Desires Chapter 5.1 - Provocations

Working held profound significance for Song Yeongin. For someone who had lived detached from any sense of belonging, a job was the only proof that there was a place to return to. No matter what it was, for Song Yeongin, working, sweating, and earning the reward of labor was what mattered. That alone was the sole reason for living. If that were to stop, it felt as though he would return to that time when he neither lived nor died.

In front of his colleagues, he was dragged like a dog by Cha Woojin. Some might have witnessed him being shoved into the supply closet and the door being locked. Someone might have heard his suppressed groans. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t anticipated the rampant gossip that would follow.

When Song Yeongin shamelessly showed up at Laqueuer as if nothing had happened, his colleagues whispered behind his back, stealing glances at him. However, no one dared to ask him anything directly to his face. It wasn’t hard to guess that this was thanks to Jang Haesung’s thorough cleanup.

The authoritative man who strode across the hall was, in fact, the owner of Laqueuer and their employer, and the fact that Song Yeongin was entangled with him acted like an untouchable taboo for Laqueuer’s employees. It had all been neatly wrapped up by Jang Haesung and Manager Kang Miyeon.

As a result, aside from simple greetings upon arriving at work, no one readily spoke to him. Everyone at Laqueuer was cautiously watching him. They all wore expressions as if touching him might cost them their jobs.

“Mr. Song Yeongin, what are you doing? Not working… Check the liquor inventory.”

The only one who still treated him as before was Manager Kang Miyeon. Nothing was more comforting than the fact that his direct superior treated him as if nothing had happened. If he had seen even a hint of contempt in her eyes, Song Yeongin would have had no choice but to leave Laqueuer of his own accord.

🌫️

His lean back was carrying a box heavier than his own body. He had finished organizing whiskey boxes in the liquor storage and completing the inventory check.

Beads of sweat formed on Song Yeongin’s forehead. It was then that, with a ‘creak!’, the door opened, and someone entered the liquor storage where Song Yeongin was left alone.

“Um…”

At the sound of an unfamiliar man’s voice calling him, Song Yeongin turned around.

It was the security guard who had blocked Cha Woojin’s path the day he dragged Song Yeongin out of the hall. A recent hire, he was one of the few male employees in Laqueuer’s hall, alongside Song Yeongin.

“Yes…”

Song Yeongin wiped the sweat from his pale forehead. As he brushed back his damp hair, the delicate forehead and eyebrows beneath his slightly sprouting hairline were revealed. He was panting heavily, having just finished the arduous task of organizing the liquor.

He glanced at the chest area of the security guard’s black uniform. His name tag read ‘Na Hangyeol’.

“This… I found it where you passed by that day. It looked important…”

The recent hire was casually speaking to him as if they were already close, using informal language. His tall stature, befitting a security guard, and his fresh, youthful appearance suggested he was either Song Yeongin’s age or younger.

“…Oh!”

Song Yeongin was startled.

What he held in his hand was an old rosary ring, a keepsake from his mother. It had been stored in a small velvet pouch, so how could it…

“Is this yours?”

“It’s mine, yes… Thank you.”

In truth, he couldn’t clearly recall everything from that day, as if he’d been struck on the head. Perhaps it was because he had cried too much. Aside from Cha Woojin’s fiery anger toward him, he hadn’t even realized he’d lost his mother’s ring until now.

It must have fallen out while he was being dragged by Cha Woojin. He couldn’t fathom how the ring, which had been inside the small velvet pouch, had come out, leaving only the ring behind.

The small velvet pouch he used to store the ring contained a four-leaf clover his mother had personally picked long ago, along with a Bible verse she had handwritten and carefully laminated.

That humble four-leaf clover and rosary ring were, regrettably, the entirety of the keepsakes left by his mother, who had owned little.

Whenever Song Yeongin saw his mother’s four-leaf clover, he recalled her gentle face, still girlish and like a wildflower even in her later years. Did she ever believe that luck would come one day? She must have, or she wouldn’t have been able to go on living.

