when the phone rings novel
"-Do you think I'm just some loser jerking off at home? I'm going to kill you, kill you. I really will kill you."
"Cough, cough!"
The instant she heard the voice, the hairs on the back of Hee-joo's neck stood up.
And that voice-it was disturbingly familiar...
"-You bastard! I won't let you off! I'll never let you off! I'll stab your cheek with a knife...! Drench you in filth...! Then chop you into pieces...! Scatter your ashes...! Make you disappear...!"
What... What is this?
That's my distorted voice recording...!
Her face turned ghostly pale, drained of all color.
Though a few phrases belonged to the blackmailer, the majority were her own
They had cleverly spliced together things Hee-joo had said, crafting an entirely new persona for the blackmailer.
Her jaw dropped wide open, completely unable to close.
"-If you don't want your car to be totaled, then fork over 200 million...! Aren't I being kind?"
""
"-Shall we begin? Tomorrow, I'll kill you without mercy."
What... What is going on here...?
Who could have made such an edit...?
With a grain of rice still stuck to her lips, Hee-joo staggered to her feet and stood in front of the TV.
Her mind was completely blank, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
At that moment, her hypersensitivity kicked in, and she turned her head sharply.
Bang, bang, bang—!
Someone roughly pushed open the inner door.
A disheveled man stormed in, bringing with him the smell of smoke.
Usually immaculately groomed, his hair was now messy and hanging over his brows. His white shirt was stained pitch black with soot, and his jacket and tie were nowhere to be seen.
As he approached, the scent of something scorched hit her full force.
"...!"
An ominous feeling of foreboding enveloped her.
Could it be...?
She forced herself to ignore the doubts rising within her.
It shouldn't be possible, right...?
Their eyes locked, neither able to look away.
"I want to see your thighs."
"...!"
Hee-joo's mind went completely blank, and she blinked rapidly.
Did I... Did I mishear that?
"Should I take it off, or will you?"
His gaze dropped openly to her lower body.
So, she hadn't misheard.
Wait, thighs? Why would he want to see my thighs now...?
Seeing the blood drain from her face, he casually added,
"Someone set fire to my office."
His deep, lazy eyes bore down on her.
"It's that guy."
"...!"
He nodded slightly, motioning toward the news report on the screen.
...What? No, no, that's not it...!
Yes, the voice in the recording was mine, and I'm the one who made the threats, but I didn't set the fire! Absolutely not!
"I just provoked him a little, and he couldn't help but lash out—"
Baek Sa-oen brushed his disheveled hair out of his face and murmured coldly,
"You really need to break that bad habit of yours."
His eyes gleamed with an eerie light as he fixed his gaze on the news broadcast, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.
It was a rare sight to see Baek Sa-oen smile, but this wasn't a smile.
It was more like a distorted mask.
...So it was you!
At that moment, Hee-joo was struck with a lightning-like realization.
"You're the one who edited that recording...!"
Hee-joo realized everything: this was her husband's strategy to suppress the blackmailer.
He wore the sly expression of someone deliberately provoking a fight.
Why... why did things have to get so complicated?
Using immense willpower, Hee-joo suppressed the urge to faint.
But at that moment, her distorted voice was already being broadcast nationwide.
"So, I need to confirm something. Right now, the only lead is you."
His gaze burned with icy intensity.
Whoosh—
Baek Sa-oen walked straight into the bathroom, letting the water wash away the smoke and ash clinging to him.
"I won't let you off. Don't regret this!"
"—You're dead meat!"
In that instant, he remembered the red flames—not at the Blue House, but at his private office.
He didn't know how the blackmailer had found it, but he had clearly become a target.
Baek Sa-oen recalled the image of the man in the black jacket and baseball cap.
The guy had deliberately lifted the brim of his hat to look directly at the security camera in the corner of the ceiling, knowing full well it was there.
Though his face was obscured by a mask, the mischievous glint in his young eyes was unmistakable.
And that same guy had lightly swung his phone during their call.
The mild burn on Baek Sa-oen's shoulder blade throbbed angrily.
Scrubbing his face with neurotic intensity, he tried to rid himself of the lingering acrid scent.
"It's been a long time since someone got the better of me like this."
A faint smirk crept onto his lips.
"Since they sent the first blow, I should return the favor."
As soon as his hyperbaric oxygen treatment ended, Baek Sa-oen rushed to his third office.
Only an hour had passed since the blackmailer maliciously edited and leaked the recordings.
