At Tae-moo’s narrowed gaze, Yeon-ha’s eyes trembled.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the edge of her dress, shaking as violently as her pounding heart.

“Why? Do you think I’m going to pull it down myself?”

There was a dangerous intimacy in his voice, as though he might lean down and lick away the sweat gathered between her br*asts.

The faint amusement in his voice seemed to sink slowly into her exposed chest.

From the moment he had saved her, her wildly beating heart had belonged to him.

It was a fate she had never been able to resist.

Without realizing it, the strength gradually drained from her hands.

The instant her hands fell away, something slipped into the hollow beneath his gaze.

“Ah—”

For a moment, she thought his hand had slipped inside her dress.

Swallowing back a startled gasp, she blinked rapidly at the sight of Tae-moo quietly laughing.

When she lowered her gaze, she realized that a pair of glasses had been tucked into the gap in her dress.

Recognizing them as her own, she let out a huge sigh of relief — only to sharply inhale again the next moment.

The lenses made the area she was trying to hide stand out even more clearly.

“Well, now I can see it even better.”

As though he had never intended such a thing, Tae-moo casually removed the glasses again.

“I’ll hold onto these so I can return them later.”

The unspoken implication—if you want them back—hung heavily beneath his words, yet Yeon-ha neither could nor wanted to defy him.

“You can leave now. I’m going to change.”

Tae-moo absentmindedly brushed the area of his chest where traces of her touch still remained.

The movement of his hand, reminding her exactly where she had touched him, made Yeon-ha’s face burn red.

“Unless you plan on staying and helping me undress.”

His broad shoulders rolled back in a smooth motion.

As soon as he began to remove his jacket, Yeon-ha hurriedly fled the side room.

As she quickly shut the door behind her, she caught a brief glimpse of him looking at her through the narrow gap in the door.

Unlike the man she remembered, his black eyes were hard and worn now.

***

At the Jamsil Sports Complex, Yeon-ha stepped out of the car with the protocol team after Manager Kang had explained her responsibilities to her briefly.

The stadium had been transformed into an electric vehicle track, with rows of discontinued luxury cars on display throughout.

Wherever Tae-moo went, people who recognized him approached him.

He moved effortlessly between multiple languages, conversing with them naturally without needing Yeon-ha’s assistance once.

“Mr. Seong.”

A tall man approached Tae-moo, waving his long arm.

It was Prince Mohammed bin Nashal.

With his thick beard covering his jawline, he had a ruggedly masculine appearance.

He was also the wealthy Saudi client who had spent hundreds of millions at last year’s event.

{I hope this year lives up to my expectations too.}

{Nashal, have I ever disappointed you?}

Without difficulty, Tae-moo continued the conversation in fluent Arabic, calmly matching the prince’s imposing energy.

{If I’m not satisfied, I’ll skip next year.}

{Hahaha, that sounds just like my friend! Fine, I’ll be looking forward to it. But who’s this woman?}

Nashal’s interest shifted toward Yeon-ha.

{My stand-in.}

Even though Tae-moo himself could speak Arabic, there was a reason he still brought an interpreter.

Whenever he left his seat, she would have to step forward and handle the people searching for him.

{What happened to the pretty one from before?}

{I fired her. Her behavior became too predictable.}

Having unwillingly overheard something that felt far too private, Yeon-ha bit the inside of her lip while standing between the two men.

{If it were me, I would’ve kept her around for fun. Tch. Your tastes really are difficult.}

{Mind your own business.}

{At least loosen up and enjoy yourself a little. Your body’s suffering because it ended up with the wrong owner.}

{Whether I use it recklessly or not, it’s still my body. I’ll handle it myself, so drop the subject.}

{Alright, alright, stop glaring at me then. This poor woman is frozen stiff because of us.}

Nashal winked at Yeon-ha.

{Aren’t you going to introduce me?}

{Keep it simple.}

The moment Tae-moo gave permission, Yeon-ha placed one hand lightly over her chest and bowed politely.

{My name is Ji Yeon-ha. Please call me whatever is comfortable for you.}

{I wonder if you know who I am.}

{I do know you, Mohammed bin Nashal.}

{Call me Nashal. I’ll call you Miss Ji. How old are you, Miss Ji?}

{It’s an honor, Your Highness. I’m twenty-four years old.}

{Wow. Your face looks even younger, but your figure is mature enough to match your age.}

Yeon-ha felt embarrassed by Nashal’s gaze lingering openly on her chest, yet she could not react according to her feelings.

“Cry for me.”

“You have the kind of face that makes me want to see you cry.”

Faced with words that deliberately stirred her humiliation, Yeon-ha finally felt she understood why Tae-moo had provoked her with such dangerously suggestive remarks earlier.

