Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
What on earth had just been said?
Half-dazed, Joo-eun stumbled as she stepped on the shoes by the entrance.
“Joo-eun…! What’s wrong? Did you drink?”
Hye-joo quickly turned off the TV and rushed to the front door.
She had thought her daughter would be asleep—instead, it seemed she hadn’t been able to sleep, worried about her late return.
“Mom…”
Joo-eun called out weakly.
“What’s wrong? You don’t usually come home this late even after a company dinner. What happened?”
“Mom, do you happen to know…”
“Yes, tell me.”
After hesitating for a moment, Joo-eun slowly began.
“The Chairwoman of DK Gallery… Do you know her?”
“What gallery? Isn’t DK related to your company?”
Hye-joo still didn’t know that Minhyuk was the son of the DK Group chairman.
There was no way Joo-eun could tell her mother that the Director she’d met was actually the heir to the chaebol. If she did, her mother would alternate between joy and worry, unable to sleep for days.
Instead, Joo-eun introduced Jin-sook not as the Director’s mother but as the Chairwoman of DK Gallery.
“Yes, Chairwoman Lee Jin-sook.”
“No, I don’t know her. Never heard that name before. Why? Did she say she knows me?”
Her tone suggested otherwise—how could she speak of repaying a debt of gratitude to both her and her mother if she didn’t know them?
“No… It’s not like that. I was just wondering.”
“No idea. I’ve never even been near a gallery. Why are you asking about this? Tell me more.”
As expected, her mother showed no sign of recognizing the Chairwoman.
Joo-eun’s lips trembled as she struggled to decide how much to reveal.
“Joo-eun, why are you acting like this?”
It was too uncertain to recount what she’d seen and heard—it would only ruin her mother’s sleep, especially since her health wasn’t great.
“Oh, never mind. I was just talking with some people at work, and something came up…”
“You were talking about me at work?”
“Uh, sort of. Anyway, I’m tired. I’ll shower and go to bed. You should rest too, Mom.”
“What’s with the sudden strange questions? Are you sure it’s nothing? I’m worried.”
Her mother’s worry engine had already started, even though Joo-eun hadn’t begun explaining properly.
“I’m going to bed. Good night!”
Reprimanding herself for bringing it up unnecessarily, Joo-eun quickly closed her bedroom door.
Leaning against the door, her heart pounded so loudly it felt like it might burst out of her chest.
“Ha…”
With a deep sigh, her body slid down the wall until she collapsed on the floor.
“Minhyuk is a child full of scars because of me. Because of his unworthy mother, I don’t want him to get hurt again. I’ll repay all the kindness I’ve failed to return. So, please take good care of my son.”
Jin-sook’s desperate plea still echoed in her ears.
“Take good care of the Director… Why? Why…”
This wasn’t fair.
How was she supposed to endure this?
What strength had she mustered to grit her teeth and bear it all?
And now, take good care of him ?
“I must have been mistaken, Chairwoman. Thinking that maybe the Director and I could…”
Burying her face in her knees, Joo-eun let out a heavy sigh.
The sincerity in Jin-sook’s eyes and voice was vivid, impossible to dismiss as mere misunderstanding.
She remained seated there for a long time, tormented by complex emotions she couldn’t fully process.
________________________________________
________________________________________
Tak tak.
The sound of rolling eyeballs filled the large conference room.
The expressions of the executives seated around the circular table grew increasingly tense.
Two individuals had been clashing from the start, and now they were openly baring their fangs.
President Hong Ki-man took the first aggressive stance.
“The marketing expenses for the third quarter increased by 50% compared to last year. While it’s commendable that Director Jung Minhyuk is leading with ambition, isn’t this excessive spending? The company’s situation isn’t good either.”
Tak.
Minhyuk lightly tapped a pen on a white sheet of paper before slamming it down with deliberate force. Slowly raising his gaze, he responded.
“The number of subscribers for the third quarter increased by 75% compared to the previous quarter and by 200% compared to last year. Do I need to explain further?”
The sound of dry throats being cleared rippled through the room.
President Hong, well aware of the unprecedented growth, didn’t want to lose face in front of everyone.
Glancing at the executives on his left and right, whom he considered allies, he spoke again.
“This is the result of accumulated content power, not just the marketing efforts of the third quarter. Don’t you agree, everyone?”
In response to Hong’s rhetorical question, Minhyuk smirked, lifting one corner of his mouth.
“I see. But then, why was there no accumulated content power in the second quarter or in the first quarter when things were utterly hopeless?”
“Hmm! That’s because… the timing wasn’t right yet. Listening to you makes it sound like all the company’s growth is thanks to you, which is unpleasant.”
