CHAPTER 27

After the sudden announcement that Youn-Jae would take over the Korean branch—the company's main headquarters—Seo-Joon's fury simmered, a relentless boil beneath his composed exterior. He and Secretary Choi had booked their flight from America to Korea with a single-minded urgency, the tension between them taut as steel, unspoken but undeniable. Seo-Joon's eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed into a razor-thin line. The news had caught him off guard, each passing second spent replaying his father's words like poison dripping into an open wound.

"Youn-Jae got full custody of the Korean branch? He's nothing more than the bastard son who killed my wife." Seo-Joon's fists clenched on his lap, knuckles whitening as the announcement looped in his mind, a barb sinking deeper into his pride with every mental replay. The German branch, which Youn-Jae had managed, he could tolerate. But Korea? This was a betrayal—not just of his position but of his place in the family.

When they arrived at his office, Secretary Choi cleared his throat softly, bringing Seo-Joon from his thoughts.

"Vice Chairman." Secretary Choi inclined his head in a respectful bow, his tone tinged with caution, as if treading on cracked glass.

Seo-Joon, already seated behind his imposing desk, didn't immediately respond. His gaze was fixed somewhere distant, as if he could still hear his father's decision hanging in the air. Slowly, he looked up, eyes sharp as blades, the heavy weight of expectation pressed upon Secretary Choi. His voice was cold, a knife sheathed in velvet. "I hope you bring good news this time."

Secretary Choi hesitated, his posture rigid. "I've… tried every possible approach, sir, but he's… difficult," he finally said, his voice low and measured, though he knew the words would sting. "These days, he's acting like a rebellious high school student."

The storm in Seo-Joon's eyes darkened instantly, anger searing through the calm like a wildfire catching dry brush. His hand slammed down on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "He's such a stubborn child!" he snarled, every line on his face etched with frustration. His shoulders tensed, his fingers digging into the polished wood.

Remaining unflappable, Secretary Choi replied with soft insistence, "Vice Chairman, perhaps it's best to let him absorb everything in his own time. When the moment is right, he'll accept the truth on his terms."

A humorless laugh slipped from Seo-Joon, and he rose abruptly, pacing behind his desk. His voice was edged with barely contained impatience as he stopped, hand curling into a fist "How much longer do I have to wait for him? This is exactly why we told him the truth about his connection to me and brought him here. Let him know I don't have time for his tantrums or whatever else he's dealing with." His tone cut sharply, each word resonating with seething disdain.

Secretary Choi remained steady, his voice measured, soothing. "He's still in shock, sir. He can't take in the truth all at once."

Seo-Joon's expression shifted, the raw anger cooling into something harder, more calculating. His posture relaxed, but his eyes glinted with a hint of something dangerous, something that gleamed like ice under dim light.

"And," Secretary Choi ventured, reaching into his bag to retrieve a brown envelope, "there's something else."

Seo-Joon's eyebrow lifted, curiosity piquing as he took the envelope. "What is this?" he asked, his tone dark and intrigued.

"Photographs, sir. The man we hired to tail him thought you'd want to see… certain developments." Secretary Choi's tone was cautious, watching Seo-Joon's reaction carefully.

Seo-Joon slid out the contents and leafed through the stack of photographs. His jaw tightened, and his gaze darkened with each picture. Slowly, a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips, sharpening the edges of his face. "So... this is what he's been up to," he muttered, his voice a low hiss of disdain. "I knew he was sometimes reckless outside of business, but this… this gives us the upper hand."

Secretary Choi shifted subtly, awaiting his superior's direction. "What would you like me to do with this, Vice Chairman?"

Seo-Joon's smile widened, malice curving his lips as he leaned back in his chair, hands resting steepled under his chin. "We wait for the perfect moment," he said, savoring each word, each dark possibility. "I can't wait to see Father's face when all of this comes to light. For now, dig deeper. I want every piece of evidence. Nothing must escape our grasp."

Secretary Choi nodded, his own expression controlled but resolute. "As you wish, Vice Chairman."

Seo-Joon's gaze flicked back to the photos, his satisfaction unmistakable. "I wonder how Youn-Jae will handle it when Father sees this," he murmured, his voice low and laced with twisted amusement.

"You know the Chairman well, sir," Secretary Choi said softly. "Even though he favors your brother, he won't stand for this."

Seo-Joon's sneer deepened, his eyes glinting with a lethal resolve. "Exactly. And when Father finally realizes the mistake, he made by adopting Youn-Jae—the very child he thought could easily replace me in everything—it'll all come crashing down on him."

Leaning back, he allowed himself to envision his victory, the twisted satisfaction pooling within him. His voice dropped to a venomous whisper, the chill of it palpable. "I would savor nothing more than watching Father's empire crumble, brought down by the very son he cherished. And when the dust settles," he smirked, eyes narrowing with sinister intent, "I'll be the one left standing. Alone at the top."

He reclined further in his chair, a soft laugh slipping from his lips, cold as frost, as he savored the moment, each imagined outcome fueling the deep-seated bitterness in his heart.

