Chapter 20

Outside, a few of Taeheon’s subordinates loitered, keeping an eye on the surroundings.  

As he made his way toward his parked car, he scowled.  

“Put that out.”  

The employee standing by the roadside blinked, hesitating before removing the cigarette from his lips.  

The man beside him kicked his calf, urging him along.  

“Hurry up and put it out, you idiot!”  

“A-ah, yes! …Director, do you dislike smoking?”  

“It’s the *young madam* who doesn’t like it.”  

A murmur of hushed conversations rippled behind him.  

Everyone in his circle knew that Taeheon had quit smoking after getting married.  

“Did you finish up your business?”  

As soon as he got into the car, his right-hand man in the driver’s seat acknowledged him.  

“Not yet. It’ll take some time to wrap this up.”  

“They’re stubborn bastards. Still acting c*cky just because the Chairman used to let them off easy.”  

“My father’s old friends have always been troublesome.”  

Loyalty, tradition, and personal favors—those useless sentiments always made things more complicated than necessary.  

Pressing his forehead against the cold glass, Taeheon quietly calculated his next move.  

His brows furrowed deeply before smoothing out again.  

An unpleasant conclusion had taken shape.  

“We’re stopping by the hospital.”  

“To see the Chairman?”  

“I need to discuss something with him.”  

“Because of this situation? Makes sense. Before we crush that bastard completely, I suppose it’s best to at least inform the Chairman first.”  

“It’s not about business.”  

Watching the nightscape blur past the window, Taeheon rubbed his temple as a faint headache flickered through his skull.  

“It’s a *family matter*.”  

His dry response dissipated into the air like smoke.  

Upon arriving at the hospital, his face shed every trace of expression.  

The stark white interiors felt almost sterile, as if they could bleach away not just germs and stains but everything else, too.  

That impression only grew stronger as he entered the exclusive, high-end suite his father occupied.  

The guards stationed outside immediately opened the door upon seeing him.  

Taeheon stepped inside without so much as a greeting.  

His father’s voice greeted him, cold and curt.  

“What’s so important that you had to come at this hour?”

His father was awake, as if he had been expecting Taeheon’s visit.  

“You wouldn’t even show up when I called, and now you’re here? What’s with the sudden change of heart?”  

“Who knows.”  

Taeheon despised hospitals. He despised his father just as much.  

No one was more unsuited to a place like this than his father.  

The old man lay sprawled on the hospital bed, exuding the stale, musty scent of prolonged illness.  

“I heard the doctor’s report. So, it turns out you’re not just faking it this time.”  

If he had been in better health, something would have already been thrown at him by now. 

Instead, Seonghwan merely widened his sharp, bloodshot eyes—like an old tiger that had lost its fangs.  

Taeheon scoffed inwardly.  

Once, the name *Kwon Seonghwan* had been enough to make people tremble—the man who loaned money, seized land, slit open stomachs, and harvested organs without hesitation. 

But now, he was reduced to being bedridden every season.  

“Just say why you’re here. Is it about the new deal with China?”  

His tone was laced with irritation, yet beneath it, there was a hint of anticipation.  

Taeheon shook his head.  

He had no use for the advice of a man who believed that bribes and threats could solve everything.  

Even when he had been young and ignorant, he had never sought his father’s opinion.  

“It’s about my wife. She’s always been good to you, hasn’t she?”  

Seonghwan’s brows twitched at the unexpected subject.  

“She cooked for you on your birthday, ran herself ragged attending events you never asked her to just to maintain your connections, visited you regularly, took care of your health… Even a real daughter wouldn’t have done that much.” 

Even his *real son* hadn’t. 

He had always thought Yaein was a fool for doing all that.  

A pointless effort.  

There were people in this world who would never appreciate kindness, no matter how much they received—beasts worse than animals.  

His father was one of them.  

“She was just covering up her guilt for sneaking into our family under false pretenses.”  

As expected, Seonghwan dismissed Yaein’s devotion with a sneer.  

“Pedigree.”

Taeheon repeated the word flatly.  

“Well, at least she had the sense to step back on her own. She’s not a complete idiot. I’ve already started looking for a new bride, so just get rid of her properly and prepare for remarriage.”  

A new bride.

They hadn’t even signed the divorce papers yet, and his father was already making arrangements for his next wife.  

He almost wanted to applaud.  

“Like you did?”  

“What?”  

Seonghwan’s expression twisted in an instant.  

“You got rid of Mother so neatly, didn’t you? I suppose children really do take after their parents.”  

“You—what the hell did you just say? You crazy bastard—”  

“What else would you expect? A crazy woman gave birth to me and raised me, so of course, her son turned out crazy too.”  

His father’s face turned a dangerous shade of red, his mouth opening and closing in speechless rage.  

Taeheon wouldn’t have been surprised if the old man clutched his nape and collapsed right then and there.  

“This is what you always used to say, isn’t it?”  

It wasn’t even a lie.  

Born from two lunatics, how could he have turned out sane?

Seonghwan straightened his upper body, veins bulging on his forehead.  

“You came all the way here just to argue about your damn wife? To your father?”  

Taeheon didn’t dodge the water bottle that came flying at him.  

It struck his ribcage with a dull thud before falling to the floor.  

“Even when you’re on the brink of death, you still think you can use my marriage to launder your name? You really never change.”  

That insatiable hunger for power—it was the same reason the control-obsessed old man had sent him overseas for school.  

Even now, Taeheon believed that had been his chance to escape.  

Back then, he had no intention of returning.  

