CHAPTER 23

Since starting college, Ji-Won had slowly settled into the rhythm of his new life. The loneliness and homesickness that had weighed heavily on him initially—being far from Uncle Baek and Byeong-Ho—began to ease. Soo-Jin was a major reason for this. Her vibrant presence was constant, her laughter infectious, pulling him out of his solitude and keeping him occupied, whether with last-minute study sessions or spontaneous late-night coffee runs. She made it feel a little more like home.

But despite the passing months, Ji-Won couldn't shake off the memory of his encounter with Youn-Jae. Three months had passed since that meeting, and he hadn't seen Youn-Jae since. Youn-Jae kept his distance, never reappearing in person. But now and then, Ji-Won would catch sight of Secretary Min on campus or receive unexpected deliveries—gifts, notes—things he knew came from Youn-Jae. He felt it like a shadow on the edge of his life: he was being watched, cared for from afar, though it only added to his confusion. 

Youn-Jae hadn't returned to Germany in those three months, aside from brief business trips. His absence had started to draw attention. Even the Chairman noticed, particularly after Youn-Jae had stormed into the mansion, asking permission to transfer to Korea permanently. The Chairman had refused, dismissing his request and pressing him to focus on their headquarters instead.

"President, the Chairman called again," Secretary Min announced quietly from the doorway, his tone cautious, already braced for the answer. "He said you must return to Germany. Immediately."

Youn-Jae sat at his desk, head slightly bowed. Exhaustion etched deep lines beneath his eyes, and his fingers pressed tightly against his temple. His gaze lifted, steady but weary. "Tell him the same thing I told him last time."

Secretary Min hesitated, his posture betraying his discomfort. He knew he shouldn't push, yet the Chairman's demands left him little choice. "President, your prolonged stay here is… drawing suspicion. You're risking the company by not returning."

Youn-Jae's eyes narrowed, a defiant spark igniting through his fatigue. "Haven't I proven my worth? Even here, I've handled every responsibility. Do they doubt my commitment?" 

"Not at all, sir. But the Chairman… He's asking questions. He may already suspect something's amiss. What if he finds out about Ji-Won?" Secretary Min's voice dropped, cautious as he mentioned Ji-Won. "You haven't explained your reason for staying."

The mention of Ji-Won struck like a blow, causing Youn-Jae's hands to tighten around the armrest, his knuckles turning white. He closed his eyes briefly, his mind drifting back to Ji-Won's last expression—the coldness in his eyes, the way he had turned away without looking back. The memory haunted him, echoing through every sleepless night. He knew he was the reason for Ji-Won's pain, that he was to blame for the fracture between them. But he couldn't turn away. He wouldn't. 

Taking a breath, he looked back at Secretary Min, his voice low but resolute. "I asked you for something. Do you have it?" 

"Yes, President," Secretary Min responded, his words cautious but obedient. "It'll be finished in less than two months. All the arrangements have been made." 

"Good." Youn-Jae's gaze sharpened, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "We won't be able to keep this secret for long, but it doesn't matter."

Secretary Min swallowed, concern darkening his eyes. "Sir… Are you certain this is the right decision? You're risking everything—your relationship with the Chairman, your position. And if your father finds out—"

Youn-Jae's patience broke. He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, his expression one of unyielding resolve. "I know the risks. I've already made my choice."

He crossed the room, his steps slow but firm, his figure silhouetted against the office lights. Pausing by the door, he glanced back, his gaze distant but determined. "Let's go see my father."

***

"What!" The thunderous slam of books onto the Chairman's desk reverberated throughout the study, shaking the walls and echoing through the silence. His face contorted with fury as he leaned forward, his gaze fierce and disbelieving. "What do you mean you're planning to give up the company in Germany and hand over control to your brother?"

Youn-Jae stood stiffly, his jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure under his father's blazing anger. His voice, normally confident, quivered faintly but held firm. "Yes, Father. That's my decision." The words tasted like steel in his mouth, resolute yet laced with dread.

The Chairman's expression twisted in shock. He half-rose from his chair, his voice rising to a near-shout. "What happened to you?" He glared at his son, his eyes seething with an incomprehensible rage. "Have you lost your mind? Why are you behaving so recklessly?"

Youn-Jae took a steadying breath, his heart pounding beneath his calm exterior. He fought to keep his voice steady, though his chest felt tight under the weight of his father's fury. "Father, please, just hear me out," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he forced himself to meet the Chairman's intense gaze. "I want to transfer the company in Germany to Hyung. In return, I'd like full control of the business here."

