The Wife's Desperate Secret
Until just the day before yesterday, I had been a grade-5 congressional secretary in an assemblyman's office. Or more accurately, a lackey for that utter piece of shit. Fuck, I'd slaved away with undying loyalty, but that bastard assemblyman told me to quit. I'd graduated college dreaming of becoming a congressman myself one day, commanding the world. I spotted an internship posting and applied like lightning, got lucky and passed. During the last election, I barely slept, working my ass off to help him win reelection, and snagged the grade-5 spot as a reward. But one tiny slip-up, and after just three years, he kicks me to the curb like trash.
My first paycheck from the National Assembly Secretariat hit my account, so I bought a car right away. Now suddenly unemployed, I was stressing over what to do with it. What a shitty world. No, that shitty assemblyman. Should've gutted him with a knife. But a congressional secretary's position—paid as a special public servant by the state—is still on a leash held by the assemblyman. It's worse than a fly's life. Vowing I'd wear a congressman's badge someday, even if I had to lick asses and eat shit, I packed my bags and headed down to Busan. Too pissed to go home, I drove to Gwangalli Beach and called Jeong-ah.
"Not going to work?"
"I can be a bit late today."
"Still, you gotta clock in on time when you're taking their money."
"Sigh~ Yeah, got it."
Mom was nagging, so I got up, ate breakfast, and left the house. Couldn't call friends first thing in the morning, so I decided on the library—the easiest place to kill time. I needed a quiet spot to figure out how the hell I'd pin on a congressman's badge.
"Secretary Park."
"Yes, ma'am. How've you been? Oh, and I'm not a secretary anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"The assemblyman told me to quit."
"Where are you right now?"
"I came down to Busan yesterday."
"You did? Can I see you in Busan today, then?"
"Is something wrong?"
"I just wanted to see your face, but with this happening... Anyway, you free this afternoon?"
"Yeah, I'm unemployed now."
"Alright, I'm heading out now, so make some time."
"I'll come to the airport."
"No, I'm taking the train."
"I'll meet you at Busan Station when you arrive. I'll tell Secretary Kim to book it."
"No, I'll handle it. I want to talk to you alone, and I don't want him knowing I'm coming down."
"Do you know how to book it, ma'am?"
"No, but I can buy a ticket at the station."
"Even on a weekday, late trains mean long waits. I'll book from here and send you the seat number. Hold on."
"Can you book from Busan?"
"Yes, even on your phone these days."
The woman I called ma'am was a chaebol heiress, only child with no sons in the family. Her father—the bastard assemblyman who fired me—had arranged their marriage after her young husband-to-be passed the bar and became a judge. He'd ditched the robes to run for office, thanks to her dad's party nomination pull and massive campaign funds. Born the pampered only daughter of a wealthy clan, she'd gone straight from college graduation to marriage. She'd lived as Lee Hoe-jang of Daesan Group's daughter or Congresswoman Hwang Seong-tae's wife, never really doing much on her own.
Anyway, I quickly pulled up the Korail site on my phone, booked a KTX from Seoul Station to Busan, and called Eun-mi back.
"Ma'am, it's Park Maru."
"Yes, Secretary Park."
"I told you, I'm not a secretary anymore. Anyway, ticket's booked. Head to Seoul Station and take the 10:30 train. You'll arrive just after 1. I'll be waiting at Busan Station."
"How do I get the ticket?"
"Just board. If they check, call me back."
"Really, just get on?"
"Yes. They don't even check much anymore. Worst case, I'll send the mobile ticket to your phone."
"Got it. See you in Busan."
Call ended. Busan Station's only 20 minutes away, so I figured two hours at the library first.
"Ma'am, you arrived?"
"Yes, on the escalator up now."
"Come to the exit. I'm here waiting."
I spotted her approaching the exit. Raised without hardship, she looked stunning in jeans and a shoulder bag—late 30s but fresh as her 20s, slender and vibrant.
"Wait long?"
"No, I timed it perfectly. This way."
"Where to?"
"Secretary Park, had lunch?"
"Not yet."
"Let's eat, then."
"What sounds good?"
