PTT - 11

“Uh, I’m in my office. Alone. So… how much are we talking about this time?” 

The tone was completely different from when he was speaking to the two of them earlier. With a hysterical and exhausted voice, Director Kwon sighed as he continued the conversation. 

“3 billion? Isn’t that too big of a scale? I almost got caught last time, you know. Haa… alright. The artist is probably that Russian kid… and you’ve already arranged for someone to stir things up, right?” 

Seo-hyun and Ra-on, who had been eavesdropping quietly, exchanged glances for a brief moment. It seemed Director Kwon was planning to participate in an art auction being held in Russia. 

In fields where market prices weren’t fixed, the value of artworks could skyrocket depending on demand. At auctions, the role of bidders was particularly crucial. The final price was determined by how fiercely they competed. 

It wasn’t hard to infer what Director Kwon meant by “stirring things up.” 

Ra-on slightly hunched her shoulders as she waited for the rest of the conversation. The scent of woodsy cologne mixed with Baek Seo-hyun’s lingering presence from the previous night still stimulated her senses. 

“Departure date? …Huh. I have a blind date scheduled for that day. Is the margin the same as last time? Alright, Mr. Seo. I’ll hang up now. I need to go see the director immediately.” 

With those words, the call seemed to end. Only Director Kwon’s grumbling could be heard afterward. 

Seo-hyun furrowed his handsome brows as he removed his earpiece and straightened his upper body. It was the moment suspicion turned into certainty. 

“We need to find out Director Kwon’s departure date. He mentioned having a blind date that day, didn’t he?” 

“Yes. If we leave it to Rye, we’ll know soon enough.” 

“It wasn’t a fruitless endeavor. Let’s head back to headquarters. I also need to talk to Rock.” 

Seo-hyun nodded lightly as he gazed at her, raising his right arm. 

Ra-on tilted her head, wondering what he meant, but soon realized. With an awkward expression, she linked arms with him and whispered softly, 

“This couple act… how long do we have to keep it up?” 

“Hmm. At least until we reach the parking lot, I suppose.” 

“…Alright, fine.” 

“Aren’t I making you uncomfortable, Yoo Ra-on?” 

At his curt question, Ra-on stopped walking. He had never been one to beat around the bush. 

Except for those occasional moments when he acted sly like a fox, he always expressed what he wanted directly—just as he was doing now, cutting straight to the point. 

Her mouth felt bitter. Clenching her lower lip, Ra-on feigned nonchalance as she replied, 

“We’re working right now… let’s focus on our duties.” 

At that moment, a middle-aged couple entered through the gallery entrance. Aware of their surroundings, Ra-on tightened her grip on his arm. Beneath his suit jacket, she could feel the firm muscles of his arm. 

“Oh, just a moment.” 

Seo-hyun’s phone vibrated a couple of times in his pocket as he stepped into the lobby. Pulling out his phone with his free left hand, he tapped on the screen. 

It seemed to be a text message rather than a call. Ra-on, who had paused alongside him, glanced at his profile. 

‘Who could it be…?’ 

Baek Seo-hyun stared down at his phone with eyes as cold as ice, unlike his usual self. His expression was so detached it felt as if he were looking at a complete stranger. 

Had he gotten entangled with someone he absolutely didn’t want to deal with? His lips, which usually curved gently like a crescent moon, were now a rigid straight line, and a faint flicker of displeasure lingered in his dark eyes. 

A face she had never seen since their reunion. It felt as though she had glimpsed the deepest, most hidden part of Baek Seo-hyun, and an odd sensation washed over her. Ra-on blinked naturally as she averted her gaze. 

“Sorry. I just got a text. Shall we go now?” 

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Seo-hyun took the lead, signaling for them to leave. As they stepped outside the gallery, the cold winter air brushed past Ra-on’s pale cheeks.

A white breath escaped her chapped lips. 

Winter had always been her least favorite season, both in the past and now. Whenever the biting wind chilled her to the bone, she prayed for spring to come quickly. 

Was it around this time of year that Baek Siheon had disappeared? Ra-on silently made her way to the parking lot, gazing up at the clear, cloudless sky. 

