CHAPTER 32

Eighteen years ago...…

Seo-Joon was in an unusually good mood, humming a soft tune as he strolled down the narrow hallway toward the bathroom. His steps were light, almost carefree—a rare sight for someone with his usual composed and aloof demeanor. It had been nearly a month since he'd moved in with Seung-Ah, exchanging the opulence of his life as the Han family heir for the quiet simplicity of hers.

He hadn't regretted the decision, though it came with challenges. Living in Seung-Ah's modest home had been an adjustment, but it felt grounding in a way his luxury house never could.

Seo-Joon first met Seung-Ah during their college years. Her mother worked as a helper in the university cafeteria, and Seung-Ah often accompanied her. She grew up in a simple yet loving household, one brimming with warmth and unwavering support from her parents and community.

Seung-Ah was nothing short of a force of nature—strong, radiant, and undeniably charming. She had a natural ability to draw attention wherever she went, not with flashy antics but through her playful demeanor and bubbly outlook on life. Her optimism was unshakable, even in the face of hardship, and it was this resilience that first caught Seo-Joon's attention.

Despite his icy reputation and the celebrity-like status he enjoyed on campus, Seo-Joon found himself drawn to Seung-Ah in ways he couldn't explain. She didn't swoon or shrink in his presence like most others. Instead, she met him head-on, unafraid to challenge his guarded nature. Her lack of intimidation intrigued him, sparking a fascination that only grew with time.

As he reached the bathroom door, Seo-Joon paused, his humming tapering off as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Living with Seung-Ah had taught him that simplicity had its own elegance—a lesson he never thought he'd learn in his gilded life.

For Seo-Joon, who had spent years shielded by wealth and privilege, Seung-Ah's world was a revelation. And though he might not admit it aloud, it was a world he found himself reluctant to leave.

Seo-Joon reached for the shower switch, the faint hum of his earlier tune still lingering in the air. Just as he was about to turn the water on, a sudden ringing broke the quiet, startling him. He froze, his hand hovering over the switch, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Did I bring my phone in here?" 

The thought tugged at him, but he couldn't remember. To confirm his suspicion, Seo-Joon stepped out of the shower cubicle, water droplets from the faucet echoing faintly in the enclosed space. His sharp eyes scanned the small bathroom, moving over the sink and countertops.

Then, after a brief pause, he spotted it. A phone lay perched on the edge of the open cabinet, nestled awkwardly among neatly folded towels. He moved closer, brushing his damp hands on his sweatpants as he reached for it.

"Oh, it's Seung-Ah's phone. She forgot it again," Seo-Joon murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips as relief washed over him. He glanced at the screen, tilting it slightly to read the caller ID. 

"It's her mother," he murmured as the ringing abruptly stopped, leaving the phone silent.

Seo-Joon stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen as if debating whether to call back. Shaking off the thought, he turned toward the bathroom door, phone in hand as he walked out to return it to Seung-Ah.

Seo-Joon moved through the hallway, Seung-Ah's phone resting loosely in his hand. As he reached the staircase, the quiet felt off—too still, too heavy, as if the house itself was holding its breath. The faint murmur of the television trickled from the living room, but it did nothing to dispel the growing unease curling in his gut. His bare foot hovered mid-step, hesitation clawing at him, though he couldn't place why. Shaking off the feeling, he continued downward, oblivious to the nightmare awaiting him.

A pool of dark crimson spread across the floor below, the vibrant contrast against the pale wood making his stomach churn. His eyes widened, and a sharp, fiery heat surged through his chest, quickening his breaths.

"Seung-Ah?" he called out instinctively, his voice trembling as panic gripped him.

The phone slipped from his hand, landing with a hollow clatter against the steps as he rushed down. His movements were frantic, driven by pure adrenaline.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the horrific scene came into full view. A masked man loomed in the center of the room, his gloved hand fisting Seung-Ah's hair, dragging her limp body toward the door. Her lifeless eyes were closed, her body slack, and blood streaked the floor where she had been pulled.

"Let her go! Who are you?" Seo-Joon roared, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and desperation. His chest heaved, his heart pounding so fiercely it felt as though it might break free.

The masked man—Kwang-Seong—froze for a moment, startled by the sudden outburst. Slowly, he turned his head, his masked gaze locking with Seo-Joon's horrified eyes. The moment of stillness hung heavy in the air before Kwang-Seong's grip on Seung-Ah tightened. Without a word, he dragged her lifeless body closer to the door.

"No!" Seo-Joon bellowed, rushing forward with raw, unbridled determination. He lunged at Kwang-Seong, his arms straining as he grabbed hold of Seung-Ah's body, trying to pull her back. Kwang-Seong hesitated—his orders were clear: kill Seung-Ah and deliver her body to the chairman without harming the young master. Even so, Seo-Joon's relentless struggle forced him to brace against the unexpected resistance.

