Divorce in Bed Chapter 30

“Daylight is here, Seong Yeohwi.”

“Mmh…?”

Why is Mister Dowon waking me up?

Yeohwi, who hadn’t fully emerged from sleep yet, was completely out of it. Combined with the fatigue he had endured uncomfortably all night, dream and reality were at a point of blurring together.

It made sense, since in reality, there was no reason at all for Dowon to come wake Yeohwi up.

‘Is it a dream… like last time?’

That sweet dream he had back then. Was he seeing that illusion again today?

And so, before his reason could even kick in, his arms instinctively reached out to welcome him first.

Yeohwi firmly hugged the waist of the Dowon standing before him and buried his face in his abdomen.

“No, I’m sleepy…”

A voice drenched in sleep spilled out of its own accord.

“I want to sleep more…”

The texture of firm muscle transmitted through the high-quality fabric. A regularly beating heartbeat. And body heat. It was warm. As if it were real.

Intoxicated by a sense of relief, Yeohwi burrowed deeper into his embrace. He wanted to be trapped in this warmth forever.

“Are you insane?”

But the voice that dropped from above his head was far too cynical to be a dream. The sensation of the cold belt buckle touching his cheek woke up his nerves.

‘Uh…?’

Yeohwi lifted his head slowly, very slowly.

His vision cleared, and he saw Dowon’s face looking down at him.

Standing there, instead of a kind smile like spring sunshine, was the real-life Dowon, mocking him as if it were absurd with one eyebrow arched diagonally.

Realization hit like a bolt of lightning. Realizing his mistake, Yeohwi couldn’t even manage a scream as he pulled away, practically pushing Dowon off. He barely supported himself by grabbing the armrest as his body almost slid off the sofa from the recoil.

“A-Ah, no. This is because I was half-asleep… I thought it was a dream…!”

“Just what kind of shitty dreams have you been having?”

“What do you mean, shitty? It’s just a pleasant dream where Mister Dowon appears!”

“Watch your mouth. If someone heard you, they’d think you were having a wet dream or something.”

“Pardon? U-Uh, what?”

“No rebuttal?”

“Ugh… No, it’s not.”

His face burned so much he couldn’t stand it. Just what had he done? Hugging Mister Dowon’s waist however he pleased.

Dowon brushed off the hem of his disheveled shirt with his hand and scanned Yeohwi with a nonchalant gaze.

“It’s a relief you didn’t drool. I almost ruined the shirt.”

Yeohwi hurriedly wiped the corner of his mouth. It was dry. It was a clear mockery.

“…I don’t drool.”

“Whatever. Since you’re up, sit down. We have to eat and head out.”

Dowon gestured with his chin toward the dining table in the center of the living room.

A breakfast fitting the prestige of this hotel was laid out there.

In the place where the sterling silver dome covers had been removed, freshly baked Zopf bread emitted a savory buttery aroma, and on crystal plates, Emmental and Gruyère cheese along with smoked salmon were neatly plated. Combined with the Zurich scenery unfolding outside the window, it was an unrealistic view, like a movie set.

“Yes…”

Yeohwi hesitantly pulled out a chair and sat down. Dowon, sitting leisurely in the opposite seat, picked up his coffee. The way he tilted the cup with elegant and restrained movements matched the antique furniture admirably. It was enough to cause the illusion that he was the owner of this hotel.

Yeohwi stared at him blankly before hurriedly tidying his clothes. Dowon was so perfect, yet here he was, sitting stupidly in rumpled pajamas with bedhead. He should have woken up early, dressed nicely, and tried his best to look good, but he had fallen short.

At that moment, Dowon placed something on the table.

Two opera house tickets.

“Do a final check on today’s route.”

Dowon’s gaze instantly shifted to that of a sharp businessman.

“The moment we leave the hotel, tails will be attached to us. It’s impossible to shake them off in the streets. That’s why we’re going into a private room.”

“A private room?”

His long fingers tapped the tickets.

“The VIP box seats I reserved for today. Once the performance starts, that place is perfectly cut off from the outside. If we draw the curtains, no one can see what’s being done inside.”

“Then… are we going to see a performance?”

“We’re pretending to.”

