Chapter 07
Yoon Seong-hoon was the one clinging unilaterally. His womanizing was well-known not only within Cheonmyeong but also among most prominent families.
“Unexpected.”
What was?
The fact that his brother had really intended to bring Kang Dasom to their father’s birthday?
Or that Dasom, angry at him for cheating despite the promise he had made with her, had refused to come?
Did she really believe Seong-hoon wouldn’t be with other women? Was Dasom really that naïve when he saw her that day?
“Phew, Dasom-ah. I won’t ever do it again, okay? Where are you now? I’ll never contact Director Min again, I swear. Hey! I already told Mom and Dad that I’d bring you. What happens to my reputation now?”
Seong-hoon coaxed, cajoled, and even scolded over the phone.
Yoon Jin-woo ignored him and went into his room.
When you think about it, it was nothing more than a verbal promise. Why had he bothered to come all the way here over something so trivial?
He had refused the wrap-up party with the filming crew, and now regretted it—better to have gone there.
He didn’t particularly like company dinners either, but surely they would have been better than this.
The room, with no trace of daily life, looked more like a model home.
Since he had last seen it, all the furniture and wallpaper had been replaced.
His mother had a hobby of furniture shopping and was in the habit of redecorating the house every summer and winter. His room, even though he rarely stayed there, was no exception.
While trying to rest in that unfamiliar space, the housekeeper knocked on his door.
“Young master, madam asks that you come downstairs.”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
Jin-woo, who had been lying like a log, got off the bed and left his room. The dining room had a full course meal set at every seat.
The tables were arranged in a U-shape. At the head sat Chairman Yoon, then Vice-Chairman Yoon Jun-seok and his wife Jang Ju-bin.
On the right side sat the eldest son Yoon Ji-hwan and Lee Soo-ha, the second daughter of Seo-young Bank’s chairman, with Seong-hoon seated next to them.
The seat beside Seong-hoon was empty.
“Hey, move over.”
Seong-hoon threw him a look. Jin-woo ignored it and sat one seat away. On the left side of the table sat Cheonmyeong Group executives gathered to congratulate the chairman.
Watching these old men trying to curry favor with someone practically waiting for death was pathetic.
And yet, within the company, attending this dinner was considered an honor.
“I hate this.”
This was why he hadn’t wanted to come. The three sons sat in front, followed by relatives in order.
Those pushed out of succession were desperate to look good however they could.
What kind of medieval spectacle was this in the 21st century? Perhaps it was this stifling atmosphere that filled Jin-woo with such disgust.
“Let us all sincerely congratulate Chairman Yoon on his birthday!”
“Haha, you all go through such trouble every year. I said we should keep it simple this time, but no one listens.”
“Oh, what are you saying? This is nothing at all. Now, sir, please say a few words for Cheonmyeong again this year.”
Park Nam-gil, chairman of Cheonmyeong Trading and husband of Yoon Ye-hee (the chairman’s younger sister), flattered eagerly.
The microphone was passed to Chairman Yoon, who gave a customary speech.
Then, as usual, the mic was passed down to the grandsons. The eldest, Ji-hwan, recited familiar but empty words.
“Good, just keep doing as you are. Then all will be well. And you, daughter-in-law, don’t cause trouble either. If you behave, I’ll give you a title and let you live comfortably.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
Lee Soo-ha bowed politely.
Originally, the two should have married last year. But when a former NIS agent exposed political scandals during the last administration—leading to talk of declaring a state of emergency and suppressing civilians—the country had been in chaos for nearly two years.
Watching two presidents toppled one after another, even Chairman Yoon, who fancied himself a king, couldn’t ignore the public mood.
The new government strictly warned top chaebol families to avoid any actions that could spark public outrage.
The chairman’s ambition to hold a lavish wedding for his eldest son collapsed in an instant, and the marriage was postponed.
The microphone passed on. Seong-hoon parroted Ji-hwan’s words almost verbatim.
“You should be thankful Ji-hwan isn’t married yet. You go bragging everywhere about bringing a woman here, only to get stood up? Tsk, pathetic.”
“Grandfather, it’s not like that… She said she was stuck in traffic. She’ll be here soon.”
“What’s so great about making elders wait? She should have come early.”
Jang Ju-bin, dressed to the nines, shook her head. Seong-hoon flushed red and fell silent. Seeing the awkwardness, Park Nam-gil handed the mic to Jin-woo.
“Happy birthday, sir.”
“That’s all?”
“If you wanted more, you shouldn’t have disrupted my filming schedule.”
“What are you lacking that you go parading your face on screen?”
Jin-woo kept his mouth shut. Saying anything would only start a fight, and he knew shouting wouldn’t solve anything.
The mic moved on to the cousins. Formalities dragged on, unchanged from the birthdays of his childhood.
Finally, the tedious event ended. Food was served, and gifts piled up to flatter the chairman. Later, groups scattered throughout the mansion to chat.
“Damn it, I can’t take this.”
Dasom never showed up. Seong-hoon, cigarette in his mouth, went out to the terrace. He was on a call with someone.
Bzzz.
A phone buzzed on the table.
“Oh my, this looks like young master’s.”
One of the longtime maids picked it up. Jin-woo stepped in front of her casually.
“I’ll give it to him.”
“The youngest master?”
“Yes. He seems to be on another call. I’ll pass it along.”
When Jin-woo held out his hand, she gave him Seong-hoon’s phone. Once she turned away, he lowered his eyes to the screen.
[My Dasom]
The name caught his eye—and beneath it, the number displayed. Holding the phone, Jin-woo walked toward the terrace.
Clatter—
The terrace door opened slightly, Seong-hoon’s face peeking out, cigarette between his lips.
“What, why are you standing there like a dog that needs to shit? Come out if you’re coming. What?”
“You got a call.”
“Ah, damn. Again already? Hey, sorry babe, I’ll call you later.”
From the phone came a woman’s voice. It was absurd: a man who’d claimed he’d only slipped once, tricked by a woman, was now chatting with yet another woman on a different phone.
Jin-woo wasn’t interested in the company’s management, but he knew one thing—his younger brother could never beat the eldest. And for the sake of the hundreds of thousands of employees, this bastard should never be allowed to run the company.
He was his brother, yes, but at times Jin-woo found it disgusting that they shared the same blood. Handing over the phone, Jin-woo turned toward the stairs to head back to his room.
Behind him, Seong-hoon called out.
“Hey.”
“……”
“Do you also think I’m pathetic?”
Halfway up the stairs, Jin-woo looked down at him. Only then did he notice Seong-hoon had been drinking.
“I’ve never thought that.”
“Bullshit. Your face says ‘pathetic bastard’ all over it.”
“Don’t be so paranoid.”
“Damn it, you—don’t you dare get involved in management, got it? Just wait. Dasom, she’s the daughter of UL Cables’ chairman. Once I secure that capital, the world will be mine.”
“President Park, I think my brother’s drunk. Please take care of him.”
Jin-woo entrusted Seong-hoon to Park Nam-gil, who was passing by, then returned to his room.
Sitting on his bed, he idly fiddled with his phone.
