Chapter 1
“I’ll help you find your memories.”
The woman looked like she was about to cry. Lee Heon stared at her with a blank expression.
It was the third time they had met.
A business meeting for formality’s sake. Something routine and expected for him may have felt like a huge opportunity for her. He was sick and tired of the same old stories.
That look of quiet desperation he had seen so many times. The eyes that kept following him persistently. Whether that was an act or sincere, he didn’t care to find out.
“I can do it. If I can help you get your memory back, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Her added words, spoken as she bit her lip, made one of Lee Heon’s eyebrows rise.
That one lost year meant nothing to him. But she made it seem like something he absolutely had to remember, as if now was the only chance.
People treated his memory loss like a sacred weapon, swinging it around recklessly. Yet it had no real power to affect him.
Lee Heon found that odd.
Everything about her, her gaze, her actions pointed to one thing clearly: she believed the two of them had been something special.
But none of the others who tried to approach him using that excuse had ever said what she just had.
“And what makes you think I’ll ask you to do something so simple?”
Despite his repeated warnings.
She kept touching something deep inside him.
Again and again.
“Whatever it is.”
Lee Heon let out a breath, half in disbelief, and stepped forward with long strides. The woman flinched but didn’t back away.
“Then.”
“Even if I asked you to get in bed with me would you do it?”
In the next moment, his eyes glowed dangerously in the dark.
It was a peaceful Monday morning. Dense silence settled inside the small car. Even the busy chaos of the morning rush couldn’t find a way in.
A tense kind of peace. The stillness, broken only by the engine’s hum, was shattered in an instant. Lee Heon checked the phone that blinked loudly despite its quiet vibration, and his lips curled in a cold smile.
Old men sure find things out fast these days.
Hey, you bastard! What the hell are you doing?!
The moment the call connected; the furious voice made Lee Heon instinctively pull the phone an arm’s length from his ear.
Secretary Yoon glanced nervously in the rearview mirror.
“I’m not deaf. Lower your voice.”
Lee Heon replied calmly; his face emotionless. Still, the shouting carried through the distance, loud and angry.
Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes? You idiot! What nonsense did you spill at the meeting?!
“Ah.”
With a polite grunt, Lee Heon recalled yesterday’s brief meeting with cold detachment.
“What exactly can you offer me?”
“What?”
“Not your family. Not your father. You. What do you have to offer me? If we’re going to marry without love, I should at least feel tempted, shouldn’t I?”
In other words, he was asking what she was trying to gain by showing up there.
Their intentions were obvious. They wanted a convenient marriage under the guise of a deal. It was a tired script.
The woman had stormed off, face twisted as if deeply insulted. All from that one line. That such pride could be so easily hurt it was laughable.
A similarly ranked family. Polished looks, suggesting a privileged upbringing. Marriageable age. In this world, those were predictable motivations.
Even if talks broke down repeatedly, it was always the other side that had something to lose.
But Lee Heon never lost anything. That’s what they all failed to understand.
He could guess how they had painted him. She must not have left much of an impression he could barely recall her face after just two days.
“I was being efficient. We all know how this works. Win-win. Maybe she didn’t like that.”
And you still had to go there and make a scene?! Is that what I taught you?!
No, he hadn’t been taught that, but he had learned plenty by watching.
“Calm down. This isn’t good for your blood pressure. You should think about your age.”
If you’re messed up in the head, you could at least be obedient! Are you going to keep rebelling forever? You’re not a child anymore!
Lee Heon’s lips tightened into a cold line.
Messed up. A word that followed him ever since the accident.
It annoyed him but it wasn’t untrue.
“I’m sorry you see this as rebellion.”
But if his father thought such words would hurt him, he was wrong.
With a graceful hand, he brushed his chin.
“Then maybe you should’ve thought twice before spreading rumors that your son was damaged. You already got what you wanted out of it.”
Three years ago, Lee Heon barely survived a car crash. People said it was a miracle.
A third-generation chaebol, now with fragmented memories. A perfect story for media manipulation. Sympathy and attention flooded in.
If anyone gained from it, it was his father.
Or maybe now, he was just trying to get rid of him on the cheap by marrying him off.
You… You little bastard… You want to see your father die, don’t you?
Click.
Lee Heon ended the call before it finished. The phone rang again, but he put it on silent and tossed it aside.
If it were important, they’d go through Secretary Yoon. They were almost at the company anyway.
He could picture the old man fuming in red and purple, but he didn’t care. Whether he lived or died his father, who had tasted all the power and money in the world, valued only his own life now.
With a frustrated sigh, Lee Heon brushed his hair back and looked out the window. It was a habitual, mechanical act.
But then, his brow furrowed. He’d spotted something. A small figure stood at the far end of his gaze. Light, silent steps stopped at the building’s lobby.
Clear, delicate, elegant. A woman with bright red lips and a plain black hair tie stood there, tying her hair neatly. Her careful hands brushed back the stray hairs, revealing a pale, slender neck.
Damn it. Again.
He had seen this scene somewhere before. A sharp pain stabbed his head. It has been happening more often lately. Bearable, but always irritating.
Secretary Yoon, noticing his boss’s furrowed brow, quickly asked:
“Executive Director, are you okay?”
“Yoon, did you have coffee today?”
“Sir? Uh… yes.”
“Then have another cup.”
“Sorry?”
Before he could respond, the backseat door flung open, and the car lurched to a stop.
“Sir—Executive Director!”
But Lee Heon ignored the panicked voice and strode toward the lobby without looking back.
Only empty echoes followed him. It was still early. The café on the first floor of the office building was quiet.
Lee Heon looked around at the people who didn’t even glance his way.
More precisely, he stared at one person. Someone he recognized.
A woman with soft eyes who covered her mouth and laughed quietly at something the man next to her said.
Do Ji-soo. Chief curator of Gallery Haram. Said to have risen quickly, backed by Taesung Group.
A talented planner recommended by someone close to his late mother. Nothing more, nothing less to Lee Heon.
‘Don’t you remember me?’
She had spoken those words with a desperate face, like a tragic heroine in a drama. Now, her gentle smile seemed so clean, it felt fake.
‘Are you trying to say we had something special?’
Lee Heon didn’t believe in love. Personal feelings only ruined everything.
His mother, who loved alone her whole life and died alone, was proof enough.
‘I may have lost my memory, but I’m not an idiot.’
‘What? You thought I’d be easy just because I’m a little damaged?’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘You think I haven’t seen women like you before?’
She didn’t hide the hurt his harsh words caused. She was transparent.
‘Let’s pretend today didn’t happen. I won’t say anything to the director. But—’
‘If something like this happens again, not only is this project over, you won’t step foot in Haram again.’
He had meant every word. He didn’t regret it.
So why—
Why did it twist his gut to see her now?
Maybe it was because she was laughing so easily with another man, even after saying all that.
Maybe it was because she smiled at him like it meant nothing.
“Executive Director, is iced Americano okay?”
Secretary Yoon had rushed in, wiping sweat from his brow.
“I’m not picky. Order whatever.”
“Sir?”
Without further explanation, Lee Heon handed over his card. Secretary Yoon took it, confused.
“Ah—yes, sir.”
Still dazed, he went to the counter to order.
Lee Heon’s eyes, however, stayed locked on the cheerful pair.
Then Do Ji-soo’s clear eyes met him.
It was no accident. She had been watching him, too. She flinched slightly, even from a distance. The young man standing beside her turned around. He looked much younger.
With a cold smirk, Lee Heon walked straight toward them.
