MHD - 65

Chapter 65: That Day, 10 Years Ago (2)

The next morning, Jung-chul sat at the dining table with a nonchalant expression and spoke to Ji-sun.

“Jung-hoon is leaving for the U.S. next week.”

“Really? So suddenly?”

Ji-sun feigned ignorance, maintaining a calm demeanor despite her trembling hands gripping the spoon as memories of the previous night flooded back.

“He’s been causing trouble, so I’m sending him away for a while. Just thought you should know.”

After casually saying this and resuming his meal, Jung-chul suddenly looked up at Ji-sun and asked:

“…Didn’t hear anything strange last night?”

“What… do you mean?”

“Jung-hoon came home completely drunk and was making a racket. I thought you might’ve heard it.”

“…I didn’t hear a thing.”

As Ji-sun pretended ignorance and reached for her chopsticks, Jung-chul raised his eyebrows in puzzlement.

“You have insomnia, don’t you? You always wake up at least once in the middle of the night. Did you sleep soundly last night?”

“Oh, I took some sleeping pills yesterday, so I didn’t wake up.”

“Is that so? Good for you.”

With an even more composed expression than Ji-sun’s, Jung-chul buried his face in his bowl and noisily slurped his soup.

Watching her husband, Ji-sun lowered her trembling hand beneath the table, gripping it tightly with her other hand.

I didn’t hear anything. I don’t know anything.

Ji-sun repeated these thoughts to herself throughout the night, trying to erase what she had overheard. But it wouldn’t go away. The image of the girl they were talking about kept surfacing in her mind.

Seo Hee-soo. It was her again.

Hee-soo’s interview had been the spark that ignited a firestorm around Jung-hoon’s past misdeeds.

Because of that, Jung-hoon—already under scrutiny for allegedly hosting drug-fueled parties with celebrities—found himself in an even more precarious position. Not only that, but the reputations of both Jung-chul and Kangrim Group plummeted overnight. A boycott movement arose, and the company was still reeling from the damage.

It was true that both Jung-chul and Jung-hoon saw Hee-soo as a thorn in their side.

So Hee-soo was pregnant…?

Ji-sun couldn’t hide her shock. Yet she knew there was nothing she could do about it now.

All she could do was pray fervently that Jae-hyuk would never find out.

That desperate wish had carried her through the past 10 years. When she learned that Seo Hee-soo had debuted as an actress, she was utterly stunned.

Every time Hee-soo appeared on screen, Ji-sun felt a deep sense of unease.

Seeing Hee-soo made her feel as though the life she had painstakingly built was nothing but a facade. All because of that one question Hee-soo had left her with.

“What kind of pride are you trying to protect?”

Wherever she looked, Hee-soo seemed to be asking her that same question again. Whether it was on screen or in magazine spreads, Hee-soo’s presence only brought Ji-sun discomfort.

It was as if Hee-soo mocked her silently, saying, Your life is fake, full of pretense, and utterly worthless.

Jung-chul also regarded Hee-soo as a thorn in his side.

An unspoken directive circulated throughout all of Kangrim Group’s subsidiaries: a complete boycott of Seo Hee-soo.

Movies, dramas, commercials—all media outlets under Kangrim’s influence refused to feature her. They assumed she would quietly fade away. Instead, she skyrocketed to stardom after winning Best Actress at a major awards ceremony for her role in an indie film.

She’s like a weed. No matter how much you trample her, she just won’t die.

Sitting in her car, Ji-sun let out a bitter laugh and turned her gaze toward the window. At the bus stop, a poster of the rival actress Kangrim had promoted instead of Hee-soo hung prominently on an advertisement board.

Due to corporate sabotage, Hee-soo became an oddity in the industry—a highly acclaimed actress who rarely appeared in commercials despite starring in critically acclaimed projects. This explained why she was rumored to have little money despite her fame.

In hindsight, Ji-sun realized she had made a grave mistake by stopping Jung-chul when he had raged about burying Hee-soo entirely. 

Miscarriage.

Her fleeting pang of sympathy upon overhearing that word had been a grave error. If only she had cut the roots when she had the chance.

Throb.

Yoon Ji-sun felt a sharp migraine pierce her temples, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Team Leader Gong.”

Turning her gaze away from the window, Ji-sun rested her aching head on her hand and spoke.

“I need to meet Seo Hee-soo personally.”

“Understood.”

With a respectful bow, Team Leader Gong opened his tablet and began inputting the schedule. Meanwhile, Ji-sun closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest.

This time, I’ll make sure she never crosses my path again.

Furrowing her brow against the intensifying headache, Ji-sun clenched her teeth.

---

“Hmm.”

Having just finished inspecting a key component factory on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, Jae-hyuk paused before stepping into the car.

For the past several days, his schedule had been packed with visits to sites across the capital region. Moving from one location to another, he had faced hundreds of people, exchanging greetings and overseeing operations.

The relentless pace of his itinerary left no room for rest.

“…Vice Chairman?”

At Oh Seung-joo’s inquiry, Jae-hyuk slowly turned around. The crowd that had followed him out to bid farewell froze in place, their eyes fixed on him.

“There’s no need to come all the way out here to say goodbye. Everyone should return to their work.”

