when the phone rings novel
"Ah...!!"
"I need a man who's fully committed, deep, someone who drinks Hennessy and smokes weed. Not just any snake but one as big as a king cobra."
"Ahhh!!"
He read on smoothly, ignoring Hee-joo, who leapt up to snatch the paper from him to no avail. Casually sidestepping her, he continued reading aloud with his deep, velvety voice, as if narrating a dramatic script.
"It's better if it's curved, slanted."
Baek Sa-eon gritted his teeth.
"If he has a beard, I'd wet it. Wear a mask, tighten the neck... hmm..."
He kept his cold, sharp gaze on the lyrics. Hee-joo's face was burning as she buried her head, unable to bear the embarrassment. His expression turned increasingly cold.
"Kneel on the ground, ride up—"
"......"
"You're wet now... hah..."
He sighed deeply, finally rubbing his temple with a visible vein bulging on his hand like a reprimanding professor.
"Hong Hee-joo."
He laughed, but it wasn't a laugh of joy.
"Who wrote this?"
"......!"
He crumpled the paper with a dangerously sharp glint in his eyes.
"Why do you have something like this? Don't tell me... you wrote it?"
The absurd accusation made Hee-joo flustered. Hurriedly, she whipped out her phone and opened a long-dormant one-on-one chat titled "Business Husband."
Frantically, she typed and sent a message.
[9:52 PM]
That's lyrics from a foreign singer introduced by Director Han Joon...! He mentioned a gig to interpret at a concert. I refused. That paper... it was just left in my bag.
Baek Sa-eon checked his phone's notification with a measured calmness, his sharp eyes scanning the screen for an unusually long time.
"Hong Hee-joo, I'm much more conservative than you think."
'...What?' Hee-joo could only blink in confusion.
"I don't like that director at all. What do we do about that?"
"...!"
"If you had accepted the job, you'd probably have to practice with him. Director Han Joon, meeting a subordinate twelve years younger face to face, 'guiding' them."
"......"
"Things like, how to use this term, what context it fits, how to interpret this expression—"
Baek Sa-eon twisted his neck slightly, cracking it.
"Curved, big."
"......!"
"You haven't even discussed such things with your own husband."
He licked his lips, which seemed to grow hotter, and muttered.
"Nearly slipped out of my mouth."
Feeling anxious, Hee-joo quickly typed another message with trembling hands.
[9:53 PM]
You're misinterpreting! That singer is famous for bold, spicy lyrics...
"So," Baek Sa-eon's sharp gaze locked onto her, glinting with amusement, "I watched your sign language today. What kind of expression would you use to interpret this steamy content?"
'What... what?' Hee-joo's panic grew.
Suppressing a strange impulse, he swallowed hard.
"Not happening."
He chuckled coldly, stuffing the crumpled paper into his jacket pocket.
"This paper is confiscated. This discussion is over. Done."
"......"
"Supermarket? Forget it. Go to bed."
His eyes blazed a warning as he dismissed her. Hee-joo masked her unease, her fingers quickly tapping away at her phone.
The clock ticked softly, a sound only she could hear.
[9:55 PM]
"To the supermarket... I need to buy sanitary pads."
Her face, already red from embarrassment, now felt like it was on fire. At her message, Baek Sa-eon frowned slightly.
"You're not at that time of the month yet, are you?"
"......!"
What? Hee-joo looked at him in shock.
"And at this hour, how can I let you go out alone? Whether you're really going to the supermarket or planning something else, how would I know?"
His suspicion seemed to grow stronger by the second.
"I'll go instead."
"......!"
"You stay home."
For a moment, she blinked in surprise, but this wasn't necessarily a bad turn of events. If she couldn't leave, having Baek Sa-eon go in her place might actually work. He glanced at his watch, seemingly contemplating making a call. Seizing the opportunity, Hee-joo typed another message.
[9:56 PM]
"Small, medium, large, and extra-large pads with wings. Also small and large tampons. Oh, and snacks..."
This was a subtle way of ensuring he'd be gone longer. When he saw the message, a faintly uncomfortable expression flashed across Baek Sa-eon's face. Scratching his eyebrow, he asked:
"What snacks?"
Earnestly, she typed another reply.
[9:56 PM]
"Fried chicken..."
While he read, Hee-joo subtly pulled back the curtain to observe the outside. Their small, upscale residential area didn't have tall buildings. She could barely make out the back of a man, talking on the phone as he walked away.
—I heard 406 is in the same area as me. Could they be near us?