{My words didn’t offend you, did they? It was a compliment. I’m only saying it because you’re beautiful.}

{Not at all. Your Highness is very handsome as well.}

{Thank goodness my face appeals to Miss Ji, then.}

Maintaining her awkward smile while humoring him, Yeon-ha watched Nashal throw his head back and laugh loudly.

{Nashal.}

The dry voice cut cleanly through the booming laughter.

{We need to go. I’ll see you later.}

{You’re busy, yet I kept you for so long. There’s a whole crowd waiting for you, so I can’t be greedy. We’ll meet again later. You too, Miss Ji.}

Yeon-ha bowed courteously before following after Tae-moo, matching the pace of his long strides.

‘Was that alright?’

Worried, she cautiously glanced up at him only to see that his expression had tightened ever so slightly.

***

‘Ah…’

Yeon-ha frowned quietly as she examined the sore skin on the back of her heel.

Her soft skin, unused to being in high heels for such long periods, throbbed painfully.

The World Automobile Collection Festival was now coming to an end.

The once overwhelming crowd had noticeably thinned.

In the plaza, where races unfolded across the circuit and bets were placed amid the excitement, there was one undeniable center of attention: the event’s host, Seong Tae-moo.

With his refined eloquence and effortless charisma, Tae-moo made it impossible for participants not to spend money.

The recorded revenue alone had already surpassed five million dollars — nearly 6.6 billion won in Korean currency.

Tae-moo stood facing Nashal, one of the event’s largest shareholders, with only their closest aides nearby.

Aside from a few bodyguards, the rest of Tae-moo’s protocol team had already gone home.

Standing several steps away, Yeon-ha waited quietly for him, not complaining.

Then, as though their conversation had finally come to an end, Tae-moo’s gaze landed directly on her.

Distance no longer mattered.

That binding stare alone was enough to draw Yeon-ha towards him.

“I told you to rest. Why are you standing here?”

“I’m sorry.”

Stepping into the range of his voice, Yeon-ha lowered her head at Tae-moo’s quiet reproach.

“You seem like the type who’d apologize even if I kissed you, Ms. Ji Yeon-ha.”

He spoke as though he had already stolen her kiss.

The thought that the aides standing behind Tae-moo had undoubtedly heard every humiliating word made Yeon-ha feel as though her face was about to catch fire.

Desperate for air, she sank her lips between her pale teeth.

“Are the people behind me bothering you?”

Tae-moo’s gaze dropped to the lips she was biting.

“If it bothers you that they’re pretending not to see what they’ve clearly seen, I can remove them from your sight.”

If even Manager Kang and the two bodyguards disappeared, it felt as though his gaze would strip bare the deepest parts of her.

“Please don’t.”

Wondering what he might do was just an excuse.

The truth was that Yeon-ha was afraid the desire to be with Tae-moo would consume her completely if they were left alone together.

So she shook her head.

“I’m not a particularly considerate person, yet I want to grant Ms. Ji Yeon-ha’s requests.”

The distance she could never close on her own—he claimed it effortlessly.

“You really know how to confuse people.”

A hand she could never possess covered both her eyes.

“Is it because of these eyes?”

With her vision blocked by his large hand, Yeon-ha found herself wondering how he was looking at her now.

But when his hand moved away, Seong Tae-moo had already stepped back again.

“Keep your head up and follow properly.”

Before she even had the chance to ask where they were going, he started walking ahead.

The aides who had silently guarded Tae-moo’s back now positioned themselves behind Yeon-ha instead.

“Come stand beside me.”

Unable to disobey him, Yeon-ha abandoned the idea of getting into the car behind him and opened the passenger door instead, taking a seat beside him.

The car did not set off immediately.

At some point, the window next to Tae-moo’s arm was lowered.

“It’s here.”

An envelope held by one of the bodyguards was passed to Tae-moo, who then placed it atop Yeon-ha’s thigh.

“Put a bandage on it.”

“Thank you.”

The fact that he had noticed the state of her body made Yeon-ha’s heart race uncontrollably.

She became flustered as she tried to put the plaster on the blister on her heel, the slit in her dress riding up her thigh.

Then—thud.

His suit jacket fell over her legs.

It had been a long time since she had felt another person’s warmth so closely.

Fidgeting awkwardly beneath the jacket, Yeon-ha managed to attach the plaster with great difficulty.

When she handed the jacket back, Tae-moo took it from her and pulled her glasses out of the pocket.

The thick lenses immediately blurred her vision as he held them out to her.

The combination looked strangely mismatched.

Feeling that she probably looked ridiculous again, Yeon-ha instinctively reached up to take off her glasses.

But Tae-moo spoke before she could.

“Leave them on.”

At his words, the hand gripping the frame slowly lowered.

“We’re heading to the hotel.”

“…Pardon?”

“Nashal wants to see you.”

‘Why would he…?’

The confusion was plainly written across her face, yet Tae-moo showed no intention of explaining further.