Seung Jae watched Yi Kyung standing at an angle, one finger raised toward his own chest. They were too far apart for him to hear clearly, but Yi Kyung appeared to be asking, “Me?”
Butler Do stepped forward, but Yi Kyung spoke before he could.
“Over there.”
Yi Kyung pointed vaguely into the air.
“Would you like it hung in your room, then?”
Butler Do looked upstairs as though he understood.
“Yes.”
Yi Kyung nodded readily with a bright smile, but the instant he turned away, his expression stiffened. The change was so abrupt that his smile moments ago seemed like a lie.
When Seung Jae resumed walking, he heard a short breath released behind him. It was so faint that it could easily have been buried beneath the sound of everyone’s footsteps.
Seung Jae’s brow furrowed.
It was getting on his nerves to an infuriating degree.
“Please sit here.”
Butler Do pulled out a chair. The ceramic dining table was laden with food. Once Yi Kyung sat down, more dishes were added at Butler Do’s direction.
Before long, Butler Do spotted someone and walked over. It was Seung Jae. He moved to the seat opposite Yi Kyung and pulled out the chair for him.
Having apparently showered, Seung Jae was dressed casually with his shirtsleeves rolled up. A trace of moisture still clung to his black hair.
Yi Kyung had been savoring the plain white porridge Butler Do served him when he stole a sideways glance. Seung Jae drained the entire glass of water before him.
“That’s enough. Leave us.”
Standing beside Yi Kyung to assist him, Butler Do remained where he was and merely shifted his eyes.
Seung Jae set down his empty glass with a sharp tap.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
His voice was so cold that it hardly seemed to have come from him. Throughout their marriage and honeymoon in Switzerland, Seung Jae had maintained an indifferent demeanor. His voice rarely rose or fell enough to betray any emotion.
Sensing the sudden change in his disposition, Butler Do looked down at Yi Kyung. Then he carefully set aside the plate in his hands and withdrew.
Butler Do had to force himself to keep from looking back. He could not help worrying about how Young Master Yi Kyung, whom he had watched since childhood, would manage alone.
His opponent was far too formidable.
After all, this was Han Seung Jae—the man destined to lead Myungjun Group.
Myungjun Group owned banks, securities firms, and various other financial companies. Seung Jae was currently only one director among several, but rumors were already circulating openly that an extraordinary degree of authority had been concentrated in his hands.
Under the banner of providing financial solutions, Seung Jae shaped markets and invested in both the national government and local authorities.
Butler Do discreetly glanced back. Young Master Yi Kyung sat with his head bowed, looking pitiful. Concern settled over Butler Do’s face.
—Go there and live as though you’re dead.
Yi Kyung’s father had summoned him before the wedding and delivered those words as though bestowing a blessing.
Butler Do could still picture Yi Kyung’s face as he listened without questioning him. Outwardly, he had tried to appear mature and composed. Yet Butler Do had glimpsed a faint loneliness in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Yi Kyung sat with his head slightly lowered across the long table. He raised his eyes and spoke with a somewhat hesitant expression.
“I don’t like you, Seung Jae, so you don’t need to concern yourself with me.”
In the original novel, Seung Jae had at least behaved courteously around Seo Yi Kyung and spoken to him politely. That remained true even though he never hesitated to act with near-total arrogance outside the home. Perhaps that was why Seo Yi Kyung had never understood what kind of man Seung Jae truly was and had devoted himself wholeheartedly to making their marriage work.
Moreover, if this was still the beginning of the story, it seemed best to make his position clear.
Someone else would eventually enter Seung Jae’s life anyway. Yi Kyung wanted him to understand that he would not care in the slightest when it happened. There was no need for Seung Jae to pay him any attention or worry about him.
“...”
Or had Yi Kyung imagined Seung Jae’s eyebrows twitching upward?
Seung Jae seemed about to say something, but instead swept back his hair. The motion was slow, as though he were actively exercising patience.
He then refilled his empty glass. The green lime floating among the ice tilted with the long glass pitcher.
Yet Seung Jae’s gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He relentlessly watched Yi Kyung flinch every time their eyes met. Yi Kyung eventually looked away. Knowing exactly what kind of man Seung Jae was, he belatedly began to feel uneasy.
Seung Jae observed him, then spoke.
“Seo Yi Kyung.”
Yi Kyung’s chin jerked to a halt. Did his own name sound unfamiliar because the person saying it had spoken with such a cutting edge?
When he cautiously turned his head, he saw water overflowing from the glass beneath Seung Jae’s hand and spilling across the table.
After their wedding, Seung Jae had remained busy with work even during their honeymoon, leaving him little time to spend with Seo Yi Kyung. They had done little more than share the occasional meal. Once they returned, Seo Yi Kyung had suddenly fallen ill and taken to his bed.
Apparently, the rumors about his frail health had not been entirely unfounded. Seung Jae had often been informed that Yi Kyung spent most of his time painting at home and seldom went out except to attend art exhibitions.
That was why Seung Jae had been considerate in his own way.
He stared at Yi Kyung’s hand resting on the table. Unlike his own, it was unblemished. A hand that painted and handled pigments. Having never known hardship, it looked pale and soft.