Jae-hyuk gave a slight nod to the dozens of eyes watching him, then tilted his head upward to gaze at the sky.

The clear blue expanse of early summer was streaked with wisps of white clouds, stretched thin like torn cotton.

The final stretch before the shareholders’ meeting. Vice President Cho, Lee Jung-hoon, the board of directors.

His brief moment of respite was interrupted as names and tasks flooded his mind once again.

Jung-hoon, his uncle who had been prosecuted in a U.S. court for drug possession, had recently been acquitted. With news of his imminent return, Jae-hyuk was channeling all his energy into defending his control over the company.

As expected, Jae-hyuk had been digging into Jung-hoon’s past.

Though most of his misdeeds were beyond the statute of limitations, some still carried the potential to stir controversy.

Drunken driving, sexual assault—the litany of offenses made Jung-hoon’s life seem more depraved than even the lowest of thugs.

And yet, it was equally impressive how Chairman Lee Jung-chul had managed to bury these crimes for so long.

Even if time had dulled people’s memories of Jung-hoon’s sins, the fact remained that he had never truly faced justice for them.

It was almost laughable to see Jung-hoon now, posing as a refined middle-aged man in recent photos—his face radiating the same shameless confidence as his brother, Jung-chul.

Truly, they were cut from the same cloth.

With a bitter smile, Jae-hyuk gestured to Oh Seung-joo and took the tablet PC handed to him. He skimmed through unread emails with a detached gaze.

“This is quite the mess.”

Years ago, there had been victims who filed lawsuits against Jung-hoon. Their cries for justice had been buried without proper media coverage. Now, fueled by the #MeToo movement, those voices were resurfacing with renewed vigor.

“Perhaps it would be best to quietly suppress this matter,” Oh Seung-joo cautiously suggested.

Jae-hyuk shook his head.

“For now, let’s observe.”

The email contained a detailed list of Jung-hoon’s past offenses. As Jae-hyuk read through them, his eyes landed on the last item:

DUI and running a red light.

“Our dear uncle certainly didn’t hold back until just before leaving the country.”

As Jae-hyuk muttered under his breath, Oh Seung-joo chimed in with additional information.

“Apparently, Attorney Kang had a hard time bringing him home after he passed out drunk. Back then, such incidents were so frequent they barely raised eyebrows.”

“It’s almost an art to live so recklessly.”

“You’ll be able to hear more details from Attorney Kang when he returns.”

Attorney Kang had long handled the dirty work for Chairman Lee Jung-chul.

After Jung-chul’s death three years ago, Kang received a hefty severance package and moved abroad. Following several near-death experiences in the U.S., he became convinced that Jung-hoon was targeting him.

This was why he had decided to side with Jae-hyuk.

“Vice Chairman, we should get going. It will take some time to reach our next destination.”

At Oh Seung-joo’s reminder, Jae-hyuk nodded. His brief rest was over.

“Let’s go.”

Once inside the car, Jae-hyuk stared endlessly at the sky outside the window.

The torn cotton-like clouds drifted with the wind, merging and reforming into soft, rounded shapes.

Their feathery forms reminded him of ballet costumes.

“I must be losing my mind.”

Recognizing the unconscious connection to Hee-soo, Jae-hyuk let out a hollow laugh.

Whenever a crack appeared in his tightly controlled schedule, Seo Hee-soo seeped into his thoughts. Once she occupied his mind, everything he saw transformed into her image.

Like the clouds in the sky, the crisp morning air reminded him of her laughter, and the dusky sunset evoked the gentle shadows she used to cast.

And in the quiet of night, he remembered her fragile voice trembling as she cried in his arms.

Perhaps he had gone mad thinking of Seo Hee-soo.

Jae-hyuk resolved to accept it. He erased his earlier determination to conquer her and exact revenge. He realized that the person who should be by Hee-soo’s side was none other than himself.

Seo Hee-soo simply didn’t know his feelings. If she truly hated him, why did she always come when he called? Wasn’t that contradictory? She still liked him—it was undeniable.

That was his conclusion.

After telling her to visit if she was curious about the scandal, Jae-hyuk waited patiently for Hee-soo to come to him on her own.

Was it her pride that kept her away? He figured she needed an excuse to seek him out, so he played along.

But something felt strange.

Every time he thought of Hee-soo, Jae-hyuk couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial.

Had she really taken money from his father? Was that why she had turned her back on him for ten years? Where had the large sum of money—rumored to have vanished without a trace—gone? Had there truly been a man she loved so deeply that it sparked rumors of an inheritance?

Or was she simply staying silent because her past was too uncomfortable to discuss?

No matter what kind of past she had, it no longer mattered to him. Why couldn’t she see that?

Jae-hyuk suddenly recalled the moment he learned that Hee-soo was an orphan. It was when he realized how little he truly knew about Seo Hee-soo.

“Chief Oh, what was the title of that movie you mentioned before?”

“Which one?”

“The one where Seo Hee-soo won Best Actress.”

“Ah, The Fall of Paradise.”

It was the only film of hers that Jae-hyuk hadn’t watched.

Maybe I’ll watch it when I have time. The nights are long, and I know I’ll miss her.

Finding a way to pass the endless night brought him some relief. Jae-hyuk turned his gaze away from the window.