Episode 49
“You call this an important event?”
Taeyoon’s voice was sharp with disbelief, his steps heavy with irritation. Chief Song bowed deeply, clearly unsure how to respond.
“I’m sorry. The chairman’s orders were quite firm.”
As he bowed repeatedly, Chief Song walked to the car’s trunk and opened it. From a shopping bag, he carefully took out a pink bouquet and handed it to Taeyoon.
Taeyoon stared at it sideways and asked coldly:
“And what exactly am I supposed to do with this?”
“Chairman Seo instructed that you must personally deliver it to Ms. Yoo Chahee.”
Taeyoon shot him a piercing glare. But Song didn’t withdraw his hand. That alone made it clear how strict Chairman Seo’s command had been.
As Taeyoon glared at the bouquet, a voice echoed in his mind like a ringing in his ears—Sorin’s voice.
“Marry Chahee.”
That tearful voice…
“Please… just marry her.”
Again, more clearly this time.
“I’m exhausted. I’m tired of being stuck between you, your mother, and Chahee. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to hold on anymore.”
Her trembling words had cut into him like knives. His chest tightened painfully.
Was that it? Was she truly in so much pain she couldn’t endure being by his side anymore? Is that why she left?
A shadow fell across Taeyoon’s eyes.
If Sorin could live without suffering—if he married Chahee and removed that pain from her life—would she return?
Taeyoon clenched his jaw and snatched the bouquet from Song’s hands as if to crush it. Then he headed inside without a word.
Song sighed in relief and followed after him.
—
The concert hall was already full.
Soft classical music floated through the air. Groups of attendees chatted as they made their way in. From the entrance onward, the venue was plastered with PPL logos promoting Osung Group’s cars, electronics, and daily products.
Taeyoon wasn’t surprised. Lacking the talent but wanting to please his daughter’s vanity, Chairman Yoo had probably paid to set this whole stage up for her.
A stage for Yoo Chahee, by Yoo Chahee, only about Yoo Chahee.
Crude. Embarrassing. Like a child’s dress-up play.
Even the audience was handpicked—guests brought in by Osung Group or Chahee herself.
Taeyoon found it laughable that he was sitting among them. But if playing this ridiculous game meant he could find Eun Sorin again—he’d endure it.
With the bouquet in hand, Taeyoon sat down wherever there was an empty seat. The audience was scattered enough that no one noticed.
Leaning his cheek on his palm, he waited for the performance to end—before it had even begun.
From behind him, hushed voices carried forward.
“Yoo Chahee must really have money. Performing Giselle at a place like this?”
“She’s always been ambitious. But let’s be honest—does she even fit the role of Giselle? The girl could barely do a pirouette. She just has to copy everything Eun Sorin ever did.”
Taeyoon turned slightly. Two young women were whispering behind him. Judging by their age and tone, they were likely Chahee and Sorin’s former classmates from the arts high school.
Their gossip, loud enough to carry, reached his ears word for word. And their voices grew bolder.
“Back in our day, Sorin did the best Giselle. If only it weren’t for that one photo…”
“You mean the stair accident? I heard her ligaments were completely torn.”
“Exactly. Isn’t that weird? Why would she fall right before the Giselle performance?”
Giselle. The stairway fall. And Eun Sorin.
As he listened, Taeyoon’s memories began to stir.
Sorin had attended Seonghyeon Arts High, one of Korea’s most prestigious institutions. Its annual recital was a major event that drew top professionals from the arts industry.
Sorin had been chosen for the lead role that year, preparing for months. But the day before the show, she had fallen down the stairs. She lost the performance… and the dream she’d held for over ten years.
These women were talking about that time—the darkest period in Sorin’s life, right after she’d lost her mother.
One of the girls hesitated, sensing they were saying too much.
“Hey, let’s not bring up the past. That was years ago.”
But the other lowered her voice and leaned in, clearly eager to share what she knew.
“There’s a rumor Chahee caused that fall.”
“…Chahee?”
“Think about it. She ended up on stage instead. Coincidence?”
“Come on, that’s not enough proof…”
The first girl waved her hand dismissively, but the second whispered even more softly:
“Sorin insisted Chahee pushed her on the stairs. But who would believe her? Not at a school sponsored by Osung Group.”
The voice grew fainter—nearly inaudible. But Taeyoon’s sharp hearing missed nothing.
—
The music faded. The lights dimmed. The curtains rose.
A spotlight brightened, and there she was—Chahee—walking gracefully to center stage in white ballet shoes.
Soon, she began to dance, her movements gentle and elegant across the stage.
The audience held its breath, fully focused on her.
But Taeyoon watched her differently.
The woman who trampled on someone else’s dream and future—he stared at her with colder eyes than anyone in the room.
His grip tightened around the bouquet. The stems bent. Petals crumpled.
And with it, his expression hardened.
—
The performance ended. The lights dimmed again. The crowd burst into applause.
Chahee stepped down from the stage, beaming with joy.
She’d made several small mistakes—technically four, if she were honest—but nothing serious. Overall, the performance had gone well.
And most importantly: Taeyoon had come.
“Oppa came!”
Her heart pounded wildly.
Chief Song had told her before the show that Taeyoon would attend, and she felt like her heart might leap out of her chest.
She hadn’t expected it. She hadn’t even hoped for it.
Just knowing he’d seen the Giselle she had worked so hard for made her feel like she owned the world.
Chahee rushed to the waiting room. As she neared the hallway, she spotted a tall figure in the distance.
Smiling brightly, she ran toward him.
“Oppa!”
Seeing her, Taeyoon also picked up his pace. Their distance quickly shrank.
But as she got closer, something about his expression struck her as… wrong.
His face was stiff. His eyes, cold.
“Oppa?”
She slowed down. Before she could reach him fully, Taeyoon grabbed her shoulders and pinned her against the wall.
“Is it true?”
His low, heavy voice shook her.
“W-what are you talking about, Oppa?”
People were watching—friends and family who had come to congratulate her. She forced a smile.
“Not here… let’s talk later.”
But Taeyoon showed no sign of letting her go.
“They said it was you. That you pushed Sorin down the stairs. That you destroyed her ankle.”
Chahee’s mouth parted slightly in shock. That secret—buried for nearly ten years—how had it gotten out?
She tried to laugh it off, gently wriggling away.
“Oppa, is this really the time? It’s my performance day.”
“Do you know how hard I worked for this?”
