Page 103 of Ruthless Touch

“We’ve been dating for seven years, Gun-woo. She stayed with me through medical school and has been very respectable and well-tempered. She’ll make a great doctor’s wife,” he explains in his natural patronizing manner. “Someday, when you’re done partying and going on benders, you’ll understand. You’ll find a respectable woman and settle down... if you grow up a little.”

My teeth clench. “I’ve grown up plenty. We hardly see each other, hyung. You don’t know my life.”

“I know enough. Appa has told me.”

Before I can respond with something that’ll probably get me kicked out of this overpriced circus, an announcement is made that dinner is officially beginning.

Ho-seok steps away to take his seat at the head of the table. I roll my eyes at the pompous way he walks, then head off to my seat.

The dinner plays out like I predicted it would—an overly rehearsed and scripted affair where people asskiss and flaunt themselves.

Course after course appears before us, dishes like bulgogi that’s been marinated for days, kimchi aged to perfection, japchae with vegetables so fresh they’re straight from the fields, and banchan arranged like tiny works of art.

The food is undoubtedly expensive and expertly prepared, but I’m not hungry. My migraine has grown worse, the pressure in my skull a constant.

I glance around at the other tables, noting the different servers weaving between guests.

My mind wanders to Elise again. If she could’ve at least attended as my date, tonight wouldn’t be so unbearable.

Toward the end of the meal, Ho-seok clears his throat and taps his glass with a knife. “I have a declaration to make.”

He turns to Na-kyung, a cute but dowdy girl with an overbite who’s been sitting quietly at his side all evening, looking like she’s honored to even be invited let alone his future bride.

I watch in boredom as he goes through the motions of asking her to marry him. This dinner is obviously nothing more than a formality.

In reality, Ho-seok’s parents and Na-kyung’s parents have already discussed the union in great detail and given their approvals. This is just theater for the extended family and business associates and society at large.

She says yes to predictable cheers and applause, officially beginning social hour.

I use the distraction to try and slip away unnoticed.

“Gun-woo, I hope you’re not trying to slither out of here like a snake.”

I stop at the sound of Father addressing me. It’s the first time we’ve been alone all night. He’s looking flashy in his usual button-up attire and gold watch. But despite the celebratory mood in the air, he’s as stony as usual.

We’ve wound up near the restaurant entrance. Everyone else is on the opposite side of the room, laughing and chatting away.

“I have a migraine and need to go.”

“Stop lying. I know you’ve been up to no good. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll let you suffer at the Cheongryong-je’s feet.”

“I don’t need help from anyone,” I say plainly. “Least of all you.”

“You say that now when it’s easy,” he retorts. The corner of his lips curl in a sneer as he steps closer. “Will you say that when things get hard and you’re in too deep?”

“What is it you think I’m guilty of, Appa? Tell me quickly.”

“Your disappearances have been suspicious. Your loyalties are being questioned.”

I open my mouth to respond—maybe even tell him exactly where he can shove his questions about my loyalty—when the restaurant doors flip open and a group of uniformed security personnel stride in.

They start positioning themselves around the room like sentries. A couple others approach us directly.

“Sir,” one of them says in Hangul, an urgent note in his voice. “There’s been an incident. A security breach. We need you to follow us.”

Father glares from me to the security guard, then nods and follows him out the restaurant. I come up the rear.

It’s as we walk out that murmurs have started rippling through the dining room. The dinner guests are already scandalized and wondering what could be happening.