The Chairman let out a derisive laugh, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive shake of his head. His fingers drummed a furious rhythm on the desk as he stared at his son, disbelief and anger flaring in his eyes. To him, Youn-Jae's request was absurd—an act of betrayal from the son he had meticulously groomed.

"No," he said, his voice low but dripping with disdain. "You know as well as I do that the company in Germany is our cornerstone. And your brother?" His lips curled in a bitter smirk. "You know I can't rely on him. His reckless decisions are a constant headache. You're the only one I can trust to run things. The only one."

Youn-Jae swallowed hard, each word digging deep into his heart, the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him. The room seemed to close in around him, stifling him. His father's words were daggers, unrelenting. Yet, despite the turmoil within him, Ji-Won's face lingered in his mind, and the thought of winning him back was the only thing that gave him strength. But how could he explain that to his father? That he was willing to risk it all—not for the company, but for the person who had filled the hollow in his heart?

A tense silence fell over the room, the air thick with unspoken words. The Chairman's eyes remained fixed on his son, searching for any trace of the loyal heir he once knew. After a long pause, he exhaled sharply and gestured dismissively.

"If you're so eager to have control here," he sneered, his tone cold and calculating, "then take both. Manage the company in Germany and here. I don't care how you do it. But stop coming to me with these ridiculous demands."

Youn-Jae's eyes widened, his heart sinking. This was worse than resistance—this was punishment. The prospect of managing both companies was a suffocating burden, one that would consume every second of his life, leaving no space to pursue what mattered most to him. Panic flickered in his chest, but he forced himself to speak, desperation coloring his tone.

"But, Father—" His voice faltered, a hint of desperation slipping through the calm.

"Enough!" The Chairman's voice cut through the room, final and unyielding, like the snap of a whip. "Get out!"

Youn-Jae's shoulders slumped, defeat settling over him. He bowed deeply, a gesture of silent respect despite the sting of frustration. His jaw clenched, his heart pounding as he straightened and turned toward the door. With each step, he felt the weight of his father's gaze burning into his back, the door clicking shut behind him as he exited.

In the stillness that followed, the Chairman exhaled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the closed door. His fingers resumed their agitated drumming on the desk. "Mr. Kim," he called, his voice sharp and commanding.

The door creaked open, and Mr. Kim entered, bowing respectfully. "Chairman."

The Chairman leaned back in his chair, his gaze icy, calculating. "I want you to find out what Youn-Jae has been doing lately. Where he's been, who he's been meeting… everything." His voice was low, laden with suspicion, a sneer twisting his lips.

Mr. Kim's face remained stoic, though he sensed the underlying threat in his employer's words. "Understood, Chairman," he replied, his voice measured as he bowed again.

The Chairman's eyes darkened, a glint of disdain flickering in his gaze. "And make sure," he added, his tone dripping with contempt, "that he isn't doing anything foolish. Report back immediately."

Mr. Kim nodded firmly, the weight of the task heavy in the air. "Yes, Chairman. I'll ensure everything is monitored closely."

***

"Secretary Min, can you drop me off at that convenience store?" Youn-Jae's voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of restlessness, his gaze fixated on the glowing sign outside, as if it held answers.

Secretary Min glanced at him in the rearview mirror, a hint of confusion in his furrowed brow. "Here? Why, President?" he asked, slowing the car as his gaze followed Youn-Jae's line of sight. "Do you need something? I can go inside for you. You can wait here in the car." His voice trailed off when he recognized the familiar figure behind the counter.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed Youn-Jae's face as he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening with determination. "It's okay," he said, his words firm, leaving no room for discussion. "Besides, I need you to go back and get some documents from the office."

The car came to a halt, and Youn-Jae stepped out without another word. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, a sound swallowed by the stillness of the night. As he approached the store, the bell above the door chimed softly, its gentle ring clashing with the tension coiled in his chest.

Behind the counter, Ji-Won barely looked up, muttering, "Welcome, sir," with mechanical politeness—until he registered the familiar figure standing before him. His face hardened, a shield of coldness dropping over his features, wiping away any trace of warmth.

"Ji-Won," Youn-Jae's voice softened, almost pleading, as he stepped closer to the counter. His eyes held a desperate warmth, searching for the smallest sign of familiarity.

