《The Space Between Hearts》


 Prologue

    If I had known that the last kiss you placed on my forehead is a silent goodbye, I would have held on tighter. I would have begged you¡ªnot with words, but with the trembling of my hands as they reached for you¡ªto stay. To not let go of the fragile pieces of us that you tore apart as effortlessly as paper. Those pieces, once unbreakable¡ªour first bond, our whispered promises¡ªmeant everything to me.


    But I should have seen it then. In your hesitation. In the way your hand lingered on mine, just a second too long, before it slipped away, like sand through fingers.


    And now, here I am, standing in front of you again. Yet, this time, you''re a stranger wearing the face I once cherished. If I had known I''d one day face this hollow reflection, I might have tried harder¡ªnot to hold on, but to forget. Maybe then, the scars you left behind wouldn''t sting as deeply. Maybe the memories, which once felt like a sanctuary, wouldn''t haunt me like ghosts refusing to move on.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    But how does one forget someone who was once their entire world?


    The waves crash against the shore in a relentless rhythm, as if they too are searching for something lost. We''re like them, aren''t we? Caught in this endless cycle¡ªdestined to meet, destined to fall apart, only to find each other again in the ruins of what we used to be.


    Are we meant to bridge this chasm that has grown between us, or is this our punishment? To keep finding each other, only to lose everything all over again?


    The weight of all the years, of all the "what ifs," presses against my chest as I stand here, staring at the reflection of a past that feels both agonizingly near and impossibly distant. I remember the promises we once made¡ªthe dreams we dared to share, as fleeting as the tides.


    And yet...


    Even with our broken hearts, we drift back to each other, like waves drawn endlessly to the shore¡ªrestless, unyielding, and eternal.

 Chapter 1

    "Stop it! Please, stop it!" Myung-Hwa''s voice cracked, her desperation trembling in the air. She backed against the wall, clutching her apron with trembling hands. Her eyes brimmed with fear and frustration. "I told you, I don''t have any money left! Why do you keep doing this? Don''t you have a conscience?"


    Before she could step away, a sharp slap exploded across her face. Her head snapped to the side, and her world spun as her cheek burned with the sting. She staggered, pressing her palm against her face as tears spilled uncontrollably. The suffocating presence of her husband, Cheon Kwang-Seok, loomed over her, thick with violence and malice.


    Though he worked as a driver for the Han family, every cent he earned¡ªand even the money Myung-Hwa made as a housekeeper¡ªvanished into the dark, greedy clutches of the casino. He only came home after he had gambled away every last coin, always looking for more. The house, their supposed refuge, had become a wasteland of missing appliances and torn belongings¡ªhis chaos, their misery.


    "Hand over the money!" Kwang-Seok''s voice dripped venom as he towered over her, his hand still raised, ready to strike again. Myung-Hwa, crumpled on the floor, hugged herself, her body shaking as sobs wracked through her.


    "I don''t have anything left!" she cried, her voice thin, breaking under the weight of fear. Her cheek throbbed painfully, but the ache in her heart was worse. She glanced up at him, her tear-streaked face a portrait of broken defiance.


    "Where''s Youn?" he demanded, his words laced with greed. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing like a predator circling his prey. "Didn''t he get money from the Chairman last month? Where is it?"


    "Even our son''s money... you''d steal that too?" The thought tore at her, igniting a surge of anger in her chest. "You can''t! Not Youn''s money!" she gasped, her voice raw with emotion. But her defiance only fueled Kwang-Seok''s rage.


    "I don''t care! Give me the money, or you''ll regret it!" he bellowed, grabbing her roughly by the arm and yanking her to her feet. His fingers dug into her skin, and she winced in pain, tears cascading freely now. His grip was a suffocating reminder that there was no escape.


    She tried to resist, to plead for some mercy. "This isn''t right! You can''t keep doing this to us!" Her words tumbled out, desperate and hollow, her voice shaking as she met his gaze. She saw no remorse, only cold, ruthless greed staring back at her.


    Kwang-Seok sneered, his face twisting with ugly satisfaction. "I can do whatever I want," he growled, shoving her back down as if she were nothing. The walls of the house seemed to close in around them, echoing his threats and curses. The air was thick with despair.


    At that moment, twelve-year-old Youn-Jae stood frozen in the doorway, his small frame trembling. He had just returned from school, only to find his mother collapsed on the floor, her face swollen from the blow. The sight of her¡ªbroken, crying, helpless¡ªwas a knife to his chest.


    His hands balled into tight fists, and anger surged within him like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, he rushed to her side, his heart pounding. Kneeling down, he pulled his school bag off his back and dug through it, his fingers shaking. Finally, he pulled out a small bundle of cash¡ªthe scholarship money he had received from the Han Group''s charity, Hope of Tomorrow.


