Chapter 09
“I have about a hundred thousand dollars.”
“……”
“If I scrape everything together, maybe two hundred thousand.”
“Three hundred million won?”
“Elon is nothing but a ridiculous scam. Considering what you earn when a short sell succeeds, it’s not exactly a small amount.”
The story of Kang Jong-woo and Daniel Miller making a fortune by shorting Elon was still several years in the future.
Even so, since it was destined to be Kang Jong-woo’s doing, Kang Da-som gained his attention by telling him in advance.
If not for this matter, she would never have had any reason to get involved with him. Kang Jong-woo didn’t answer her words.
Leaning back in his chair, he fiddled with his phone. By then, the sunset had disappeared, and the night sky blanketed the glass windows, revealing the city lights of Seoul.
“Let’s eat first and talk after. This place is good.”
When Kang Jong-woo gestured toward the door, the secretary who had been waiting outside called someone in. Soon, appetizers and dishes began arriving.
Neither of them spoke throughout the meal. It was as if all the talk about Elon and investments earlier had been nothing but lies—an awkward air filled the room.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?”
While cutting his steak, Kang Jong-woo’s gaze fell on Kang Da-som’s phone lying face down on the table. The faint glow of the screen flashing on and off through the gaps was distracting.
She picked it up briefly, checked, then chuckled softly before setting it back down.
“It’s not an important call.”
“Looks like it’s important to the other side. Who is it?”
“Yoon Sung-hoon.”
“Hm.”
At the mention of Yoon Sung-hoon’s name, Kang Jong-woo’s expression shifted strangely. No further conversation followed, and soon the meal moved on naturally to dessert.
“There’s a frenzy in America right now over investing in Elon.”
“You think it’s fake?”
“No.”
Kang Jong-woo smirked.
When it came to money and grand ambitions, he was a man with a steel heart that thrilled more than anyone else.
Sipping his coffee, he pulled a card from his pocket. He looked as if he were about to hand it to Kang Da-som, but instead, he set his hand down on top of it.
“Let’s hear what you’re thinking.”
“For me, it’s only ever been ballet. They stole my soul from me—so I thought, maybe I should pay them back in kind. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
“Charmant Ballet Company.”
A French ballet troupe with four hundred years of tradition. If Kang Da-som had been admitted, she would have been the first Asian, the first Korean, in its history.
Kang Jong-woo had once, during a visit to Korea, seen Kang Da-som perform ballet.
At first, it was mere curiosity, but despite the countless dancers, she stood out—memorable enough that he immediately knew who she was.
“Must’ve been hard on you, to say something like that.”
“I was planning to go to France. Even if not there, I just wanted to live quietly overseas. I’m sick of Korea—these chaebols and their make-believe royalty games. Who do they think they are?”
Right after her graduation performance, Da-som had received offers from world-renowned ballet companies. Some even promised to take care of her living expenses and convenience abroad.
When she was told to get engaged to Yoon Sung-hoon, Da-som had begged and begged in tears.
Just let me dance, she pleaded. Let me live quietly. I won’t come back to Korea, I’ll disappear if only you’ll allow me to go.
She had even been willing to live as if she didn’t exist.
Those desperate pleas remained vividly in her heart, as fresh as if they had happened only yesterday.
“I can handle Yoon Sung-hoon. I know exactly what you’re worried about.”
“What am I worried about?”
“You’re wary of Cheonmyung, aren’t you?”
Even for Kang Jong-woo, tangling with a family tied to Korea’s number one conglomerate through the maternal line was no easy burden.
Da-som didn’t know it herself, but her marriage to Yoon Sung-hoon had delayed Kang Jong-woo’s revenge by over a decade.
But now, when their goals aligned, was there really any need to hold back?
Kang Young-jun silently watched Kang Da-som. Thanks to Baek Sung-tae’s reports, he roughly knew what Jong-woo intended to do with her. And he had also received updates about her from time to time.
“Ah, our Sung-tae. He needs to sharpen his eye for people.”
Even if she was a half-sister, the venom burning in her eyes was no ordinary thing.
Where, in her, was the fragile girl who knew nothing but ballet?
