MHD - 75

Chapter 75: Lingering Shadows

“Scandals in the Arts World: The Never-Ending #MeToo Controversy”

Yoon Jisun abruptly turned off her tablet after reading the newspaper headline, overcome with anger.

What she had thought was unrelated to her—the #MeToo movement—had spread like wildfire across the arts community, eventually implicating even the long-dormant ballet troupe under Gangrim Cultural Foundation.

Of course, the group had been doing everything possible to suppress any mention of Gangrim Cultural Foundation.

“...How hard I’ve worked to keep this contained.”

As Jisun reflected on the past, her fists clenched tightly, trembling with rage.

Back then, when Jung Hoon harassed several members of the troupe and the story made headlines, threatening to shake the foundation to its core—it was Hee-soo who, unknowingly, gave an interview to a reporter, exposing what had been carefully buried.

That time had been a crisis too.

But back then, money could still solve anything.

They placated the victims, handing over substantial sums of money along with promises of secrecy. And, of course, implicit threats were deployed as needed.

Jisun had to protect the reputation of the Gangrim Cultural Foundation, which she considered her life’s greatest achievement. And for a time, it seemed she had succeeded.

That is, until those who had been silenced began speaking out.

What they cried out for wasn’t just compensation—they wanted justice. Even after returning the money they had received, they demanded accountability and apologies from their abusers. They argued that they had never wanted the hush money in the first place.

These days, the group’s PR department was working overtime. Every day, they pressured media outlets to avoid mentioning Gangrim Cultural Foundation in articles, while tirelessly monitoring and censoring reports around the clock.

And now, as if things weren’t bad enough, news arrived that Jung Hoon would soon return to Korea.

All attempts to keep him detained in the U.S. through various schemes had failed.

It was painfully obvious that his return would only fan the flames of the #MeToo movement, intensifying the controversy.

Yet, during such a critical time, Jae-hyuk was nowhere to be found. He rarely responded to calls.

Throb.

Jisun was suffering from increasingly severe migraines, leaving her unable to hold her head up at times. Sharp pain throbbed relentlessly at her temples.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and took a moment to catch her breath.

“Madam Chairwoman.”

Gong Sunyoung knocked and entered the office.

“Vice President Lee is here. He asked if you’re available for a moment.”

“Jae-hyuk?”

Jisun’s face brightened instantly, her earlier gloom dissipating.

“Where do these rumors even come from?”

Jisun glanced at Jae-hyuk, then pushed the tablet toward him. On the screen was an article about the recent scandal involving the Gangrim Cultural Foundation.

Jae-hyuk, who hadn’t mentioned any specific agenda upon arrival, sat silently, listening to Jisun’s words without comment.

“No matter how much we try to suppress it, someone somewhere keeps writing articles. What do they want?”

“Hmm.”

Jae-hyuk’s gaze shifted to the tablet in front of him, but he remained silent. Watching his lack of reaction, Jisun changed the subject.

“Your uncle is returning the day after tomorrow. Are you preparing well? It seems he’s trying to rally support from the board before the executive meeting.”

Jisun was growing increasingly uneasy with Jae-hyuk’s silence.

Was he paying attention to the company’s internal affairs? Was he distracted by something else during this crucial time? Did he know about her meeting with Hee-soo?

If he had come with a purpose, he would have brought it up immediately after sitting down. But today, Jae-hyuk was unusually quiet.

“Jae-hyuk, I know you’ve been preparing step by step, but I’m worried. After what happened with Chaewon, are you filling the void in your heart with something… inappropriate?”

Jisun probed further, trying to gauge her son’s current state of mind. Finally, Jae-hyuk, who had been silent until now, slowly opened his mouth.

“Mother. I plan to hold a press conference timed with Uncle’s arrival.”

“Oh? What will it be about?”

Jisun nodded approvingly, satisfied that her son was taking action.

Jae-hyuk had always been meticulous, preparing multiple contingency plans for every situation. That was why, despite his young age, he was able to challenge seasoned executives and aim for the chairmanship.

But what came out of Jae-hyuk’s mouth next was something Jisun could never have anticipated.

“It will address the corruption within Gangrim Cultural Foundation that has persisted for the past ten years.”

“What?”

Jisun dropped her teacup, spilling tea all over the floor.

“What… what are you talking about?”

“Exactly what you heard.”

While Jisun stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, Jae-hyuk’s expression remained completely calm. With the demeanor of someone simply carrying out a necessary task, he turned off the tablet screen and looked back at her.

