudged her chin toward the room behind her and met his eyes.

Seung Yoon, confused, raised one eyebrow. She continued matter-of-factly,

‘If you get bored, call one of your usual women. I don’t care.’

With a smooth turn, Eun Chae paused briefly and glanced back.

‘Oh, and I’m a light sleeper—so please keep things reasonably quiet.’

Then she walked away, leaving Seung Yoon behind.

Seung Yoon quickly moved to follow her—but stopped himself. He suddenly felt as if he’d been abandoned. As if he’d wanted something he’d only imagined she’d given.

…What?

Outraged and bewildered, he ground his molars, paced in circles, and finally stomped into the bedroom opposite the one she’d entered.

Was she playing hard to get now that the situation had escalated? Did she expect him to humble himself and come to her since they’d come this far?

He scoffed. Convinced she’d eventually come to him, he waited.

But hours passed, and she never showed—not even stepping into the sitting room.

What exactly was she trying to do?

At first, he was stunned. As time dragged on, fury surged through him.

If he bothered to replay the events, she’d only said, “Let’s rest here”—nothing more. It was her fault for making him misunderstand. Yet confronting her would only make him look ridiculous.

After all, Song Eun Chae had spoken as if she truly didn’t care—even suggesting he call another woman—because she never expected him to actually desire her.

At first, he’d intended to show off exactly as she’d said—but then it felt like even that would just play into her hands, so he dropped the idea.

He even considered leaving her alone—but stayed a little longer to demonstrate composure. Somehow, he ended up spending the entire day wide awake, and by morning, he even politely called a driver to take him home.

To any observer, they’d spent the night together—but he hadn’t gotten any real sleep.

“My mood is just…”

Seung Yoon, lying on the bed and unfastening his watch, hurled the titanium timepiece into the closet.

Thud!

“Shitty.”

Watching the decorative objects tumble from the closet shelf to the floor, Seung Yoon cursed under his breath.

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