CHAPTER 80

Minhee stared blankly at the ceiling, panting heavily. She blinked a few times, her eyes dazzled by the chandelier’s light. From head to toe, she was soaked in ecstasy, lying on Taejun’s large bed.

‘I was clearly having an important conversation, but…’

When she came to her senses, she found herself writhing under Taejun. 

‘This wasn’t right.’

“Taejun…”

Minhee gently pushed the shoulders of Taejun, who had his face buried in her neck, trying to catch his breath. He clung to her tightly, almost choking her. As she struggled, Taejun reluctantly lifted his head and began showering her face and neck with fervent kisses.

“Taejun, w-wait!”

Minhee couldn’t gather her wits, overwhelmed by his anxious and desperate movements, like a person being chased. She could feel his hardened p*nis thrusting in and out of her again, regaining its strength.

“Aaah… I have something to tell you, I have something to say!”

Minhee covered his lips with her palm. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Averting his gaze, Taejun slowly got up.

“Go ahead.”

Minhee opened her mouth, wanting to ask if he had heard her confession in the bathroom, but she just stared dumbfoundedly at Taejun. She tightly pressed her lips together and swallowed. The light from the geometric chandelier illuminated Taejun’s n*ked body.

Taejun was kneeling in the middle of the bed. Minhee’s gaze traveled up his toned, muscular thighs. Taejun peeled the condom off his half-standing p*nis. The knotted condom dropped to the floor in a pool of whitish liquid. Minhee’s eyes followed his movements.

Taejun lightly gripped his growing shaft and gently stroked it up and down. Reaching around, he grabbed one of the condoms strewn across the bed, ripped the wrapper off with his teeth, and spat it out.

The pulsing veins, the rhythmic motion of his large hand gripping his hardening shaft, the taut, bulging muscles of his forearm, the heaving chest and solid pecs with each breath, and the long scar across his torso – Minhee scanned Taejun’s form without even breathing.

‘Ah… I need to hear his response to my confession.’

Minhee tried to gather her thoughts, briefly looking at the chandelier.

“About what I said earlier-“

Her parched throat made her voice rasp. Taejun glanced up as he was rolling the condom onto his er*ect shaft. Their eyes met as Minhee was finding her voice.

Seeing Minhee’s gaze drift downwards, Taejun tilted his chin up and languidly lowered his eyes. He finished sheathing his shaft in the condom. The heat simmering in his eyes beneath his neatly arched brows was palpable.

The slick liquid pooled between Minhee’s legs trickled down the cleft of her b*ttocks. She exhaled the breath she had been holding. Her breathing was ragged, as if she lacked air.

As her inner walls clenched and pulsed, she quietly moaned from the residual pleasure of her org*sm. She pressed her thighs together, shuddering. She had to speak to him while she was still sane.

“Taejun, what I said earlier-“

“Later.”

“Love… Mmph!”

Taejun pounced on her in an instant, silencing her with a kiss. He thrust his hips sharply. Minhee’s moan was swallowed by his mouth.

His lips desperately seeking her, his rough touches clumsily caressing her, his relentlessly fierce and sharp thrusts – Taejun was like a half-crazed person. She could only cling to his neck, helplessly shuddering.

The last emotion she glimpsed in the man’s eyes, buried in her neck, was… fear.

* * *

[Minnie, would you like to join me for lunch today?] 

A long, sharp pink-manicured nail slid onto Minhee’s shoulder as she was leaving the office to go to her preschool class. It was Devon, one of her office mates.

The temporary substitute teachers who filled in the vacant regular teacher positions were affectionately called “Floaties” at the school, regardless of grade level. Devon, the Floatie, sitting next to Minhee, had greeted her enthusiastically the moment she arrived at the office this morning, almost like she was an old friend.

It was highly unusual for the haughty Devon to greet Minhee first. Puzzled, but without much thought, Minhee smiled and exchanged pleasantries before taking her seat. But the invitation to have lunch together was truly unexpected.

[Huh? Uh, sure. Okay.]

Minhee walked to the classroom, puzzled. It was surprising that Devon, who had been treating her as invisible, was aware of her existence.

‘What business does she have with me?’

