Bringing Seolhwa Home
The issue of taking Seolhwa to raise her resolved surprisingly blandly.
He met the CEO of Best Investment, the old man's son, and played the recording for him. He'd planned to get Na Jisung's help if needed to forge the will with the testator's name and date, but the CEO barely listened before shrugging it off and telling him to just take her.
Evidently, the father keeping a concubine hadn't sat well with him. No reason to refuse when someone volunteered to take her off his hands.
With the funeral over, Jang Palbok's house was left for Seolhwa to guard alone. Still in mourning clothes, she evoked the image of a young widow from those erotic tales—somewhat... arousing.
"Um... President."
"What?"
"...You're hard."
Ugh, what a disgrace!
"Ahem, sorry about that."
"Shall I undress?"
"Undress what? If there's stuff to take, pack it in the trunk here. If it doesn't fit, let me know."
"Stuff... to take?"
"Personal items, clothes, whatever. Bring it all if you have it."
She needed hand-holding for everything. A total blank slate.
"Where am I going?"
"The old man's dead, so no need to stay here. Got anywhere? Relatives...?"
"...No."
"Then come to my place. Guest room's free—crash there tonight. We'll talk over dinner about what to do next. Sound good?"
"Yes, President."
Seolhwa followed obediently. Her "personal items" were just some cosmetics and clothes—didn't even fill half the trunk.
Back at the officetel, he was stowing her things in the guest room when his phone rang. It was Do Mingyu hyung.
"When you coming?"
"Where?"
"You little shit. Office interior decision today, remember?!"
He'd forgotten. Phone alarm had gone off, but fetching Seolhwa had wiped it from his mind.
"Crew's almost here. Haul ass in 30."
"Sorry, hyung. Be there ASAP."
He hung up and glanced at Seolhwa. She knelt primly in the guest room's center, like a maid awaiting orders.
"Sorry, emergency at the office. Wait here—drinks in the fridge, order food if hungry."
"Yes, President. Safe travels."
Almost asked if she knew delivery apps, but no time—he bolted.
Floored it, but the interior crew was already waiting. Famous firm, usually skipped small remodels, but Madam hyung pulled strings.
What couldn't that guy do?
"Elevator doors open—make it scream what we do. Entrance side..."
They nailed details he and Do Mingyu had overlooked. Guides for future floor expansion too. No wonder hyung recommended them.
Work starts next week. Meeting wrapped; hyung suggested drinks with dinner, but Seolhwa crossed his mind—he begged off with another appointment.
Officetel door opened to darkness.
Bad vibes—he flicked on the living room lights, rushed to the guest room. Seolhwa sat exactly as before.
"Welcome back?"
"...What're you doing?"
With no orders, she'd frozen, awaiting his return. Sigh—what to do with her?
"Come to the living room first. Let's eat."
"Um..."
"What?"
"Legs... numb. Can't stand."
Pizza since she ate anything. While waiting, he'd make cream spaghetti—Grace had raved about it.
Garlic, onion, pepper—sauté. Golden? Mushrooms, bacon, sauce, milk for thickness. Done.
Boiling pasta, Seolhwa sidled up, curious.
"You cook well."
"Made basics living solo. Delivery gets old."
"Thought chaebols had chefs."
"How'd you know I'm chaebol?"
"Old man told me. Said you'd... hold me from now on."
Perverted fuck. Planned to slot him as her sex partner.
Dished spaghetti—she hesitated, fork hovering.
"Not pro-restaurant level, but decent. Eat before cold."
Twirled noodles gingerly, tasted.
"Delicious..."
Starved—she demolished pizza and pasta. Petite frame, yet it vanished. YouTube mukbang gold, even casual clothes. If idol flops, try that.
"I'll clear—shower first. Toiletries inside."
"I, uh..."
"Can't solo? Want help?"
"N-no! Excuse me!"
Blushed, fled to bath. Adorable when shy.
Post-shower Seolhwa: bare-faced goddess. Boxy tee grazing sleek legs and hips, damp hair swaying—pure sex. Whoa, hold back. Pounce now, no better than that geezer.
Soaked in the tub awhile, emerged to Seolhwa prim on the guest bed. Vibe screamed sex timing—he called her to the living room, cracked a liquor bottle.
"What'll you have?"
"What's that you pour, President?"
"Balvenie DoubleWood 12-year. Mom loved it."
Smooth, subtle sweet—even whiskey haters dig it. Early 100k won range—fair price.
"One for me too."
Perfect—he'd planned it. She'd been tense since arrival, eyes darting. Booze might loosen her.
"Whew, first colored liquor—tasty. No weird white booze smell."
Good, she opened up.
"President... why bring me?"
Flushed cheeks matched glossy lips. Eyes half-lidded, faint smile. Stunning.
"Worried I'd make you do weird stuff like the old man?"
"You're rich, handsome, fit, um... good at that, and..."
No answer—just her gushing.
"Thanks, but I'm no big deal. Chaebol talk, but bastard outcast—empty shell."
"Don't need money. Handsome, fit, good at that..."
Always circles to sex. Only connection. To shift, answer honestly? What to say?
Demon said good sex means good acting—advanced lust blurs with talent. Sorry, fucked to test acting. Contract for idol stardom. Pussy and acting one letter... Damn, lame jokes only.
"You know I'm agency CEO?"
"Yes."
"We spot 'talent.' Showbiz flair. I scout, make stars. You've got it overflowing."
"...Me?"
"Yeah. Just need outlet. I know how—and can place you. Get why I picked you? That talent tempted me."
Disbelieving. Seolhwa, same here. Asmodeus vouched—I jumped. Talent? We'll see.
"Old man had you suffering 'good deeds.' Late, but try what you love. Better if you're good at it. I'll find it. Deal?"
"Can I... do anything well?"
"We'll find out. I'm confident."
Assured tone sparked interest. Asmodeus picks never flopped. Plus Lilith's blessing—succubus queen. Worth checking.
Sex now would confirm, but does she want it?
> [Just check the sex tag?]
'Not even a conquest target?'
> [Won Lilith bet. Demon wagers count as contracts—broadly. No flexibility?]
'Your terms loose. My fault?'
Groused, opened status.
Haang, getting wet again. Why like this seeing President lately? Crave getting pounded. But how to ask? Never initiated...
Only mounted men Jang Palbok brought. No seduction skills. Smile'd have men lining up—wasted potential.
"Only with old man's men till now?"
"Yes."
"What if you want first?"
"Pardon?"
"How'd you make it happen when you craved?"