The handsome young man his age approached Song Yeongin confidently and handed him the ring. Song Yeongin reached out to take it. As the ring was passed, their fingers brushed.

“Did you happen to see a small pouch near the ring? A tiny cloth pouch… with embroidery…”

“Well, I didn’t see it, but I’ll check around there again.”

As he handed over the ring, he stared openly at Song Yeongin. Unlike the other employees who avoided the topic, he bluntly asked.

“That guy… is he really the boss?”

The direct question and rude tone—he hadn’t even introduced himself. Being spoken to informally by someone he’d just met wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Do you know me?”

The security guard looked flustered.

“I’m really grateful you found my ring, but speaking so casually…”

“Oh, sorry… I asked around, and they said we’re the same age. So, you can speak casually to me too.”

Song Yeongin was a bit dumbfounded. He looked up at the tall man. This wasn’t a school; it was a workplace. Song Yeongin was a full-time employee at Laqueuer, and if this man was a security guard, he was likely a recently hired part-timer. Song Yeongin hadn’t given permission to speak casually or to ask such questions. As he pondered how to respond to the man’s rudeness, the guard spoke again.

“Up close, you really look like a painting. Well, I thought so from afar too…”

Song Yeongin felt utterly bewildered by this peer’s manner of speaking.

“Thank you so much for finding the ring. It’s precious to me, and I found it thanks to you.”

Giving up on further conversation, Song Yeongin hurriedly tried to leave the liquor storage.

“Hey, wait, what’s the rush?”

“No personal talk in the storage.”

“I know, just a sec… I want to be friends with you.”

Is this guy an idiot?

Among Laqueuer’s colleagues, rumors abounded that Song Yeongin was closely tied to the real owner of Laqueuer. They treated him as if he were the boss’s spy, shunning him and avoiding even simple conversation. Yet here was someone saying they wanted to be friends…

“Didn’t you hear the rumors about me?”

The peer responded shamelessly.

“What rumors? Oh…! That you’re involved with that guy, the real boss of Laqueuer?”

Song Yeongin’s ears turned bright red in an instant.

“That the boss buys you luxury goods and has a top-tier foreign car waiting in the parking lot to pick you up after work?”

Song Yeongin was mortified by the brazen gossip. Had the rumors already escalated to that level?

People’s mouths are terrifying.

The peer continued shamelessly.

“What’s that got to do with me? Don’t you have any friends? I’m just saying, let’s be friends, same age and all. What’s the big deal…”

…Friends? He was even smirking playfully, as if teasing.

“You’re funny. Who said I have a crush on you?”

Song Yeongin couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“I’m Na Hangyeol. Let’s speak casually, you and me.”

Na Hangyeol introduced himself with a smile, extending his hand for a handshake and waiting for Song Yeongin’s response. Unable to bear the awkward silence, Song Yeongin replied softly.

“I’m… Song Yeongin.”

When Song Yeongin didn’t take his hand, Na Hangyeol awkwardly withdrew it.

“You’re famous, you know.”

“Me?!”

“Pretty famous on SNS…”

Song Yeongin looked puzzled.

“Guests have secretly taken photos of you and posted them… They say quite a few people come just to see you.”

Does he have no filter?

Every impulsive, blunt word from this guy only left Song Yeongin more bewildered. He was definitely being teased.

“I just wanted to be friends with a celebrity.”

At that moment, another person entered the liquor storage. It was Jang Haesung.

“Mr. Song Yeongin, you’ve been absent for a while…”

Since the James Han incident, Jang Haesung had been closely monitoring Song Yeongin’s activities within Laqueuer. Song Yeongin couldn’t protest. He didn’t even have the nerve to.

Jang Haesung glanced between Na Hangyeol and Song Yeongin. But Na Hangyeol didn’t care. Was he naturally oblivious to others’ gazes, or was his claim of having no ulterior motives genuine? Even with Jang Haesung standing protectively behind Song Yeongin, he boldly made his demand.