“I suppose growing up hearing only pleasant words and seeing only pleasant things has left you unable to understand the situation.”
Yi Kyung swallowed slowly. Warning sirens blared repeatedly inside his head.
Seung Jae lifted his gaze from Yi Kyung’s hand and met his eyes with a frigid stare.
“This is the end of my consideration for you.”
He placed the now-empty pitcher on the table. The remaining ice rattled inside the glass.
Butler Do hurried forward. Seung Jae swept past him, radiating cold. Butler Do watched his retreating back before hastening toward the dining table.
Water had soaked the neatly arranged table, spilled over the edge, and pooled across the floor. Butler Do stared at it in alarm, then asked as though the realization had only just struck him.
“Did you have an argument?”
Yi Kyung, who had remained seated and stared straight ahead, raised his head.
“Ah.”
Just as he began to speak, Butler Do seized his arm and pulled him to his feet. Yi Kyung’s slender body offered scarcely any resistance as he was dragged upright.
Butler Do called for the housekeepers. Two of them approached and began cleaning the table and marble floor.
Yi Kyung’s legs struggled to keep pace as he followed Butler Do, who strode ahead through the commotion.
“Wait...!”
His brief protest was swiftly drowned out by the noise.
Seung Jae reappeared, now dressed in a suit, and Secretary Park emerged from the drawing room where he had been waiting. After Secretary Park bowed twice in quick succession, Seung Jae stopped and looked back.
Yi Kyung stood there in his pajamas.
Butler Do still held his arm and whispered something into his ear. Yi Kyung looked at him, then faced forward and met Seung Jae’s eyes. His scabbed lower lip parted haltingly.
“Have a good day.”
Seung Jae’s eyes narrowed. He studied Butler Do’s hand around Yi Kyung’s arm, then turned away.
Anyone could see that Yi Kyung had been made to say it.
Yi Kyung exhaled deeply. Once Seung Jae disappeared from sight, the oppressive sensation weighing on him began to fade.
“Why did you say that?”
Butler Do was still staring after Seung Jae. He had clearly instructed Yi Kyung to say, “I was wrong this morning. Have a good day.”
Yet Yi Kyung had omitted the apology and delivered only the final sentence.
Yi Kyung looked down at the wrist trapped in Butler Do’s grasp. The slender limb moved helplessly wherever the man’s hand pulled it.
“Butler Do?”
Something about the way Yi Kyung had addressed him since earlier sounded subtly different. Butler Do, however, could not identify precisely what had changed.
Yi Kyung lightly tapped the back of his hand.
“Please let go.”
Butler Do released him. Yi Kyung rubbed his wrist. A red mark had appeared against the pallid skin.
He raised his head and asked Butler Do in return.
“What did I do wrong?”
“...Pardon?”
Butler Do belatedly opened his mouth, but only a breathless sound emerged. He looked somewhat stunned and could not answer.
He knew that Yi Kyung was unlikely to have done anything wrong. Yi Kyung was not the sort of person who caused trouble for others. If anything, his inability to refuse people and his excessive willingness to obey were the problem.
Until now, whenever the gentle, affectionate, and fragile young master appeared troubled, Butler Do had simply stepped forward and resolved everything for him. What had happened that morning was merely another example of the same pattern.
He wanted to keep Yi Kyung from falling out of Seung Jae’s favor—and spare him from hearing more cruel words from his father.
Butler Do had merely tried to settle the situation quickly according to his own judgment, as he always had.
Without giving the slightest thought to what Yi Kyung wanted.
He isn’t answering?
Yi Kyung looked at him in puzzlement, then resumed walking. He headed in the opposite direction from the one Seung Jae had taken.
The Seo Yi Kyung who had loved Han Seung Jae no longer existed here. He had merely stated that fact.
How could that be considered wrong?
In the swiftly moving car, Seung Jae scrolled through his tablet at regular intervals, his eyes filled with severity. Although they followed the astronomical figures listed in the investment proposal, he could not seem to concentrate.
Seated in the back, Seung Jae raised his head when the sedan stopped at an intersection for a red light. His gaze landed on a massive electronic billboard displaying an advertisement for an exhibition at an art museum.
Secretary Park, seated in the front passenger seat, looked at the same display.
“Would you like me to adjust your schedule?”
Seung Jae’s calendar had been planned years in advance and left little room to spare. On top of that, work had accumulated during his wedding and honeymoon. Nevertheless, Secretary Park had interpreted the intent behind his gaze and asked. If the exhibition opened in a week, it might still be possible to rearrange his schedule.
The car began moving, and the exhibition advertisement filling the immense billboard changed.
“...”
No answer came, no matter how long Secretary Park waited. He naturally turned his attention forward. Sensing the peculiar atmosphere inside the car, he chose to remain silent.
In truth, Seung Jae had always been far removed from the world of art. He knew nothing about paintings—or, more accurately, had no interest in them.
His world consisted of money and people bound together through business. Among them, the words he heard most often followed a predictable pattern.
—Please help me.
—Please! Just trust me this once.
—Director Han, please save me!
Seung Jae looked down at his tablet and spoke in a low voice.
“He’s different from what I heard.”