Using every ounce of his strength, Seo-Joon yanked Seung-Ah toward him, the intensity of the clash sending both of them crashing backward onto the floor. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain up Seo-Joon's spine, and he winced, clutching his lower back.

Kwang-Seong, undeterred and resolute in his mission, took a long stride forward, reaching down to snatch Seung-Ah's body once again. His gloved hands latched onto her as if she were nothing more than a sack of goods.

But Seo-Joon wasn't finished. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he spotted a shard of glass nearby and grabbed it with trembling fingers. In one swift motion, he hurled it at Kwang-Seong, the jagged edge striking his temple with a sickening thud.

"Ah!" Kwang-Seong stumbled, his balance faltering as he staggered back. Seo-Joon seized the opportunity, throwing himself at the masked man. They collided with a bone-jarring thud, and Seo-Joon's hands found their way to Kwang-Seong's throat.

"I won't let you take her!" Seo-Joon snarled, his grip tightening as fury coursed through him. Kwang-Seong gasped, his face contorting as it turned pale, then violet, beneath Seo-Joon's crushing grip. His hands clawed frantically at Seo-Joon's wrists, his movements growing increasingly desperate.

With a guttural growl, Kwang-Seong summoned his last ounce of strength and pried Seo-Joon's hands off his neck, gasping as air flooded back into his lungs. In the struggle, Seo-Joon managed to rip the mask off Kwang-Seong's face, and for a moment, both men froze shock spread across Seo-Joon's face, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You… Kwang-Seong? I knew it—my suspicions were right! Father sent you, didn't he? Who else would stoop this low?" he shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of betrayal and fury. 

In a frantic rush, Kwang-Seok snatched his gun, his movements jittery with nerves, and fired at Seo-Joon's shoulder. "Damn it!" he hissed under his breath, lifting an arm to shield his face. But it was too late—Seo-Joon had already recognized him. Realizing the game was up, Kwang-Seong backed away toward the window, his gun trained on Seo-Joon. His movements were swift and calculated, and with a quick glance to ensure his path was clear, he launched himself out of the window, disappearing into the night.

Seo-Joon staggered to his feet, clutching his bleeding shoulder. His breath came in ragged gasps as his gaze fell on Seung-Ah's lifeless form sprawled on the floor. His legs felt weak beneath him, but his rage burned brighter than ever. "Father…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "What have you done?"

***

Seo-Joon stood before Seung-Ah's columbarium, his knees weak and trembling, the relentless snow swirling around him, coating his hair and shoulders in thick layers of white. The cold gnawed at his skin, but he didn't care. The weight of his grief was far heavier than the chill in the air. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, nails digging into his palms, threatening to draw blood. Yet, he welcomed the pain—it was nothing compared to the emptiness inside him.

Tears mixed with the snowflakes on his face, but his sobs were silent, lost in the quiet of the falling snow. His lips quivered, and he forced himself to speak, his voice ragged and broken. "Seung-Ah... I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I failed you..." His words faltered, his throat tightening as guilt choked him.

Memories of her laughter, her warmth, her unbreakable spirit flashed through his mind, each one a reminder of the light she brought into his life. And now, that light was gone. He couldn't shake the image of her lifeless body in his arms, her blood staining his hands. "You didn't deserve this... none of it," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You were my everything, and I let them take you from me."

His grief twisted into fury, and he slammed his fist against the cold stone of the columbarium. The impact shook him, but it was nothing compared to the rage burning in his chest. "Father," he spat, his voice trembling with venom. "How could you? How could you do this to me? To her? You took the one person who gave me a reason to live and turned her into another casualty of your selfish games."

The snow continued to fall in a steady, silent blanket, but Seo-Joon remained unmoving, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his despair. "I hate you," he growled through clenched teeth, his breath ragged. "For what you've done, for the monster you've become... I'll never forgive you."

His gaze fell once more to Seung-Ah's resting place, and it was as if the weight of everything collapsed on him at once. His knees buckled, and he sank to the snow-covered ground. His trembling fingers reached out to touch the cold glass that separated him from her urn, a fragile barrier that could never bring her back. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible, a broken mantra of regret. "I'm so sorry... you should be alive, happy, with your family... if you hadn't met me."

The snow continued to fall, indifferent to his grief, as Seo-Joon knelt there, his sorrow consuming him. The world around him blurred, but in that moment, nothing else mattered. All that remained was the unbearable ache of love lost too soon, the emptiness of what could have been, and the cold weight of his own guilt.

The story doesn't end here...