RB - 63

Chapter 63: The Chaebol Heir and the Internal Betrayer

Bi-ryu, deliberately staring at Jin-hyuk, emphasized his deep bond with Seo-yeon in a dramatic tone.

“No matter how much the world criticizes you, sis, those who truly love you will always believe in you. Like me.”

Though touched by this melodramatic line, Seo-yeon couldn’t suppress the laughter bubbling up from her lips. Breaking the silence, Jin-hyuk addressed Bi-ryu.

“Kim Bi-ryu, I also trust Manager Han Seo-yeon.”

“Why are you butting in? And why do you seem to be enjoying this situation?”

“Not at all—I’m being very serious right now.”

“Mister, since when did we get close enough for you to use informal speech?”

Seo-yeon smacked Bi-ryu’s back hard enough to make a sound and scolded him.

“You impudent brat! This is my colleague, an excellent person who brought us here. His name is Shin… well, you don’t need to know his name.”

She quickly swallowed her words. If she revealed a name similar to Shin Jung-hyuk, the sharp Bi-ryu might easily guess that they were dealing with the Taesung Group’s eldest son.

Bi-ryu continued to feel uneasy, but thanks to Ji-min and Jin-hyuk, things had been smoothed over. On the way to their next destination in Jin-hyuk’s sedan, Seo-yeon didn’t bother asking where they were headed.

Passing through the dazzling neon lights of the city, Jin-hyuk’s car entered the outskirts, enveloped in perfect darkness.

“It’s incredibly dark here—no streetlights.”

“The reporters won’t find us here.”

For the first time, Seo-yeon realized she was fleeing reality to hide. She felt a mix of slight relief and subtle defeat.

Jin-hyuk informed her that his brother, Shin Joon-hyuk, was also hidden in this villa.

Startled, Seo-yeon asked, “Is he doing okay?” Jin-hyuk replied with a request: “He’s currently resting and avoiding external contact except for counseling sessions. Please try not to meet him.”

Guided by an elderly butler, Seo-yeon headed to a second-floor room in the villa.

“If you need anything, please call for me. Also, please refrain from entering the third floor—it’s off-limits as another guest is undergoing treatment there.”

Trusting the butler’s dignified voice, Seo-yeon forced a bright smile and nodded.

It was well past midnight, and exhaustion overwhelmed her. Having depleted all her energy for the day, Seo-yeon collapsed onto the bed.

“Aah.”

A groan escaped her lips. The softness of the mattress felt like it was pulling her into an endless abyss. Soon, her vision faded into darkness.

Knock, knock. Click—the door opened.

Jin-hyuk, who had brought warm water, found Seo-yeon asleep without even covering herself with a blanket. He placed the glass on the table and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Then, gently slipping his hand behind her slender neck, he adjusted her pillow.

Sitting beside the bed, Jin-hyuk gazed at her for a long time. A deep, unmistakable sadness thudded in his chest. Though he could look at her like this and be near her now, an insatiable thirst tormented him.

“She is both my salvation and my punishment.”

Murmuring softly, Jin-hyuk pressed his lips to her temple. His blood surged with desire, but he contented himself with listening closely to her breathing.

Her radiant vitality seemed to seep into him, making his breaths grow heavier.

After a fleeting moment, Jin-hyuk carefully withdrew and quietly closed the door behind him as he left.

That night, Seo-yeon had a nightmare. She woke up to the sensation of someone pushing her off a cliff, endlessly falling into gravity. The chilling feeling of freefall was so vivid that her spine still tingled.

As a child, she often dreamed of falling. Each time, the orphanage director would pat her head kindly, saying, “Our Seo-yeon must be growing taller.” The betrayal she felt from the man she once thought of as her father never fully healed. Reflecting on Jin-hyuk’s potential feelings of betrayal toward his stepmother, Seo-yeon grimaced.

“...What time is it now?”

She picked up her phone to check the time but then remembered she had turned it off hours ago. Turning it back on felt like an immense challenge, a task requiring mental fortitude.

How many calls and messages awaited her? Would even half of them come from friends who genuinely cared?

Seo-yeon lamented how deeply she had lost faith in humanity. Her life, identity, and beliefs had shattered into pieces.

