Chapter 9.3

Chairman Kwon Gi-jo’s mansion. 

Today, his mansion welcomed a special visitor.  

“Now, Chairman. Please feel free to start from your childhood. Focus on the periods and events that were significant. Since this is a memoir, don’t leave out any personal regrets or joys you felt during those times.”  

The visitor was a ghostwriter tasked with writing his memoirs.  

“Then, I’ll begin recording.”  

Kwon Gi-jo stared at his wrinkled, bony hands and began reminiscing about the past.  

“…I originally lived in Seoul. Around middle school, my family moved to Seoan County because of my father’s financial business.”  

After moving to Seoan County, his family worked hard to establish connections with Sowon Construction, one of the influential families in the area. Starting any business in Seoan was nearly impossible without Sowon Construction’s cooperation.  

Sowon Construction took a particular interest in young Kwon Gi-jo. Coincidentally, they had a daughter his age, Hye-rin.  

Kwon Gi-jo’s father also paid attention to Hye-rin.  

The two families secretly decided to pair them together, arranging for them to ride to and from school in the same car every day.  

The adults hoped the two would naturally grow closer to each other.  

At that time, Kwon Gi-jo lived with his stepmother. His father had remarried for strategic reasons, and his stepmother neither mistreated him nor showed him affection.  

If he asked for food, she gave him food. If he asked for money, she gave him money. But she never gave him love. She didn’t even harbor resentment toward her stepson.  

Sometimes, he thought it might have been better if she had mistreated him. Instead, she was like an emotionless vending machine—a human vending machine designed so that the “love” button couldn’t even be pressed.  

Kwon Gi-jo hated and feared the emptiness in her eyes.  

Thus, in that house, alongside the three family members, there was another presence—silence. They ate with silence, and they breathed with silence.  

The only reason he didn’t develop a mental illness was thanks to the time spent commuting to and from school. He always rode in Sowon Construction’s car with Hye-rin.  

The car wasn’t just shared with Hye-rin; her friend Seol-hwa was also there. Although Seol-hwa was Hye-rin’s friend, their relationship was somewhat complicated.  

Seol-hwa had been assigned by Sowon Construction to accompany the frail Hye-rin as a sort of personal attendant.  

Regardless, the commute was the only time Kwon Gi-jo could smile.  

Unlike the quiet Hye-rin, who resembled his stepmother, Seol-hwa always had plenty of stories to share.  

Listening to Seol-hwa’s lively voice and her endless variety of topics, they would soon find themselves in front of the school, and then, just as quickly, back home.  

Around the time he was about to graduate from high school, the discussions about his marriage to Hye-rin began in earnest.  

“How about we arrange for Gi-jo and Hye-rin to marry a few years after graduation?”  

The two families agreed to have them wed when they turned twenty-five.  

The bond between the two companies strengthened, solidified by the engagement. It was also around this time that Kwon Gi-jo’s financial company changed its name to include the word “Sowon.”  

After graduating high school, Kwon Gi-jo no longer had any reason to see Seol-hwa. From that point on, he couldn’t eat or sleep properly.  

“I realized it was lovesickness when I was about twenty.”  

“…Ah, I see.”  

The ghostwriter, who had been responding mechanically, barely managed to stifle a yawn.  

“Do you also think my love story is like some predictable third-rate drama?”  

Kwon Gi-jo swallowed a bitter smile.  

“No, that’s not what I meant…”  

“I wish it had been. If it were just a clichéd third-rate romance with an obvious ending, it would have been better. Or at least, if it had ended with our parents’ generation, that would have been fine too…”  

The regret-laden tone in Kwon Gi-jo’s voice left the ghostwriter unsure of how to respond, so he kept his mouth shut.  

“That’s enough for today. Next time, make sure you’re fully alert. Because the events that shook my entire life began shortly after that.”  

***

She woke up, struggling. She woke up, drenched in tears. She woke up, her throat parched.  

All night, she kept waking up like that.  

When she finally opened her eyes, dawn had already broken into morning.  

Eun-sol rubbed her dry eyes and noticed her phone blinking. On the cracked screen, from when it had fallen to the floor yesterday, was a message from Jeong-hyeok, who was away on a business trip.  

With weakened fingers, she clicked on the message, and a photo appeared.  