“Give me your number. Friends should at least have each other’s contact info.”

Song Yeongin tried to lightly brush off Na Hangyeol’s words. But as he turned to leave without sharing his number, he suddenly wondered if he was being overly guarded. Exchanging numbers with a colleague wasn’t a crime. Why was he so conscious of Jang Haesung’s gaze?

Jang Haesung was watching them intently from the doorway of the liquor storage.

‘Does even this get reported to Cha Woojin?’

For a moment, Song Yeongin wanted to test that suspicion.

Na Hangyeol tapped his phone, grinning, as if urging him to share his number.

“Friend, what’s your number?”

Song Yeongin stared at Jang Haesung in the distance, then slowly approached Na Hangyeol. When he got close enough for their breaths to be heard, Na Hangyeol fell silent for a moment. Song Yeongin took the phone Na Hangyeol offered and typed in his number.

When Na Hangyeol pressed the call button, Song Yeongin’s phone rang in his pocket.

“Confirmed it’s not a fake number.”

Song Yeongin couldn’t detect any greed or ulterior motives in Na Hangyeol’s eyes. His youthful face was full of mischief, like any other guy his age. Instinctively, Song Yeongin judged him to be harmless.

“Can I contact you?”

Song Yeongin was dumbfounded. Was this guy overly friendly? Na Hangyeol was like a big dog wagging its tail.

Jang Haesung was still watching them sharply from the doorway.

Na Hangyeol seemed remarkably free of any agenda. His playful, innocent eyes held no trace of greed or ulterior motives as he smiled brightly at Song Yeongin. And Song Yeongin found that harmless smile not unpleasant.

Thanks to the harrowing experiences most men wouldn’t endure, Song Yeongin had grown accustomed to putting up walls and approaching others with caution. They always seemed to expect something from him. When he didn’t comply, they’d trample him with faces of betrayal, wounding him violently. Song Yeongin didn’t want to be hurt by others anymore. Nothing was more terrifying than seeing eyes full of expectation turn into greedy demons.

Seeing such innocent sincerity in someone’s gaze was rare for him. And Song Yeongin realized that a same-sex friend approaching him without ulterior motives… was something he had longed for and needed for a very long time.

🌫️

Finding James Han’s flaws and weaknesses wasn’t difficult. The problem was his American citizenship. With his inherent privilege, he could deftly evade legal consequences and was immune to moral criticism or social condemnation.

In Korea, he was a figure shrouded in secrecy, making it impossible for media or rumors to harm him. Cha Woojin knew well that such things couldn’t threaten James Han. That’s why James Han was someone Cha Woojin preferred to avoid.

“What’s the influence of a Korean conglomerate to me? That’s something that matters to small-time domestic businessmen like you. It doesn’t apply to me.”

James Han’s arrogant voice, belittling Cha Woojin, the heir to Korea’s top conglomerate Woosung, as a mere domestic businessman, echoed in his ears. Cha Woojin’s strong, sharp jawline clenched tightly.

A stronger blow was needed.

🌫️

Accompanied by Park Sungjae, Cha Woojin strode down the long corridor of a neo-Gothic building. The sound of his confident footsteps filled the marble corridor lined with grand spires and arched high walls.

Cha Woojin entered the director’s office of Aschut, surrounded by elegant dark wood paneling.

As the door opened, Yoon Jioh greeted Cha Woojin with a deep bow, as if he had been waiting.

“What brings you here?”

The hypocrisy was blatant. Cha Woojin cast a piercing glance and snapped in a flat tone.

“No hint of remorse after screwing someone over.”

Yoon Jioh smiled enigmatically, welcoming his impeccable master as always.

He was like an emperor come to punish a traitor. But this traitor had a critical strategy to survive.

Yoon Jioh guided Cha Woojin to a reception seat. As he sat, his perfectly tailored classic suit wrinkled slightly. His long, sharp eyes curved coldly.

“It’s troublesome if you stab me in the back like this.”