Coincidentally, manipulating events and media was Baek Sa-oen's area of expertise.
Instead of going back to the hospital, he returned home, driven by one reason alone.
Wrapping a large towel around his waist, he clenched his teeth.
"I didn't want to drag her into this."
His expression darkened as his gaze turned icy.
"Hee-joo, come here."
Hee-joo, who had been clearing the table, flinched violently at his words.
Despite everything, she still couldn't believe Baek Sa-oen was serious about this.
"Stretch out your leg."
Water dripped from his damp hair, seeping into his shirt.
From the very beginning, his purpose had been clear.
He still treated their marriage as part of his work.
This stark indifference made Hee-joo feel even more humiliated.
As she slowly backed away, Baek Sa-oen's eyebrows arched slightly.
"If they can find my office, this house is no longer safe."
"..."
"So cooperate. I need to figure out what that guy knows, how much he knows, and how he knows it."
With a forceful tone, he stepped closer and abruptly scooped her up.
"Ah...!"
She struggled desperately, but he shot her a cold glance and said,
"Good girls obey."
"What...!"
Hee-joo's neck burned with embarrassment.
Baek Sa-oen carried her like a child, cradling her effortlessly, and strode through the hallway into his bedroom.
Though they had lived under the same roof for three years, she had never set foot there.
Respecting each other's spaces was as important as silence to this cold couple.
He tossed Hee-joo onto the bed like an object.
"I need to see for myself."
Baek Sa-oen's figure loomed over her.
As Hee-joo wrinkled her nose at the faint scent of antiseptic, she felt his hands grip her waistband.
The elastic seemed ready to snap at any moment.
Panicked, she grabbed his hand tightly, stopping him in his tracks.
"Wait, wait...!"
A flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.
The man clicked his tongue impatiently and reached for the car key on the bedside table.
Then, without hesitation, he unfolded the small knife attached to the keychain and slashed through Hee-joo's pants.
"What the...!"
The fabric tore roughly at her upper right thigh, leaving her pale skin exposed before she could even process what had happened.
"It's lucky he didn't strip me completely, but this... this is worse...!"
He pressed down on her soft thigh and pushed it to the side.
Seeing the utterly detached look on his face, Hee-joo felt like nothing more than a beaker in a laboratory.
"Ah...!"
Despite herself, a dull ache spread somewhere deep inside, her heart sinking rapidly.
The undeniable physical sensation made her curl her toes tightly.
At that exact moment, his thumb scraped firmly against a specific spot.
"There really is a mole."
His breath warmed her bare skin.
"... There it is."
He furrowed his usually smooth brow, muttering to himself.
Baek Sa-oen's gaze lingered on her thigh, unwavering.
With meticulous precision, he compared the moles to the photo, checking whether they were authentic or digitally fabricated.
Three vivid red moles.
The unique moles—exactly like the ones in the photo.
For a moment, an unmistakable flicker of displeasure crossed Baek Sa-oen's otherwise emotionless, pale face.
"I thought it was unlikely to be fake."
"...."
"Hee-joo, how should I interpret this?"
Hee-joo bit down on the twitching muscles of her cheek.
Go ahead, feel utterly confused...! Let the headache make you miserable! If you don't deal with your wife, your political career won't even begin!
"When exactly was this photo taken...? No, never mind. Forget it," he muttered, running a hand over his face.
"Hand me your phone."
"...!"
His unexpected words froze Hee-joo in place.
Her gaze remained unmoving as Baek Sa-oen leaned closer, his sharp senses not missing a beat.
Of course, the faint hospital scent still lingered on him.
"I need to check if your phone's been hacked, then I'll return it to you."
"...."
"Give it to me."
His calm demeanor left Hee-joo feeling slightly disappointed.
Unlike what she had feared, he didn't question the photos at all.
His focus wasn't on the obscene nature of the pictures but on tracing how the files had leaked.
'...Even after seeing the garter belt, his expression is still so dull.'
She begrudgingly admitted, making him flustered or confused was an incredibly difficult feat.
Whether it was facing an embarrassing vulnerability with unwavering confidence or maintaining his usual cold detachment...
"Ah...!"
Before she could finish her thought, his hand suddenly clamped down on her soft thigh with brutal force.
The pressure was enough to make her wince in pain.
In an instant, he stood and turned away, his movements abrupt and sharp.
Baek Sa-oen gripped the back of his head, his breathing becoming irregular.
Hee-joo sat there, stunned, staring at the red handprint on her thigh.
It burned—hot and numb at the same time.