chapter 22
“Seoha.”
As soon as she sat back down, Hwang Joo-hee leaned toward her with a worried expression.
“Didn’t the Team Leader take your design book earlier? What was that about?”
In this design office, the only person who ever showed Seoha any real human concern was Joo-hee. Maybe it was because they joined the company at the same time and felt some sense of solidarity.
“I’m not sure. It’s probably nothing.”
“I hope so.”
Instead of her design book, Seoha took several sheets of A4 paper and began sketching. Joo-hee, who always peeked over, glanced around and whispered in awe.
“Wow… Seoha, didn’t you say you were self-taught?”
Self-taught? Hardly. She studied art and design all through elementary, middle, and high school, attended the top arts university in the country, and even studied abroad.
“I just… studied hard.”
Her conscience pricked, and she forced an awkward smile. She hoped Joo-hee would drop the subject soon.
“You have real talent. I’m just a newbie too, but—”
“Hello, Director Ryu!”
Joo-hee’s voice was cut off by someone greeting at the entrance.
Director Ryu? Ryu the spy?
Seoha instinctively lifted her head—and unfortunately, their eyes met at the worst possible timing.
Should she greet him? Or ignore him?
While she hesitated, Ryu Kyung-joon strode directly toward her and put something down on the desk.
Her design book.
“And this too.”
He placed a file folder on top. Inside, Seoha spotted the torn-out sketches and looked up sharply.
“Why are you bringing these back?”
“Stand up.”
Normally she would’ve snorted and ignored him. But with the coworkers now staring, she had no choice. She stood.
And immediately regretted it.
“What are you doing?!”
Kyung-joon began rummaging through her barely-existing personal belongings.
“I’m looking for something.”
“Then you should ask me to find it. Isn’t this extremely rude?”
He didn’t reply. His gaze was fixed on several sketch pages that had fallen out from between her books.
“Jo Seoha.”
After a long silence, he picked up the sketches, his voice cold.
“Follow me.”
And just like when he came in, he turned and walked out without hesitation.
“W-What’s going on, Seoha?”
Joo-hee grabbed her, frightened. The questions spread from every corner.
“Did the intern screw something up?”
“How long has she been here and she’s already in trouble?”
“I’ve never seen Director Ryu look like that. What did you do?!”
I don’t know! How should I know why that man acts like this?!
Seoha wanted to cover her ears.
“I don’t know either. He just called for me—I’ll talk to you after I get back.”
If anyone was baffled, it was definitely Seoha most of all.
Fine, she understood that this spy got her design book through Lee Ji-soo. But why? Why were pages torn out? And why come here personally to dig through her things?
Pressing down her facial muscles to stay composed, she followed him.
He led her to his office. The spy even had his own office—what a successful little rat.
Click.
He shut the door and sat.
“Who the hell are you?”
His eyes were sharp—yet strangely shaken. Impossible as it was, she felt like he could see straight through the shell of Jo Seoha into the hidden Yun Seoha underneath.
“I don’t know what you mean, Secretary Ryu.”
“This. What is this?”
He spread several sketches across his desk—designs she had drawn and smuggled out.
“They’re my designs. As you know.”
“Don’t lie!”
He suddenly jumped up.
“These aren’t yours. Where did you get them?”
Her eyebrow twitched—barely. Between Jo Seoha or Yun Seoha, no designer could hear something more insulting.
“You’re saying I copied it from somewhere?”
“Otherwise—!”
“Hah.”
She couldn’t help a scoffing laugh.
“You must’ve seen something similar somewhere. A human brain makes mistakes. Whatever you’re thinking of—if you compare them properly, they won’t be identical.”
Kyung-joon fell silent again. But those eyes—conflicted, searching—were fixated on her.
“You look convinced I stole someone’s design.”
Seoha slammed one hand on the sketches. His gaze hardened.
“What are you doing?”
“Bring that design here. If mine is copied, I’ll pack my things and quit.”
“And if it’s not? Should I quit?”
“Hire me as an official designer.”
