SS - 22

“Yes, understood. Then President Choi Joo-hyuk will visit in person at 10 a.m. tomorrow… Yes, thank you.” 

After hanging up the phone, Eun-yoo’s face darkened even more. 

The secretary of Chairman Wang had promptly confirmed the appointment time as if he already knew something was amiss—without asking a single question. 

“Damn it.” 

A wave of nausea hit her, and she craved a cigarette, something strong and harsh. 

Standing by the window bathed in warm sunlight, Joo-hyuk felt detached from the people passing by outside. 

The story he had just heard from Eun-yoo had transported him to another dimension, and for a while, he remained deeply submerged in his thoughts. 

“Are you alright?” 

At Eun-yoo’s question, Joo-hyuk turned around, pulled back to reality. Her unusually worried expression felt unfamiliar. 

“My father invested in KMS? That’s absurd. If we just check the source of the investment, it’ll be clear how ridiculous that claim is.” 

“I told Reporter Seo the same thing. But he sneered, asking if I was really sure about it.” 

“Reporter Seo, huh…” 

The reporter Eun-yoo mentioned, Seo Jong-dae, was someone Joo-hyuk knew well too. 

A few years ago, he had been an active journalist at a general programming channel but resigned after a certain incident. Now working as a freelance journalist, he frequently submitted articles to various outlets, including KMS. His stories were often distinctive and sometimes big scoops, so KMS generally welcomed his contributions. 

And now, this man was turning his pen against KMS. 

“Why is he so confident?” 

“It’s about Chairman Wang.” 

“Chairman Wang?” 

“Yes, Chairman Wang. It seems he’s suspicious about the money Chairman Wang invested in KMS.” 

Chairman Wang was practically their benefactor, the one who had made KMS possible. He was their first investor when they launched the KMS newspaper, and the amount of his investments had grown over the years. 

“What reason do we have to doubt him?” 

“Do you remember how we were puzzled when Chairman Wang first approached us with his investment offer?” 

“Of course.” 

They had both suspected he might be a scammer when he claimed he wanted to invest in a newspaper that hadn’t yet generated any revenue through advertisements. 

“But we verified him, didn’t we?” 

It was already a known fact that Chairman Wang had made a fortune in the export business during the 1970s and later retired, only to make another fortune through stock investments. 

What doubt could there possibly be about that? 

“That’s true. But how did he even find out about us?” 

“Huh?” 

“He probably doesn’t even ride the subway. I’ve always found it hard to believe that he came to us on his own.” 

“I’m not sure I fully understand what you’re saying…” 

“Think about it. We launched KMS, and Chairman Wang approached us claiming he wanted to invest—all within a month. How many people could have even seen our newspaper by then?” 

While they had distributed free copies at subway stations, it was true that the early issues hadn’t received much attention. 

Joo-hyuk immediately grasped what Eun-yoo was implying. It was a lingering question that had nagged at him in the back of his mind as well. 

“So you’re saying Chairman Wang came to KMS through my father?” 

“If your father has such wide connections, it’s not impossible. And if that’s true, this mystery would make perfect sense.” 

“But even if that’s the case, there’s no proof that the money came from my father.” 

“I suspect Reporter Seo might have uncovered evidence of money transactions between Chairman Wang and your father.” 

Between Chairman Wang and his father, no less. 

This was a bigger issue than Joo-hyuk had anticipated. If this were true, it would shatter the pride he had built over the years. 

KMS was the result of his relentless efforts to distance himself from the blood-stained money earned through war profiteering and to escape the corrupt shadow of his father. 

“If he had evidence, he wouldn’t have come to you—he would’ve already sold the story.” 

“The story is already out.” 

Eun-yoo’s face clouded over with worry, her tone firm and without hesitation. 

“The story is already out?” 

“Yes. He brought me a draft. The details were quite elaborate—it wasn’t something I could dismiss as mere speculation. That’s why I spent yesterday looking into it myself.” 

Only then did Joo-hyuk realize that this conversation wasn’t just for discussion. Eun-yoo had already reached a conclusion but was waiting for him to arrive at it on his own.

“What’s the conclusion?” 

“I think you need to meet with Chairman Wang. Yesterday, they said it was difficult to meet without a prior appointment, so I scheduled it for tomorrow morning.” 

“What about Reporter Seo?” 

“I asked for some time to look into it ourselves. It was such an outrageous claim.” 

“Did he understand?” 

“Reporter Seo seemed flustered too. He probably thought he had uncovered some hidden corruption on our part, but this is completely unexpected for us.” 

