The following morning...
The agonizing ache from yesterday's incident in the conference room remained embedded in every pore.
It felt as though a thousand jagged needles were piercing beneath my skin. But far worse than the lingering pain... was my own body breaking down in protest.
Cough! Cough!
I hacked, my frail frame convulsing with every heavy breath.
I lay trembling beneath the thick duvet, a searing heat radiating through me as if my blood had caught fire.
My head was impossibly heavy, anchored to the mattress as if weighed down by a massive stone. Cold sweat drenched my pajamas, making them cling to my flesh, even as my teeth chattered from bone-deep chills.
38.5 degrees...
I stared at the thermometer through a blurred gaze.
A dangerously high fever. Undoubtedly, the culmination of relentless labor, sleep deprivation, stress, and the brutality of yesterday's ordeal.
Click! The dressing room door swung open. Ren stepped out, dressed in a sharp navy suit.
He looked as flawless as ever, offering a sickening contrast to my corpse-like state.
Fastening his cufflinks, he strode directly toward the bed. He peered down at me with a gaze laced with irritation.
"Are you still not up?"
He demanded, snatching the duvet and pulling it off my shivering body.
"Look at the time, Yurin. We have a board meeting this morning. Hurry up and get ready—"
He cut himself off the moment his eyes registered my true condition.
A face flushed a deep, feverish crimson, lips cracked and peeling, and a frail body trembling like a drowning bird.
Ren reached out, pressing the back of his hand against my forehead.
The freezing chill of his ring clashed against my scalding skin.
"You're burning up..."
He snapped his hand back, acting as if the heat might scorch him—or as if he were repulsed by the prospect of catching whatever infection I harbored.
"I... I can't... Cough,"
I forced the raspy words from my raw throat.
"Please... let me take today off... Ren."
Ren exhaled a long, exasperated sigh.
He stared down at me with the expression of a man whose machinery had broken down at a critical moment.
"What a burden," he muttered.
He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the hand that had touched me, his movements dripping with open disgust.
"Just sleep. You don't need to go in today."
"If I drag you into the office looking this pathetic, the staff will start gossiping that I've worked my slave to death."
"Th... Thank you... And the medicine..."
I looked up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he might at least offer me a glass of water.
"The pills are in the cabinet. Find them yourself,"
He answered, walking over to grab his briefcase, not sparing me a single backward glance.
"I may be back late tonight, or perhaps not at all. Take care of yourself so you don't die in here."
"I have no desire to return to a corpse in my bedroom. It's bad luck."
Without another word, he strode out of the room, completely abandoning me.
His heavy footsteps faded down the hall, followed by the sound of the front door sealing shut.
Beep—Beep—Click.
The security system engaged, locking me inside this gilded cage.
I tried to sit up to reach the medicine, but whatever meager strength I possessed had entirely evaporated.
My limbs turned to jelly, sending me collapsing onto the floor.
"Sob..."
Physical pain was something I could endure. But the agony in my heart was unbearable. He didn't care about me at all.
Was there not a single shred of mercy left within him?
I blindly crawled toward the nightstand, my movements incredibly clumsy and frail.
I managed to snatch a half-empty water bottle, downing the last drops to soothe my parched throat.
Then, I curled into a trembling ball on the freezing bed, waiting for the agony to pass. Or, if I was lucky, hoping I would fall asleep and never wake up, free from this hell.
...
I had no concept of how much time had elapsed. I had lost consciousness, overcome by exhaustion and the raging fever.
I jolted awake when a sharp chime pierced my blurred senses.
Ding-dong... Ding-dong...
I knit my brows in confusion, attempting to piece my fractured awareness together.
Ren would never ring the doorbell...
He possessed the passcode and the fingerprint scanner. The housekeeping staff had already finished their morning rounds.
So who could it be?
Gritting my teeth, I managed to push myself upright. I leaned against the wall for support, stumbling down the hallway.
The world spun dizzily, like a catastrophic carnival ride, but I forced my leaden feet to carry me to the intercom monitor.
On the screen stood a tall, handsome man in casual attire.
He wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and light cream trousers. He stood at the entrance, a soft smile painting his lips, holding a large paper bag in his hands.
'Mr. Zen.' My heart gave a sickening lurch.
What was he doing here? How did he even know this address?
"Mr. Yurin?"
His velvety voice drifted through the intercom speaker.
"I know you are inside..."
I stood paralyzed, too terrified to utter a sound.
"I dropped by the company headquarters this morning to have Mr. Ren sign some documents.
However, another secretary informed me that you were allegedly faking an illness and took sudden leave."
Zen paused before his tone shifted into something noticeably more intense.
"But I distinctly remember the ghostly pallor of your face the other day, coupled with your exhaustion."
"I am certain you are not faking anything. You are genuinely sick, aren't you?"
"Please, open the door. I brought you medicine and some food. I will just hand these over and leave immediately."
"I promise you, on my honor, that this will remain a secret between us."
That phrase—allegedly faking an illness—felt like a jagged blade driven directly into the rotting wound in my chest.
Ren had told the staff I was lazy. He viewed my suffering as nothing more than a pathetic excuse.
A tidal wave of bitter resentment and burning anger flooded my veins.
It overpowered my ingrained terror of disobeying Ren's rules.
If he didn't care whether I lived or died... why should I care about his commands?
Acting on a surge of defiance, I pressed the unlock button.
Beep—Beep—Beep... Clack.
The heavy door swung open.
It revealed Zen standing on the threshold. His pleased smile evaporated the second his golden eyes registered my state.
His flawless features contorted into shock, quickly darkening into genuine fury.
"God... Yurin."
He dropped the paper bag onto the floor.
He lunged forward, catching my collapsing body and pulling me securely into his arms.
"You're burning up! How could he possibly leave you here all alone?! How could he be this cruel to you?"
The warmth of his embrace seeped into my freezing, shattered heart.
His crisp scent, mingling with the faint trace of cologne, managed to soothe my nausea.
I tilted my head up, gazing at him through a feverish blur.
In that fraction of a second, I didn't see a stranger, nor did I see Ren's corporate partner. I saw an angel descending into hell to save a dying creature.
"Help... Please help me..." I whispered weakly.