A brand-new intern making a bold demand. Kyung-joon stared at her hand, then laughed quietly.
“I can’t bring that design. It belongs to another designer.”
“So you insulted me with a memory you’re not even sure of.”
“Then how about this.”
He slid three sketches out from under her hand, tapped them into a neat stack, and set them aside.
“I’ll keep these. Bring ten more designs with this same identity. If they’re really yours, it won’t be difficult.”
Seoha’s lips curved into a professional, pleasant smile.
“Alright, Secretary Ryu.”
She lifted her hand and held it out. After a hesitant moment, he shook it. His hands, surprisingly calloused and strong, felt nothing like someone who only typed or held pens.
“Give me one month. I’ll bring a full collection.”
“I’ll expect it.”
Their hands separated coolly. Seoha bowed and reached for the door handle—
“Oh, right. Jo Seoha.”
He called her back.
“Yes?”
“Yun Seoha. Do you… know who that is?”
Her face froze—just for a split second. Then it returned to normal.
“Yes. I know.”
This time, his face stiffened. She tilted her head innocently.
“Even if I’m just an intern, of course I know Designer Yun Seoha. Isn’t that obvious?”
“… I see.”
He gestured toward the door with his chin. She left.
The moment the door shut, Kyung-joon spread those three sketches neatly across the desk.
“… No. Impossible.”
Even after all this time, the memory was crystal clear. These sketches were the ones Yun Seoha dropped outside the CEO’s office.
He still remembered the shock—and the jealousy—of realizing that the flawless, adored Yun Seoha also possessed overwhelming talent.
Those sketches were locked inside the design room’s safe. The same safe Lee Ji-soo kept sneaking into Haeseon’s hospital room to learn the code for.
“Jo Seoha. What the hell are you?”
He stared at the resurrected designs in front of him and murmured.
“Intern Jo Seoha. Meeting room.”
Today was a miserable day. As soon as she walked in, Lee Ji-soo’s voice greeted her. Seoha sighed and went to the meeting room.
“I heard Director Ryu called you out.”
“Yes.”
“What did you talk about?”
Should she tell her or not? After a moment, Seoha answered.
“About design.”
“Design?”
Suspicion sharpened in Ji-soo’s eyes.
“Director Ryu talked design with an intern? Does that make sense to you?”
“You ripped pages out of an intern’s design book and smuggled them out too, didn’t you?”
Judging by her expression—bullseye. Only the best pages had been torn out, which meant Ji-soo took them.
“Intern Jo Seoha. Do you realize how arrogant you’re being?”
“You asked, so I answered. If it felt arrogant, I apologize.”
There was not a single drop of actual apology in her tone.
“J-Jo Seoha!”
Ji-soo raised her voice. Seoha glanced at her—mildly surprised.
Not because she shouted. But because the woman who always spoke confidently to underlings… suddenly stuttered.
“W-Why are you staring like that?”
“… It’s nothing.”
“Unbelievable.”
Ji-soo muttered, taking a deep breath.
“So? What exactly did Director Ryu say?”
“He said my design left an impression. Told me to bring ten more in the same line.”
Seoha watched as Ji-soo’s face twisted despite her efforts to hide it. She didn’t know she could enjoy something so petty—but dealing with someone this petty made her petty too.
“D-Director Ryu asked you for more designs? From an intern?”
Her thoughts were transparent.
Everyone could see it. Ji-soo had torn out the best designs. And if Director Ryu put those designs on his desk, how would her own designs compare?
Especially against those of a mere intern.
“So what did you say?”
“I said I would. Within a month, I’ll bring designs that satisfy him. Ten total.”
“A month.”
She was clearly planning to work Seoha to death so she wouldn’t have time to design—and if Seoha slipped even once, she’d force her out.
“Yes. Understood.”
But Ji-soo never imagined this:
There was no one on earth who knew this design team better than Seoha.
As Seoha turned to leave, she paused and added:
“Oh, right. Secretary Ryu asked me something.”
“What?”
“Whether I know Yun Seoha.”
Ji-soo’s face froze, turning colder than anything she’d shown before.
