CHAPTER 16…………………………
Monday morning, Seoga Food Headquarters, 7th floor — Executive Director’s Office
Hana stood at her desk, a cup of coffee in hand, sorting through the stack of documents piled neatly before her. Her entire body felt stiff and sore—last night had been chaos, tangled up with Gunwoo for the first time in a while, and she hadn’t managed to clear her head until dawn.
She rolled her neck slightly and reviewed the day’s schedule in her mind.
10 a.m. — Marketing team meeting.
2 p.m. — Review of the new product proposal.
4 p.m. — Weekly report.
A day packed without a single gap.
Knock, knock, knock—
Hana looked up at the sound. The door opened, and Miju cautiously peeked inside.
“Executive Director, Managing Director Yoo Chaeyeon, who was just appointed, is here to greet you.”
At the sound of the name, Hana’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second. It wasn’t unfamiliar.
“Please have her come in.”
The door opened fully, and Chaeyeon stepped inside, dressed in a beige jacket.
For a first day, her expression was surprisingly relaxed. A faint smile played on her lips, yet there was something subtly cold about her presence.
Chaeyeon took a moment to look around the office. Neither large nor small—there was a modest potted plant by the window, neatly arranged management books on the shelf,
and perfectly organized documents on the desk.
“Simpler than I expected.”
The corner of Chaeyeon’s mouth lifted slightly. It was impossible to tell whether it was a compliment or a jab.
“Ah… is that so?”
Hana replied with an awkward smile.
“Yeah. You keep things really neat. I’m terrible at organizing.”
Without asking permission, Chaeyeon sat down in the chair across from Hana. The movement was so natural that it almost didn’t feel rude.
Hana hesitated briefly, then took her own seat.
“Congratulations on your first day.”
“Speak casually.”
Chaeyeon responded lightly.
“We’re the same age. And you outrank me, too.”
“Okay… got it.”
“Oh, right. You heard from the Chairman about the handover, didn’t you?”
Chaeyeon continued, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“He said I’d be taking over Strategic Planning.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Then I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot. Our offices are on the same floor.”
“Looks like it.”
After the short exchange, an awkward silence settled in. Hana twirled her pen absently and shifted her gaze to the documents on her desk.
She could feel Chaeyeon’s eyes on her—lingering, oddly deliberate.
“You know.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s be honest with each other.”
Chaeyeon leaned forward slightly.
“There’s no point pretending, is there?”
There was a strange tension in her voice. Hana took a quiet breath and looked at her.
“I know why my mom is next to Chairman Seo. It’s for money. Love? Nothing like that. She just wants an easy life. And I don’t think that’s wrong. Everyone wants something, and they make deals to get it.”
Hana bit her lip hard. Every word felt like it was digging into her bones.
“I… that kind of thing isn’t—”
“You’re the same.”
Chaeyeon cut her off. Her gaze sharpened, and a chill clung to the end of her words.
“You were adopted, did everything the Chairman told you to do, worked exactly the way he wanted—and that’s how you ended up here, right? Oh, and you had a strategic marriage too, didn’t you? Jung Gunwoo from Ilju Group. That famous silver-spoon heir.”
Hana sucked in a short breath. At the sound of Gunwoo’s name, her heart flinched.
But another face surfaced first.
Gihun.
His voice. His hands. Even the smell of the air in the moment those hands were raised.
“Don’t talk back.”
“If you’re a daughter of this house, act like one.”
Those words rang in her ears. The memories of violence that had followed her since childhood still lived somewhere in her body.
Every time Gihun raised his hand, Hana couldn’t even breathe. It wasn’t divorce from Gunwoo that terrified her—it was the fear that those hands might rise again.
Her fingers trembled as the memory brushed past.
Chaeyeon, oblivious, continued.
“We’re similar. Neither of us is a real daughter. Either of us could be thrown away at any time. The only difference is—”
Chaeyeon’s lips curved slowly upward.
“I accept that. But you? Do you?”
“…That’s not true.”
Hana managed to speak, though her voice wavered.
“Oh, come on.”
Chaeyeon scoffed, shaking her head.
“You know how Chairman Seo sees you. Not as a person—just a tool. A link to Ilju Group. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Stop it.”
There was strength in Hana’s voice now, even as her hands continued to shake.
“Why? It’s the truth. If things go wrong with Ilju Group, do you really think the Chairman would keep you by his side then?”
“……”
“He wouldn’t. Of course not. That’s our reality.”
The moment the words fell, the air in the office seemed to freeze. Hana lowered her gaze. Something heavy surged up inside her chest.
Gihun’s image overlapped again in her mind.
The bulging veins on the back of his hand. The way she used to clench her teeth as a child, refusing to make a sound even while being hit.
That memory was carved into her bones.
Her marriage to Gunwoo had been a calculated choice—but the real terror still lived in that house.
Gihun was someone who could shatter her all over again, at any time.
Chaeyeon stood up, placing her hands on the desk as she looked down at Hana.
“But you know what? I don’t hate it. It’s actually comfortable. When you expect nothing, there’s no emotional cost. I just do what I have to do, take what’s mine, and live like that.”
“……”
“So let’s get along. Keep a reasonable distance. We’re on the same boat anyway.”
Chaeyeon walked slowly toward the door. Each click of her heels seemed to drain the warmth from the room.
At the doorway, her hand resting on the handle, she paused.
She didn’t turn around. Her calm voice cut through the space instead.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Hana lifted her head.
“I’m not interested in Chairman Seo’s fortune. Or power, for that matter. It’s not that I don’t have ambition—I just don’t see the point in stealing what I don’t need. Whatever my mom takes, that’s her problem.”
Chaeyeon exhaled softly, as if choosing her words.
“So you don’t need to be wary of me.”
A quiet silence followed. Then Chaeyeon added with a small laugh,
“Though honestly, I don’t think you’re really in a position to be wary of anyone.”
She left without looking back. When the door closed, the silence dropped heavily into the room.
Hana remained seated, unable to say a word. The sound of a pen rolling across the desk and coming to a stop felt unnaturally loud.
In the quiet hallway, the rhythmic click of high heels echoed. The conversation replayed itself in Chaeyeon’s mind.
Was that… too much?
She stopped walking for a moment, lightly biting her lip as if indifferent—then shook her head.
“Well, it’s not like I said anything untrue.”
From what she’d heard from her mother, Hana was practically Gihun’s servant.
Too gentle. Too cautious. Naive about the world. Whether that was because she was kind—or because she’d been trained that way for too long—Chaeyeon didn’t know.
It was just frustrating to watch.
“I was just telling her to wake up, that’s all.”
She muttered once more, then casually pulled out her phone and turned on the screen.
A single new message was waiting.
[Don’t make mistakes. Do well. It’s a good chance to catch the Chairman’s eye.] — Mom
Chaeyeon stared at Aera’s message for a moment, then let out a slow sigh. Without replying, she turned off the screen.