No—she was like him. If she wanted something, she would take it. She could deceive not only those around her, but even herself, for the sake of her goals.
Even her recent spree of buying out every luxury brand at the department store must have been a calculated act.
Kang Jong-woo tilted his chin toward the phone on the table.
“Answer it.”
Finally, Da-som picked it up and answered.
— Ha, Da-som, why aren’t you picking up? The party just started. Don’t ever see that Manager Min again, okay? Where are you? I’ll send someone to get you right now. Just show your face for a moment, that’s all I’m asking.
“Oppa, this isn’t about Manager Min.”
— Then what the hell is this about?
“You should’ve at least kept your little games with department store salesgirls from getting out. Rumors spread everywhere.”
— Those bitches…! I’m sorry.
“You said you’d make me happy, but it’s all just talk? Every time I go to the department store, I hear people whispering that my husband is out fooling around. They say it to my face! Everyone knows you were calling Manager Min while I was right there shopping with her. Is there nothing you care about? Forget it. Think it over, and call me back later.”
Click.
She hung up coldly. As she set her phone back down—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow applause echoed in the room. Lowering his hands, Kang Jong-woo spoke.
“Well, would you look at that. That monkey bastard didn’t even twitch.”
“Monkey?”
“That’s what all the women who’ve slept with Yoon Sung-hoon say, isn’t it? That he’s quick. Isn’t that right?”
“If only that were the problem.”
Da-som let out a bitter laugh as she sipped her coffee. Back when she knew nothing, she had thought that was just how things were supposed to be.
“So, you’ve slept with him then.”
At his muttered words, Da-som’s brows furrowed. Just the thought of those memories made her stomach turn.
Setting down her cup, she steadied her breath with a hand on her chest.
“If you add eight hundred thousand to two hundred, that makes a million, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll invest a million dollars in your name. Do whatever you want with it later.”
As he fiddled with his phone, a man in a suit entered from inside. With a nod from Jong-woo, he handed Da-som a white envelope.
She opened it.
A cashier’s check.
Ten slips.
“This is pocket money, for all the years I didn’t act like an older brother.”
“You’re very generous.”
“Am I not? I wonder if our dear Chairman Kang knew—how the child he threw away would turn out like this.”
Da-som tucked the card away. Jong-woo rested his chin on his arm, watching her.
“I’ll give you my private number. Call me if there’s ever a problem.”
“To you?”
“Why, is it a burden?”
“No, no. Honestly, I just didn’t expect you to treat me like this.”
“Then how did you expect me to treat you?”
“I thought you’d just see me as useful, nothing more.”
Her words were half true. The first time Da-som had ever seen Jong-woo was at her wedding to Yoon Sung-hoon.
Since then, they had only crossed paths occasionally, and then disappeared again.
‘Well, how could it be your fault?’
She remembered hearing him mutter that in her previous life, just once, and catching a flicker of complicated emotions in his eyes. Back then, she hadn’t known who he was.
Until UL Cables was about to be acquired by a company called Night Investment, she hadn’t even imagined there could be another illegitimate child besides herself.
Now, she thought she finally understood the meaning in his gaze. Bitterness, and guilt.
It was only her assumption—there was no way to be sure the present Jong-woo felt the same.
“You’re my sister, after all. We share the same bastard father.”
“Thank you. Truly.”
“Don’t thank me. Even if I’m treating you well, like you said—if I didn’t see you as useful, I wouldn’t bother. So you’d better take everything you can from me, with double or triple interest.”
“I will.”
“And eat some more. What are you, a stick?”
At his muttered words, Da-som chuckled. The atmosphere lightened a little.
“I need to make a call. I’ll order more dessert.”
Excusing himself, Jong-woo stepped out. Da-som took a deep breath and checked her phone.
Countless missed calls. And now it was ringing again.
She knew better than anyone what Chairman Yoon’s birthday party was like.
How could she not, when she’d attended dozens of times since marrying Yoon Sung-hoon?
She assumed it was him again—but froze when she saw a strange number. It wasn’t saved, yet she somehow knew who it must be.
“Hello?”
— Why aren’t you coming?
