Misfortune struck without warning.
Until that morning, everything had been perfectly ordinary. Ian finished another moderately busy, moderately hectic day at the office and left work on time, just as he always did. On the way home, he made sure to call Yudam.
[I wanted to see you.]
Yudam muttered the words in a sulky voice.
“You’re still not feeling well. As soon as you’re better, I’ll come see you right away. Just hold out until then.”
Ian coaxed him gently. Yudam still sounded dissatisfied, but eventually agreed.
He was already twenty-seven, yet there were still moments when he acted like a child. Ian found even that adorable. Perhaps it was because the image of Yudam as a boy remained so deeply etched in his memory.
“I’m almost home. I’ll eat, shower, and call you again. You make sure you eat something too. Don’t skip dinner.”
Yudam had a habit of losing his appetite during his heat cycle and going without food, so Ian made a point of reminding him.
Yudam gave a halfhearted reply that he could take care of himself, prompting Ian to tell him to send a picture of whatever he ate. Yudam complained that Ian was being too controlling, but he didn’t refuse.
The moment Ian opened the front door, the smell of food greeted him.
“I’m home.”
“Welcome back.”
He couldn’t see anyone, but his mother’s voice came from the kitchen.
When Ian went to check, he found her standing in front of a bubbling pot, an apron tied around her waist.
“What brought this on? You’re actually cooking?”
They normally had a housekeeper.
“Mrs. Lee took the day off. Her grandchild was born. What could possibly be more important than that? She said she’d go after work, but I told her not to worry about us and hurry over.” His mother glanced at him. “Oh, right. I heard Yunhui came back to Korea. Did you know?”
“Kang Yunhui?”
“Yes. Apparently, it’s been about a week. Don’t you two keep in touch?”
It had been a long time since Ian had heard Kang Yunhui’s name.
Come to think of it, nearly ten years had already passed since Yunhui left Korea.
“It’s not so much that we don’t keep in touch…”
Ian trailed off.
After Yunhui had abruptly left Korea because of health problems, Ian had tried contacting him several times. But Yunhui’s phone had always been switched off, and after about a month, Ian began getting a message saying the number was no longer in service.
He had sent messages through social media as well, asking how Yunhui was doing.
Not once had Yunhui replied.
“He came back after being appointed CEO of Sanha Electronics and vice chairman of the group.”
Ian gave a bitter little smile.
That bastard.
He had returned to Korea and hadn’t even bothered to call. How could someone be so indifferent?
And CEO of Sanha Electronics at his age already…
“I’ll contact Sanha Electronics and try to see him soon.”
Like Yudam, Yunhui was someone Ian had grown up with.
Even with a gap of nearly ten years between them, Ian still wanted to see him.
After letting the subject of Kang Yunhui pass, Ian glanced into the stew bubbling in the pot and swallowed a groan.
Not only were there unidentifiable chunks floating inside, but the color itself looked wrong.
“We could’ve just ordered something simple…”
Unfortunately, his mother was a terrible cook.
Actually, it would be more accurate to say she was terrible at all housework. Whenever she used the vacuum cleaner, she somehow managed to break a vase. Whenever she tried to tidy up, the house inexplicably ended up messier than before.
Cooking was the worst of all.
His mother genuinely wanted to do things for her husband and son, and Ian appreciated the sentiment. But on the days he forced himself to finish her cooking out of gratitude, he invariably ended up sick in the middle of the night.
In a way, it was only natural.
His mother had been born the only daughter of a wealthy family. Because she had always been frail, she had been raised like even more of a princess than most girls in her position. After marrying Ian’s father, nothing had changed. His father had continued treating her like a queen.
“Maybe I really should have.”
Apparently aware that her cooking had gone wrong, his mother stared down into the pot and sighed.
Ian switched off the induction burner, took her gently by the shoulders, and turned her around.
“Go rest in the living room. I’ll either order something or make something simple myself.”
After ushering his mother out of the kitchen, Ian picked up a spoon and tasted the stew.
The instant the broth touched his tongue, a strangled noise nearly escaped him. He barely managed to suppress it before his mother could hear.
There is no way a human being can eat this.
He felt bad for her, but the whole pot would have to go.
It was almost impressive how she could use perfectly normal ingredients and somehow produce such a catastrophic result.
Ian poured the stew down the sink and opened the refrigerator. He was debating whether there was enough inside to make something quickly or whether he should just order food when his mother suddenly called out from the living room.
“Ian!”
Her voice was urgent.
Wondering what had happened, Ian hurried out.
“What is it? Did you see a bug?”
His mother didn’t even look at him.
She was staring fixedly at something across the room.