At the root of this collapse were Professor Sung Ho-yeon and Madam Park Yeo-wan.

Summoning courage, Seo-yeon powered on her phone. Ignoring dozens of missed calls and texts, she logged into JB Company’s intranet. With seven days of leave available, she submitted a mobile leave request before turning her phone off again.

---

The next morning, Taesung Group issued an official statement:

―Shin Jung-hyuk, the designated successor of Taesung Group, has no connection to the rumors circulating. The woman referred to as “H” is merely an old friend. In light of his ongoing relationship with the daughter of a foreign company, unverified reports are deeply regrettable. Legal measures are under consideration at the group level.

---

Taesung Group Headquarters

Chairman Shin Tae-myung’s office resembled the aftermath of a natural disaster. Shredded documents littered the floor, and his prized orchids lay smashed into pieces.

The elderly secretary-general stood like a condemned man, bowing his head deeply while gauging Chairman Shin’s mood.

“You useless fools, arrgh!”

Unable to contain his fury, Chairman Shin hurled a crystal ashtray. Only after the video conference screen shattered did the secretary-general snap to attention.

“Please calm down, Chairman.”

The secretary-general rushed to restrain Shin Tae-myung, who was now wielding a golf club. Despite the pain from being struck in the waist, the secretary-general repeatedly apologized.

“Those good-for-nothings! Call the broadcasting station’s director immediately. Tell the legal team to come up too.”

The golf club, swung wildly into the air, finally stopped after hitting the secretary-general’s waist. Suppressing a groan, he instructed the staff.

“Get the legal team up here. Bring all the prepared response materials for the broadcasters.”

Moments later, the door opened—not to reveal the legal team, but Shin Jung-hyuk, the chairman’s capable son.

Jung-hyuk’s face bore signs of injury. He was noticeably pale, with a wound beneath his eye.

Shin Tae-myung, sprawled on the sofa struggling to catch his breath, reflexively shot up upon seeing his son and slapped him hard across the face.

“You bastard, what have you been doing? I haven’t handed over the company yet, you fool!”

Though his head snapped halfway around from the force of the slap, Jung-hyuk remained calm, as if he had anticipated it. This only further infuriated the chairman.

“Won’t you say anything? What have you been up to, thinking the world revolves around you? Do you think Taesung Group already belongs to you?”

Chairman Shin raised his hand to strike again, but the alarmed secretary-general intervened.

“Please calm down, Chairman. At least hear him out.”

“How dare you interfere in disciplining my son? Get out of here!”

Despite the chairman’s fierce reprimand, the secretary-general remained steadfast.

Finally managing to sit the fuming chairman back on the sofa, the secretary-general signaled to Jung-hyuk. After rubbing his stinging cheek a few times, Jung-hyuk spoke in a calm tone.

“Father always says things he doesn’t mean. Taesung Group does belong to me, doesn’t it? Isn’t primogeniture the principle you value most?”

The secretary-general paled at Jung-hyuk’s words, but a faint smile appeared on Chairman Shin’s face. To anyone watching, it clearly said, “Yes, this is how my son should act.” The chairman had always highly valued Jung-hyuk’s composed nature.

“Father must have seen the broadcast. Does this look like something reporters could dig up on their own? There’s a mole feeding them information.”

As Chairman Shin nodded, the secretary-general’s indignant voice burst out.

“We must catch them. Our primary duty is to handle the confidentiality of the chairman’s family. This scandal means our office deserves punishment—but to prevent recurrence, we must find the traitor.”

Jung-hyuk interjected meaningfully.

“Whether it’s a man or a woman will become clear soon enough.”

Chairman Shin’s thick eyebrows twitched instinctively, but Jung-hyuk continued unfazed.

“When the succession changes, rooting out internal traitors is a scientific process practiced since the Goryeo and Joseon dynasties. Let’s turn this crisis into an opportunity. Now isn’t the time to fight with broadcasters—it’s time to catch the traitor. Father, give me full control of Taesung.”

Finally, a satisfied laugh erupted from Chairman Shin. He and Jung-hyuk had always been on the same wavelength. He immediately sensed the deeper intent behind his son’s words.