"......!"
Her heart sank. As expected, it was wise to send Baek Sa-eon out. If she made the call under the same roof, the risk of saying something wrong under tension was too great. The slight soundproofing wouldn't help either.
—Do you have the guts to come meet me?
"What exactly do you want to happen to me?"
—Seems your brain isn't entirely fried yet.
"What?"
—The fact you can discern that proves you're not entirely useless.
The voice dripped with derision. Hee-joo took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She couldn't let herself get worked up like last time. Tonight, she had something she had to ask Baek Sa-eon.
"I'm not useless, which is why you haven't caught me yet."
—...That's why I spend all day thinking about 406.
His voice dragged slightly, sounding strangely distorted.
—I don't even know 406's age, name, or phone number. So, I can only keep answering these calls.
"......!"
His tone was steady, but his words were harsh, making her shoulders stiffen.
—The less I know, the more I want to find out. I'm curious about your IQ. Are you elegantly crazy, or filthily insane? Do you think about food when you hit someone? I'm intrigued by the mind of a person like you.
It was unclear if he was persuading or berating her. Regardless, he'd thrown out bait, and Hee-joo bit.
"How about a Q&A session, one question at a time?"
—...
After a brief silence, as if considering her proposal, Baek Sa-eon agreed.
—Fine.
"Then I'll go first."
—Go ahead.
Her throat felt dry. Pacing around the living room, she eventually moved into her room and lay on the bed. Unasked questions she had suppressed for so long now vied for her attention.
"That... your real fiancée. Do you know where she is?"
—Yes.
"......!"
Even though it was a simple response, it struck her like a hammer. He knows? Her legs went numb.
"Where... is she now?" she pressed urgently. Baek Sa-eon's response was indifferent.
—In my car.
"What?"
—Have you ever heard Hee-joo's voice? Not her breathing, but her actual voice.
"......!"
The unexpected question left her stunned. Was this a veiled insult toward the blackmailer, or genuine curiosity?
Hee-joo's expression shifted into helpless exasperation. Over their conversations, she had learned one thing: no matter what the phone call was about, it always seemed to provoke Baek Sa-eon. When the blackmailer first called, and even during the office arson incident, her normally composed husband had shown gradual changes in his attitude.
After their marriage, Baek Sa-eon started speaking more, interfering in her affairs, and even physically holding onto Hee-joo. No matter what happened on the other end of the line, the repercussions would eventually reach her. Knowing this, Hee-joo wasn't particularly interested in answering Baek Sa-eon's earlier question.
"What... If it's moaning sounds—"
—No. His tone cut her off coldly.
But Hee-joo wouldn't let it go.
"I already answered, so it's my turn now, right?"
—...
Oddly, in the silence, she could sense his displeasure.
"Where is Hong In-ya now?"
—Not here.
"What kind of answer is that? Be more sincere!" Hee-joo frowned, her voice rising with irritation.
—Is that even a question?
"Don't be so rigid...!"
—I don't understand why 406 is so interested in Hong In-ya.
"Is that a question?"
—Consider it one.
To Baek Sa-eon, "Blackmailer 406" was nothing more than a deranged ex-boyfriend from Hee-joo's past. But Hee-joo faithfully played her role.
"Because Hee-joo... always seems to care about this matter."
—Be specific.
"I mean, the matter between you and her sister."
—Then I won't answer.
"What?" Hee-joo was stunned by his shameless refusal.
—If I tell you that, I'm afraid 406 will use it against Hee-joo. So I'm not saying anything.
"...!"
—That's my answer.
Goodness... Hee-joo's jaw dropped, but she was left speechless.
—No matter what nonsense 406 pulls, I'll happily play along. So let's keep this conversation just between us.
"...."
—Instead of getting close to Hee-joo, feel free to burn my car again and again. It's mine now.
Though his words were aggressive, the cold detachment in his voice made them frightening. He was quick to steer the conversation to the point.
—What did Hee-joo say to 406?
Hearing that, she couldn't help but chuckle.
"You're actually curious about what he said to me privately?"
What on earth was this man thinking? Why would Baek Sa-eon care about such a thing? But in her role as 406, she had to maintain her cover as Hee-joo—the most unlikely suspect due to her supposed muteness.
"Honestly, he didn't say much."
—Ah, I see...
He chuckled softly, dragging out the sound. Strangely, he seemed satisfied, which left her feeling unsettled. That sensation was hard to shake. Determined to push it aside, Hee-joo fired off another question.