Love Born of Pity Chapter 17

Do Yeonjae had been meticulously monitoring Kwon Jiho through his tablet ever since he arrived at work. He didn’t let go of the device even as he walked to the conference room for a presentation by the planning team on a new loan product launch.

He zoomed in on Kwon Jiho, who mostly sat still due to the limited space. Kwon Jiho probably hadn’t noticed, but the bite marks on the back of his neck weren’t completely hidden by his turtleneck. Did he really think they were invisible just because the front was covered? The red marks at the base of his neck, covered with a bandage, looked incredibly cute.

“Honestly.”

Kim, his secretary, immediately reacted to the unconscious murmur.

“Did you say something, sir?”

“No. Let’s go in.”

Even after sitting down in the conference room, he didn’t put the tablet down. He had no interest in the planning team’s presentation, preoccupied with following Kwon Jiho’s movements on the small screen with a serious expression.

Worries filled Kwon Jiho’s face, half-hidden behind his mask. What was bothering him now? He wished he could see inside his head. When Kwon Jiho rubbed his chin, Do Yeonjae unconsciously mirrored the action. How long had he been watching him like this?

A large man awkwardly lingered at the entrance. The familiar figure triggered a memory. He realized it was the man he had encountered when he picked up Kwon Jiho. The man who clearly had a crush on him.

Kwon Jiho hadn’t yet noticed the man’s creepy behavior, loitering outside and observing him. Do Yeonjae’s expression grew serious. Unable to wait any longer, he raised his hand and interrupted the meeting.

“Let’s take a short break.”

The executives looked puzzled by his suggestion to take a break only minutes after the meeting had started, but they agreed. The lights in the darkened conference room came on, and Do Yeonjae immediately stood up. He strode out of the room and quickly disappeared.

As soon as he entered his private office, he turned up the tablet’s volume to maximum. The atmosphere was strange. What was with all the fuss over a single drink? It wasn’t like he’d bought him a whole cafe.

Do Yeonjae tugged at his constricting tie. The sight of their mutual interest and Kwon Jiho’s shy smile made his hand move involuntarily. He had simply been watching Kwon Jiho’s day, out of habit, without any particular curiosity, but now a sense of displeasure welled up inside him.

The ringing tone continued. The fact that Kwon Jiho wasn’t answering immediately irritated him. He was about to hang up and call the academy’s number when Kwon Jiho’s voice finally answered.

“I asked what you’re doing.”

Kwon Jiho responded with a clumsy lie. Once the dam broke, every word out of his mouth was infuriating. He’d been noticeably flustered when Do Yeonjae suggested closing the academy due to financial reasons, and then he even checked to see if someone was outside the door.

Was that bastard reluctant? Because he wouldn’t be able to see the other man if the academy closed?

Kwon Jiho’s constant attention to the door grated on Do Yeonjae’s nerves. The buoyant feeling he’d had watching Kwon Jiho flitting around with a naive expression plummeted.

“Mr. Kwon Jiho isn’t listening to me all of a sudden.”

There was no response to his murmur. Instead, Kwon Jiho said he would increase the number of students. His excuses about liking the piano and the children were pathetic.

“If the real reason you want to keep the academy open is something else, you’re dead.”

The overly enthusiastic look in Kwon Jiho’s eyes and the strange atmosphere between him and the other man lingered in his mind. Had he been too kind? He should have kept him on a tighter leash.

“Ha, fuck.”

His vision reddened. The fact that he wouldn’t have known about this if he hadn’t installed the cameras infuriated Do Yeonjae even more. Had Kwon Jiho been like this before? He’d been too lenient, thinking there was nowhere to discipline him. Tap, tap—At the knock on the door, Do Yeonjae threw the tablet down irritably and turned his head. Secretary Kim entered the CEO’s office with an awkward expression.

“Sir, you need to leave now.”

“Ah.”

Do Yeonjae removed his hand from his temple, which he’d been pressing as if he had a headache, and crossed the office with a cold expression.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nothing much.”

“…Yes?”

“He’s annoying me.”

Secretary Kim understood the vague, subjectless statement, even though anyone else wouldn’t have.

“Should I put someone on him?”

“No.”

He prided himself on knowing Kwon Jiho better than anyone else, having been involved with him for three years. He had thought Kwon Jiho wasn’t brazen enough to see anyone else behind his back, but he had miscalculated. It seemed his heart, once fully occupied, now had room for other thoughts with his brother awake.

“Ah.”

