Chapter 24

He continued to assert his ownership with unshaken composure. Yaein shook her head.  

“I’m not some possession of yours, Taeheon.”  

“You’re my wife.”  

Taeheon’s tone sharpened.  

“A wife who had an affair with another man. A wife who pretended to be naive and upright while deceiving her husband completely.”  

The sharpened words pierced Yaein. She fell silent for a moment. The once savory taste of the porridge had vanished, leaving only bitterness on her tongue.  

What bothered her more than being accused of a sin she didn’t commit was the betrayal evident in Taeheon’s voice.  

Foolishly, she found herself worrying about the hurt he must have felt. Even though she had knowingly deceived him.  

“Then you should just throw me away.”  

She quietly suggested.  

“You can just let me go.”  

“…….”  

“You wouldn’t lose anything by leaving me. Not money, not your reputation. Finding a quiet wife who will sit by your side, just as you wanted, wouldn’t be difficult for you.”  

That was the truth. Taeheon had nothing to lose from parting ways with her. He never had.

Yein had always lived believing that Taeheon could discard her at any moment without hesitation. Yet now, she was the one struggling desperately to leave first.  

Life was ironic.  

“I know that.”  

Hearing him admit it made her feel foolishly pained.  

“But I don’t want to do that. Strange, isn’t it?”  

Taeheon placed his spoon down and pushed the bowl aside. The porcelain dish made a faint clinking sound. With the objects between them removed, a sudden sense of unease crept in.  

Taeheon leaned forward over the table.  

“Lee Yaein. You… sometimes make me…”  

His black eyes, so dark it was hard to tell where the pupils were, fixed on her like a predator. The hint of sharp canines under his upper lip when he spoke. The scent that belonged only to him, overwhelming her senses.  

“…go insane.”  

A chill ran through her body.  

She wasn’t sure if the feeling was truly one of fear.  

Perhaps it was the lingering pleasure from the night before still clouding her judgment.  

Or perhaps it was a love that hadn’t yet been discarded.  

“If you ever feel like telling me who that man is, go ahead. But you can stay silent if you want. I can just find out myself.”  

How long would it take for Taeheon to uncover everything?  

How much longer until he learned it all?  

The questions clung to Yein like shadows. Stopping him seemed impossible.  

“I’m still willing to let him live. For now.”  

The sudden statement made Yaein look up at him in stunned silence.  

He slipped a spoonful of now-cooled porridge between her lips as if nothing had happened.  

“That man. For now, I can let him keep breathing. But if you try to run away from me again…”  

Taeheon let the sentence hang as he slowly licked his lips. His jet-black eyes gleamed ominously.  

“Then I don’t know what I’ll do.”  

But Yaein had a feeling.  

Taeheon would do something truly monstrous.

The hope that he might accept the divorce and let her go without resistance was utterly shattered. Instead, he bound her down with cruel determination.  

Just as he was doing to Yaein now, Taeheon would easily commit acts she couldn’t even imagine at the moment.  

“So, please, do as you wish.”  

His words, smoothly delivered, were undoubtedly a warning.  

Taeheon got up from the table to clear the dishes. Left alone, Yaein clasped her trembling hands together.  

She had always known her husband wasn’t an ordinary man, but knowing something in theory and actually realizing its danger were two different things.  

Everyone understands that a wolf behind bars is a dangerous creature, but they don’t truly grasp it—until it sinks its teeth into them.  

From near the sink, Taeheon’s voice drifted toward her.  

“He’s arrived? I see…”  

Ending the brief call, he strolled back toward Yein with an unhurried gait.  

“The person I assigned to be by your side—perhaps it’s best to introduce him first?”  

He spoke as if casually asking how she planned to spend her afternoon. But this wasn’t a question. Even before Yaein could respond, Taeheon had already let someone into the living room.  

“Good day, young madam.”  

The man who entered and greeted her was someone Yaein recognized well. He was always near Taeheon, one of his closest subordinates.  

Instead of returning the greeting, Yaein looked straight at Taeheon. He met her gaze with calm, unwavering composure.  

“Starting today, I’ll be standing by near the lady at all times,” the subordinate said, bowing slightly.  

Just as Taeheon had said.  

“Standing by… at all times?”  

“Until the lady calls for me.”  

At a distance where he could immediately respond if summoned.  

Yaein quickly grasped the meaning behind those words.  

The house, once far too spacious for just the two of them, now seemed to shrink in around her. It tightened like a noose, leaving her no room to move.  

She scratched at her neck, suffocated by the oppressive weight of realization. The bite marks throbbed.  

She was trapped.  

Completely, in Taeheon’s grasp.

***

“Is that an angry expression?”

Or perhaps “sulking” would be a better description. 

Taeheon thought of old stories featuring sulking beauties. He could finally understand why powerful men in those tales were always flustered in front of them.  

Despite the situation, his thoughts drifted idly as he rested his chin on his hand, watching Yaein.  

Her lips were pressed tightly together as she stared at the book in front of her, exuding a stubbornness he could clearly see. Yet, she barely turned the pages.  

What exactly was going on behind that serene face? The urge to crack open that small head and take a peek inside was almost unbearable.  

“Are you just going to keep staring at me?”  