Devon, who was temporarily filling in for the second-grade teacher on maternity leave, was also an Aster School alumnus. She constantly boasted about this fact, emphasizing how she was different from the other substitute teachers in terms of “background.”

Since many of the faculty were also Aster School alumni, Devon had a lot of acquaintances despite being a temporary teacher. She claimed that the school’s board chair, a prominent socialite, was her close friend, and she was well-versed in the asset sizes of the so-called “old money” parent families whose last names were instantly recognizable.

Whenever Minhee saw Devon, she was reminded of Brianna, the girl who had made her life a living hell at Rosewood High.

Devon, like Brianna, was a tall, slender blonde, and her unnaturally bright veneered teeth flashed every time she let out her exaggeratedly cheerful, grating laughter. Even the way she expressed her exaggerated cheerfulness in a girlish tone of voice, showing interest only in people she thought were important, were similar.

Even as she scolded herself for having prejudices, Minhee instinctively tried to avoid Devon. Until now, Devon had shown no interest in Minhee, who was merely a substitute teacher.

When lunchtime came, Devon led Minhee out of the Floatie office. Minhee usually ate the free meals provided in the school cafeteria, but she thought it wouldn’t hurt to go out for a change today.

Compared to the conservative, modest attire of the school faculty following the Aster School’s dress code, Devon dressed in a more flamboyant style. Even Minhee, who had no interest in luxury brands, could recognize the prominent logos adorning her outfit today.

After briefly making small talk over their respective lunches – a salad for Devon and a panini sandwich for Minhee – Devon abruptly brought up the main topic.

[Minnie? Can you tell me a bit about Rose’s new guardian?]

Minhee had a feeling this was coming.

It was not a common occurrence for someone to donate a million dollars all at once to a Manhattan private school.

Many students at Aster School had siblings attending other private schools in the area, so the private schools on the Upper East Side were interconnected like a clan community. The story of an uncle generously donating an amount close to half the school’s annual total donations to properly care for his orphaned niece had become a legend that had spread to the neighboring private schools.

There were rumors that they planned to offer Taejun a position on the school’s board of directors, composed of famous alumni and wealthy parents, or that they would build a new swimming pool in his name. The gossip about Taejun had spread like wildfire, and the curiosity about him had reached its peak.

That’s why Minhee didn’t want to tell anyone other than Principal Ben Anderson about her job as a live-in tutor. It was common for substitute teachers to have side jobs, so there was no real need to hide it, but she had experienced and loathed becoming the victim of gossip by clinging to the coattails of a famous person when she was younger, and she didn’t want to go through that again.

However, after spring break, Rose’s diary entries surprised her kindergarten teachers. It was a train ride to the beach, with not only Rose but also Taejun and Minhee drawn side by side. If it had ended there, no one would have recognized it, but Rose, who has been having fun with her writing lately, wrote Taejun and Minhee’s names underneath the drawing.

One of the kindergarten teachers carefully questioned Minhee about it during a break. Reluctantly, Minhee confessed that she had taken on the job of being Rose’s live-in tutor.

After that, the rumor spread like wildfire among the faculty. A teacher becoming a live-in tutor in the house of a wealthy single man wasn’t a particularly special occurrence for the Upper East Siders, but it was also a juicy bit of gossip and a cliché they couldn’t resist.

[…What exactly do you want to know? I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose personal information.]

[Is the rumor about the million-dollar cash donation true? I’ve heard he’s the CEO of a hedge fund.]

[I don’t really know. I’ve never asked.]

[The address book says it’s on Park Avenue 000. I know that building well. It was designed by one of the top Art Deco architects of the early 20th century. The Renaissance-style courtyard is beautiful too. I used to see a guy I briefly dated living there. Is he staying in the penthouse of that building?]

[…Yes.]

[I see. He’s better than I thought.]

Devon paused, shuffling through the salad she hadn’t touched. She shrugged and then tossed off the obvious question as casually as if she were asking how a distant relative was doing.

[Is Rose’s uncle married?]

[No.]

Minhee replied dryly and silently brought her sandwich to her mouth. Devon rolled his eyes for a moment, then put down her fork and made her intentions clear.

[Then does he have a girlfriend?]