    Youn-Jae threw the money at his father''s feet, his voice cracking with fury. "Take it! Take the money and leave us alone!" His words rang through the small room, his voice trembling but filled with fierce determination.


    Kwang-Seok''s eyes narrowed at his son''s audacity. "Who taught you to speak to your father that way?" he roared, raising his hand to strike Youn-Jae just as he had done to his mother.


    Youn-Jae flinched but stood his ground, glaring up at the man who should have protected them but had become their tormentor. "Isn''t this what you wanted?" he spat, his voice shaking with the force of his anger. "You have the money now. Get out!" His chest heaved with each word, but his gaze never wavered.


    Kwang-Seok hesitated, taken aback by his son''s defiance, but the greed in his heart quickly overpowered his surprise. He snatched the money from the floor, stuffing it greedily into his pocket. "If you had given this to me earlier, none of this would''ve happened," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. He shot a cold, disdainful look at Myung-Hwa, who was still weeping on the floor. "You bring this on yourselves."


    The door slammed behind him as he stormed out of the house, leaving a suffocating silence in his wake.


    Myung-Hwa watched him go, her heart heavy with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. She wiped her tears with trembling hands, glancing up at her son, who stood over her like a tiny protector, his eyes blazing with anger far too mature for his young age. "Youn, you shouldn''t have done that," she whispered, her voice barely audible as the weight of their situation bore down on her. "Why did you give him your money? That was for your school."


    Youn-Jae knelt beside her, forcing a small, fragile smile. "It''s okay, Mother," he said softly, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling inside him. "I''ll get more next month."


    Tears welled up again in Myung-Hwa''s eyes, and she pulled him into her arms, cradling his head against her shoulder. "Oh, my sweet boy," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. "I''m so sorry... I''m so sorry you have to live like this."


    Youn-Jae pulled back, a spark of hope lighting his eyes despite the dark reality they faced. "Why don''t we just run away, Mother? We don''t have to stay here."


    Myung-Hwa looked at her son, her heart breaking at his innocence. She bit her lip, her gaze falling to the broken remnants of their home. "Where would we go?" she whispered, her voice thick with resignation. "We don''t have enough money to start over. We''d be on the streets."


    Youn-Jae hesitated, his young mind racing for a solution. "Should I ask the Chairman to help us? He likes me... he''d understand."


    A soft, sad smile tugged at Myung-Hwa''s lips as she shook her head. "No, my boy," she said, cupping his cheeks gently. "We can''t drag him into this. This is our burden to bear."


    She sighed, wiping away the last of her tears. "Let''s clean up this mess, and we''ll figure it out. Somehow."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Youn-Jae nodded, his jaw tight as he helped his mother to her feet. Together, they began to tidy the remnants of their shattered home, the weight of their struggles pressing down on them. Myung-Hwa watched her son, pride and sorrow mingling in her heart. He was too young to bear such burdens, but he did¡ªbecause he had no choice.


    ***


    The pale morning sun barely warmed the small house, casting a soft, melancholy light through the thin curtains. Despite the chaos that had erupted the day before, the house had been meticulously cleaned, but the silence between its walls was thick with tension. It felt like they were all holding their breath, waiting for the next inevitable storm¡ªCheon Kwang-Seok''s return.


    Myung-Hwa stood by the door, her hand absently adjusting the strap of her worn bag, her shoulders hunched slightly as if carrying an invisible weight. Her face was calm, but her eyes were distant, lost in thoughts she didn''t dare voice. She inhaled deeply before calling out in a soft, almost weary voice.


    "Youn, are you ready to leave? Let''s go together."


    From the small adjoining room, Youn-Jae appeared, still fumbling with the buttons of his too-big school uniform, his hair a bit disheveled. He stopped midway through the room when he saw her. His gaze lingered on her black dress, a sharp contrast to the quiet morning.


    "Mother," he asked, his brow knitting in concern, "why are you wearing black? Did someone die?"


    Her lips curved into a bittersweet smile, her hand trembling as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. "Yes, Youn. A friend of mine..." She paused, her throat tightening as if the weight of the truth was too heavy. "She passed away from cancer. She fought for a long time."


    Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears that she quickly blinked away. Her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. "When you get back from school today, don''t wait for me. Eat dinner and go to bed, alright?"


    Youn-Jae nodded, but his eyes didn''t leave her face. "Are you staying late?" he asked cautiously.


    "Probably, yes," she replied, her voice softer now, as if admitting it aloud made it more real. "She was my closest friend when we were children... I need to be with her... for the last time."


    Her words hung between them, fragile and laced with sadness. Youn-Jae felt his heart tighten as he watched his mother. "I understand, Mother," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He wanted to say more, to offer comfort, but he felt a lump in his throat that made it hard to speak.