Yeohwi swallowed dry saliva. Somehow, it felt like a scene from a breathless spy movie.

“Fifteen minutes after the performance starts, when the lights go down and everyone is focused on the stage. We slip out through the VIP-only emergency passage connected to the back of the box seats.”

“And then we go straight to the bank?”

“Yes. There isn’t plenty of time. If the curtains are drawn for too long, that will also arouse suspicion. Then it’s only a matter of time before it reaches Do Jingyu’s ears.”

Dowon stood up, taking the tickets.

“Don’t make a mistake. The moment you stumble or hesitate, it’s over.”

“You don’t have to scare me like that. I’m truly confident.”

Yeohwi lifted his head determinedly. Then, after hesitating for a moment, he faced Dowon and issued a provocation.

“Mister Dowon should be prepared as well. Since we’ve started, we have to deceive them thoroughly.”

“You’re stating the obvious.”

“No, what I mean is, we have to do it really thoroughly. So that we really look like a newlywed couple who drew the curtains and are busy doing secret things.”

Yeohwi’s face slowly grew hot. To Dowon, it might have just been him spitting out a business strategy as if it were nothing, but from Yeohwi’s perspective, it wasn’t like that.

“I… I’m not joking. We have to maintain that level of density and tension for those guys to let their guard down. We have to make it convincing enough for them to turn their heads, thinking, ‘Those two are in heat’ or ‘They’re busy sleeping together.’ Can Mister Dowon do that?”

Yeohwi clenched both fists tightly under the table. His heart was beating irregularly.

To Dowon, this might just be thorough calculation and acting, but to him, it was the real thing. Moreover, it was a crucial opportunity that surely wouldn’t come twice.

“Mister Dowon and I have to act like a couple who is so in love they can’t live without each other. You’re saying you can really do it, right?”

He didn’t want to say these things while wearing rumpled pajamas.

He was bothered by his messy bangs.

And Dowon, after watching the provoking Yeohwi intently, kicked the leg of the dining table once, hard, with his foot clad in an indoor slipper. The tableware rattled with a jolt. The water glass placed in front of Yeohwi shook so much it almost overflowed.

“Are you threatening me?”

Dowon’s eyes sank fiercely. He slowly leaned his upper body forward.

His lightless black pupils approached close enough to swallow Yeohwi whole.

“Shall I go as far as to kiss you…?”

The low voice scraped his ears. It was threatening and sexy, like the growl of a predator eyeing its prey.

“Pardon? D-Do, Mister Dowon. Really?”

“Or, should I just massage between your legs?”

Seeing Yeohwi’s flustered reaction, Dowon furrowed his brow and turned around.

“Act like a kid if you’re a kid.”

It was clearly meant to shut down the provocation, but Dowon’s expression wasn’t all that relaxed. Perhaps the first button had been fastened wrong from the moment they came to Switzerland on the pretext of a honeymoon. As time went on, Seong Yeohwi was coming at him while walking an precarious tightrope.

Dowon spoke even more harshly on purpose to erase this abnormal situation.

“When you couldn’t even do a thing on the first night. Don’t act like an adult trying to give off the scent of a man. You’re a guy who wouldn’t even be able to handle it if you were truly eaten up.”

Dowon walked toward the dressing room. Yeohwi stared blankly at his back.

His heart went cold. But at the same time, strangely enough, it was thrilling to the point of giving him chills down his spine.

Was it because he was losing his mind that the words ‘eaten up’ sounded like a seduction rather than a warning? He couldn’t distinguish sense from reason. Yeohwi cupped his heated cheeks and stared endlessly at the door where Dowon had disappeared.

‧₊˚🍊༉‧₊˚.

Zurich Opera House (Opernhaus Zürich).

The massive Neo-Baroque architectural structure built in 1891 shone brilliantly like a jewelry box under the golden lights. High-end sedans pulled up in a line at the entrance, and the hems of the ladies’ dresses and the gentlemen’s tuxedos pouring out from them decorated the night street. The scent of expensive perfume and the sweetness of champagne wafted from everywhere.

Just then, a limousine stopped in front of the red carpet.

As the doorman politely opened the door, people’s gazes naturally shifted along with the cold night air.