This interest in another person would disappear once that tiny bit of free space in his heart was gone. If he made it so Kwon Jiho couldn’t even think of anyone else, he’d quickly forget, and he’d return to being the Kwon Jiho that only he knew.

“I think I’ll play the role of creditor for a while.”

“…Yes?”

“Prepare a report on Mr. Kwon Jiho’s monthly interest and principal payments. How much he’s paid over the past three years, how much he still owes, and how much is added each month.”

Secretary Kim, who had been concentrating on Do Yeonjae’s voice, replied that he understood. When asked if there was anything else, Do Yeonjae nodded.

“Also, look into rehabilitation hospitals to transfer Kwon Heeyeon to. Find a few rehabilitation therapists who can be dedicated solely to his care.”

“If we do that…”

“Mr. Kwon Jiho’s debt will increase with every breath Kwon Heeyeon takes.”

As Do Yeonjae said, Kwon Jiho’s debt would balloon to an astronomical figure.

“He’s getting distracted because he has too much freedom. He doesn’t even know who he should be wagging his tail for.”

“…I’ll have it ready for you to review as soon as the meeting is over.”

Do Yeonjae nodded and entered the conference room, putting on a gentle smile.

“I think we’ve rested enough. Shall we resume?”

♬⋆.˚

Kwon Jiho was helping the children leave the academy while periodically talking on the phone with Kwon Heeyeon’s caregiver. There hadn’t been any particular problems, but when the caregiver mentioned Kwon Heeyeon had fallen while leaving the bathroom, Kwon Jiho sighed.

The caregiver explained that he wasn’t seriously hurt. Fortunately, she’d been holding onto him, so he only bruised his knee. She said she was telling him to avoid any misunderstandings, even though it wasn’t a big deal.

She told him not to worry, but he couldn’t help it. During the call, Kwon Heeyeon’s cries and irritated voice, laced with a metallic edge, asking why she was telling his brother, came through the phone. The caregiver abruptly ended the call, saying she had to go.

Kwon Jiho stared blankly at his phone after the one-sided disconnection, slowly coming back to his senses. His mind was numb. He hadn’t considered what it would be like after Kwon Heeyeon woke up, so he didn’t know how to react to his brother’s attitude.

He supposed he shouldn’t have expected a tearful reunion, given that he was the cause of the accident. He should be grateful that his brother even allowed him to visit. The lack of support made him feel increasingly forlorn. Thinking back to the time he’d had to watch his brother dying, all of this should feel insignificant.

His eyes stung. He lifted his head and took a deep breath, trying to fight back the tears. The clinging mask felt suffocating, but he couldn’t remove it.

“Take it slow…”

Right now, he needed to focus on Kwon Heeyeon’s recovery. This wasn’t the time to be hurt by his brother’s behavior. Kwon Jiho patted his cheeks as if to bring himself back to reality, then prepared to see Eunsol, who was the last child left, off. He placed her backpack and shoe bag on the table and waited briefly, and the child trudged out of the practice room.

“Teacher.”

“Yes?”

“My fingers are too short. It’s so hard to reach from C to C.”

“When I was Eunsol’s age, I found that difficult too. But you know what? Playing the piano makes your fingers longer. Then reaching from C to C will be super easy.”

Eunsol’s eyes widened at his whispered secret. The child’s face brightened as she looked back and forth between her own fingers and Kwon Jiho’s.

“Then Eunsol’s fingers will grow long soon too!”

“Of course.”

Sitting across the table from Eunsol, Kwon Jiho answered the child’s innocent and pure questions while checking his watch. As he was getting her bag ready, thinking her guardian would arrive soon, the door opened at just the right moment.

“Daddy!”

Eunsol jumped off her chair and into the man’s arms. Lim Seonghun lifted her up and bowed his head to Kwon Jiho.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go eat dinner quickly.”

“Curry! Curry!”

“…Um, Jiho.”

Kwon Jiho, who had been about to see them off, smiled and met Lim Seonghun’s gaze.

“If you have time, would you like to have dinner together? You can refuse. I just wanted to thank you for always being so accommodating. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Ah. Well…”

Kwon Jiho avoided Lim Seonghun’s gaze, looking embarrassed by Eunsol’s expectant look.

“…I’m sorry. I have a prior engagement.”

“Okay! Let’s go, Eunsol!”

Lim Seonghun turned around with a smile, then realized he hadn’t taken Eunsol’s bag and turned back hurriedly. He awkwardly gathered her belongings, bowed his head, and practically ran out of the academy. Eunsol, clinging to Lim Seonghun, asked her father, whose face was flushed up to his neck, if he was on fire, and laughed brightly.