At this point, it was almost certain that Chairman Wang’s investment funds had actually come from Joo-hyuk’s father. 

“I asked for some time. He’ll likely want to break the story before the broadcasting station’s launch, but considering how long we’ve worked together, I managed to stall him.” 

“He’s not the type to wait, though.” 

Reporter Seo already had a history of crossing ethical lines for a scoop. Would he really hold back such a major story? If anything, he’d likely try to release it as soon as possible to create a bigger impact. 

It was all a race against time, yet the only thing they could do now was wait until their meeting with Chairman Wang tomorrow. 

“In the meantime, I’ve called for an emergency board meeting in the afternoon. If this becomes public, we’ll need to return the investment funds immediately.” 

Though it felt like a futile gesture—cutting off the tail after the damage was done—it was still better than doing nothing and simply waiting for disaster to strike. 

And then, belatedly, resentment and anger toward his father welled up inside Joo-hyuk. 

Eun-yoo frowned and looked at him with concern—not just for the future of the company, but also for the strained relationship between Joo-hyuk and his father. 

But there was no comforting word Joo-hyuk could offer her. His honest desire was to rush to Chairman Choi right now and unleash his fury. 

Instead, he clenched his fists even tighter, his knuckles turning white. 

Outside the tall black walls that hid the interior from view, Gana parked her car neatly and took a moment to steady her breathing. 

How many years had it been since she last came here? Twelve years. Exactly twelve years. 

That summer night when the rain poured down in torrents. She had run out of this house and headed straight to her aunt’s place. Without a suitcase or wallet, she had flagged down a taxi on the main road and arrived at her aunt’s blue gate, knocking just as she had today. 

Since that day, Gana had never set foot in this neighborhood again. 

The happy memories she once shared with her mother were erased the moment she first left this house. Everything that followed was dark and oppressive. 

Even now, the thought of the people who still lived in this house sent shivers down her spine. And they were supposedly her “family.” 

Realizing the appointed time was approaching, Gana shook her head a few times before stepping out of the car. 

The weather was clear, but the house still felt shrouded in thick fog. 

She pressed the doorbell, and a bright voice answered. 

“This is Kang Sena.” 

[Please wait a moment.] 

A woman who seemed to be a housekeeper ended the intercom call. After a brief wait, the heavy gate creaked open. 

Pushing the tall black door, Gana stepped cautiously inside, one step at a time. 

Whether it was twelve years ago or now, the path leading to the main house remained just as luxurious and serene. The stone steps were immaculately clean, free of moss, and the garden and trees were perfectly manicured. 

As she crossed the garden, a woman in her late forties emerged from the entrance of the three-story mansion. Dressed in an all-black dress with a pristine white apron, her identity as a housekeeper was unmistakable. 

“Welcome, Miss. The master and mistress have been waiting for you.” 

Unfamiliar with being called “Miss,” Sena instinctively grimaced. 

The housekeeper, focused on leading the way, didn’t notice Sena’s reaction and turned to guide her into the mansion. 

As Sena entered through the door, she couldn’t help but shiver. 

The hallway connecting the entrance to the living room was brightly lit, but the image she saw felt eerily different, sending a chill down her spine. 

She repeatedly reminded herself not to recall the past, not to be afraid, but the sweat gathering in her palms betrayed her anxiety. 

“Have you arrived?” 

As she entered the living room, Madam Oh was seated beneath a grand chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. Clad in an elaborately embroidered black velvet dress, she gracefully lifted her teacup, sipping her tea while casting a sidelong glance at Sena. 

“Yes.” 

“How many years has it been? Ten?” 

“…Twelve years.” 

“Has it really been that long? This must bring back so many memories, child.” 

Madam Oh spoke as if nothing had happened, as if this house had always belonged to Sena. 

In a way, it did feel surreal. It was different from the feeling she had when she first entered this house after her mother’s death. 

At least now, she had Joo-hyuk by her side. 

“And… Father?” 

“He’ll come out when he’s ready.” 

Without offering her a seat, Madam Oh lifted her teacup again, leaving Sena standing awkwardly in the living room, waiting for Chairman Kang to appear.

At that moment, Ji-cheol appeared descending the stairs from the second floor. The last face she wanted to see, and Sena instinctively furrowed her brows.

Though she hadn’t run or exerted herself, her breath felt shallow, and her heart raced uncontrollably.

“If you’ve seen your older brother, you should at least greet him.”

Madam Oh muttered irritably as she set her teacup down.

“It’s fine. Since when was I ever his younger sister?”