Though outwardly a cultural organization, Gangrim Cultural Foundation had served as Jung Chul’s money-laundering operation.

Jung Chul had placed Jisun as the CEO while filling key positions—executive director, advisory director—with his closest allies.

And those same executives were now part of the faction opposing Jisun, led by Cho Bum-suk.

Jisun had paid no attention to the foundation’s operations. Its budget had always overflowed, and she left the complicated financial dealings to her husband—or rather, to his subordinates.

Only after Jung Chul’s death did Jisun realize she had been used. That was why Gangrim Cultural Foundation existed now in name only.

Though maintaining the foundation’s facade pained her, she believed it was better to bury everything than risk exposing what had been hidden by expanding its activities. It was a choice to die with honor.

“How could you… after all I’ve done to protect it, you’re going to dig it all up now?”

Jisun couldn’t believe her ears. She couldn’t fathom Jae-hyuk saying such a thing, knowing full well how much the foundation meant to her.

“A press conference? You’re really going to expose it? What’s your intention?”

Her lips felt dry. Jisun had never once imagined that Jae-hyuk would dare turn against her.

“All those involved in the foundation’s corruption will face punishment fitting their crimes. Including Uncle.”

Jae-hyuk’s voice was calm, almost detached. But the more Jisun listened, the more incredulous she became.

“Do you not realize that I’m implicated too if we start digging into indirect connections? Why stir up the past? This could harm the entire group!”

Jisun’s voice trembled as she raised it in desperation.

The reason Yoon Jisun had simply buried the corruption within Gangrim Cultural Foundation was that it represented her last remaining “pride.”

The foundation was her source of pride, the final pillar of self-respect that kept her standing. Even if it was rotten on the inside, she had to maintain its reputation and honor—it was essential.

It mirrored her life.

No matter how decayed things were beneath the surface, as long as appearances were maintained, that was all that mattered. As long as others envied her, that was enough.

That façade was the last support propping up her existence.

“I regret this deeply, Mother.”

Jae-hyuk’s cold response only fueled Jisun’s rage further.

“You’re really going to do this, even though you know what it means?”

“Yes. I’m fully aware.”

“Jae-hyuk!”

Jisun, her voice raised to a fever pitch, could no longer contain herself.

“Is this about Hee-soo? Are you doing this just to shame me? Will you only feel satisfied once you’ve smeared my face?”

“Mother.”

Jae-hyuk looked at her with an emotionless face, but the icy glint in his eyes sent an involuntary chill down Jisun’s spine.

“You knew everything, didn’t you? About what happened to Hee-soo.”

“That… What does Seo Hee-soo matter now? Look at what’s happening right in front of you, Jae-hyuk! You need to snap out of it. This isn’t the time to be distracted by some girl.”

“No. No, you’re wrong, Mother.”

Jae-hyuk shook his head lightly, showing no sign of wavering in response to Jisun’s words.

“Without reflecting on the past, neither an organization nor a person can move forward. That’s what I believe.”

“Fine, reflect then! I’ve always felt guilty about that girl. But she brought it upon herself too. If only she hadn’t repaid kindness with betrayal…”

“The only thing Hee-soo did was speak out against injustice. That’s not a wrongdoing—it’s the truth.”

“It’s all in the past.”

“I intend to hold everyone accountable for the injustices of the past. Only then can we hope for a better future.”

“Alright, Jae-hyuk. You’re not wrong. Let’s think this way and move forward together, okay?”

Jisun pleaded with every ounce of strength she had left, her entire body trembling. Yet Jae-hyuk remained unmoved, calmly watching her with the same steady gaze.

“I thought at least you felt some guilt toward Hee-soo.”

“I didn’t know. I only overheard later that she had miscarried. Your father never mentioned it to me.”

“It must have been easier to pretend ignorance. But you should have been the one to support her. She had no one else in this family to lean on but you.”

“That girl tried to shake me! She dared question whether I understood what pride meant!”

“That sounds like Hee-soo.”

“Are you defending her to my face right now?”

Jae-hyuk’s face no longer resembled the son Jisun had known for so long.

As Jisun paled, Jae-hyuk turned his gaze away from her and adjusted his loosened tie before rising from his seat.

“Mother, you always said you wanted me to become truly independent. Now, as you wished, you can step down from the chairmanship. There’s no longer any need to uphold what Father left behind.”

As Jisun stared into her son’s resolute eyes, fear gripped her heart.