Chapter 1.1

Choi Jin-wook. 

Her husband was the eldest of three brothers. Having lost his father at a young age, he had to take care of his mother and two younger siblings, which made him mature early. From that time on, he had grown far more mature than his age. 

He said that his life had always been aligned with his mother’s wishes. Doing so generally kept the household running smoothly. 

His mother, born as the daughter of a major conglomerate’s chairman and accustomed to having everything her way, was the type of person who had to control everything according to her will to feel satisfied. 

Upon meeting her, this impression only deepened. 

There was just one exception: she couldn’t hold onto her husband’s life. That wasn’t something human effort could achieve. No matter how much money one had, death couldn’t be stopped. 

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

At their arranged meeting, her husband had said this much and then asked her this question, as if he believed he had provided enough information for her to make a decision. 

“Don’t you think I’m too young?” 

Instead of answering, she chose to ask a question. It was something her father had said while trying to dissuade her from attending the meeting. He thought she was too young to handle married life. 

A four-year age difference. At the time, she didn’t realize how significant that gap could be. She only thought of it as a numerical difference. 

Back then, she was fearless. 

At twenty-six, most people were busy graduating, preparing for graduate school, or looking for jobs. 

But she hadn’t accomplished anything. It was too early to have achieved much, but she didn’t even have a clear goal set for herself. 

Her father knew she was useless. He always said so, as if it were a habit. 

She understood. If not for her mother, she wouldn’t even have been able to call him “father.” Her father already had a wife and children, and had he not met her mother, she wouldn’t have been born. 

After her mother’s death, it was only natural for her to become as insignificant as a severed kite string. 

Her father had loved her mother, but he had no interest in the child born from their relationship. 

That’s why, on the day of her mother’s funeral, when a large sum of money was deposited into her account under her father’s name, she thought.

‘I need to repay this debt.’

She didn’t feel she deserved to accept the money so easily. 

Her father probably thought that with that money, he could sever ties with her and move on. But she didn’t want to be cut off so easily. 

There was no reason for her to accept the money as if it were natural. 

Her words about not wanting the money were thoroughly ignored. Even when she visited his company, she was stopped by security and forced out. 

In the end, she took a desperate measure. She approached her father as he got out of his car on his way to work. Looking back now, she couldn’t believe she had said such audacious words. 

“If I die, you’ll have to take the money back anyway.” 

Her father clicked his tongue and, for the first time, asked her to answer his question. 

“What do you want from me?” 

“Make me a useful person.” 

And that’s how she ended up at the arranged meeting with him. 

And what was given to her was that arranged meeting with him. There was a considerable age gap with her father’s legal children, and she heard that his wife had strongly opposed it, saying her own daughters would surely suffer under a mother-in-law like his mother.

Compared to the company he was set to inherit; her father’s company was like a neighborhood convenience store. For her father, it was a gamble with nothing to lose. 

At the meeting meant to prove her worth, he kindly answered her seemingly random question. 

“My youngest sibling is your age.” 

“…Does that mean I’m too young?” 

“You don’t seem that young.” 

She laughed as if she had heard an amusing joke. He simply gazed at her silently. 

That was the end of their conversation. He had to return to his company. 

She hadn’t expected much. She wondered if she should have tried harder to catch his attention, but her father had arranged other meetings as well. 

That’s why she couldn’t believe it when she met him again at their engagement ceremony. Everything felt too good to be true. 

For that day alone, even her father’s wife didn’t avoid her gaze. 

Instead, she actively emphasized to his family that she had grown up in a harmonious household and had been raised normally since childhood. It was a stark contrast to when she had begrudgingly added her to her family registry under her grandmother’s orders. 

Regardless, she ended up in a marriage that was far beyond her status. 

And today, on the third anniversary of their marriage, she decided to be fearless once again. 

Over the past years, she had come to realize that her husband was not an easy person. 

While waiting for him, she brewed coffee and drank three cups. 

***

Her husband returned home past midnight. 