Crossing the ocean, he had wanted to leave behind everything—his family, the business, the memories.  

But *he* had been the one to drag himself back.  

Because the filth in his blood wouldn’t let him go.  

Even in a new land, nothing had changed. There was no liberation.  

Distance from his father hadn’t erased his fury. His mother’s voice hadn’t faded completely.  

He had wanted to live properly—only to realize he didn’t even know what that meant.  

Everything he touched turned to filth.  

He had been exceptional. Professors admired him. People followed him. Women pursued him.  

A new city, a new career, new people—he could have had them all.  

Then, before he even noticed, he was committing crimes.  

One night’s work could earn him tens of thousands of dollars. People feared him. Blood flowed again.  

Everything new became ruined, just like before.  

He had believed that cutting away the rotting pieces would allow him to live cleanly—only to realize **he himself was the rot.**  

He had run like a madman…  

But in the end, the only place to return to was the same family’s shadow.  

“I’m not getting a divorce. But for everything else, I’ll do as you say.”  

“To grow this business bigger, you need to match the bastards who like to play righteous. That’s why I had you marry into a wealthy family in the first place. But what the hell do you know?”  

That, right there, was why his father was outdated.  

Taeheon let out a quiet chuckle.  

“When the foundation is rotten, laundering the surface won’t change a thing.”  

This time, an entire fruit basket came flying toward him.  

Even as a patient, his father still had the strength to lash out.  

Taeheon shifted to the side, letting it crash against the floor. The sharp scent of crushed fruit spread through the room.  

“Get out.” 

Seonghwan jabbed a furious hand toward the door.  

Instead, Taeheon walked over and drew the curtain shut—making sure no one could see inside, even from a distance.  

“Be good to my wife.”  

He stepped closer to the hospital bed.  

Once, this man had been large enough to lift him and throw him into a basement without effort.  

Now, all that remained was an aging husk, skin drying out like old parchment.  

Time had attacked this body mercilessly, forcing every old injury to settle into irreversible ruin.  

“I don’t mean taking care of her like *family.* You were never good at looking after your own blood anyway.”  

Taeheon reached for the IV line connected to his father’s wrist.  

When he pulled it taut, Seonghwan’s brows twitched.  

He had imagined it so many times. 

Lifting a pillow, pressing it down over his father’s face—holding it there.  

It would be easy.  

The once-powerful arms that had terrorized him were weak now, shrunken with age.  

They wouldn’t be able to stop him.  

Should he do it?

Ironically, it was his wife’s face that held Taeheon’s wrist in place at that moment.  

If she ever found out about this—**would she still stay by his side?** 

Would she allow a man drenched in his father’s blood to sleep next to her?  

Taeheon let go of the IV line.  

The reverse flow of blood mixed with the clear fluid in the tube, spreading through it like a slow stain.  

“All I’m saying is, stop tormenting her. Stop punishing her and hurling insults every chance you get. Just *leave her alone.* Quietly.”  

So she could stay.  

So she could remain beside him, just like before.  

“If you do that, I’ll stay quiet too—until the day you die.”  

In a way, his father’s decision to force this marriage upon him had been the right one.  

At the very least, **it had saved his life.**  

The room, steeped in an eerie silence, was suddenly filled with the sound of Seonghwan’s shoulders shaking.  

The deep wrinkles on his disease-worn face twisted unpleasantly.  

A hoarse, grating laugh clawed through the hospital air.  

“You’re really making a fuss over one *little b*tch,* huh?”  

His voice dripped with mockery, amusement curling through his words.  

Like the predator he had always been, his father had already recognized his own advantage.  

He had seen through Taeheon.  

Seonghwan kept laughing.  

Taeheon turned his back on him and walked out of the room.

With every step he took, his shadow clung to the ground like sticky tar, pulling at his soles. His stride felt heavier, dragged down by something unseen.  

Once, Taeheon had a clear goal—to drag his father down from his throne and leave him to rot in a dark, windowless room.

To let the rats gnaw at his corpse, burying him in some nameless mountain without a tombstone, ensuring that even in death, he suffered his own insignificance.  

But what did one do with something so utterly unforgivable?  

How did one properly *cauterize* a wound that still festered, still breathed?  

Even now, Taeheon hadn’t found the perfect method. 

As soon as he got back into the car, his subordinate started driving without needing to be told.

The stench of antiseptic and sterile hospital air clung to his clothes unpleasantly.  

He rolled down the backseat window. 

“How much longer do you think the Chairman can hold out?”  

“Don’t say things like that, sir. He’ll be back on his feet soon.”  

“That’d be a problem.”  

“…Sir?”  

His subordinate looked startled, but Taeheon only smirked faintly.  

“Did you look into what I asked?”  

The moment he changed the subject, a rushed answer followed.  

“Oh—yes. About the young madam. We checked what we could—CCTV footage, black box recordings—but she hasn’t met with anyone suspicious. She’s been going to the same places as usual.”  

“Is that so?”  

She wasn’t stupid enough to be openly entertaining another man.  

But she wasn’t cunning enough to hide her tracks completely either.  

So what was it?  

Could it be someone she already knew?  

He had a thorough understanding of her acquaintances—she only ever met with women from her social circle.

Even as he went through the list of possibilities, nothing stood out.  

‘Was Lee Yaein really capable of hiding something this well?’

The thought unsettled him.  

“Are we heading back to Incheon?”  

“Hmm…”  

He should say yes.  

But something about it didn’t sit right.  

For no clear reason, a vague unease scraped against the edge of his nerves.