***

At Jeju Airport, Youn-Jae stood close to Ji-Won, hands intertwined tightly, his grip firm as if letting go meant losing something irreplaceable. Around them, the hum of the airport and the bustle of passengers faded into the background. Secretary Min was busily tending to last-minute preparations for their flight, but Youn-Jae's focus remained solely on Ji-Won, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"Take care, Hyung," Ji-Won said softly, his eyes flicking to their clasped hands, warmth dancing in his smile. "You're going to be late if you keep holding on like this."

Youn-Jae's hands stayed, his fingers curling even more securely around Ji-Won's, a small ache stirring in his chest. The goodbye felt rushed, too sudden, and he wasn't ready to leave Ji-Won's side just yet. His responsibilities beckoned, and he knew he had no choice, but a part of him longed to stay, to spend a little more time with Ji-Won, even if just for one more hour.

"I'll see you after the break, right?" Youn-Jae asked, his voice softer than usual, a subtle sadness weaving through his words.

Ji-Won's smile brightened, radiating a warmth that both comforted and tugged at Youn-Jae's heart. Yet, something in Youn-Jae's expression hinted that the smile wasn't enough. Letting out a light sigh, he pouted like a child and playfully reached out to pinch Ji-Won's cheek, his eyes shining with both fondness and reluctance.

"Why aren't you giving me a proper goodbye?" he teased, narrowing his eyes in playful frustration.

Ji-Won chuckled, his hand lifting to rub his cheek where Youn-Jae had pinched it. "I did give you a goodbye. I responded with a smile, didn't I?"

Youn-Jae shook his head, clearly unsatisfied. He tugged Ji-Won close and pulled him into an affectionate hug, his voice softening with emotion as he rested his chin on Ji-Won's shoulder. "Don't ignore my messages, okay? And let me know when you're back in Seoul… promise?"

Youn-Jae gently pulled back, his eyes searching Ji-Won's for reassurance, vulnerability flickering in his gaze. "You've forgiven me, haven't you?" he asked, his tone more serious now, as if the answer held something precious.

Ji-Won, ever the tease, shook his head slowly with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Nope."

Youn-Jae's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in exaggerated shock. "What?!"

Ji-Won shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Maybe… after a week without seeing you, I might start reconsidering."

Youn-Jae pouted, his lips tugging down as he looked at Ji-Won with playful desperation. "Then maybe I should stay here until you forgive me."

Laughing, Ji-Won gave him a light smack on the cheek and gently pushed him back. "Just go, Hyung! You're slacking too much already. I bet there's a mountain of work waiting for you."

At that moment, Secretary Min approached, his voice steady yet insistent. "Sir, it's time to board."

Youn-Jae hesitated, his gaze fixed on Ji-Won, unwilling to part just yet. With a deep breath, he turned to Ji-Won and pulled him into one last embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around him, as if hoping that the warmth of this moment would linger long after he left. This wasn't just a casual hug—it was filled with unspoken words, a silent request to hold onto their closeness a little longer.

Ji-Won's voice was soft, barely a whisper against Youn-Jae's chest. "Take care, Hyung," he murmured, his hands lingering on Youn-Jae's back, feeling the strength in his embrace.

Youn-Jae tightened his hold, his chin resting atop Ji-Won's head as he took a moment to memorize the feel of him in his arms. Finally, with great reluctance, he released Ji-Won, his fingers brushing softly against Ji-Won's as he stepped back, his gaze lingering as he prepared to walk away.

As he moved toward the gate, Youn-Jae glanced back one last time, offering Ji-Won a small, wistful smile before disappearing into the crowd.

***

"Are we really going this far, Andrew?" James called out, his voice carrying a note of exasperation as he rummaged through his things.

Andrew barely glanced at him, his face a picture of calm indifference. "Can you be quiet for once? You're too loud," he replied, his tone as smooth as ever but laced with a hint of annoyance.

Their conversation in English drew several curious glances from passersby, some intrigued by the language, others captivated by the men themselves. Both tall, well-dressed, and striking in appearance, they couldn't help but stand out among the throngs of travelers. But while James's energy radiated impatience, Andrew's unflappable calm seemed to amplify the contrast between them.

Pausing to look over the bustling crowd, Andrew asked, "Did you book a car to take us to the hotel?" His voice remained steady, his eyes scanning the exit without a hint of urgency.

James let out an exaggerated scoff, his eyes narrowing as he shot Andrew a sidelong glare. "Yes, yes, I handled everything," he replied, his voice sharpened with irritation. "Why, did you bring me here to be your personal assistant?" He rolled his eyes dramatically, letting his words hang in the air with a note of sarcasm that matched his growing annoyance.

As they waited near the exit for their car, James's restlessness only intensified. He shifted from foot to foot, his fingers tapping impatiently on the handle of his suitcase, casting occasional glances toward the entrance as if willing the car to appear. Andrew, in contrast, stood perfectly composed, his posture relaxed and gaze steady, unfazed by the delay.

James shot him another frustrated look, muttering under his breath, "How can you be so calm? We've been standing here forever."

Andrew's gaze remained forward, his calm expression unbroken. "Patience, James," he replied, his tone dry, with a trace of amusement. "It's good for the soul."

James huffed, his lips curving into a begrudging smile despite himself. "Well, maybe I don't have the luxury of a soul like yours," he replied, crossing his arms defiantly but with a trace of humor breaking through his impatience.

The story doesn't end here...