38.
I’ll give it everything I have.
“So, what you’re saying is… be careful of Vice President Cha Yoonseok, is that it?”
When Seongheon asked, Yeonwoo nodded vigorously.
“Yes. The people he keeps company with are beyond reason; they don’t listen to logic. And they’re quite skilled at intimidation.”
“Ah.”
“They actually make a living through illicit means, so it’s difficult to predict their next move. They have criminal records, heavy tattoos…”
“I see.”
As Seongheon chimed in, his tone light and conversational, Yeonwoo stared at him blankly. She was dying of worry that Cha Yoonseok might harm Seongheon through some underhanded method, yet his reaction seemed oddly nonchalant.
Then again, those who haven’t experienced it wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t know just how terrifying Cha Yoonseok truly is.
Deciding it was best to drop the subject, Yeonwoo lowered her gaze. Watching her crestfallen face, which had lost its vigor, Seongheon smiled faintly. The way her expressions shifted from moment to moment was quite endearing.
“Criminal records, tattoos—they are frightening. Especially when you’re dealing with people for whom common sense holds no sway.”
As he spoke, seemingly affirming her fears, Yeonwoo lifted her head quickly. She nodded, even more vigorously than before.
“Yes, exactly. The people around Cha Yoonseok are the type who will do anything for money.”
“You must have been terrified all this time, Ji Yeonwoo.”
The conversation took a sudden, deeper turn.
At the end of Seongheon’s words, Yeonwoo closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them.
“How scared you must have been. Not being able to speak, not receiving any help.”
The faint hint of intoxication in the air felt sweet. Yeonwoo kept her lips sealed, letting his words soak into her.
The recognition that it had been difficult, that she must have been afraid, warmed her chest. Barely managing to swallow past the tightness in her throat, she said in a small voice,
“I’m okay now. Everything has passed.”
His words echoed softly in her heart, and she barely managed to answer. She felt a lingering sense that she wouldn’t be able to forget this moment for a long time.
“I want to overcome it well and live as if nothing happened. I’m trying.”
*I know. I know that.*
*That it can’t be forgotten entirely.*
*That the scars etched deep into the marrow cannot be erased completely.*
“It feels like I’m not alone anymore… so I’m finding the courage. Slowly, but little by little.”
*Even if it occasionally resurfaces and fills my breath with anxiety.*
*Even if it’s regrettable, and on some days, makes me melancholy.*
*I have no choice but to sharpen that past self, those past wounds, like a dull blade.*
*So that it cannot hurt me.*
“It’s all thanks to the people here. I’m grateful to you, Managing Director, more than anyone else.”
*I’m starting to grind away the sharp, keen memories, like a well-honed knife. I have decided to start the work of taking care of myself, albeit late.*
Yeonwoo conveyed her heart with a somewhat nervous face, as if she were reciting an essay. It didn’t feel like her deep, desperate gratitude could be contained in a few words, but she felt compelled to try regardless.
Watching Yeonwoo, who clenched her fists tightly to keep from crying, Seongheon gave a short, acknowledging nod. Her resolve, spoken with every fiber of her body, was remarkably brave.
Seongheon raised an eyebrow.
“I see. I hope you get good results.”
It was an absurdly short response compared to her long-winded speech, but it was difficult for him to continue further. Listening to others’ stories was beyond his natural capabilities; this level of empathy was as good as being born anew.
“And I will take your words to heart—to be careful with my body at all times. Thank you for the advice.”
“Yes. Please. You must be careful.”
“I will. Absolutely.”
*You should be worrying about Cha Yoonseok rather than me,* she thought, the words rising to the tip of her throat before she swallowed them back.
This sheltered rich kid, who clearly wouldn’t know how to curse even if his life depended on it, seemed worried sick that she might encounter danger on a dark street at night.
Having someone else worry about me—it’s strange and awkward, but what can I do? I suppose it’s right to protect his innocence.
*Sheltered rich kid confirmed.* Seongheon decided to let Yeonwoo’s worries be.
…The conversation trailed off.
