A Madman in Love

Despite the crisp early spring air, the heat that pierced Suin’s thin skin felt oppressive, like the stifling humidity of midsummer.

That heat radiated entirely from Seo Jaehee.

I feel like I’m suffocating.

When she thought about it, Seo Jaehee himself was like summer incarnate.

Relentlessly hot, in the simplest and purest way.

Always.

Constantly.

She had pushed him away so many times because touching him felt like she’d burn alive.

It had been her survival strategy, after all.

Ignoring him is the best option.

Maintaining her poker face, Suin focused on tying his tie.

Her mind was set, but her unbalanced posture caused the knot to come out crooked. Trying to avoid unnecessary contact, she had kept her hands awkwardly distanced.

Do it right.

Chiding herself, she reached for the tie to adjust the skewed knot.

“Lee Suin.”

Jaehee’s voice broke the silence.

She glanced up from the tie to see his thick lashes shadowing his downcast eyes.

“When are you going to answer my question from yesterday?”

“Question?”

“I asked you what you thought of the adult Seo Jaehee.”

His face suddenly leaned closer.

Not wanting to reveal her unease, Suin instinctively tilted her neck back.

“Was that a question?”

“It was.”

Seemingly dissatisfied with her wary demeanor, Jaehee raised an eyebrow and leaned in further, his expression teasing.

“It was a question. So, you should answer.”

“I’m not obligated to answer.”

Suin shifted back to maintain the distance between them.

“Even if I want to hear it?”

“Whether you want to or not doesn’t matter.”

Jaehee, testing her limits, kept leaning closer, and Suin’s back arched further with each move.

As her spine bent, her balance shifted downward, but their parallel closeness remained unbroken.

“What if it’s an order?”

“That would be an overstep.”

Just as Suin sharply leaned back to counter him, the precarious heel of her shoe wobbled.

“Ah!”

Her spine tilted back helplessly, on the verge of a graceless fall.

Before she could topple, Jaehee’s strong arm wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her against him.

It was a pose straight out of a romance drama. Suin ended up in his arms, her body pressed close as Jaehee’s mischievous gaze swept over her.

“If it weren’t for me, that could’ve been dangerous.”

It’s because of you that it’s dangerous.

“You’re welcome, right?”

His playful tone and sly smile ignited her irritation, but Suin clenched her teeth and responded with a sweet smile.

“Very much so. Thank you.”

“In that case, how about dropping the formalities when it’s just the two of us?”

“I’m not that thankful.”

Jaehee’s suggestion was met with a curt refusal as Suin attempted to straighten her posture. But his chest felt as solid as steel, and the strength of his arms left her immobile.

Of course, there were ways to escape.

But Suin was a peace-loving person.

“Would you kindly release me, sir?”

“Nope.”

“You really should.”

“I like it this way.”

Seo Jaehee, however, had a natural talent for shattering her serene approach.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Why?”

Looking up at his annoyingly smug grin, Suin finally resorted to force.

Gripping his tie, she yanked it hard, tightening it around his unguarded neck.

“Ugh! Hey!”

Jaehee let out a choked yelp, releasing her waist immediately. Suin used the tie like a climbing rope to stabilize herself and straighten her back.

“Please understand that I had no desire to resort to physical defense,” Suin said, flashing a polite smile as she smoothly extracted herself from his grip.

“Good work, sir.”

“…”

Jaehee coughed lightly, rubbing his neck while throwing her a squinting glare.

Though his expression seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, Suin calmly opened a drawer from the storage cabinet.

“I’ll select a tie pin for you.”

“Sure,” he replied with a resigned sigh, even adopting a formal tone in defeat.

“Whatever you think is best, Miss Chief Secretary.”

With her back turned, Suin’s lips quirked into a subtle smirk.

The secret smile lingered as she carefully sifted through the tie pins.

Bzzz—

“Your phone is ringing,” Jaehee noted as the vibration echoed from outside the dressing room.

“I’ll finish up and bring this to you,” Suin replied, closing her smile as she handed him the tie pin before heading back to the office.@@novelbin@@

As she moved, she felt Jaehee’s gaze trailing her.

Pretending not to notice, she picked up the phone from the sofa where she’d left it.

―Woo Ilhwa, Chairwoman

“Yes, Chairwoman.”

[Has Jaehee arrived at the office yet?]

The voice on the other end of the line was urgent as soon as the call connected.

