Bound by a Ruthless Contract - Chapter 104

It was as if she had long transcended the need to showcase such exclusivity. Casually wearing an unreleased Neptune piece to an event with a ‘comfortable dress code’ spoke volumes.

“We… might be standing in the wrong line, right?” someone muttered.

Unusually, no one quickly countered. This wasn’t something one could simply order from a subordinate. Each piece was meticulously handcrafted by certified artisans, making quantities and sizes incredibly limited. Rumors circulated that one needed connections extending beyond the Korean branch—even to Neptune’s chairman—to acquire remaining pieces.

And Ga-eun was wearing one.

“It’s obviously something Director Kwon Si-heon obtained for her. Everyone knows he’d go to such lengths for her,” one whispered.

“Exactly. Not just something you can get by throwing money around.”

“My husband said when Kwon was at the U.S. branch, he’d spend weekends racing in Atlanta with the Neptune chairman’s son.”

“Oh, why are you only mentioning this now? How unfair!”

“Oh, no… I’d forgotten and it just came to mind.”

A momentary silence descended.

“Director Kwon never used to attend these gatherings. But after marriage, he occasionally shows up—always accompanied by his wife.”

“And how attentive he is! Never leaving her side.”

“That’s why Ju-yeon’s tantrum got worse… Oh, she’s coming.”

As Jung Yeo-jin approached with Park Ju-yeon and Lee Yu-mi, they instantly transformed, plastering bright smiles as if nothing had happened.

“My, how stylish everyone’s dressed. It’s almost embarrassing to be in the fashion industry,” Jung Yeo-jin remarked.

“Oh, goodness. Where else could we find someone as stylish as Director Jung?”

Their artificial laughter lingered briefly before Jung Yeo-jin’s gaze settled directly on Ga-eun.

“Apparently, one’s origins can never truly be hidden. Who would come to a place like this and move their body so directly to work?”

The camera journalists only raised their cameras during moments of cleaning or childcare. Ga-eun was the only one genuinely performing volunteer work. Whether cameras were present or not, she swept the floors meticulously, wiped the windows clean, and embraced the children running towards her, meeting their eyes and engaging in tender conversations.

“When children rush without reservation, don’t behave without dignity. You must teach them correctly. Why are you still holding them?” Jung Yeo-jin’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“Ah, haha…” Ga-eun’s soft laugh seemed to dance between discomfort and resilience.

“Look at these dirty clothes. I told you to come in comfortable attire, and you’ve certainly worn something… comfortable. Unbothered by the potential mess.”

The silence was thick with judgment. Only Lee Yu-mi and Park Ju-yeon dared to echo Yeo-jin’s critique.

“Of course. Among the high-end arrivals to Korea, is there anything Yeo-jin unni hasn’t laid her eyes on? If she hasn’t seen it, it can’t possibly be a designer.”

“Our group has a certain standard. How long can she continue like this? She’ll drag down our collective image.”

Unusually, the group members began dispersing quietly. Jung Yeo-jin and Park Ju-yeon, consumed by their anger towards Ga-eun, remained oblivious to the undercurrents developing around them. Lee Yu-mi’s mind was already drifting towards the golf session that would follow their orphanage volunteer work.

“By the way,” Yu-mi continued, her tone casual yet calculated, “the director mentioned needing to send one child to Seoul but feeling hesitant about sending them alone. He seemed to hope one of us might escort the child.”

Yeo-jin responded with practiced indifference, “Why not handle it directly? They always do this when we’re around.”

“I understand they want to enhance their image, but honestly, it’s troublesome. Transporting a child with unknown background feels… uncertain.”

Then, a calculated suggestion emerged. “Why don’t we entrust this to Ga-eun?”

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Her?”

“Yes. She’s never even played golf, right? If she goes to the field, she’ll just stand there like a mannequin, causing unnecessary discomfort.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Park Ju-yeon murmured, her gaze landing on Ga-eun’s slender, pale wrist as she tenderly lifted a child reaching out to her.

“We’ll need to create a suitable pretext to get her to Seoul.”