“Mom?”
Her face had gone white.
Ian followed her gaze and saw the news broadcast filling the television screen.
[An anonymous informant has reported that Haemyeong Industries CEO Seo Hyeonjung maintained a set of double books and embezzled company funds to create an illegal slush fund. Prosecutors have opened an investigation. According to the informant, CEO Seo is also suspected of having contacted several political figures and provided them with bribes, raising the possibility of repercussions not only in the business community but in political circles as well.]
“That’s impossible…”
Ian couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing.
Seo Hyeonjung—the CEO they were talking about—was his father.
His father had embezzled money to create a slush fund?
And bribed politicians on top of that?
“Ian.”
His mother’s voice trembled.
“Did your father tell you anything?”
Ian shook his head.
He worked at his father’s company, but he hadn’t noticed the slightest sign that anything like this was happening. Even that morning, when he had gone to work with his father, the man had seemed exactly the same as always.
“There has to be some mistake. This is only what an informant claimed. They haven’t found any actual evidence yet…”
He was still trying to reassure her when the news anchor abruptly cut in.
[We have just received breaking news.]
Ian froze.
[We have been informed that Haemyeong Industries CEO Seo Hyeonjung fell from the rooftop of the company’s headquarters moments ago. A document believed to be a suicide note was also discovered in CEO Seo’s office. Police are currently investigating the exact circumstances of his death, which they believe to have been the result of suicide. We now go live to the scene—]
Ian couldn’t even listen to the rest.
He turned toward his mother.
She had been staring at the television without blinking.
Then her body crumpled.
“Mom!”
Ian lunged forward and caught her, but she had already lost consciousness.
Bzzzt.
His mother’s phone vibrated on the coffee table.
The number was unfamiliar, but after what he had just seen on the news, Ian instinctively knew who it had to be.
Still holding his mother with one arm, he reached for the phone with a trembling hand and answered.
“Hello?”
[Are you a member of CEO Seo Hyeonjung’s family? This is Lieutenant Lee Seokjun from Gangnam Police Station. A short while ago, CEO Seo fell from his company building and was pronounced dead…]
Ian barely heard anything that came after.
He looked down at his unconscious mother, and his chest tightened until it felt as though his heart were being crushed.
Ian sat on a chair in the hospital corridor, his mind completely blank.
He had just returned from identifying his father’s body, yet none of it felt real.
The police had come to explain the circumstances and ask him a series of questions, but there was nothing Ian could tell them.
He truly knew nothing.
He hadn’t known his father was allegedly hiding a slush fund.
He hadn’t known there was supposedly any connection to politicians.
He hadn’t even suspected it.
No.
Even now, Ian refused to believe it could be true.
Maybe someone had framed him.
This is the suicide note we found in CEO Seo Hyeonjung’s office.
The police had handed Ian a single sheet of paper inside a white envelope before leaving, but he still hadn’t opened it.
A suicide note.
It was absurd.
The moment he accepted that it was truly a suicide note, he would also have to accept that his father had killed himself.
And if his father had killed himself, then it would feel like an admission that the accusations were true.
Ian clasped his hands together and clenched his jaw.
Where had everything gone wrong?
How had he failed to notice anything?
“Ian!”
He turned at the familiar voice.
Yudam stood at the far end of the corridor.
He was breathing hard, as if he had rushed there. The moment his eyes met Ian’s, his face crumpled as though he were about to cry.
Without hesitation, Yudam strode over and pulled Ian’s head against his chest.
“It’s okay. I’m here. Whatever happens, I’m staying with you. I’ll be right beside you through all of it.”
At the sound of Yudam’s voice, Ian’s eyes finally began to sting.
Everything he had been pushing away because he refused to accept it slowly became real.
He bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to keep himself from breaking into sobs, but heat gathered behind his eyes.
Then the tears spilled over.
Yudam didn’t say anything else.
He simply held Ian, stroking the back of his head while his own breathing remained ragged.
Step.
Step.
Footsteps approached.
Yudam instinctively turned toward the sound.
His eyes widened.
“Kang Yunhui?”
Perhaps because of his surprise, Yudam’s arms loosened around Ian.
For the first time, Ian could clearly see the man standing before them.
“Long time no see.”
His voice was much deeper than Ian remembered.
Maybe it was because Ian was sitting down, but Yunhui seemed taller too.
For a moment, the image of Kang Yunhui at seventeen—the age at which Ian’s memories of him had frozen—overlapped with the man standing before him now.
The present-day Yunhui was larger than Ian had imagined.
More imposing.
And with cold eyes, Kang Yunhui looked down at him.