After the exchange, Yeonwoo looked hesitant in the silence that followed. Feeling Seongheon’s gaze from above, she avoided eye contact, then took a step back, thinking she had kept him—tipsy as he was—standing there for too long.
“I’m sorry. I think I stayed too long without thinking.”
Before she could finish her sentence, Yeonwoo bowed her head.
“You must be tired, please go in and get some res…”
“We still have things left to talk about, I believe.”
*I think I like you, Ji Yeonwoo.*
“I think there is something I have yet to hear from you, Ji Yeonwoo.”
*Shall I try a one-sided love, or shall we try dating?*
Yeonwoo, who had paused while bowed, moved her eyelids up and down while staring at the floor. Then, she slowly straightened her posture.
Distracted by the business with Cha Yoonseok, she had missed a much larger development.
When Yeonwoo made a face stiff with shock, Seongheon looked at her, tilting his head obliquely.
“I know you’ve been mentally exhausted by this and that, and I know that adding my business to that must be quite a headache. That’s why I tried to wait.”
“…”
“Because it was burning me up inside.”
*Ah…* Yeonwoo’s lips parted slightly.
At Seongheon’s admission that he was burning inside, she instinctively felt her gaze drawn to his chest. It was difficult to fully believe that inside such a broad and solid frame, things were smoldering in the dark.
It had been a series of unbelievable events for days. Among them, Seongheon’s confession was the most unrealistic and incomprehensible.
As Yeonwoo stood there, speechless, Seongheon rubbed his brow. He wanted to launch an aggressive offensive, but it wasn’t easy because of the damn Cha Yoonseok trauma.
He was afraid she would think he was being reckless. Afraid she would put him on the same level as Cha Yoonseok and shudder with horror.
“I… I’m sorry, Managing Director.”
Finally, Yeonwoo opened her mouth. Her frozen mind couldn’t form any words, so she stammered.
“I’ve been so distracted lately, and there’s so much to think about, so… I don’t know how to say this.”
“…”
“Ah… um… yes, I’m sorry. Um… actually, I was very surprised, and I don’t really know why you’re doing this…”
Seongheon, who had been slowly rubbing his brow, lowered his hand.
*The reason for this.* Right, she couldn’t possibly know that even he didn’t know the reason for this sudden, fierce attraction.
“I don’t think this is a matter I can accept… um… I’m not in a position to be thinking about these things right now…”
“…”
“The dating… that you mentioned… I think that would be difficult. I’m sorry. I am truly sorry.”
Having barely squeezed out an answer like someone crying while eating mustard, Seongheon dropped his shoulders and relaxed.
Yeonwoo tried her best to rethink the words she had just spat out. Had she spoken properly in her frazzled state? Had she conveyed her meaning well?
How could she begin such a relationship with the Managing Director while working here? Even if that weren’t the case, she had no desire to date a man right now. It didn’t seem like a healthy prospect, and she needed to focus on taking care of herself first.
She could have explained it calmly and neatly. Caught in her nerves, the words hadn’t flowed coherently; she had stammered and rejected him in a mess.
Yeonwoo squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. It was useless to regret words already spoken, but a lingering sense of disappointment was inevitable.
“Alright. Very well. I respect your opinion, Ji Yeonwoo.”
He was a man of great stature, with a heart as vast as the sea. Yeonwoo let out a long breath at Seongheon’s calm response.
Such a clean and plain conclusion. Respecting the other party after a confession—it wasn’t something everyone could do, and Yeonwoo was touched by his consideration.
“I already knew dating would be difficult. And I knew full well I’d be soundly rejected.”
“Yes… I’m sorry…”
Yeonwoo rubbed her fingertips, frustrated by her own fumbling. Seongheon, who glanced down at her hands, smiled faintly.
He was the one who had acted on his own whim, yet seeing Yeonwoo fretting over apologizing made him feel sorry instead.
“There’s no need to be sorry. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”
Seongheon straightened his upper body. Then, he muttered in a low voice, as if he truly respected her heart.
“Ji Yeonwoo, just do your best to look after yourself, just like you are now. That is enough.”
