Choking the Neck (Part 3)

The article had been up for less than thirty minutes before it caught fire. In a way, that was only to be expected. The entire industry had already been watching ENTRA's sudden rise with suspicion—and this piece, dripping with allegations, had been thrown on those embers like a can of gasoline.

Let's see how they play this.

Park Siwoo had specifically asked the journalist not to include any hard evidence. The article that had gone up was, quite deliberately, nothing more than a collection of suspicions—which meant ENTRA had plenty of room to issue a rebuttal. That was exactly what he was counting on.

He had no intention of dragging Kim Soyeon and Kim Mir down in a single stroke. He would take his time. He would be thorough. He would end them for good.

Siwoo's fist tightened.

Just then, the door opened, and a woman approached him hesitantly. Judging by her attire, she was another salesperson.

"Excuse me..."

"Can I help you?" Siwoo asked.

She answered shyly.

"Would you mind taking a picture with me? I'm a fan."

The woman who had come over was none other than one of his own fans.

I suppose I should start getting used to this.

Siwoo smiled awkwardly and rose from his seat.

"Of course."

After taking the photo, he chatted with her for a while—she kept thanking him, introducing herself over and over as a fan—before finally turning away. The salesperson called after him.

"I'll send you a message as soon as the car is ready for delivery."

"Yes, thank you."

Siwoo stepped outside with the salesperson seeing him off, then immediately called Lee Yena. A few seconds passed before her voice came through.

With that cute little answer, Siwoo hung up. He had a reason for going to pick her up himself: the OB-GYN Clinic. There was a private clinic, he'd been told, that celebrities used—one with a dedicated VIP entrance, where everything from the consultation to the tests was kept strictly confidential. It came with a price tag to match, but there hadn't really been another option.

He pulled up in front of the building and reached for his phone to call her. Just then—

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone was tapping on the window. He turned his head, and there was Lee Yena, perfectly disguised in a mask and a hat, her eyes smiling at him over the fabric. Siwoo hurriedly unlocked the car.

"Come in."

She yanked the door open and slipped inside. The moment it shut with a thud, she pulled off the mask and hat in a rush—and the air around them seemed to brighten all at once. Her bangs were slightly damp, her face flushed from the heat. Siwoo smiled faintly.

"Why did you come down so early?"

"I didn't want to keep you waiting."

"Don't do that next time. I don't mind waiting."

"I suppose I should, at least in the summer."

She laughed, a little awkwardly, then asked,

"We're going straight to the OB-GYN, right?"

"We are. Though... I am a little worried."

"Worried?"

Siwoo nodded.

"I'm worried this might become a serious obstacle to your career."

"There's no way. The fans will understand."

"...Let's get to the clinic first."

"Okay."

Yena nodded, and Siwoo pressed down on the accelerator.

The clinic sat in the heart of Seoul. You'd have expected crowds, but when a celebrity was coming in, they simply stopped taking other patients for that window of time. The confidentiality agreements were ironclad; there was no chance of a leak.

Siwoo and Yena were shown to a private stairwell and stepped inside.

"Hello there."

A female doctor bowed in greeting as they entered.

"You're Lee Yena, correct?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I'll help you with registration. Please take off the mask and the hat."

Yena did as the nurse asked—and the nurse's eyes went wide. She had expected it from the name, but actually seeing Lee Yena standing in front of her was another thing entirely. She froze without meaning to, taking in Yena's face as if she couldn't help herself.

"Excuse me?"

Siwoo's voice snapped her back to earth.

"I—I'm so sorry. You're just so pretty. Please fill out this questionnaire here—"

She scrambled to start the registration. Then,

"You're here because of a pregnancy, correct...?"

"Yes."

Yena nodded, and the nurse's eyes flew open once more. She glanced at Siwoo standing beside her. The question in that look was unmistakable: Is it you?

Siwoo smiled, awkward. The nurse studied him for a moment, then nodded as if that settled it. If you had to pick a man who looked like he belonged at Lee Yena's side, a face like his would be the first to come to mind.

"You're all set. You can go right in with the director."

"This way, please."

Siwoo followed Yena into the examination room. It was exactly as he'd imagined. In the corner sat the gynecological chair that women were said to dread most, and an assortment of machines occupied every other available space.

"Please ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have a seat."

The doctor indicated a chair. Yena sat, and the consultation began.

"You're here regarding a pregnancy."

"Yes."

"And you do intend to carry to term?"

Yena nodded. The doctor continued.

