Chapter 1: The Day of the Disappearance

An empty bridal suite. An abandoned wedding dress.

The words that left the secretary’s mouth were every groom’s nightmare.

“The bride…is gone.”

Just like that, the story of Cinderella began with her disappearance.

***

Fitted in a tuxedo, the groom was handsome but dangerous. Despite the polite mask he wore, an arrogance shone through his expression, and the sharp slope of his aristocratic nose spoke of genetic superiority. The splendid aureate jacquard mismatched with his black suit was a mere accessory to his perfection.

But none of it amounted to the power that glowed in his eyes.

His hair was slicked back neatly with pomade, revealing his forehead: it accentuated the palpable ferocity he bore as he swung his piercing gaze upon others like a reigning sword.

Were all those holding God’s blessings in both hands like that? His appeal was terrifyingly magnetic. One look, and he’d trap people’s attention without fail. He was a greedy man.

Twenty minutes before the bride went missing, another man walked into the lobby of the wedding venue. Wiping his clammy hands against his pants, the man stole a glance at the richly-dressed groom attending to the wedding guests.

“As expected of Hanshin Group. A thousand guests at a hotel that charges 500,000 won per meal!”

“Why are you so surprised, Governor Kim? They’ve simply prepared according to their abilities, hahaha!”

People who were normally difficult to see together in one place were gathered at the venue to attend the headlining wedding of the group’s heir: the chair of the Federal Reserve, the head of X News Agency, upcoming presidential candidate and current House speaker Pansu Kim, and even the honorary chairman of Yeonu Group, who was said to have been bedridden.

To one side, there was a sign politely declining congratulatory money.

It was at that moment the wire hidden underneath folds of fabric came alive.

“Parrot. Parrot.”

The man who had been spying on the groom placed a hand to his in-ear device. “I’m listening. Parrot.”

Upon reply, he was met with orders to hurry and move.

The man placed the in-ear mic close and whispered, “There’s more security than I expected.”

“It’s okay. Our target isn’t the groom anyway.”

The man replied ambiguously, “You’re right…”

Their person of interest was not the prince of Hanshin Group but the person who would marry him.

“It’s the beautiful bride.”

The man headed to the hallway where the bridal suite was located. Thankfully, there weren’t any security guards around.

When he arrived at the bridal suite, his chest swelled in excitement during the few seconds that he peeked inside.

Platinum lights brilliantly illuminating the bride. Desirable collarbones showing above brightly exposed shoulders. A pure white wedding dress. A voluminous skirt with several layers of fluttering chiffon material, the hem adorned with hundreds of three-dimensional petals made to bring about the illusion that the bride was walking on a path of flowers.

He wanted to check the bride’s face, but it was covered with a veil.

Suddenly, with a shrug of the bride’s shoulders, the veil was lifted to reveal a smooth neck. At its beauty, the man squeezed the door like he was possessed.

As if noticing the presence, the bride turned his way, surprised.

Their gazes stopped on each other.

“Hey. What is it? Is it the bride? How is she?”

The voice rang loudly from the earphones, but the man was unable to answer. He had frozen on the spot after seeing the bride.

From outside the door, an employee discovered and approached him.

“Excuse me. Who are you?”

The man hurried out as if to escape, but the persistent employee followed after him, stopping him at the end of the hallway.

“I’m sorry, but may I check your ID?”

“Ah. I’m sorry. I’ll leave quietly.”

The man tried to weasel his way out but was caught again in the middle of the hall, amidst the crowd. Someone who appeared to be the head of the security team joined them, enclosing the man.

“You don’t have an invitation, do you?”

The man was silent.

“Which press company are you with?” The head of the security team smirked at the man’s embarrassment. “We sent a notice that all interviews would be conducted separately; did your company not receive it? We even gave a lengthy explanation with our request because there might be sneaky rats like you.”

The man momentarily stiffened. The bodyguard immediately recognized him: a journalist.

The journalist hastily started to defend himself. “You know what it’s like in this line of work. If the editor tells me to do it, I’ve got to do it.”

“Does that mean you’re not afraid of a lawsuit? What kind of hidden card does your editor-in-chief have that he has you fearlessly spying at an event full of influential figures? Give me the camera.”