*…Whenever I speak with this person, my tears feel like they are boiling, but I don’t want to find out the reason why.*
Yeonwoo slowly closed her eyes. Her pulse was racing so wildly—fierce and savage—that she felt like her head was going to explode.
Seongheon took a step closer and stood in front of her. Watching her for a moment, he opened his arms and hugged her.
Yeonwoo stood still, without resistance. There was no taint of impure desire; he simply patted her back slowly, and it was so affectionate and warm that she bit her lip hard.
It was a chest far more solid and broad than she had imagined. One she felt she could finally lean on and close her eyes.
“Take good care of yourself, overcome it well, and when you’re ready, let’s talk.”
“…”
“At that time, I’ll go to you with everything I have.”
Her world, which had been heaving so violently it made her nauseous, stopped in stillness.
She thought this must be what it’s like to live in a dream.
*
Located in Hannam-dong, Seoul, the Royal Palace Riverview Village was a high-end luxury villa complex. It was completed ten years ago by Seoryang Construction, a top-tier housing facility consisting of 13 units in a single building.
Boasting an excellent location with perfect views of the Han River and accessibility to Gangbyeonbuk-Ro, it also featured resident-only services and infrastructure comparable to five-star hotels, making it a popular residence for many famous public figures.
In the penthouse with the most spectacular view resided Chairman Nam Yoon-young of the Seoryang Group and her husband. She was Seongheon’s eldest aunt and, excluding other relatives in the family clan, the highest elder of the Nam family.
At six o’clock in the morning, the couple’s breakfast began. It was the only time Chairman Nam Yoon-young, the representative of Seoryang Group, and her husband, Vice Chairman Kim Woo-Seop, could exchange words.
Today’s breakfast menu was medicinal duck porridge that warmed the stomach, and water kimchi.
“Your brother-in-law’s company pushed a case over to the prosecution side. Haven’t you heard anything about it?”
As her husband, Kim Woo-Seop, asked, Yoon-young, who had been eating while watching the news, looked up. Her brother-in-law’s company referred to Seoryang Construction.
“I haven’t heard a thing. What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. They wiped out some tiny SME. Apparently, they were a subcontractor for construction.”
Yoon-young, who had briefly lifted her head, shifted her gaze back to the tablet screen. Why make such a fuss over that at this hour?
“There must have been a problem. Do they report every single subcontracting issue to me one by one? They aren’t children; they’ll handle it on their own, surely.”
As Yoon-young replied dismissively, Kim Woo-Seop let out a short laugh. His indifferent voice, matching their monotonous conversation, spoke volumes—they were not a particularly warm couple.
“‘Handle it on their own,’ indeed. Don’t say you didn’t know when it hits the news—find out about it.”
“Forget it. You want me to call my brother and ask about every little thing?”
“It didn’t look like your brother did it; it looked like Seongheon gave the order.”
At the mention that her nephew Seongheon, not her brother, had given the order, Yoon-young looked up again. As if finding his wife’s reaction amusing, her husband exhaled a huff of derision before scooping up more porridge.
Yoon-young let out a small cough. Then, without further word, she busied herself with her meal again.
“Keep a close eye on Seongheon. He’s different from your soft-headed brother.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s a tiger cub. How much longer do you think he’ll stay at Seoryang Construction doing that? Be careful.”
As Kim Woo-Seop, who perceived everyone in the world as a competitor or an enemy, gave his warning, Yoon-young glared at him.
“Mind your own business. I’ll handle it.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve raised him for so long and you still don’t know? He’s going to take our seat one day. I can see it clearly. Don’t regret it later—keep him under surveillance.”
Kim Woo-Seop, who had finished his porridge, rose first. Feeling slighted by his wife’s attitude of merely looking down at her tablet as if she had no interest, Kim Woo-Seop retorted with sarcasm.
“We should have died together back then. In any case, it’s annoying.”
Yoon-young hurriedly raised her eyes. Watching his wife glance around to see if any employees were nearby, Kim Woo-Seop clicked his tongue and hurried off to work.
It was the morning the search and seizure of Namsong Industrial Development began.