Chapter 10

"I want them all to fight for it. I refuse to simply hand it over to anyone who asks," Yui-Hyuk stated, pacing restlessly around his study, the rich mahogany furniture contrasting with the starkness of his thoughts as he spoke formally into the phone. "In my time, you had to build your own enterprise from the ground up just to have your name etched onto the family register. Nowadays, everything is handed on a silver platter to these kids." His voice dripped with frustration, a tangible reflection of the years of sweat and sacrifice he had poured into the company he had nurtured from its inception. The idea of relinquishing control to the first heir in line felt like a betrayal of everything he had worked for, robbing him of the enjoyment and fulfillment that had driven him for decades.

These feelings ran deeper than mere frustration. Yui-Hyuk grappled with a complex mixture of pride and doubt that held him back from officially naming Woo-San as the heir, despite his years of diligent service. To the outside world, it appeared as though Woo-San had already ascended to the role of chairman, basking in the glow of stakeholders and employees who believed in his leadership. What they didn't see, however, was Yui-Hyuk's calculated approach—giving Woo-San a mere taste of authority before yanking it away, sparking a competitive fire among him and his cousins, a fierceness he deemed necessary for the position.

Adding to this tumult was the discomfort Yui-Hyuk felt as whispers about Woo-San's personal life began to circulate. He struggled to separate his assessment of Woo-San's capabilities from the shadow cast by his sexual orientation. For a long time, Woo-San had embodied the perfect successor in Yui-Hyuk's eyes, primed to take the helm. Yet now, the very qualities that had made him an exceptional candidate seemed to cloud Yui-Hyuk's judgment.

"They are all misfits in their own right. If even one of them had been flawless, there would be no contest," he mused, reflecting on his heirs. In his estimation, it would be unjust to favor Woo-San simply because he had been raised under Yui-Hyuk's watchful eye, especially when the other contenders had their own merits. "It'll be intriguing to see how far they're willing to go to challenge each other for this coveted place." After years of plotting and anticipating this moment, Yui-Hyuk felt a surge of excitement course through him—it was time to set his schemes into motion, to watch as they tested their mettle in this high-stakes game of ambition and legacy.

"Maybe you should consider what he suggested," Sung-Hoon said, absently munching on the freshly baked bread that Yixan had brought all the way from Seoul. After their heated argument, she had driven for hours, seeking solace in Sung-Hoon's company since returning to the cafe felt unbearable. The air in the house was thick with the aroma of yeast and the coldness of the fresh cement, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling in her mind.

"I did not sleep cramped in my car for you to offer me such ridiculous advice," Yixan shot back, stretching her back as if trying to relieve the tension that had knotted up within her during the long night coiled against the unforgiving seat. "If it were that simple, I wouldn't have been in this miserable situation for so long."

"I'm not the one being foolish here," Sung-Hoon countered, a trace of frustration creeping into his voice. "The old man found you in such a dark place and offered you a home. Do you even grasp what a truly grateful person looks like? Someone who would move mountains to repay that kind of kindness? You could stand to learn a lesson or two from Yeon-Jun."

Yixan paused, swallowing the last bite of bread as she washed it down with a generous gulp of water, feeling the cool liquid settle against her irritated throat. "I didn't want to bring this up," she replied slowly, careful with her words, "but that same mindset has brought nothing but pain into Yeon-Jun's life. He sacrificed his dreams, his education—everything—to become what? A barista?" Her voice was laced with disappointment. Though Sung-Hoon admired Yeon-Jun's loyalty to their father, he seemed oblivious to the cost of that loyalty. Yixan continued, "And it's not as if your father acted out of pure selflessness. He did it so he could get something in return."

Sung-Hoon's expression shifted, his eyes betraying a flicker of anxiety. "You thought no one would find out?" Yixan added, a slight smirk teasing the corners of her lips as she watched him grapple with her words. In the silence that followed, the air grew heavy with unspoken truths.