“I didn’t film anything. I said I’ll leave quietly, okay? Hey, what do you take me for?”

The commotion went on for what seemed to be about ten minutes. Uncomfortable gazes focused their way: among them, the groom who had been attending to the guests.

Juyang Jin. The only grandson of the chairman of Hanshin Group, which had annual sales of 250 trillion won.

The moment the journalist’s gaze intertwined with the rugged one of Juyang’s, he felt his previously thundering heartbeat cease instantaneously.

“What’s the matter?”

The groom stalked forward without hesitation. The employee straightened his posture.

“I caught him loitering outside the bridal suite pretending to be an employee. Must be from a nameless magazine.”

Juyang looked down at the journalist, expressionless. The journalist gulped, turning pale. He felt suffocated by the aura and stance of the groom. Without changing his expression, Juyang scanned the journalist from head to toe. The journalist cowered in fear.

Their eyes met straight on, and at last, Juyang enunciated with sounds that struck rhythmically like the hammering of metal.

“Camera.”

The employee handed the camera he had taken from the journalist to Juyang.

Words weren’t needed. Juyang removed the memory card and handed the camera back to the journalist.

“Let him go.”

Despite his scary appearance, Juyang’s tone was, unexpectedly, very polite. There was no outburst of rage or furrowed eyebrows.

But those eyes.

In the journalist’s mind, a piece of Juyang’s chilling true face seemed to grip him.

“Consider yourself lucky.” The employee threw the camera his way.

In disbelief, the journalist asked, “Are you really just letting me go like this?”

The reporters were the least of their concern. It seemed that he was free to go.

It was at the moment the journalist was trying to slip out when an employee came running from the direction of the bridal suite.

“Sir! There’s a problem!”

“What’s the matter?” Juyang asked gravely.

“It’s, it’s…” The employee trailed off, turning white. “…The bride is gone.”

What followed was not a calm silence.

It was a horrible wreck—an indistinguishable chaos, a fear beyond silence.

The ship had crashed and the crew aboard the wreck instinctively knew that they wouldn’t be able to do anything about the quiet that had overtaken the venue.

The reporter recalled the bride sitting alone in the bridal suite: the profile of a woman who seemed precarious but somewhat resolute. She had turned to him as he was entering, and he had frozen at the sight of her.

A subtle light from the crystal chandelier…

The white veil hanging over her face was pure, and the tear stains running down the woman’s slim jawline felt sublime.

It was a marriage that every woman in Korea envied.

And yet, the woman who should have been the happiest bride in the world was crying.

***

Splash. A car dashed through the puddles. Inspector Jang watched as the rain and wind swept over the concrete road. Like intruders, dark clouds overshadowed the day’s conviviality and covered the streets with gloom.

Perfect silence. He enjoyed the despondency radiating from the gray streets.

“How did they hold the wedding without a bride?” Inspector Jang asked, quietly working his way through a cigarette.

Besides him, his assistant Sujin hurriedly replied, “They couldn’t embarrass themselves in front of all the guests. He got a substitute and covered her face with the veil.”

“And the real bride vanished just like that?”

The real bride had disappeared and been replaced with a fake bride. Hanshin Group had contacted them yesterday morning.

Inspector Jang took in the road with stoic eyes.

***

Day 3 of the Disappearance

After disappearing from the wedding venue of this hotel, the bride was radio silent.

Inspector Jang and Sujin stood at the lobby entrance of Hanshin Hotel, said to be the best hotel in Korea.

The breakers went up, and during the brief ten minutes they had been standing, a procession of cars incessantly entered and exited the hotel entrance.

Inspector Jang let his cigarette smoke wisp away.

“One shoe from its pair…”

A single shoe that the bride had dropped off as she disappeared.

Inspector Jang raised the corner of his lip in thrill.

“What is she, Cinderella? Disappearing and leaving only one glass shoe behind.”

He crushed the cigarette under his sole. It had been a long time since he was given such a tempting case.

“So, where is the groom right now?”

“He’s been waiting at Baekundang.” Sujin flashed her wrist. “And we’re exactly twenty minutes late.”

