Three days ago.
“Pregnant… right?”
I went to the OB-GYN with Yoo Sia. Even though the home test showed two lines, we needed a professional confirmation.
The doctor smiled brightly. “Yes, congratulations. You are indeed pregnant.”
Sia’s eyes widened in overwhelming emotion as she looked at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, doctor.”
“Oh, the thanks should go to the expectant mother, I think!”
“Haha—thank you, Sia.”
She smiled at me and replied, “Congratulations, oppa.”
I asked the doctor cautiously, “How many weeks along am I?”
“About five and a half weeks. You’ll reach six weeks soon.”
“Ah…”
Six weeks. Exactly the right timing. The very night Sia and I spent together. Only once—but enough to conceive.
“Wait a moment?”
The doctor studying the ultrasound paused, her voice tinged with puzzlement. “Uh…”
A wave of anxiety washed over me. “Why… what is it?”
If it were an ectopic pregnancy or a fetal abnormality, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what we’d do.
“Uh… oh, yes…”
The doctor let out a low exclamation.
“Why… why is that?”
My body trembled without my realizing. “Is there something wrong?”
She pointed at the screen. “Look here for a moment.”
I swallowed hard and followed her finger. “You remember showing us the gestational sac earlier, right?”
“Yes, yes.”
“But this…”
She smoothed the gel and moved the probe slightly.
“Do you see this here, too?”
“Huh…?”
The same structure appeared again. As the probe slid from left to right, there it was—a second gestational sac.
‘Two sacs…?’
The doctor confirmed it. “Congratulations: twins!”
“…!”
Twins. Actual twins.
“T-Two of them?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The doctor nodded with delight and pointed to the screen. “One here, and another over here.” The sacs were unmistakably two.
‘One would have been enough—two is incredible!’
But unlike me, Sia’s face clouded with worry.
“Is two okay?” she asked anxiously. “I’ve heard twin pregnancies can be risky…”
“Hmm…”
The doctor answered seriously. “When pregnancies occur via IVF, or if the mother is older, we sometimes recommend fetal reduction.”
Fetal reduction, or selective reduction, is a procedure to reduce multiple embryos to one to improve both maternal health and the surviving fetus’s chances.
“But you’re only twenty-four, right?”
“Oh, yes.”
“In cases this young and healthy, the odds of a healthy twin birth are much higher.”
“Then…!”
“Yes. I believe you can carry and deliver both babies safely.”
“…!”
I covered my mouth in shock. Twins—both could be carried to term!
“Oh, one more thing, doctor.”
Sia asked, hopeful: “Can we tell the gender yet?”
“Sia, whether boy or girl, I don’t mind.”
“It matters to me.”
Given her family’s background, she said, gender clearly mattered.
The doctor frowned apologetically. “It’s still too early to determine gender.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Yes. You need genital development visible on ultrasound. For boys, sometimes you can see it at twelve weeks, but it’s not guaranteed.”
“When can we know for sure?”
“At around fifteen weeks, it becomes more reliable.”
We had a little over two months to wait.
Sia couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. “I hope they’re boys…”
“Boys?”
“Yes. I want a son who looks like you, Assistant Manager.”
“I’d love a daughter.”
“Why?”
“If she looks like you, Sia, I might just die of happiness.”
“Then one of each would be nice.”
“That would be lovely.”
Even imagining cradling a boy in one arm and a girl in the other made me smile.
The doctor beamed. “Oh, I forgot to mention: if two fetuses share one sac, they’re identical. Two separate sacs means fraternal twins.”
“So ours are…”
“Fraternal.”
They might both be boys, or both girls, or one of each.
“For now, we’ll have you come in weekly for checkups, even if it’s not my hospital…”
Back on the Naegok-dong terrace, Chairman Yoo’s fierce gaze burned into me.
“T–twins, sir.”
I steadied myself. “There are two gestational sacs.”
In an instant, his eyelids trembled. “Twins…?”
“Yes.”
I pulled two ultrasound photos from my pocket. “Would you like to see?”
Snap!
He snatched them as if they were evidence and held one in each hand, scrutinizing them back and forth.
“Two?”
“Yes. I even went to three different clinics to be sure.”
All the doctors agreed: fraternal twins. Undeniable.
“…Huh.”
He let out a low sigh.
The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly—but did not fully lift. Yet the murderous tension that had filled the terrace just moments ago was gone. Of course: two great-grandchildren, and from his most precious granddaughter, no less.
Even more poignant: Yoo Jin-gap himself had been a twin.
I’d read it in his memoir shortly after joining the company. He had a twin brother too. And, through Sia, I learned there had been no twins among his children or grandchildren—only Sia’s pregnancy would break that streak.
Chairman Yoo continued examining the photos and then fixed me with a look.
“How many weeks now?”
“Six weeks, sir.”
I had to plead my case. “Their little hearts have just formed and are already beating…”
“You heard the heartbeat?”
“Huh?”
“Did it sound like horses’ hooves? Or a train?”
“…I’m not sure.”
“Think carefully.”
I really didn’t know.
“There are two hearts beating together, so it’s hard to tell—”
“Hm.”
He nodded as if he understood. “With two, it can be hard to distinguish.”
He still held the photos.
“What will you do with these?”
“Ahem—these I’ll keep.”
“Huh?”
“If they got out, it’d be a problem.”
He slid them into his pocket. “These are our bloodline. Potential successors, after all.”
“Oh, of course.”
Ultrasound images could be reprinted at any clinic.
Chairman Yoo spoke again. “But that doesn’t mean I approve.”
“I understand, sir.”
Yet his expression had clearly softened. Though his words remained stern:
“We will raise these children well.”
“…Yes?”
One hour. A full hour passed since Chairman Yoo and I went onto the terrace.
Not a whisper drifted inside.
It felt far too long to wait. I wondered: should I go check on them?
Just then… creak.
The terrace door swung open.
But it wasn’t Chairman Yoo or me who emerged—it was Butler Kim.
Given the mansion’s labyrinthine layout, it wasn’t impossible, but…
‘If he’s coming out, the two of them aren’t on the terrace…?’
And there was something else.
A baseball bat?
The box Butler Kim carried contained a bat and other baseball gear.
“Is everything all right in there?” he asked over his shoulder.
“…I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
From Sia’s perspective, that was even more terrifying.
“And if it is serious?”
“…I can’t guarantee anything,” he admitted, then disappeared again.
Another hour passed. Sia paced, her worries multiplying.
‘I heard Grandpa once disciplined my uncles with a bat…’
Legend had it that each Lunar New Year, her cousins returned home bruised, unable to sit for days.
Was he doing the same to Son Jin-seong? The thought nearly brought her to tears.
‘I can’t let it happen.’
If anything happened to Jin-seong, she vowed she’d throw her body between them—surely her grandfather wouldn’t hurt his pregnant granddaughter.
Determined, she headed for the terrace to intervene. Just then… creak.
The door opened, and Chairman Yoo stepped out, sweat-soaked.
‘…Huh?’
How many swats had he rained down…?
She rushed forward, but then… thud, thud.
Assistant Manager Son Jin-seong followed, also sweating—but not beaten. In fact, he looked oddly refreshed.
Sia froze in confusion.
‘…What on earth happened?’