"It's been approximately four weeks since you were intimate. And this is your husband?"

"Yes."

"No illnesses we should know about?"

"No, none."

"Then we'll do an ultrasound and a blood test. Nurse Kim? Please show them the way."

"Of course."

They followed her into the ultrasound room. Siwoo went in as well, and the nurse looked uncomfortable.

"Would the husband mind waiting outside? It's a transvaginal ultrasound, and a lot of wives find that embarrassing."

"It's all right."

Yena, who had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠listening from beside him, smiled softly.

"I'd like Siwoo to stay with me."

"Understood."

And so Siwoo went into the ultrasound room with her.

"Please remove everything, including your undergarments. I'll draw the curtain, so take your time."

Yena stepped behind the curtain. There was a rustle of fabric, and then she came out again. She flashed Siwoo a bright little smile before sitting down on the examination table. A curtain covered everything that needed covering.

"I'll begin the exam now."

The specialist lifted the ultrasound probe, and Yena's face tightened slightly. Siwoo took her hand in his. Aside from the occasional tremor that ran through her, the exam seemed to go smoothly enough. And then—

"There's the gestational sac. It looks healthy. I don't see any particular problems, but we'll have the director take another look shortly."

"Nnh—okay."

Yena answered with her face still drawn. The exam was over.

"Haa..."

She let out a long breath, and Siwoo gently stroked her hair.

"You did well."

"Yeah..."

He helped her up from the table and handed her a towel. She wrapped it around herself and went to change. After that, they finished the blood test as well, and the two of them stood before the director.

"I don't see any particular problems. The blood work ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will take a little time, though, so I'll send you a detailed breakdown by text after you get home."

"Okay."

Yena nodded.

"That concludes the appointment. You did very well today."

"Ah—Doctor, I still have a question..."

"Yes? What is it?"

Siwoo, who had been about to head out to pay, stopped at Yena's words and turned around. What kind of question? Was something bothering her? He looked at her, uneasy. Yena asked in a tone of complete seriousness:

On the drive home, Siwoo glanced at Yena's downcast face and said,

"They said we can during the second trimester."

"But still..."

Yena clicked her tongue, looking thoroughly disappointed. Siwoo seemed to recall articles about couples suffering through sexless marriages—and he had been certain that, at the very least, that would never happen to him. He gave an awkward little laugh.

"When should we get married?"

"Married?"

"Yes."

Yena hummed in thought.

"Honestly, I don't really want to rent out some huge wedding hall or anything."

"Then what would you like?"

"Just the two of us, somewhere quiet. A private resort, maybe? Somewhere with nobody else around."

"I like that."

Siwoo nodded. On that point, at least, they were in complete agreement. When he had married Kim Soyeon, they had scraped together every last won they had for a lavish ceremony—and even then, he had never understood why it had to be such a production.

"Shall we file the marriage registration right away?"

"Yes. Let's submit it today, as soon as we get home."

"We don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠need to get permission from your agency or anything?"

At Siwoo's question, Yena answered as if it were nothing.

"My contract's expiring soon anyway."

"Then... all right. I'll take care of the preparations."

"Thank you."

"Ah—and shouldn't we tell your sister?"

"Oh. Right..."

Yena's expression turned uneasy. She had grown up in an orphanage—abandoned by her parents at birth. She had one blood relative in the world: an older sister, likewise abandoned as a newborn. He had heard they were twins, though the details were not widely known.

"I'll get in touch and ask her to meet. She probably won't be able to come right away, though. She's filling in for me right now."

"Filling in?"

"Yes. My sister is my manager. She's at my place right now, pretending to be me to throw off the paparazzi."

"Ah..."

Only then did Siwoo understand how Yena had been able to move around so freely.

They arrived home.

"Whew. Things are going to get busy from here on out."

"They really are."

"For now, let's keep the pregnancy a secret until we can't hide it anymore."

"I think that's for the best."

Siwoo nodded, and Yena smiled softly.

"You should eat dinner."

"I didn't realize it had gotten so late."

"Give me just a moment. I'll have it ready in no time."

With that, she pattered off toward the kitchen in short, quick steps. At the same time, his phone buzzed.

Siwoo's eyes went wide. How did it never deviate even an inch from what he had predicted? Curious to see what they had written, he tapped the article open.

The article was painfully trite. It wasn't sajaegi, they would sue anyone circulating falsehoods—a cookie-cutter rebuttal from top to bottom. And yet, for some reason, the whole thing reeked of panic.

Siwoo picked up his phone. He typed, then hit send.