CHAPTER 5:PROFF
936 Words
I didn’t answer Minho.
Taewook’s hand was still on my back as we walked out of Cafe Mille. Possessive. Deliberate. He wanted people to see.
The driver opened the door for us. Taewook slid in first, then pulled me in after him. Close. Too close.
He didn’t let go.
“Your phone,” he said, nodding at my bag.
I pulled it out. The text from Minho was still on the screen.
_Soyeon? Are you alive? Why are you with my uncle??_
3 minutes. That’s how fast gossip moves in Seoul.
Taewook took the phone from me. His thumb hovered over the reply button.
“Don’t,” I said quickly. “If you reply, he’ll know I’m with you. He’ll come running.”
“Good,” Taewook said. “Let him run.”
He typed anyway. 5 words.
_Kang Taewook’s wife. Don’t text her._
He hit send. Handed the phone back.
My heart stopped. Then started again, faster.
He just claimed me. Publicly. To Minho.
Taewook leaned back against the leather seat like he hadn’t just started a war. “You wanted leverage. You have it.”
My phone buzzed immediately. Then again. And again.
Minho: _What the hell Soyeon??_
Minho: _You’re lying. He’s 32. You’re 19._
Minho: _Answer me. Now._
I locked the screen.
“Stop shaking,” Taewook said.
“I’m not scared,” I lied.
“You’re not shaking from fear,” he said. “You’re shaking because you like this.”
I looked up at him. His eyes were on me now. No ice. Just heat. Sharp, calculating heat.
He was right.
In my past life, I begged Minho for attention and got a bullet. This time, I had his uncle calling me his wife to his face.
The car stopped in front of a luxury boutique in Cheongdam.
“Out,” Taewook said. “You need clothes. Real ones. And we’re not done yet.”
I followed him in. The staff bowed instantly.
“CEO Kang. Mrs. Kang,” the manager said, eyes wide.
Mrs. Kang. Again.
Taewook didn’t correct her. He sat on the couch, crossed one leg over the other, and pulled out his phone.
“Dress her,” he told the manager. “Anything that fits a Kang. No student clothes. No hoodies.”
For the next hour, I was paraded through racks of silk, wool, designer tags I couldn’t pronounce. Dresses. Suits. Heels.
Taewook didn’t look up once. Until I stepped out in a black bodycon dress. Simple. Elegant. Dangerous.
His eyes finally lifted from his phone.
He stared for 2 seconds. Then went back to typing.
“Take it,” he said. “And the red one.”
The manager packed 12 bags. Twelve.
“Put it on his card,” Taewook said, standing. “And my wife’s name. From now on, she uses it.”
We left. More bags than I could carry. Joon took them to the car.
Taewook checked his watch. “3PM. Dinner at 7. With my father.”
My steps froze.
“Your father? The chairman?”
“Yes,” he said. “He heard I married in one night. He thinks I’m insane. Or desperate. He wants to meet you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me—”
“Because you don’t get prep time,” he cut me off. “If you’re really from the future, then you already know what he’ll ask. If you’re not, then you’ll fail. Either way, I learn the truth tonight.”
We drove to a private restaurant. Top floor. Glass walls. The whole city under us.
Chairman Kang was already there. 60s. Gray hair. Eyes just as cold as Taewook’s, but older. Sharper.
He looked at me like I was a bug.
“So,” he said. “This is the 19-year-old girl you married overnight. The one who claims she’s from the future.”
Taewook sat. Pulled out my chair for me.
“Yes,” he said simply.
The chairman’s eyes narrowed. “Then tell me something only someone from 5 years ahead would know. Something profitable. Now.”
My mouth went dry.
I couldn’t tell him about his death. That would be too much. Too soon.
So I gave him money instead.
“Buy crypto,” I said. “Bitcoin. All of it. In 2021, it hits 60,000 USD. Then sell before 2022. You’ll triple your investment.”
The chairman laughed. Loud. Mocking.
“Crypto? You think I’m a child? Get out.”
Taewook didn’t move.
“Father,” he said. “You asked for proof. She gave it. You can believe it or not. But I do.”
The chairman stood. “You’re a fool, Taewook. And you,” he pointed at me. “You’re a gold-digger. He’ll throw you out in a week.”
He left.
Silence.
Taewook poured me water. Then himself whiskey.
“You did well,” he said.
“That was well?” I whispered. “He hates me.”
“No,” Taewook said. “He’s afraid of you. Because if you’re right, it means I can see the future through you. And that makes you more valuable than his own son.”
He clinked his glass against mine.
“Welcome to the Kang family, Mrs. Kang. They’re all going to try to destroy you now.”
My phone buzzed one last time.
Minho: _Fine. You want to play? I’ll play too. See you soon, Soyeon._
I set the phone down.
I wasn’t scared anymore.
Because the man sitting next to me wasn’t Minho.
And this time, I was the one holding the gun.
- Writer
