Chapter 271
His connections had thickened as well. He personally provided the utmost service to clients who booked the suite, forging bonds in the process. He occasionally exchanged pleasantries over the phone with CEOs of major corporations from various countries, prime ministers, ministers, presidents, famous Hollywood stars, European royalty, and Middle Eastern princes.
For someone like Choi Seong-cheol, perched at the pinnacle of the elite, it was incomprehensible that his daughter would associate with a nobody like Han Ya-seong, even if the man had brought some jewels.
"Yu-jin, I'm disappointed in you. Are you seeing him just because of these jewels?"
It was like a royal princess blinded by gems, consorting with a mere horse handler. Choi Seong-cheol was genuinely let down by his daughter. He'd never interfered much in her relationships before because she'd always chosen men of worth.
Seo Tae-ha might have been an athlete, but he came from a good family and was a superstar with massive popularity in Korea—that's why he'd approved their relationship. But Han Ya-seong? He couldn't fathom why she'd choose someone like him.
It had pushed him to resolve to meddle in her love life from now on.
"I've given you too much freedom. I thought you knew how the world worked, but now you need to come under your father's management."
The daughters of chaebol families were all under their parents' strict oversight. They couldn't date or marry freely. That was the price—and duty—of living as an upper-class heiress, enjoying every luxury without worrying about money.
If they didn't like it, they had to leave home without a penny. The ones who ran off shouting about love came crawling back within months. They couldn't endure poverty.
After that, they never dated poor men again. They'd realized romance wasn't worth it.
Rich men might take an interest in poor women, just as rich women sometimes fixated briefly on poor men. But it was just a fleeting curiosity. Experience actual poverty, and that interest vanished. They even grew repulsed by it.
Like a woman used to clean flush toilets recoiling at a filthy pit latrine crawling with bugs and maggots. Love with the poor was nothing more than a temporary whim. They always returned to their rightful place.
In that sense, his daughter Choi Yu-jin was at the stage of indulging curiosity toward a poor man. No need to let her take the long way around. He had to end it here.
"I'll compensate Han Ya-seong plenty myself. We'll split the profits three ways equally, so you stop this dangerous game."
"It's not like that."
"What do you mean? You're not seeing him for the jewels? Be grateful, sure, but separate business from personal matters. This way, you're actually harming him."
Han Ya-seong would inevitably be dumped by Choi Yu-jin later. The shock might even drive him to suicide. Like that guy—Choi Seong-cheol's mood soured further as he recalled his wife's first love.
"Don't see him anymore. I'll handle the money. Yu-jin, you come home now. No more staying here either."
"Dad, seriously. You're not even listening to me. Do you think I'm seeing Ya-seong just for the jewels?"
"If that's not it, it's even worse."
It had to be the jewels. That was the only explanation he could accept. If she genuinely liked him without reason, things got complicated. He'd have to resort to force. Lock her at home like in some third-rate drama, hire thugs to beat Han Ya-seong black and blue—whatever it took to keep them apart.
It happened occasionally among the elite with spoiled daughters. Surrounded by noble suitors, yet chasing a lowly servant—pure happenstance turned mishap. They'd pry them apart and ship the daughter off to study abroad. That's why it showed up in dramas; it was real.
Choi Seong-cheol worried he might have to forcibly send Choi Yu-jin to Europe, so he wanted to wrap this up now.
"Enough games. Stay good senior and junior. You get what I mean, right?"
He shot Han Ya-seong a direct warning glare, expecting the kid to cower with his tail between his legs.
But no. Despite the intense stare, Han Ya-seong took it calmly. Most men wilted under his gaze alone, but not this one. Either ballsy beyond reason or clueless—one or the other. Probably the latter; he hadn't grasped reality yet.
Choi Seong-cheol intensified his glare.
"Han Ya-seong, do you understand me?"
"Not really."
He even smirked back. Wrong guess. Not clueless—gutsy as hell.
Absurd. Choi Seong-cheol glanced at his daughter, who looked utterly relaxed, not a trace of worry. No—her eyes held concern, but for him, her father. Why?
In this situation, she should be fretting over Han Ya-seong. That paternal worry felt off-kilter.
"Dad has no idea how amazing Ya-seong is."
"Besides the jewels, what's else?"
Maybe something even more valuable had caught her eye. Daughters were materialists too. If Han Ya-seong had something rarer than jewels, it might explain her infatuation.
But no.
"Not material stuff—it's Ya-seong himself. We've actually been together for months. Remember when I went on that uninhabited island MT trip?"
"Yeah, with Eun-ah. Wait, you met him then?"
"We met that day and have been together ever since. He didn't even know about the jewels back then."
"Rebound from breaking up with Tae-ha?"
"That played a part at first, but it was just the trigger. I like Ya-seong for who he is. Dad, you'll be shocked when you learn about him."
Maybe the kid had superhuman stamina? That crossed his mind. Nothing else explained it. But the boy was scrawny, not built like a stud. And even if he was a beast in bed, that alone wouldn't justify it.
Choi Seong-cheol narrowed his eyes at his daughter, signaling his displeasure. She sighed and looked at Han Ya-seong.
"Guess I have to show you."
"Yeah."
Han Ya-seong rose casually, addressing her informally. Choi Seong-cheol felt like he was tumbling into a fox den. Informal speech now? Were they pranking him? Felt like a hidden camera gag.
Standing, Han Ya-seong met his gaze.
"I want a one-on-one match with you, sir."
"What? With me?"
"Yes. If I win, please allow me to date Yu-jin."
"Haha..."
Choi Seong-cheol burst into incredulous laughter. A match? One-on-one? And if he won, permission to date his daughter? Too ridiculous for words. Either the kid was insane, or he was.
"You think you can beat me? Underestimating me because I'm a flabby middle-aged guy? Haha, kid... I could take dozens like you. I don't lose to real gangsters either. You serious?"
He'd been a scrapper since school days, undefeated even against actual thugs. Confidence in a fight was absolute. Pros might beat him, but any average Joe? Toast.
Yet this punk seemed to dismiss him as a soft old man. That irked more than the dating. He even considered offing him today. No mercy in a real fight—he'd break a few bones, hospitalize him for months.
He alternated warning glares at Han Ya-seong and Choi Yu-jin. Their reactions? Infuriating. Han Ya-seong looked down on him like a scrub; Choi Yu-jin fretted he'd get hurt.
Did age make you a joke? Blood pressure spiked, a pang of pathos hit. Real premonition he'd bury a body today.
"I know you're impressive, sir. Heard you can throw punches."
"Hahaha... 'Throw punches'... Kuhahaha..."
A pup barking at a tiger. Words wouldn't work on punks like this. Hospitalization would wise him up. He shook his head to stand—
Then something streaked through the air before his eyes.
Thwack!