He’d been doubting his initial belief that Jihae had been involved in Rotelle’s espionage scheme. After tonight, he couldn’t believe that she’d been a part of it. Despite her impenetrable ice-queen image, Jihae was frank, honest and fair, and was an incredible partner to work with. She had such innate integrity that she gave praise and credit where it was due, and wasn’t afraid to admit when she was wrong.
Could such a person have participated in such subterfuge? Colin’s gut instinct told him no. And he would never hold her accountable for the depravities of her family. Rotelle was still the prime suspect for the espionage attack against Hansol, but he wouldn’t wrap Jihae into it anymore. Maybe he could even trust her enough to ask her outright if she knew anything about the espionage. No, that would be crazy. He couldn’t do that without revealing his connection to the Song family. While she didn’t allow her personal life to interfere with her work, working with her ex-fiancé’s cousin would probably be too much, even for her. And, more importantly, Jihae wouldn’t betray her family.
Despite the guilt nagging insistently at him, he had to keep his identity a secret for the sake of the production. He didn’t want to be a constant reminder of her broken engagement and her injured pride. Jihae was as invested as he was in the project. He couldn’t ruin things for her by putting her in such an impossible position.
Colin swiped his hands down his face. Preparations for the production were going into overdrive soon, and he would have to spend a lot of time with Jihae. Hopefully, she didn’t hate his guts after tonight, and they could go back to being good colleagues.
The thought of being “good colleagues” with the most alluring woman he had the pleasure of meeting plunged him into a black mood. A platonic relationship with Jihae was as appealing as climbing a rocky mountain with bare feet. The lust blazing inside him was likely to burn him to cinders, but he had no other choice.
He had to protect Jihae from himself, find justice for his family and make a damn good movie.
Eight
Jihae was a strong-willed woman. She didn’t regret throwing herself at him, but she was most definitely not going to give in again. She’d meant every word she said. He would need to beg to have her after that spectacular rejection. She’d spent a lifetime playing the role of Princess Jihae. While it took monumental willpower not to touch him, she was able to exude cool professionalism on the outside.
With the director and screenwriter selected, they were moving on to casting. The director, Cora Huang, already had the lead actors in mind and reached out to them. She would be working with a casting director for the remaining roles. Jihae and Colin had brief phone calls and exchanged emails, but hadn’t seen each other since they interviewed the directors together. Both of them acted as though they were business partners and nothing more.
But wasn’t that the truth? They weren’t anything more than that. Sure, they’d shared two passionate kisses, and Colin looked at her like he wanted to tear off her clothes whenever he thought she wasn’t watching him—she smiled smugly at the thought—but that didn’t mean there was anything between them.
Jihae gnawed at her lip. She wasn’t a woman who opened up easily, and physical acts weren’t meaningless to her. Those kisses had meant something to her and it irked her that Colin was able to ignore them so casually.
When she heard a knock at the door, she shook her head to clear it.
“Come in.”
June stuck in her head. “Hey, boss. I’m taking the team out to dinner—on you, of course—to show them how much you care.”
“That’s great, and I do care. Too bad it wouldn’t fit my image to join you guys. Besides, if I come along, the staff will be so tense, they’ll probably get indigestion,” Jihae said, only half joking.
“Hey. You could come if you want,” her friend said with gentle sympathy. She understood Jihae’s isolation and loneliness.
“No, I’ve got work to do. You guys go and have fun,” she replied with a forced a smile.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Now go away. I really have to work.”
“Fine. Do you want me to lock up for you?”
“No, I’ll lock up on my way out.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow, friend.”
When the door clicked shut, Jihae had the sudden urge to run after everyone. What happened to cool professionalism, Princess? She was in an odd mood and blamed it on Colin Song. Jihae wouldn’t be feeling so lonely if she’d never known how warm and cherished she felt in his arms. She tsked impatiently. Stop being unreasonable. Pushing Colin from her thoughts, she turned her attention to her inbox.
Confidential: Top Priority jumped out at her from the top of her unread emails. It was from her father, which startled her. He usually left emails and such to his executive assistant. With trepidation, Jihae clicked open the email, and what she found inside befuddled her.
Introduce Yami Corporation’s CFO to one of your contacts at NAM.
That was it. The terseness was expected but the content made no sense to her. She’d never heard of Yami Corporation. If she had to guess, they were an apparel company. She might’ve seen a bus-bench ad featuring a model wearing their jeans.
She wasn’t directly involved with Rotelle Corporation’s businesses, but she had some knowledge of which companies they did business with. Yami wasn’t one of them. Besides, fashion was one of the few industries that Rotelle didn’t dabble in. Why would Father want her to introduce Yami Corporation’s CFO to a talent agency?
None of it made sense. She checked the time and calculated that her father might be awake. He was something of an insomniac.
“Father,” she said when he picked up after a few rings as expected.
“What is it?”
“Your email. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s not your job to understand but to do as I instructed you,” he said dismissively.
She forged on despite his tone. “Since when did Rotelle do business with Yami Corporation? Isn’t that an apparel company? We don’t do apparel.”
“You don’t know everything. Far from it.”
“I don’t want to know everything. I just need to know why Yami’s CFO wants an introduction to NAM.”
“How the hell should I know? Just do as you’re told and stop wasting my time with incessant questions.” His terse tone warned her that she didn’t have much time.
“My connection to the talent agency is important for my job. For Rotelle Entertainment. I can’t jeopardize it by pushing a stranger on them for reasons unknown.”
There was a brief pause as he considered her words, and Jihae’s grip on her phone tightened.