"It's not my place to judge or dictate how you should handle this, but if I hear one more patronizing remark from you, I won't hold back," she warned, her tone firm yet tinged with concern. Sung-Hoon nodded slowly, the tension between them palpable. At that moment, their camaraderie had skated perilously close to hostility, but, as it often did, the atmosphere shifted back to something more familiar. They had learned to tread carefully around each other's sensitivities, navigating the intricate balance of their friendship like seasoned tightrope walkers.

"You're late," Tae-Min remarked with a feigned air of indignation as Hee-Jun hurriedly wrapped his fingers around the back of the chair before lowering himself onto the seat opposite him. He removed his coat, revealing a crisp white shirt that seemed slightly crumpled from his rush. "You're the one who invited me out here, and yet you had the audacity to arrive late. How rude!" He raised his shot glass, downing another generous serving of soju, his gaze sweeping over the array of liquor bottles crowding the table, some half-empty, others still sealed and waiting for attention.

"It appears that you couldn't resist starting the festivities without me," Hee-Jun said with a bemused smirk as he flipped his own shot glass upright, pouring himself a healthy measure of the potent drink. "Isn't it a bit inconsiderate to dive into the drinks before your guest arrives?" The corner of Tae-Min's mouth twitched as he sighed deeply, a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"Let's cut the pleasantries. I provided you with the lead. Did you uncover anything of significance?" Tae-Min pressed, his tone shifting from playful to serious. It had been Tae-Min who initially hinted at something worth pursuing Woo-San and Hee-Jun—but all he had to offer was a fleeting mention of Sung-Hoon's possession of a photograph featuring Yeon-Jun with an older boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Hee-Jun.

"Woo-San mentioned he stumbled across something quite intriguing," Hee-Jun replied, taking a bite of the sizzling meat before him, allowing its savory flavor to distract from the gnawing concerns in his mind. "It's not the gold mine we've been looking for, but it could be worth our while." He smiled, his expression momentarily brightening as he relished the warmth of the food. "Who would have thought that your friendship with Sung-Hoon would turn out to be fortuitous for me?" Hee-Jun's cheerful demeanor, however, did little to sway Tae-Min, who seemed more fixated on the bigger picture.

"I was actually planning to hold onto this for a while longer," Hee-Jun said, reaching into his coat pocket, his expression turning more solemn. With a slow and deliberate motion, he revealed a small, elegantly crafted box and placed it on the table between them. As he popped open the lid, the glow of a beautiful gold locket caught Tae-Min's eye, the compartment revealing a tender image of his parents, frozen in a moment of affection.

In an instant, Tae-Min's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, the sight of the locket stirring a tidal wave of emotion within him. He quickly snatched it and tucked it away, unwilling to let his vulnerability slip in such a public setting.

"You really ought to consider surrounding yourself with a few more friends," Hee-Jun observed, slipping his coat back on and preparing to depart. "Perhaps ones who can offer a bit more intimacy than Sung-Hoon. The bonds forged in college can carry you far, but they won't always be there when you need someone to be truly open."

"You sure have a lot of unsolicited advice," Tae-Min retorted as he downed another shot, the fiery liquid cascading down his throat while Hee-Jun simply smiled knowingly at him. "This isn't just for my entertainment. Few will take the time to look out for you like this." As he adjusted his coat, Hee-Jun glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, anxiety mounting as time slipped away. "Sometimes, it might be less lonely to stay with a stranger than to face solitude." With those words hanging in the air, he turned and exited the lively bar.

"That didn't sound particularly beneficial..." Tae-Min murmured to himself, lost in thought, as he promptly ordered three more bottles, a hint of defiance in his gaze.

That night, he visited a stranger, determined to prove Hee-Jun's words wrong. However, he ended up proving them right instead. The stranger he approached treated him with such kindness that it felt as if they had been friends for ages. Perhaps it was simply a reflection of Yeon-Su's character, as he seemed like someone who would selflessly help anyone in need. Tae-Min told himself this lie to justify his actions and to lessen the impact of Hee-Jun's advice, but after some time, even he couldn't deny the truth any longer—Hee-Jun had given him good advice.