Though the cracked screen made it hard to see clearly, it was an image of a vase filled with tulips on a conference table.  

There was no other message accompanying the photo. But even this was enough for her to understand what he wanted to convey.  

This business trip of his was part of a government-level project for the reconstruction of a war-torn nation, an immensely significant schedule involving the President and high-ranking government officials.  

‘In such a serious atmosphere, workaholic Kwon Jeong-hyeok actually got distracted by the centerpiece on the table and even thought to take a photo and send it to me?’  

Her vision blurred with tears. The face of Jeong-hyeok, which existed in her memory, blurred as well.  

Just yesterday morning, she had tied his necktie over his dress shirt.  

From his sharp jawline to his lips, and his prominent nose—she had carefully taken in every detail of his face, knowing she wouldn’t see him for the next ten days.  

Yet, now, she couldn’t remember a single thing about his face.  

‘What secret are you hiding? Were we really never meant to be together?’  

Lying blankly in bed, Eun-sol finally got up.  

Should I ignore it and look away? 

If she did, perhaps she could maintain her current ordinary life.  

But it was already like a nail that had suddenly popped out of the floor. If ignored, it would inevitably cause injury and draw blood.  

So, she had to either hammer it deeply back in or pull it out entirely—one or the other.  

‘First, I need to find out the truth.’  

Eun-sol picked up her phone and called Vice Minister Yoon. She was someone who had told her to reach out whenever she needed help.  

“…Yes, please. Thank you. I won’t be using this phone anymore, so I won’t be reachable. Instead, I’ll visit your house twice a day.”  

Next, she called Attorney Chu Seo-jin’s office.  

– Eun-sol, it’s great to hear from you! Instead of talking over the phone like this, let’s meet in person.

“I don’t want to meet. All I want from you, Attorney Chu Seo-jin, is Chairman Kwon Gi-jo’s toothbrush. Please send it via courier. The delivery address is Vice Minister Yoon’s residence.”  

She planned to request a DNA test using Chairman Kwon Gi-jo’s toothbrush.  

After finishing her calls, she stepped into the living room. In front of the household staff, she intentionally dropped her phone onto the floor, pretending it was an accident. The already heavily cracked screen shattered completely.  

“Oh no. My phone is broken.”  

The genetic attribute test would take approximately three days.

Until then, Eun-sol had to act as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had happened. It was difficult to exchange messages with Kwon Jeong-hyeok during that time.

If she said her phone was broken, Jeong-hyeok wouldn’t find it strange that she couldn’t receive his calls for a while.

In the meantime, Eun-sol was determined to uncover the truth.

* * *

The national summit between South Korea and Akai.

What the presidents of each country said to one another, what expressions they made, what the atmosphere of the meeting was like, and what they had for lunch—breaking news about these details was broadcast in real-time in Korea.

Every word spoken could influence the nation’s status, and astronomical sums of profit were at stake, so everyone attending the meeting was on high alert.

Even Jeong-hyeok, who was used to such events, felt the fatigue creeping in after the long meeting.

“Kwon, aren’t you going to have a smoke?”

During a brief break, the Minister of Industry approached him first.

“Minister, I’ve quit smoking.”

“Didn’t we smoke together at the Incheon Airport smoking lounge just the other day?”

“I quit starting now. I’m the type to act immediately once I’ve made up my mind. Minister, why don’t you take this opportunity to quit smoking as well?”

There was no harm in maintaining close relations with high-ranking government officials. However, today, there was something more urgent than building rapport.

“I like how decisive you are, Kwon. If you were single, I would’ve snatched you up as my son-in-law.”

“Oh, Minister. Let me be. If you’re not smoking, come with us. When else will you get the chance to have one?”

Other businessmen, wary of Jeong-hyeok, flattered the Minister of Industry and followed him out in a group.

Finally left alone in the building’s hallway, Jeong-hyeok turned his phone back on.

The sound of the phone powering up felt unusually slow.

It had only been a few days, yet why did he miss her so much? Why was he so anxious?

When the phone finally turned on, there was no reply from Eun-sol.

‘Judging by the “1” disappearing, she clearly read my message.’

Jeong-hyeok quietly stared at his silent phone for a moment before calling Housekeeper Woo.