Suin glanced at the wall clock, which read 8:43 AM, and then at Jaehee, who was fastening his tie pin in front of the full-length mirror in the dressing room.

“Yes, he’s here,” she answered.

Standing under the overhead lighting, Jaehee seemed to glow as though he were emitting light himself—a man who could absorb even the brightness around him.

[He arrived on time?]

“Yes, he did.”

Her eyes remained fixed on him as if drawn by some unseen force.

[He knows about the executive meeting in the main auditorium, right?]

“Yes, he’s aware.”

Suin hadn’t even realized she was mechanically carrying on the conversation with Woo Ilhwa. It was hard to focus on anything else when Jaehee’s tall, statuesque frame and smooth movements made him look like an expensive sculpture meant to mesmerize its beholder.

From his naturally refined posture to the graceful movements of his hands.

[Last night, he seemed to be only half-listening, but it looks like he didn’t take it lightly after all.]

“That’s likely the case.”

[What’s he doing now?]

Jaehee’s shoulder shifted slightly, catching Suin’s attention.

Quickly breaking away from her stolen glances, she turned her back to him.

She pretended not to notice his approach from the dressing room while she casually grabbed her jacket from where it was draped over the back of the sofa.

“He’s been checking the office.”

When Jaehee stood behind her, Suin turned and spoke as though she’d only just realized his presence.

“Would you like me to hand the phone to him, Chairwoman?”

‘Don’t,’ his headshake said immediately, even as Woo Ilhwa’s response followed:

[No.]

The refusal came almost reflexively.

[Just tell him to come up. It’d be better if we make an appearance together.]

“Should I tell him to come up now?”

[Not yet.]

Woo Ilhwa cut her off decisively, as though contemplating something weighty. She muttered to herself briefly:

[The meeting starts at 9:30… It takes five minutes to walk to the auditorium, and if we leave ten minutes early… Tell him to come up by 9:15.]

A mother arranging to meet her son, yet managing it with military precision.

“Understood, I’ll relay the exact time.”

[No! Wait—make it 9:18! That’s better.]

Even those three minutes mattered to her.

“We’ll ensure he’s there precisely at 9:18.”

[Thank you, Chief Lee.]

Suin’s emphasis on precision seemed to ease the Chairwoman, who let out a small, satisfied laugh.

As soon as the call ended, Jaehee asked, “She wants me to come to the Chairwoman’s office?”

“Yes. She said to come up by 9:18. She plans to attend the meeting with you.”

“9:18?”

“Yes.”

At her confirmation, Jaehee’s eyes shifted to the wall clock.

It was clear he was calculating in his head. Thirty minutes for the meeting, 9:18 means… 12 minutes together?

The crease in his brow revealed his thoughts plainly. He spoke in a tone of genuine concern.

“Can’t we just meet at the auditorium?”

Ha.

Suin swallowed her sigh. The situation felt bleak—like being caught in the crossfire of an estranged mother and son trying to act cordial in public.

***

Woo Ilhwa’s reason for bringing Jaehee along wasn’t solely to create the image of a harmonious mother and son; it also stemmed from her underlying anxiety.

“The senior executives are seasoned professionals. Show them the proper respect, and be mindful of your words and actions.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone will be evaluating you. Remember that every step you take and every word you speak reflects your character. As an executive, you must always carry yourself with dignity, not just before the senior staff but at all times.”

“Yes.”

Thus, on their way to the auditorium, her lecture was relentless.

Despite her usual philosophy of “brevity is best,” this principle seemed to dissolve when it came to her son.

The root cause, undoubtedly, was Seo Jaehee himself.

“Especially Vice Chairman Kim Seoncheol. He’s your biggest opponent for succession, so tread carefully and prove your capabilities.”

“Yes.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“Should I stop?”

“Yes.”

His responses, a monotonous stream of “yes,” skimmed her words without any substance.

“Seo Jaehee.”

“Yes.”

Even as Woo Ilhwa glared up at him with triangular eyes, Jaehee continued forward, his expression blank, his focus unwavering.

What’s with him?

Following close behind, Suin felt a wave of anxiety.

The composed, commanding man she’d seen in the Executive Office now acted like a rebellious teenager trying to rile up his mother.

It was as if he were a completely different person.

How could he behave this way in front of the Chairwoman?

Is he doing this without thinking, or does he have some hidden motive?

Just as she tilted her head in confusion, he glanced over his shoulder at her, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

What…?

In that instant, Suin realized something.