Yoon Jioh chuckled softly at Cha Woojin’s warning.

“You’re exaggerating. Haven’t you heard? I kept my mouth shut to the end.”

Cha Woojin sneered with an arrogant glance.

“It was James Han who approached me first. I couldn’t resist his persistent persuasion and gave him your name. Just in case external pressure came.”

His sharp nose curled in a cold smirk.

“Why didn’t you report it?”

“As always, I assumed you’d know. I’m disappointed. To think you’d neglect Aschut and Jimil like this…”

Cha Woojin couldn’t deny Yoon Jioh’s words. Overwhelmed by the overseas branches his father had thrust upon him and constantly tested, Cha Woojin was on the verge of breaking from exhaustion.

On days he returned to Korea, he was swamped with critical business reports and piles of final approval documents, leaving no time to focus on Aschut.

More urgently, Cha Woojin had been preoccupied with rushing back to embrace Song Yeongin. As if it were compensation for the relentless exhaustion and overwork, he was consumed with savoring him.

It wouldn’t be a lie to say it wasn’t sweet. Just recalling Song Yeongin’s flushed nose and pitiful, teary eyes made his lower body heavy. He endured the brutal overwork with the strength of returning to hold that beautiful thing.

Recently, he relied only on minor reports for Jimil and Aschut matters. Naturally, he had no time to uncover the shady dealings Yoon Jioh had conducted with James Han behind his back. There was a gap in the information system.

“Seems you’ve been busy with your love affairs lately.”

Cha Woojin’s cold, ruthless face turned sharply toward Yoon Jioh. An arrogant, authoritative tilt of his jaw.

“Don’t climb too high. Do I look like a fool to you?”

At his chilling gaze, Yoon Jioh protested as if wronged.

“You were the one who dragged Jiyeon into this.”

“…….”

“Song Yeongin was my find. Uncle Kang Hajong clearly entrusted that boy to me. Bringing in a third party… In my gallery, that’s an insult. Not only did you delay the decision, but you showcased and entrusted him to Han Jiyeon, the director of the rival Hwarin Gallery?! Isn’t that utterly dismissive of me?”

“Since when was Aschut yours? Mother and Uncle haven’t said a word yet… You’re awfully eager. Greed will only bring trouble.”

“…….”

“Pushing me into a corner like this… You must know that without a solid card, it’s a self-destructive move.”

“…….”

“You wouldn’t think you could stab me in the back and sit here comfortably as director. Really, Yoon Jioh… You’ve got some guts.”

“…….”

Those guts deserved some credit. Even as cousins, Yoon Jioh must have known Cha Woojin, the legitimate heir of Hajung and Woosung, wouldn’t tolerate it.

In other words, the cunning Yoon Jioh wouldn’t have provoked his master so recklessly without a plan.

Cha Woojin smiled leisurely. His masculine, upright lips curved confidently.

“Speak. Let’s hear what scheme you’ve devised.”

Yoon Jioh adjusted his chrome glasses. After a long pause, he spoke.

“I plan to deal with James Han using Lichten Evan’s . It’s a piece he’s coveted for years… And I have evidence of illicit dealings proving he acquired Hans Memling’s masterpiece through shady means. Since it’s a stolen global masterpiece, it could significantly damage James Han’s influence in American social and media circles.”

Cha Woojin knew Yoon Jioh wouldn’t move without a shield.

“True to your merchant blood. The stakes are about to skyrocket.”

Yoon Jioh smiled bitterly.

This was the capability of Yoon Jioh, pushed out of Hajung Group’s succession due to a lackluster father, relegated to the sidelines—his greatest means of survival.

“So, will you make a deal with me now?”

Yoon Jioh had raised the stakes to the maximum by involving James Han. It would break records. Regardless, Cha Woojin would have to pay more than James Han’s offer.

But no matter how high the stakes, Song Yeongin’s share would remain negligible. Yoon Jioh, who designed this game, would see his slice grow exponentially.