Yaein finally snapped, irritated by the relentless gaze she had been trying to ignore.  

“It’s more entertaining than I expected. I think I finally understand why people sit and watch birds for hours.”  

Just watching her, doing nothing else, made time fly by.  

He had felt something similar before—coming home exhausted from work, only to find himself watching Yein. Somehow, it made him feel better, even if just for a brief moment.  

For some reason, these tiresome days had become a little less dull. 

“You have terrible taste in men.”  

Taeheon tossed out the remark abruptly.

No matter how much he thought about it, it made no sense. The man Yaein fell for after Taeheon was nothing more than a con artist after her money.  

He had checked the withdrawal records. The money she had given away had all come from her own account.  

During their marriage, Yaein had briefly worked as a teacher for children. She used to tell Taeheon stories about the kids, smiling as she did.  

Though he couldn’t recall the specifics of those stories, he could still vividly remember how happy she had looked.  

She had said it was better than staying home alone all the time and that she wanted to keep doing it. It wasn’t much money, but since it seemed to satisfy her, he had let her be.  

Then his father had interfered, forcing her to quit.  

She had kept that money she had earned with her own hands, only to give it away to that bastard—as a token of love.  

A foolish, pathetic kind of devotion.  

“A man who can’t even use his own name, a credit delinquent, or a scammer. Either way, it’s obvious what his intentions were.”  

Would it have been less irritating if she had spent Taeheon’s money instead?  

What if that man hadn’t been a con artist but had genuinely loved Yaein?  

The answer was already clear.  

Either way, it would have infuriated him.  

And if it had truly been love, Taeheon would have killed that man without hesitation. He would have made sure the bastard never even had the chance to think of Yein again.  

“He’s not the kind of person you think he is.”  

Yaein’s firm tone, her attempt to defend the man, grated on his nerves. She hadn’t even looked at him properly until now.  

“Then what kind of person is he?”  

“Well…”  

Yaein hesitated.  

“I just helped because he’s struggling right now. He said he’d pay me back later.”  

“Yeah, I’m sure he will.”  

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t. I gave it because I wanted to help.”  

“You had no problem throwing me away with nothing, but giving every last penny to a con artist doesn’t feel like a waste to you? What exactly do you believe in to be this naive?”  

“…”  

“You think he’d welcome you with open arms if you ran to him penniless? He’d probably throw you out instead.”  

“Do you think so…?”  

A small murmur, but it sent a sharp, stiff ache down his neck.  

Why did she ask like that? As if it was something that truly mattered, as if whether that bastard would accept her or not was the most important thing in the world.  

“He wouldn’t take me in?”  

Yaein mumbled.  

The fear in her voice was real.  

Something flared at the pit of his stomach, searing through him like fire.  

The intensity of the emotion left him momentarily stunned. His throat tightened with heat.  

“What are you worrying about? It’s not like you’re ever going to get the chance to leave.”  

When Taeheon scoffed, Yaein turned her back on him again. He still followed every movement of hers with relentless focus.  

If she was going to foolishly pour her devotion into a love that would never be returned, why couldn’t it have been for him?  

‘It was me.’

‘The one Yaein had loved was me.’

‘Why, now of all times, did it have to be someone else?’

Taeheon stood and approached her, his shadow falling over her, engulfing her completely.  

“Your ring.”  

He touched Yaein’s left hand. She flinched and curled her fingers inward, emphasizing the emptiness where the ring should have been.  

“Where is it?”  

“Ah… I think I left it by the entrance.”  

She wrapped her fingers around her ring finger, as if covering the absence. Taeheon pried them apart.  

“You left it by the entrance while you were running away?”  

The implication was unmistakable.  

Yaein slowly nodded.  

He had always tried to brush past it, telling himself that he had never truly possessed anything.  

But now, the sense of loss bared its teeth at him, tearing through the illusion.  

He had thought there was nothing left of him to be chewed apart.  

And yet, it hurt.  

The pain was so long-forgotten that he felt like he was experiencing it for the first time—tasting it, like the blood from a shattered piece of candy rolling over his tongue.

Taeheon took the wedding ring out of his pocket. Yaein silently stared at the ring.  

When he knelt to the floor, their eyes met at the same level. As he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand toward him, he was struck anew by how light she felt.  

The words that came to mind whenever he touched her were always the same. Small, soft, delicate.  

Taeheon wrapped his fingers around Yaein’s hand and took her empty ring finger into his mouth. He ran his tongue over her smooth nail, swallowing each thought as he did.  

A faint circular mark remained where the wedding ring had once sat.  

He bit down hard over the imprint, leaving a clear impression of his teeth. A gasp escaped from above.  

Tracing the fresh bite mark with the tip of his tongue, Taeheon then took the wedding ring between his lips.  

Sliding the ring onto her finger, he repeated the motion—taking each knuckle into his mouth, one by one.  

The wedding ring fit perfectly over the mark his teeth had left, concealing it completely.  

He gently nibbled on her nail as he lifted his gaze. Yaein turned away.  

For the longest time, he had thought there was nothing left in this world that could hurt him.  

And yet, Yaein had wounded him so effortlessly.  

Taeheon pressed his lips against the back of her hand. His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching under strain.  

He hated her.  

Not anyone else—  

Only her.