***

The modern hanok, built of cypress trees, held a skin-colored hue.

The bars’ geometric patterns were regular and elaborate, and the European-style lanterns that hung throughout the columns exuded an open antiqueness. It was a place where innovation and sophistication coexisted.

Baekundang. Some called it a traditional Korean restaurant; some called it a high-end entertainment establishment. But without doubt, one thing was certain: Baekundang was the go-to in Korea for politics happening behind closed doors.

Upon entering the huge hanok establishment, the extent of power was graspable.

A spacious parking lot with accommodations for more than one hundred cars. Kiwa houses as grand as palaces chaotically lined up with a pond at Baekundang’s center. A landscape that captured eyes, barreling onlookers into overwhelming ecstasy. Was this what the 99-room palaces of the oligarchical families during the Joseon Dynasty were like?

Servers in modified hanboks busily served royal palace dishes, and from around the room, sounds of the gayageum, musical instruments, and gisaengs’ laughter filled the air. In the loft of the hanok’s balcony guest room, the moodmaker from a large company was mixing drinks in front of a buyer, necktie tied to his head.

As difficult as it was to believe, such businesses were overtly operating in the twenty-first century in Korea.

But Baekundang was untouchable.

And as for the person who ran it…

“Hyeran Choi. The mother of the missing bride and the current owner of Baekundang,” Sujin explained as an employee guided her to the annex. “Jeongtae Shin, the former president of Baekundang, already had a daughter at the time he remarried Hyeran Choi, who was the daughter’s tutor.”

The annex was hidden deep within Baekundang. Unlike other places, the path was thick with bushes, and the antique wooden deck stairs continued endlessly.

“Hyeran Choi was also a widow with two daughters, and I think the two of them hit it off while she frequented their place as a tutor. Must have lived there for about a year or so. Jeongtae Shin passed away after falling during a hike, so Hyeran Choi took over Baekundang and made it what it is today. As you can see, her business acumen is extraordinary.”

“In a situation where no one knows if her daughter has kicked the bucket or is waiting in line to cross the Styx, she’s still running her business? Some nerve she’s got there.”

Inspector Jang laughed mockingly. Sujin shrugged.

“It’s said that all the power players in politics and business frequent Baekundang, but seeing that a mere restaurant has managed to become in-laws with Hanshin Group of all people… You can tell how influential this woman is.”

At last, they reached the annex. As he was trying to cross the threshold, Inspector Jang’s legs suddenly rooted to the ground. Sujin’s voice flowed into his ears.

“Plus, Director Juyang Jin is infamous for being picky about women. He didn’t even have a single one of those common scandals with actresses before the rumors with Choi’s daughter.”

After finishing her briefing, Sujin followed Inspector Jang’s gaze. At the end of the spacious courtyard, there was a single kiwa house boasting a distinguished presence.

A signboard reading “Taehwajeon” was hung on the hanok.

The auburn hanok emitted a different quality from the houses seen earlier. The interior of the main hall that should have been covered by lifting doors was clearly visible due to their completely raised state.

However, it wasn’t the house on which Inspector Jang focused his attention.

A man sat, picturesque, in the formidable kiwa house. The teacup on the table was cold from the indeterminate wait. As if the passage of time had stopped in that one spot, he bore not a single sign of dishevelment.

Pitter-patter. A heavy, moist smell filled the air as the rain ran along the rafters and soaked the kiwa house.

The man sat cross-legged, back rigid and straight, facing forward. Beside his expressionless stillness, thin streaks of rain traveled upward.

“That person is Shin’s missing husband, J—”

Shh. Inspector Jang put his index finger on Sujin’s lips, stopping her words. She didn’t have to speak for him to know.

An annex only open to VIPs. A man in his thirties occupying the famed site alone, as if he was the owner. The pouring rain, the sticky moisture—all of it paralyzing the perception of time…

Locked in darkness, Juyang Jin stared out at the wet landscape of the garden, and standing outside in the rain, Inspector Jang looked in to observe Juyang.

Was that the famous “Prince of Hanshin?”

“What kind of man is he? Director Jin.”

