Chapter 15
I Really Like You
Even though Yeoul didn’t know much about luxury brands, she recognized the one Geonwoo was wearing.
It was the same brand Seungtae often wore.
So that’s why.
She finally understood.
That was why Seungtae had been so obsessed with that particular brand.
Kim Seungtae… You were imitating everything about Geonwoo, weren’t you?
The more she thought about it, the clearer it became that Seungtae’s inferiority complex had gone far beyond what was normal.
That meant most of the things he wore and used were probably bought after seeing Geonwoo wear them first.
At this point, Yeoul began to wonder if what Seungtae felt toward Geonwoo wasn’t jealousy—but obsession.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Yes.”
Startled by Geonwoo’s sudden question, Yeoul hurriedly answered, snapping out of her thoughts.
The truth was, she hadn’t slept at all.
So much had happened—how could she sleep peacefully as if nothing had?
After dying once and turning back time, she had thought she wouldn’t fear anything anymore, that she could face anything calmly.
But she was wrong.
Everything that happened with Geonwoo, except their planned meetings, had been completely unexpected. Her mind had been in such a storm that she couldn’t close her eyes.
“I didn’t sleep a wink.”
“…What?”
“I was too happy. I was afraid that if I fell asleep, I’d wake up and find this was all a dream.”
His tone was light, but the emotion in his voice was anything but.
“Sunbae…”
She didn’t know what to say—or how to say it.
Because Ha Geonwoo… he really does like you.
Now she knew that Seungtae’s words had been true.
“I’m sorry.”
In the end, that was all Yeoul could say.
Even if Geonwoo knew he was being used and was willingly going along with it, that didn’t make it right for her to take advantage of his feelings.
“I’m doing this because I want to.”
As if he could read her thoughts, Geonwoo’s voice lowered softly.
It sounded like he was trying to comfort her.
But his eyes, which briefly met hers, were firm.
“I really like you, Yeoul.”
“Son! Come eat breakfast!”
Songhwa called out in her sing-song voice.
“Son!”
When Seungtae didn’t appear, she raised her voice even louder.
“Ugh…”
At last, Seungtae dragged himself into the kitchen, yawning so wide it looked like his jaw might split. His hair was a tangled mess, his eyes barely open.
But when he saw his father, Kim Doohong, sitting at the head of the table, he stopped short.
“Good morning, Father.”
“How much did you drink last night? You still reek of alcohol.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He’s a working man, he’s allowed to drink once in a while. Don’t scold him first thing in the morning.”
At Songhwa’s words, Doohong said nothing more.
“Sit down, son. Have some bean sprout soup—it’ll help with your hangover before you go to work.”
Seungtae picked up his spoon and started eating quickly.
“So, what’s going on with that girl… Yeoul, was it? Or Yeowool?”
The moment his mother mentioned her name, Seungtae’s spoon froze midair.
His face twisted into a grimace.
“Ah, don’t even ask. I’m so pissed off I could die. She suddenly said she didn’t want to get married anymore. Because of that, everything’s a mess.”
“That girl—how rude. Canceling on the day of the family meeting? I didn’t like her from the start. Her family’s nothing special either. I only agreed to the marriage because you insisted, but look how she turned out.”
Sensing her chance, Songhwa poured out all her pent-up complaints.
“It’s for the best, honestly. A boy like you—girls from good families will line up to marry you. Forget that girl, son. Your mother will—”
“No.”
Seungtae cut her off sharply, his face stiff.
“What do you mean, ‘no’? Don’t tell me you still want to marry that disrespectful girl?”
“I don’t know. Whatever. I’m marrying Kang Yeoul no matter what, so don’t say another word about it.”
“How dare you talk to your mother like that! Where did you learn such disrespect?”
“…I’m sorry.”
He had spoken harshly to Songhwa, but when Doohong’s low, calm voice entered the conversation, Seungtae froze and bowed his head.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Songhwa said quickly. “Eat, dear. Ahjumma!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the housekeeper replied, hurrying over from the sink where she’d been washing fruit.
“Our son’s soup got cold. Bring him a fresh bowl.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the housekeeper bowed politely and left, silence filled the table.
“You’re not a child anymore. Stop being so emotional and explain logically what you’re going to do next.”
“Yes, Father.”
Straightening his posture, Seungtae set down his spoon and looked forward.
As he did, he cast a fleeting glare at his mother—one filled with resentment.
Startled, Songhwa quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.
Sometimes her son looked at her with resentment—or even disgust—but she always convinced herself it was just her imagination.
“No matter what, women get nervous before marriage. Just talk to her properly and make it work.”
“Understood.”
Doohong resumed eating, as if the conversation had been trivial.
Seungtae said nothing more, as though he were used to this sort of thing.
But inside, his thoughts were burning.
Kang Yeoul… I spoiled you too much. You’ve gotten bold enough to break off our engagement?
How should I crush you…?
Dozens of cruel, vicious ideas swirled through his mind.
Slowly, the corner of his mouth curled into a twisted smile.
[Personnel Announcement]
Before the official workday even began, Seodo Group’s headquarters was abuzz over a single internal email: a personnel announcement.
“Isn’t this basically succession?”
“Seems like it. But does a promotion to the Culture Business Department count as succession?”
“That’s what’s confusing me. He was promoted from assistant manager to department head in one leap—so it feels like succession—but why the Culture Department?”
“‘Culture Department’ sounds fancy, but all they really do is sponsor projects for PR. There’s no actual profit or measurable performance. The other executives got promoted after proven results, but Ha Deputy Manager—no, Ha Manager now—”
“They say he’s the smartest of the three sons, but he joined the Planning Department instead of Strategy. Everyone assumed that meant he was out of the succession race. He never got special treatment, barely even showed up to work sometimes, and no one cared. But now he’s suddenly promoted? That must mean he’s being considered for succession. Then again, looking at the department, maybe not. My head hurts.”
Groups gathered to whisper, while others exchanged frantic messages through the company chat:
[Is this a promotion or exile?]
[Title says promotion, but the department screams exile.]
[So should we get on his good side or not?]
[Does this kind of sudden promotion even make sense?]
[No warning at all. HR must be in chaos too.]
[Office politics are brutal.]
All the noise stemmed from one thing—Ha Geonwoo’s sudden promotion.
Corporate life was another kind of society, where office politics thrived despite everyone pretending they didn’t.
And at Seodo Group—ranked fifth among the nation’s conglomerates—the internal politics were particularly fierce.
The successor had not yet been decided, and rather than the eldest son automatically inheriting the position, the next head would be chosen strictly based on merit and business performance.
Ha Myungwoo and Ha Jongwoo, the vice president and executive director, were already locked in an escalating power struggle.
Then, out of nowhere, the youngest son—previously thought irrelevant to the competition—was suddenly appointed department head.
The question was: did this mean he was joining the succession race… or being quietly removed from it?
“A wind of innovation—or the calm before a storm?”
For the employees of the Culture Business Department, who might soon find themselves in the middle of a battlefield—or a graveyard—the announcement brought nothing but confusion and anxiety.
At that moment, the door to the department office opened.
Everyone turned instinctively toward the sound.
“Nice to meet you all. I’m Ha Geonwoo, your new department head.”