As always, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. Despite the long hours and demanding work, he looked healthy. 

He went straight to the bedroom, removing his suit jacket and glancing at her briefly. 

Then, he entered the bathroom. 

It didn’t take him more than ten minutes to come back out. 

In the meantime, she had finished her third cup. The caffeine made her feel more awake. 

She had deliberately avoided washing up. Her makeup was still on, and she was wearing the same outfit she had worn during the day. It was her way of preparing to confront her husband. 

He came out wearing a nightgown and lightly pushed her shoulder. She should have fallen onto the bed, but she stiffened her shoulders and resisted. 

Lowering his hand, he lifted her chin. His gaze from above seemed to be analyzing her. 

“I… I haven’t washed yet.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“Our divorce…”  

Before she could finish the words, she had carefully prepared, her husband forcefully pushed her shoulder. Focused on speaking, she fell backward. 

The expensive mattress cushioned her back with its soft texture, but her body shrank further in fear. The veins on her husband’s wrist, planted firmly beside her face, bulged prominently. His strong scent seeped into her. 

“If you won’t take it off, I’ll do it for you.” 

“N-No, I’ll take it off.” 

She unbuttoned the silk shirt she was wearing and removed it. It was a decision born from experience—taking it off obediently was the best course of action. 

If anything upset him during s*x, everything would be torn apart. Whether it was clothes or something else, anything under her husband’s grip would crumble like paper. 

It wasn’t intentional violence on his part; his grip strength was simply overwhelming. During their honeymoon, he had crushed tropical fruits with one hand—something the other men around them couldn’t manage even with all their might. 

So, anything caught in his hands didn’t stand a chance. 

“Is this a shirt you care about?” 

“…I did care for it.” 

This shirt was one he had bought for her. 

It was during a trip to the department store to choose a birthday gift for his mother, Mrs. Shin. Her tastes were notoriously picky, so she had needed his help. 

After finishing their shopping, they were casually browsing through a clothing store when she stopped in her tracks. It was a couple’s shirt advertised by a celebrity couple in a magazine—a pair known for their enviable relationship. She had secretly admired them. 

‘If you like it, buy it.’ 

Her husband had assumed she wanted the shirt. Before she could stop him, he had handed his card to the store clerk and completed the purchase. 

From the moment she received the shopping bag, the shirt had become something she genuinely liked. It became a cherished piece simply because her husband had bought it for her. 

Now that she had decided to divorce him, she tried not to hold onto sentimental attachments to clothes. 

But the thought of the shirt being destroyed in his hands pained her. 

After all, what fault did the shirt have? 

She carefully folded it and placed it to the side. However, before she could neatly arrange it, her husband grabbed her and pulled her toward him. She had no choice but to expose her collarbone. 

Her husband’s face was near her shoulder. More precisely, he was licking the nape of her neck. 

It was a crude and vulgar act, yet his blank expression made it seem like something important. She wondered if her body had some sort of taste that made him act this way, but today, she wanted to push him away. 

Having been outside earlier, she must have sweated or picked up dust. A sense of revulsion welled up. 

“It’s dirty. P-Please stop.” 

Her husband was usually meticulous when it came to hygiene. She had deliberately avoided washing up, calculating that he might not touch her today. 

At least, she had hoped he wouldn’t. 

“Hng…” 

His hot lips persistently sucked at the flesh of her neck, and she couldn’t help but let out a sound. Despite his cold demeanor, his lips were always warm. 

Why were his lips so hot when his words were so icy? She twisted her body this way and that. 

“You didn’t know I’d act like this?” 

How could she not know? 

He always started with f*replay, focusing entirely on himself—licking and sucking only the parts of her he wanted. 

The peculiar places he chose to touch made her feel embarrassed, even when listening to her friends’ intimate conversations about their own s*x lives. 

Her husband always started by licking her collarbone. The sound of him sucking at such a bony area was mortifying. 

It wasn’t just f*replay. The next day, when she faced her reddened body in the mirror, she wanted to turn away from herself.