The muscle soreness that had plagued her since morning still hadn’t eased. She had a gut feeling it would take longer than usual to heal. 

/// 

As soon as they left the National Intelligence Service, Siheon headed to a detached house in Samseong-dong. 

The elevated location meant it took a considerable amount of time to drive up. The walls surrounding the property were nearly twice the height of a person, making it impossible to see inside. 

Given that it was Chairman Baek Moon-jin’s residence, the heavy security was to be expected. 

However, no one stopped Siheon from entering. He was one of the few people who could have a private meal alone with the owner of this house. 

Clatter. The faint sound of a spoon clinking against a dish echoed softly. Though it would normally go unnoticed, the quiet surroundings made it hard to ignore. 

Breaking the heavy silence, Chairman Baek Moon-jin spoke first. 

“Once a month seems like a joke to you, doesn’t it? Only now do you show your face.” 

The table, set exclusively for the two of them, was laden with elegant traditional Korean dishes. Siheon picked up a piece of abalone salad with his chopsticks and took a bite. 

Though the texture was soft and the savory flavor carried a hint of nuttiness, his appetite seemed to wane with each bite. 

Eventually, he set down his utensils and wiped his mouth with a napkin. At times cunning like a snake, and at others exuding the charisma of a leader, Baek Siheon now wore an entirely different expression. 

“If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even set foot here. But I imagine this isn’t exactly a pleasant experience for you either, Father.” 

“There is such a thing as filial duty between parent and child. Do you think you can sever the bond that heaven has ordained just because you feel like it?” 

“That so-called filial duty—do you extend it to Woo-hyuk as well? Wouldn’t it suit you better to prioritize the children of your current spouse over those of your ex-wife?” 

The veiled provocation masked as a statement caused Chairman Baek’s brow to furrow. Though he had long passed sixty, the authority he commanded was not something to be ignored. 

With eyes as sharp as an old tiger’s, he glared at his son before slamming his spoon down on the table. Despite the chilling atmosphere that could make one’s hair stand on end, Siheon remained completely unfazed. 

He simply met his father’s gaze with eyes as cold as winter frost. 

“You dare speak without restraint after seeing me so rarely. How can someone so reckless even think of inheriting Hwacheol?” 

“I have no intention of inheriting it. How many times must I repeat myself for you to understand? Just give up already.” 

“Do you expect me to hand over the company I’ve spent my entire life building to just anyone?” 

Deep wrinkles formed between Moon-jin’s brows, from his eyebrows to his eyelids and the corners of his eyes. Time had etched its marks, but his features were unmistakably identical to Siheon’s. 

As their voices rose, the housekeeper carrying a dish of white fish paused, startled. After taking a sip of mineral water from a glass, Siheon spoke in a calm, measured tone. 

“Why are you handing it over to ‘just anyone’? What about your other child who has already undergone management training?” 

“I will never pass the company to some rootless brat! Do you think lineage has existed for nothing since ancient times?” 

Lineage. The outdated word elicited a bitter laugh from Siheon. 

Twenty years ago, Chairman Baek divorced Siheon’s mother and remarried another woman shortly afterward. 

Exactly a year later, she gave birth to a son, and satisfied, Moon-jin named the baby Baek Woo-hyuk. 

Though Siheon suddenly had a much younger half-brother, he didn’t dwell on it. He no longer lived with his father anyway. 

Chairman Baek poured all his affection into his new child, neglecting the son from his previous marriage. But the golden child he doted on turned into a black-haired beast in the blink of an eye. 

“No matter how little of your blood flows in him, can a child you raised for over a decade truly become a stranger?”

The day the mounting suspicions finally solidified into certainty, Moon-jin had collapsed, clutching the back of his neck, losing consciousness. To think that he had been raising another man’s child as his own flesh and blood.

Though the second son had instantly fallen from grace, Chairman Baek couldn’t publicly declare that the child wasn’t his own blood. It would only harm himself in the process.

That was why he still hadn’t driven Woo-hyuk and his wife away.

“Enough about that brat. Tell me, what has your mother been up to these days?”

At those words, the light in Siheon’s eyes vanished. With an even colder expression, he stared at Chairman Baek before speaking.