Yoon Jioh, the merchant, was profiting off Song Yeongin’s painting. Still, Cha Woojin had no better alternative at the moment.

The wealth Yoon Jioh had amassed through such means was safely stashed in a Swiss vault, untouchable and laundered clean.

“Are you confident you can persuade James Han?”

“I’ll do my utmost to regain your trust. I’ll stake everything…”

Cha Woojin’s icy eyes softened.

“Fine. Bring the documents. I’ll sign.”

Yoon Jioh swiftly called for a staff member. He spoke to Cha Woojin in a subtly polite tone.

“I thought you’d sell the painting to James Han.”

Cha Woojin’s cold sneer dissipated into the air.

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s more profitable for you, isn’t it? Woosung Electronics, built by your hands. I never expected a single painting from that boy would cause a loss to Woosung Electronics.”

“…….”

“I had actually given up. So when you decided to deal with me again, I knew I had to make it right, no matter what. I won’t disappoint you again.”

Cha Woojin did not listen attentively to Yoon Jioh’s words. Cha Woojin’s attitude was extremely arrogant and indifferent. Yoon Jioh tried to coax him gently to elicit a sense of reassurance from Cha Woojin.

“I’m sure Mr. Song Yeongin will be pleased with your decision. He’s gained the best patron, after all.”

When Yoon Jioh mentioned Song Yeongin, Cha Woojin finally showed a reaction. Wiping the cold sneer from his face, Cha Woojin displayed an expression that was strikingly unlike him.

“No, he might not like it.”

“?”

“He’ll definitely dislike it if I say I’m buying the painting. He won’t be keen on me being his patron either. I don’t even know if he wants to keep painting…”

“Why do you think that?”

Yoon Jioh asked with a puzzled expression.

“People as greedy as us could never understand.”

“…….”

“Just like we could never understand Uncle Kang Hajong, who turned his back on the family and gave up everything to become a priest.”

A staff member, neatly dressed in a black uniform, brought the documents, and Cha Woojin signed the paper placed before him.

“Manager Park.”

When Cha Woojin called for Park Sungjae, Park Sungjae approached Yoon Jioh and placed a blank check on the marble table.

Cha Woojin spoke in a calm, low voice.

“Fill in the amount.”

Yoon Jioh wrote a number with countless zeros, but Cha Woojin’s cold expression didn’t even flicker.

The astronomical amount Yoon Jioh wrote likely left Song Yeongin with a share as insignificant as dust. However, such trivial calculations were of no importance to Cha Woojin.

Even if he hadn’t brought Han Jiyeon into the picture, Yoon Jioh was the kind of person who would have inflated the stakes as much as possible. He was a cunning schemer who would never miss a golden opportunity to manipulate tycoons on the scales of his balance, orchestrating a game of high stakes.

From the moment he saw Song Yeongin’s stunning beauty, which stirred base desires, Yoon Jioh must have sensed it instinctively. From the moment he involved that pure, captivating beauty in this game…

Yoon Jioh had deliberately placed Song Yeongin in Jimil. To catch Cha Woojin’s eye. To catch Matteo’s eye. And to catch James Han’s eye…

Yoon Jioh had been waiting for the chance to escalate the game. It was all part of his calculations, so the outcome would have been the same regardless.

“How will you handle Mr. Song Yeongin’s consent?”

“I’ll arrange a separate day. He’s a guy who pathologically hates taking time off.”

Yoon Jioh couldn’t help but laugh at Cha Woojin’s lighthearted joke.

The rumors about Song Yeongin and Cha Woojin, which had already spread at Matteo’s banquet, were quietly circulating among the gossip-loving elite. The rumor that Cha Woojin was utterly enamored with his beautiful male lover had become a sensational scandal, captivating the ears and mouths of the upper crust.

The ultimate tycoon, the aristocrat among aristocrats, the king of high society—that man, the famously aloof Cha Woojin, was said to be buried between a man’s thighs, obsessed with debauchery.