"Haeundae has Dalmaji Hill, right? Quiet, nice vibe."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll take you there."
Pulled out of the lot, reserved a table, hit the waterfront road then the city expressway. Weekday, no traffic. Easy drive.
"Why'd you quit?"
"I didn't quit—the assemblyman made me."
"What happened?"
"I slipped up once."
"Bad enough to fire you?"
"He told me to schedule a meet with the Minister of Culture. Couldn't reach the contact, said I'd follow up later, then forgot."
"That a big deal?"
"Not immediately, but as Culture Committee chair, meeting the minister isn't trivial."
"Still, firing you over that?"
"……."
"I'll talk to him. You just play dumb."
"Understood."
Off the expressway onto city streets, up to Dalmaji Hill and a French restaurant with killer views. Not my taste, but perfect for Eun-mi. I'd reserved an ocean-view window.
"Wow, amazing. How'd you know this place?"
"Brought a guest here once."
"View's perfect. Thanks."
Her grateful smile was adorable. Finished lamb rack lunch, moved to the terrace—she sipped a cocktail, I iced coffee—enjoying the cool Haeundae sea breeze.
"Secretary Park, you can be trusted, right?"
"What's up?"
"Today's stuff, everything I say—total secret?"
"Yes. Whatever it is, my lips are sealed."
"Let's find somewhere quiet to talk."
Her face turned serious. What could it be? Curiosity mixed with worry. Hard to find a spot, though. Even this place's private room felt off. Headed out to the car.
"Ma'am, can't find a quiet place. Restaurants with rooms are it. Can we talk in the car?"
"Passersby might see."
"True."
"Know any hotels?"
"Not specially, but... yeah, a quiet one."
"Book a room, then. I'm staying overnight anyway."
"Paradise Hotel's comfier if you're sleeping over."
"Too many eyes there. Small one's fine."
Called Minrak-dong Hotel, booked under my name. Parked outside, grabbed the keycard, then moved to the underground lot, elevator up to the room. She kept her head down the whole way, like a cheating wife dodging glances. Relaxed only inside.
"Clean and nice. Room rate?"
"Don't worry."
"Pfft, you're unemployed till he calls back. Take this."
"Really, it's fine."
"I know secretaries go unpaid when fired, no severance. Prepared a bit hearing your story. Take it."
"No need, ma'am."
"Don't make me feel bad. Plus, I need a favor."
"Anything. If I can, of course."
"Secretary Park, mind a drink?"
"You had a cocktail earlier—okay?"
"Fine. Sober, it's hard to ask."
"What'll it be?"
"Wine in the room?"
"Probably, but pricey. Ten minutes out—convenience store next door."
"Hotel staff'll hate that."
"They know. Grab from my laptop bag in the car."
"Please?"
"Sure. Snacks?"
"Cheese is good."
Down to the car, emptied laptop bag, dashed to the store for the priciest wine and cheese, opener too. Called before ringing—footsteps, door clicked open.
"Quick."
"Don't know wine, grabbed decent."
Set them down, carefully uncorked.
"You're good."
"Thanks. Learned once."
"Thought you didn't drink."
"Doesn't mean I can't open a bottle."
Poured hers; she filled mine. Didn't stop her.
"Cheers."
Glasses clinked clear. She savored, sipped.
"Not bad. Good pick."
"Lucky. Grabbed what looked okay."
"Pfft, priciest one, huh?"
"Guilty."
"Knew it. Safe bet."
We chuckled lightly. Her face bright, innocent. But shadows crept in.
"Secretary Park. Secret for sure?"
"Yes. Swear on my life."
"Even from the assemblyman?"
"Yes. Don't worry."
"Help me."
"Of course, if I can. Spill."
"It's……."
She hesitated, poured wine, gulped.
"Slow down."
"……."
Ignored, refilled, gulped again. Needed liquid courage.
"Secretary Park, what do I do? Sob~ sob~"
Sudden tears. I waited silently—let it flow. Questions unnecessary; once started, words spill. She looked up, tear-streaked.
"Ma'am, how can I help?"
"Maru, I went clubbing in Hongdae with friends recently. Wanted to since college, but Dad wouldn't let me."