As Inspector Jang raised the collar of his coat, Sujin admired Juyang with an entranced position, as if implying that words were not needed to know.

“He’s a man who doesn’t have a single thing to be embarrassed about. He’s got everything, like the prince in Cinderella’s fairy tale. He’s well-mannered and fair to his subordinates even when they make mistakes, and is very famous amongst female employees for being courteous. They say he’s the perfect gentleman: rich and handsome, with a good personality. It’s an insult to him to say that he’s just good looks.”

Inspector Jang caressed his chin in interest.

Genteel and neat.

He had been a homicide detective for fifteen years. When combined with his detective agency operations post-retirement, he had twenty years of experience in dealing with people.

And one thing he knew without doubt was that there was no human being who didn’t have skeletons in their closet.

***

“The atmosphere is very nice,” Inspector Jang said. “You should have been enjoying your honeymoon. I’m sorry that isn’t the case.”

They had moved to the inner house upon meeting. Juyang and Inspector Jang sat face to face in the secret chamber with a table between them. Leaves drooped their heads outside the window. Only the sound of rumbling rain pouring down filled the room.

“I guess authority has its perks. I was surprised to receive a call from the commissioner after 3 years. Is there a favor you need done quietly?” Inspector Jang continued.

Juyang remained silent.

Inspector Jang internally laughed at his unique quality. Little brat trying to be all serious.

Contrary to his inner thoughts, however, Inspector Jang bowed respectfully and held out his business card with both hands.

“It’s my company motto. Unfaithful wives, swindling friends, and even lost pups: if you give me money, I’ll find anything and everything.”

It had been a long time since he’d gone from cop to copper. Public authority was no longer reliable.

He was sure Juyang had come to ask him to find his bride. Inspector Jang took on a pompous tone.

“I have no reason to decline, but I can’t see why you’d organize a special team only to bother with my third-tier detective agency…”

“Name: Yeongbeom Jang. Appointed from district patrol officer to the violent crime department in just a year. Showing off your capacity in disappearance cases, you established a dedicated team in your thirties as a precedent for detectives who don’t follow the elite path of police academies.”

Inspector Jang looked up at Juyang from his bent position, words stolen from his mouth by someone who had been silent until now. Their eyes met with a fiery spark.

“You’ve solved eighteen major missing cases in the five years you led the missing persons team, and crime rates in your assigned area plummeted. To this day, you remain unrivaled in missing persons investigations.”

Everything Juyang recited were things about which Inspector Jang could brag. Well, well. In a tight spot, Inspector Jang slowly straightened his back.

Just as he was about to uncurl his shoulders, Juyang’s voice coldly stopped him.

“But because you are not an elite member of the police academy, you have repeatedly been placed aside for promotions.”

A pause.

“Son kidnapped five years ago in a retaliatory crime. The criminal was arrested, but the child was left brain dead. Divorced after conflicts with wife. Dishonorably discharged after being caught pimping at night clubs to earn money for hospital fees.” Scanning Inspector Jang’s hardened face, Juyang slowly struck him with slow syllables. "Since then, you’ve been running a nameless detective agency.”

Inspector Jang clenched his fist. Juyang remained nonchalant. It was degrading for Inspector Jang to realize that he couldn’t rebut.

With a dark, piercing gaze, Juyang slowly examined the way Inspector Jang shook in humiliation. His eyes were serpentine, as if expecting such a reaction—aiming for it.

A feeling of apprehension washed over Inspector Jang’s entire body. What was this guy?

“The head of the agency recommended a person he’d fired with his own hand because there is no one who can approximate your ability to find people in Korea.”

“…”

“Anyway.” A bundle of papers was thrown in front of Inspector Jang. From it, photos came scattering across the table. “I always prefer people who are indubitable. Even when it comes to reasons for humbling themselves in front of big money despite having inimitable talent.”

Inspector Jang picked up the photographs, one by one. His hands shook.

“If you don’t want to have to take off the machine attached to your child’s body, you need to work hard to earn money.”

It was a picture of a child—his child. With 30 percent of his brain damaged, his child who was as good as dead without the respirator currently attached to him.