His status as an object of awe stemmed from his untouchable, arrogant sexual charisma. Everyone wanted to sleep with him, but no one could easily claim him. That impregnable sexual fantasy had elevated him to the ultimate position of desire and envy among the elite, as if he were an idol or celebrity they admired… And until now, Cha Woojin had cleverly leveraged that advantage, reaping the benefits it brought.

Yet, the idea that such a man was obsessed with debauchery with a stunningly beautiful man was the most provocative, base rumor, stirring the lowest desires.

The gossip grew flesh and swelled. For Cha Woojin, who maintained his reputation with impeccable precision, it must have been a blemish. Yet, he wasn’t even trying to contain the scandal.

‘Has Song Yeongin truly captivated him? Has Cha Woojin fallen into reckless love games… or even a dangerous fling?’

If not, none of this could be explained. Even if he had avoided a misstep, Cha Woojin had chosen to forgo selling Song Yeongin’s painting to James Han, despite the significant losses it would cause Woosung Electronics.

The cold-blooded Cha Woojin that Yoon Jioh knew would never have done such a thing. The Cha Woojin he knew was not the kind of fool who would trade a mere painting and business profits, causing losses to Woosung Electronics—the company he had built and grown with his own hands over ten years—for such a foolish act.

He might be Kang Hajong’s hidden kin. He bore an uncanny resemblance to the youthful Kang Hajong’s refined and noble appearance. That was precisely why Yoon Jioh couldn’t ignore him. If that suspicion were true, what exactly was Cha Woojin planning? Yoon Jioh clicked his tongue inwardly.

‘What a scandal…’

Yoon Jioh smiled meaningfully and whispered.

“You’ve changed a lot. You’re not the little brother I knew.”

Cha Woojin didn’t bother maintaining a poker face with Yoon Jioh. Yoon Jioh was his cousin, raised alongside him. In their distant childhood, there were days when Cha Woojin affectionately followed Yoon Jioh, calling him hyung. At the very least, they shared innocent memories from their youth.

“People always change… Like my cousin, who one day started treating me like a superior, as if I were a stranger.”

Yoon Jioh smiled faintly, his smile tinged with bitterness. However, those with ambition in their hearts never collapse under such fleeting emptiness.

To gain more from Cha Woojin, Yoon Jioh had chosen a path completely opposite to that of his younger brother, the photographer Yoon Gunoh. Unlike that incompetent, idle fool who resembled their useless father, Yoon Jioh was fundamentally different.

Cha Woojin was wary of those with excessive ambition.

If Yoon Jioh had remained content, like Yoon Gunoh, and stayed a good cousin, he wouldn’t have been able to shamelessly pick Cha Woojin’s pocket like this. In the upcoming division of the Hajung Group, Yoon Jioh would not yield an inch. Neither would Cha Woojin.

Yoon Jioh had simply chosen the best method for survival, and Cha Woojin had come to accept that he could no longer treat him as a close cousin. Regretting something that could not be undone was the most foolish act. Both of them knew this well.

“There’s one thing I need you to promise.”

Cha Woojin’s pitch-black eyes gleamed with a calm yet ferocious intensity.

“What is it?”

“No matter what happens, you must not carelessly divulge any suspicions about Song Yeongin. Not to Mother, not to the priest, and not to Song Yeongin himself. Whoever it is… Keep your mouth shut and guard your tongue. Don’t even think about spilling anything—stop right here!”

Yoon Jioh nearly succumbed to that ferocious, oppressive aura.

He knew exactly what Cha Woojin was talking about. He was referring to the possibility that Song Yeongin was Kang Hajong’s kin.

However, Yoon Jioh hid his enigmatic smile and responded with a blank face, feigning ignorance with calculated deceit. For those who could never be kings, they all had to disguise themselves and wear masks.

‘As expected, my little brother is thorough.’

Cha Woojin warned with the ferocity of a tyrant purging a traitor, consumed by obsession.

“Listen well. If that happens, I’ll really wring your neck.”