"Yeah."
"Danced, merged tables. Woke up in a motel—blackout drunk."
"……."
Head down, she spilled. No need to ask more; clear enough.
"Blackmailed?"
"Yes."
"What does he know? Your friends?"
"Phone, apartment. Friend too."
"She's blackmailed?"
"Yes. That's why we called you."
"Got it. I'll find a way."
"Trust you?"
"You wouldn't come if not."
"If he finds out, disaster. Family too. Please."
"I'll handle it. Don't stress, forget it."
"Call my friend down?"
"I'll meet her in Seoul. She's married."
"Tomorrow midday, we go up together. Her dad's in business—known face."
"Call her morning, if free."
"Can you fix it? Money no issue—please."
"No need. What you gave covers it."
"That's your severance. Hiring help costs."
"I'll manage. Sleep now."
"If it leaks, I'm dead. Know that?"
"Yes. Secret safe."
"I'll wash up."
She wobbled—wine hit hard. Escorted to bathroom, turned to leave.
"Ma'am, leave it to me. Sleep easy."
"Leaving now?"
"Yes, so you can rest."
"Want to talk more. Busy?"
"No, but misunderstandings..."
"Who'd misunderstand?"
"Staff."
"They already think what they think."
"True."
Hours in a hotel room—plausible deniability gone. Water ran; she emerged towel-drying wet hair, in a robe.
"Maru, shower too."
"I'm good."
"Shower, robe—relax."
Caved, showered, out.
"No robe?"
"Clothes fine."
"Pfft."
"Won't eat you. Robe up."
"Ma'am. Men eat, not women."
"Anyway, I feel weird."
Switched to robe, sat across. Gwangalli Bridge night view sparkled beautifully. With a lover, paradise.
"Pretty."
"Great spot."
"If your girlfriend saw, jealous."
"Ma'am."
"Truth hurts? We're adults."
"Fair."
"I'm not pretty anymore, huh?"
"Nonsense. You look 20s, stunning."
"Men's eyes change alone with pretty women."
"If not you, mine would."
"Why not me?"
"Assemblyman's wife."
"Attractive in your eyes?"
"Obviously."
She slid next to me. I shifted; she smiled, pressed close. Flash: Use this woman to survive! Assemblyman's wife, chaebol daughter—power. Tension eased.
"Just want to feel alive awhile."
"……."
"Even if you think I'm dirty from that."
"Not dirty! Bad luck."
"Really?"
"Ma'am, no one calls that dirty nowadays. Shake it off like a mad dog bite."
"Thanks, Maru."
Leaned head on shoulder. Her scent intoxicated. Must hold back, I repeated, but heat built below. Silence stretched. Shoulder ached, but snoring softly—she slept. Whispered near ear.
"Ma'am~"
"……."
"Can't sleep here……."
Held waist steady, shook shoulder gently.
"Ma'am, wake up."
"Ugh~ annoying~"
"Catch cold."
"Annoying."
"Sorry, carrying you."
Scooped her to bed, covered with sheets, rose. Arms pulled me down; lips crashed.
"Ma'am, Secretary Park."
"Maru, let me."
"Can't."
"'Cause I'm dirty? Go then."
"You know that's not it."
"You know I'm scared. Only way to ensure secrecy."
"No. I swear—till I die."
"No. Contract. Possess me, you'll protect more, keep secret. I can help you."
"Ma'am, I keep my word."
"That's why I ask. Don't go."
Tears, embrace. Humans go extreme for security. Never imagined her targeting me. Could fix with less humiliation. But I slid under covers—truth, I'd hoped.
Straddled, gazed. Cheeks flushed—wine or excitement? Cute beyond her age. Kissed forehead softly. My raging hardness pressed her belly, but couldn't just use her.
Gently kissed brows, forehead, neck. Hand caressed swelling breasts, squeezed teasingly, waiting for heat. She needed pleasure to crave more, become hidden patron.
Lips at earlobe, breath teasing—she twitched, moaned softly. Legs wrapped mine. Nibbled lobe, licked rim—grabbed my head, legs tightened fiercely.