Chapter 4
“Let’s do it. The interview.”
Their eyes met head-on.
Unlike his cool voice, Sa-hyuk’s gaze, fixed entirely on Seobin, did not waver.
That steady look unsettled her breathing, and she quickly lowered her eyes.
“Get close to Kim Sa-hyuk. Closely.”
She recalled the advice that had brought her here.
Right. Maybe she could use Kim Sa-hyuk to get a clue.
If she used their brief, once-tender memories as an excuse to create an opening, slipped into that space, and shook him enough… maybe she could learn even the smallest thing about her sister’s death.
Maybe this was why she became a reporter in the first place.
Seobin steadied herself and accepted his terms. She forced a polite smile and picked up her notebook and pen.
“Alright.”
While she organized her prepared questions, Sa-hyuk watched her profile and took a slow sip of whiskey.
Unhurried. Relaxed.
It felt as if time flowed differently around him.
Seobin exhaled softly and began.
“The article will run as a series until the economic forum in December. Since this is the first interview, I’ll only ask basic questions about the group’s introduction and management direction—”
Sa-hyuk set down his glass and raised his hand.
“Get to the point.”
Startled, Seobin looked at him. He tapped his wristwatch lightly.
“Ah. Yes.”
Realizing what he meant, she quickly adjusted her tone.
“Please give us an overall introduction to Noble Group.”
“It’s a good company. As you know.”
He spread his arms slightly, as if gesturing to the luxury suite around them.
As expected, he wasn’t cooperative. But she hadn’t expected him to be.
She moved on.
“At the end of last year, you joined the group’s holding company, and several changes followed. Could you speak about the current situation and future direction?”
“The current situation? Not bad. The future? Better.”
His face remained calm as he gave another half-hearted answer.
Seobin’s cheeks began to flush.
“You’ll also be speaking at the upcoming Sanghyeon Economic Forum. What message do you plan to deliver?”
“Well. We can discuss that together going forward, Reporter Bae.”
She ignored the tone and read the next question mechanically.
“Since your appointment, you’ve worked on improving the group’s image through sports teams and social contribution activities. You’ve also been attending corporate events and networking parties actively. Is there a reason you’re focusing on external activities?”
“Well. That’s confidential. But if you have time, we can go to a party together soon.”
His expression was serious, but his answer was light.
Seobin bit her lip and looked at him with barely concealed frustration.
Sa-hyuk simply shrugged, as if asking what the problem was.
“…Next question. I understand you’re also working on internal cultural innovation within the group. Is there anything you particularly value?”
Sa-hyuk lifted his whiskey again and took a slow sip.
Unlike before, he paused before answering.
“Keeping promises.”
Their eyes met again.
Outside, the long summer sun was about to set.
With the window behind him, shadows fell across his face, making his features sharper in the contrast of light and dark.
Seobin looked at him.
Her first love.
A suspect in her sister’s death.
In the fading line between day and night.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
If that day had never happened, what would we be like now? Would we be different? Or exactly the same?
Pointless thoughts drifted through her mind.
After a long silence, Sa-hyuk spoke first.
“Are you done? Then my turn.”
What was he going to say? Was he about to change his mind and assign another reporter?
That couldn’t happen. She hadn’t learned anything about that day yet. She had only just begun.
As her anxiety grew, Sa-hyuk leaned toward her.
“Let’s work together on something.”
“On what…?”
She trailed off. The words were unexpected.
“We need to dig into the Sarim Foundation.”
Her mind went blank.
Why now? Why at this moment?
There were too many questions. She didn’t know which to ask first.
As if he could read her thoughts, he said,
“Why? You still don’t trust me?”
He had never been someone who spoke indirectly. Not at nineteen, either.
“…I was curious about you, Bae Seobin. I wanted to know you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
For a moment, she saw the boy from eight years ago in him.
You’re the same. Then and now.
That unchanging part of him made her chest ache.
She hid it and asked calmly,
“Why me? There are plenty of reporters. It doesn’t even have to be a reporter. You probably know more about Sarim’s corruption than I do.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
A breath escaped her lips.
She, of all people, was the one who distrusted him most.
“You trust me?”
I’m the one who could stab you in the back at any time.
Her tone was deliberately sharp.
Without hesitation, he replied,
“I’m going to try.”
“And if I betray you?”
“Then I’ll deal with it.”
His calm attitude felt more insulting.
He seemed to enjoy her sharp stare and let out a faint laugh.
“Let’s just call it old feelings.”
For a split second, something lonely flickered across his face. It was so brief she might have imagined it.
She was still confused. Why was he trying to dig into Sarim? It could reopen the past.
The very thing she wanted to uncover.
“Why Sarim Foundation? There’s nothing to gain. Not for business.”
“Yoo Inha.”
At that name, her gaze wavered.
Yoo Inha was the grandson of the Sarim Foundation chairman who had labeled her sister’s death an accident.
He had once been close to her sister.
After her sister died, he denied it.
“Me and Bae Seohyun? …No. Your sister liked Kim Sa-hyuk.”
She had known it was a lie.
But his next words had planted a seed of doubt that haunted her.
“Why do you think Kim Sa-hyuk suddenly quit swimming and went to the U.S.? Maybe he ran because he had something to hide.”
That suspicion had grown inside her for years.
And now, eight years later, Sa-hyuk was bringing up Yoo Inha himself.
He lifted his nearly empty glass and took a final sip. A faint curve formed on his lips.
“I owe that bastard something.”
Her heart dropped.
Two of the four suspects from back then.
Kim Sa-hyuk.
Yoo Inha.
There was a crack between Noble Group and Sarim Foundation.
And that crack felt like hope.
Her heart began to race.
“I think we’d make good partners. You have your own grievances with Sarim, don’t you?”
It felt like he had struck the center of her chest.
He was the type who always seemed to give ground, yet somehow maintained dominance.
He had been born that way. And his power would not fade.
So how could she fight someone like him?
There was only one way.
Exploit the cracks between them.
Until they destroyed themselves.
“What do I need to do?”
Her eyes were tense as she looked at him.
Still calm, he answered,
“Every night. Ten o’clock. Come here.”