But Ji-Won's gaze was unyielding, his hands busy arranging items, his voice detached. "Sir, if you have no business here, please leave. I'm working." His tone was sharp, deliberately cutting, as if to erase any lingering connection between them.

Youn-Jae's shoulders sagged slightly, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "I know you're angry," he murmured, his voice a mix of regret and helplessness. "And I know you don't want to see me anymore."

Ji-Won's eyes flicked up, his stare cold and unrelenting. "Glad you know that much," he replied bitterly. "So, what's the point of showing up now?" His words sliced through the silence, his hands moving with forced indifference, as though Youn-Jae were nothing more than a passing stranger.

Youn-Jae's mouth opened, but words failed him. He stood there, feeling the weight of the wall Ji-Won had built between them. "I just… I wanted to tell you something," he finally managed, his voice faltering, a tremor betraying his calm facade.

Ji-Won's gaze hardened further, his eyes showing nothing but resentment. "I'm not interested. So, please leave." His words were clipped, his tone dismissive, cutting off any chance of conversation.

Just then, the door chimed again as a customer walked in, momentarily breaking the standoff. Youn-Jae glanced around, startled by the intrusion, his pulse racing with unspent words. The air between them felt thick and suffocating, each moment heavy with unresolved tension.

With a defeated sigh, Youn-Jae stepped back toward the door. "I'll wait outside," he murmured, his voice barely audible. The chill of the night greeted him as he exited, and he found a small plastic chair meant for customers, sitting down with his eyes locked on the store's door, waiting.

"Oppa, who's that very handsome guy outside?" Hye-Rin's voice cut through the silence, her eyes flicking toward the front window with a hint of excitement, though her curiosity was genuine.

Ji-Won, arranging some items on the counter, didn't look up. His expression tightened for a moment before he masked it with indifference. "I don't know," he replied flatly, his tone dismissive.

Hye-Rin's brows knitted in confusion. "What? But I saw him talking to you." She tilted her head, clearly skeptical of Ji-Won's evasive answer.

Ji-Won sighed, his hand pausing mid-task. Avoiding her gaze, he replied with a cold edge, "Just don't mind him." Then, quickly changing the subject, he softened his tone. "By the way, are you okay now?"

Her face lit up with a small smile. "Oh! I'm fine now, Oppa. Thanks for asking." She hesitated, leaning in with a playful grin. "But, can you please not mention this to Byeong-Ho?"

Ji-Won raised an eyebrow, lips twitching in slight amusement. "Hahaha, why?" he asked, momentarily distracted.

Hye-Rin blushed, laughing awkwardly. "Because it's nothing for him to worry about." She shrugged, glancing outside once more at Youn-Jae, who sat unmoving, braving the cold. Her smile faded. "But, Oppa… it's freezing out there. Is he seriously going to stay?"

Ji-Won's face hardened again, his voice steely as he replied, "Just leave him there."

Though he tried to ignore it, he couldn't resist glancing at Youn-Jae through the glass. His heart clenched at the sight, but he forced himself to look away, unwilling to let old feelings resurface. The night passed slowly, and Youn-Jae stayed outside, his patience a silent testament to his remorse.

When Ji-Won's shift finally ended, he pushed open the door, purposefully passing by Youn-Jae without a single glance.

"Ji-Won, wait," Youn-Jae called, his voice urgent as he reached out, his hand closing around Ji-Won's wrist.

Ji-Won froze, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly yanked his hand away, his eyes flashing with anger. "What?" he snapped, his tone sharp and unyielding.

"Please… let's talk," Youn-Jae pleaded, his desperation evident. "I need to say something."

Ji-Won met his gaze, his eyes filled with raw bitterness. "If I listen to you, will you finally leave me alone?" His voice was edged with anger and hurt.

Youn-Jae's expression softened, his voice breaking. "Just… please. Let me make things right."

Ji-Won let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Make things right?" His voice trembled with restrained pain. "Would you still care about making things right if I wasn't the pathetic kid who waited for you all those years? Or is this just because I was the fool you left behind?"

"Ji-Won…" Youn-Jae's voice was barely a whisper, his chest aching at Ji-Won's words.

"The Hyung I trusted," Ji-Won's voice wavered, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, "the one who made promises. The person standing in front of me now?" His voice broke, his gaze filled with sadness. "You're nothing like him. He's gone."

Youn-Jae stood there, speechless, his throat tightening with guilt and regret. He reached out again, but Ji-Won took a step back, his expression unreadable as he fought to keep his composure.

The story doesn't end here...