“I don’t care whose merit it is. I just don’t want to become a stupid boss who regrets losing market share and waits until the group decides to shut down the business entirely.”
“Stu… stupid? Hey, Director Jung!”
As President Hong raised his voice, Minhyuk casually raised and lowered his eyebrows.
“I was saying I don’t want to become such a boss myself. If it upset you, I apologize.”
His apology carried no remorse.
The mocking smile hidden in his expression only irritated Hong further.
But pointing out his smug demeanor would only make himself look petty, so Hong could only sputter in frustration.
“As you know, Vice Chairman Choi Dae-sik will begin commuting next week. I thank the president for this decision.”
“Hmm, hmm!”
Hong coughed awkwardly.
Had it not been for Chairman Jung Geun-sik’s explicit order to secure Choi Dae-sik’s position, he would never have allowed it.
He disliked anyone scouted by Jung Minhyuk.
“As befits a living legend of the OTT industry, we plan to pursue even more aggressive marketing strategies. I ask for cooperation from all divisions.”
Perhaps overwhelmed by Minhyuk’s charisma, even the executives aligned with Hong nodded cautiously.
‘Not a single cheer from those fools…!’
Hong clenched his fists under the table, trembling with suppressed rage.
________________________________________
________________________________________
Joo-eun couldn’t even remember how she had spent the day.
She barely touched lunch, and dinner was no different. Exhausted, she weakly rose from her seat.
She had declined her mother’s suggestion of having a beer to unwind and retreated to her room.
All day, Jin-sook’s plea had haunted her, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
With trembling hands, she checked her missed calls again.
Despite her anxious hopes, there were none.
“Ha… I want to hear from you soon. Please call me…”
If only she had insisted on hearing everything yesterday instead of letting it slip by in shock.
Now she deeply regretted letting that time pass.
She couldn’t grasp what Jin-sook’s “step-by-step explanation” would entail, leaving her frustrated. Just then,
Vrrr—
Startled by the sudden vibration, Joo-eun snatched up her phone.
“Ah… It’s the Director…”
She had been startled by his calls before, but today, waiting for someone else’s call, his felt less surprising.
“Yes… Director.”
Answering weakly, she heard his worried tone.
[You looked completely drained earlier in the car. Is something wrong?]
He had insisted on seeing her home, only to watch her silently stare out the window, clearly troubled.
Thinking she’d feel better after resting at home, he was now alarmed by her still-flat tone.
“It’s just fatigue…”
[Did I pass something on to you? The doctor said it wasn’t contagious.]
“That doctor was right. I’m not sick. I’m just feeling weak.”
[If you’re not sick, that’s good. But will you finally tell me why you’re so drained?]
Her mind raced, unsure whether to mention his mother’s visit.
[If it’s hard to say, take your time. There must be a reason you’re not telling me.]
“…”
[Just promise we won’t lie to each other. That’s all I ask.]
His low, sincere voice stirred her heart.
She was torn about staying silent.
“Yesterday…”
Joo-eun hesitated, then slowly began.
“The Chairwoman visited me outside my house.”
[…My mother?]
“Yes.”
[Why are you only telling me this now! What did she say? What did my mother say to you!]
Startled by his fierce reaction, Joo-eun waved her hand as if to calm him.
“It wasn’t the atmosphere you’re imagining.”
[Then was it all friendly and warm? Are you telling me to believe that?]
“It wasn’t exactly warm, but… she said strange things.”
[Strange things?]
Regaining her composure, Joo-eun rubbed her lips with her fingertips and explained.
“She said she came to repay a debt of gratitude—to me and to my mom. But my mom doesn’t know her at all. I was so confused, I couldn’t think straight.”
A brief silence followed.
She had hoped for some kind of answer, but now wondered if she had spoken too soon.
“Director…?”
[…]
“Did we get disconnected? Hello?”
Checking her phone repeatedly, she finally heard his low voice.
[Did your parents run a pension somewhere in Gangwon-do?]
His voice trembled slightly, sending an ominous chill down her spine.
“A pension? Suddenly… why?”
[Gangneung. Am I correct?]
“Yes. How do you know that?”
A breath—whether a sigh or ragged exhalation—reached her ears.
[Could it be… near Gangmun Beach?]
“Yes. How do you know that, Director…?”
[Haa…]
“Director?”
[Wait for me. I’m coming over.]
The call ended, leaving Joo-eun frozen, staring blankly at her phone.
She had only wanted to be honest with him—not hide anything—but had she opened Pandora’s box? Fear gripped her tightly.
Google Sites
Report abuse