“What…”

Keen eyes on the now pale Inspector Jang, the words that rolled out of Juyang’s snake-like tongue stung.

“Everyone's the same. To sit here means there are no secrets. Isn’t it evident that setting up too many pipes will bring about leaks?”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Juyang laughed quietly at the voice barely managing to suppress anger.

“I’ve decided that you’re the right person for this job, Inspector Jang. I hope you will live up to my expectations.”

Juyang took what had been sitting on the seat beside him and placed it on the table. The black bag sank down heavily with a thunk. Juyang opened the suitcase and turned it around to reveal a bag full of 50,000-won bills.

"Prescription from the pharmacist. Diagnosis from the doctor.”

“…”

“It’s a deposit; not much. Just think of it as reimbursement for gas.”

Wary of the money in front of him, Inspector Jang looked at Juyang. But the latter wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked as if he didn’t know how to play pranks.

Gas costs? Was this what wealth was? To toss millions of won for “expenses” without second thought?

Not much was an overstatement. Inspector Jang picked up a stack of bills with trembling hands.

Just like carrot and stick. As Sujin said, Juyang was quite gentle. If anything, he got things done smoothly. Seemed that he wasn’t just a sheltered fourth-generation chaebol who was raised in the hands of a nanny. He had a knack for appeasing people.

Inspector Jang quietly laid the money down.

“As expected, you play in a different league. The client’s situation is personal matters, so no need to ask about it anyway.”

Juyang’s eyes darkened in satisfaction.

However, the snap of the bag shutting juxtaposed Inspector Jang’s words.

“But I’ve already ruined my life once with dirty money. This is an overwhelming amount. Placing my life on the line...is it necessary?”

At Inspector Jang’s words, Juyang smiled slightly. Inspector Jang carefully examined Juyang’s face. His expression was like the deep sea, unyielding of its secrets even when illuminated with the light of a fire.

There was only one thing he could realize about his difficult customer.

This man wasn’t asking him to find his bride. No, it was something more dangerous and more insidious…

“There’s only one thing I want. You don’t even have to write it down in your notebook. It’s very easy to memorize.”

Clasped hands touching lips, the eyes watching Inspector Jang were somewhat secret and dangerous.

“Don’t let the police find my bride.”

Inspector Jang’s heart thumped nervously. Seeing him perplexed and unable to speak, Juyang reached out to the orchid by the window.

He fisted the handful of flowers that he’d barely dug out in one hand.

“So she can’t be found. Ever.”

The dried flower stalks crushed lifelessly.

***

Yeongwon focused on the sound. The sound of rain. It was obvious that it was raining outside.

The room was dark, and the air was very humid. The voice of an old woman hit her ears as she struggled to keep her dry eyelids open.

“The police went all the way to the director's office. To find the bride who ran away.”

“…”

“Your mother’s Baekundang is not exempt either.”

Mrs. Noh knitted as she sat in the rocking chair.

“I think he’s an amazing man. He’s got a talent for making even the impossible possible.”

Mrs. Noh put down what she was doing and looked at her. Yeongwon was blanking out again, food forgotten.

Mrs. Noh sighed and cleared the table.

“He is someone who can keep you locked up here for the rest of your life.“

“…”

“Please just obey.“

Yeongwon scratched madly at her joint with the tip of her thumb. The marks from numerous previous stitches had healed unevenly, spanning her wrist like the fives lines of a staff.

Please just obey. Just obey. Obey. Obey. Ob—

Mrs. Noh turned around, sensing something strange. Yeongwon was no longer on the bed.

She hurriedly moved her gaze to the window and dropped the knitting needle on the floor upon seeing the thing in Yeongwon’s hand.

A flowerpot that had been by the window was gone.

Yeongwon caressed the rough edge of the broken flower pot she was holding. She looked out the window.

It was the perfect day to die.

“Mrs. Noh. Do pity me.“

She thrusted the raised piece of glass into her wrist.

“Ahh!”

A scream ripped through the air of the room.

Bleeding, Yeongwon fell sideways like a sheaf of rice. The ceiling was in a dizzying disarray and tears slipped down her temple.

Please.

Take pity on me...