    Just then, Myung-Hwa''s expression shifted, her calm exterior faltering for a moment. She knelt down, bringing herself to his eye level, and placed her hands gently but firmly on his small shoulders. Her grip was tender, but there was urgency in the way her fingers dug into his uniform.


    "Youn," she began quietly, her voice low, almost a whisper, "if your father comes back while I''m gone... don''t stay here." Her eyes searched his face, making sure he understood the weight of her words. "Run to the orphanage. Tell the sisters I asked you to stay there. They''ll know what to do."


    Youn-Jae blinked, his chest tightening with a mix of fear and confusion. "But, Mother¡ª" he began, his voice cracking.


    "No." Her interruption was firm, her hands tightening slightly on his shoulders. She looked him directly in the eyes, her voice now trembling slightly as she spoke. "No arguing, Youn. Do not give him any money. Don''t try to stop him. Don''t fight back. Just go, okay?"


    His throat burned, and he clenched his fists at his sides to stop himself from shaking. "Okay, Mother. I promise," he whispered, his voice barely steady.


    For a moment, Myung-Hwa''s stern expression softened, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her worry. She pulled him into a tight embrace, burying her face into his hair as she held him close, her hand gently stroking the back of his head. "My brave boy," she murmured, her voice trembling now, her tears finally breaking through. "You''re so brave."


    Youn-Jae pressed his face against her shoulder, biting his lip to hold back his own tears. He wished he could tell her everything would be okay¡ªthat they didn''t have to live like this anymore. But all he could do was hold onto her, as if by holding on, he could keep her safe just a little longer.


    And for a moment, the small house was quiet again, filled only with the soft sound of their breathing and the fragile hope that this time, the storm might pass them by.


    ***


    The dimly lit casino pulsed with a chaotic energy, a cacophony of clinking coins, spinning roulette wheels, and murmured curses mixing with the sharp, artificial glow of neon lights. The smell of smoke clung to the air, thick and suffocating, as a haze settled over the sea of slot machines and card tables. Amidst the crowd of desperate faces, Cheon Kwang-Seok sat hunched at a poker table, his bloodshot eyes glued to the cards in his trembling hands.


    Sweat rolled down his temple, his hand shaking as it hovered over his dwindling pile of chips. He licked his dry lips, his breath shallow and uneven, as the weight of each gamble bore down on him like an anvil. His heart pounded in his chest, his fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table¡ªan unconscious plea for the cards to fall in his favor. The dealer''s expression remained impassive, but Kwang-Seok could feel the disdainful eyes of the other players, their judgment heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of cheap cologne and stale regret.


    His hand tightened around his final few chips. The room seemed to close in on him as he threw them into the pot with a shaky gesture. His eyes darted from the dealer''s hands to the cards as they flipped, revealing his fate. He held his breath, the silence stretching unbearably thin, each second dragging like an eternity.


    When the last card turned against him, Kwang-Seok''s world collapsed inward. A sickening wave of dread washed over him, the finality of his loss like a physical blow. His face twisted in frustration, and in one swift motion, he slammed his fist onto the table. The sound echoed, chips rattling and clattering in all directions. The other players recoiled slightly, throwing him a mix of annoyed and pitying glances, but Kwang-Seok didn''t care.


    His chair scraped loudly as he stood, the harsh sound cutting through the clamor of the casino. His pulse roared in his ears, his thoughts spinning out of control. Money. He needed it, and fast. And he knew where to get it, even if it meant sinking further into the depths of his desperation. His chest heaved as he stormed out of the casino, his steps quick and angry, his mind racing ahead to what he had to do next.


    Outside, the cool night air hit him like a slap, but it did little to quell the fire of anxiety burning inside him. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, his hand still trembling as he lit it. The first drag was long and slow, filling his lungs with smoke, momentarily calming the chaos inside his head. His gaze drifted toward the neon lights reflecting off the wet pavement, but before he could lose himself in the quiet, his phone buzzed in his pocket.


    He glanced at the screen. The name made his stomach twist in both dread and obligation.


    "Hello?" His voice was low, clipped.


    "The Chairman needs you. Come immediately. There are tasks waiting," came the cold voice on the other end, devoid of pleasantries.


    Kwang-Seok''s jaw tightened, his grip on the phone so tight his knuckles turned white. He flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the street, watching as the glowing ember fizzled out in the darkness. His mind was already elsewhere, calculating. Without another word, he ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket, his lips set in a grim line. His night at the casino was over, but the real game was just beginning.


    He walked with purpose, his footsteps echoing down the street as he headed toward the mansion. The flicker of neon behind him was replaced with something colder, sharper¡ªthe weight of responsibility, of the dangerous life he led as the Chairman''s man. He wasn''t just a driver. That was only the surface. Beneath it, he was the one trusted for the jobs that required secrecy, violence, and loyalty. For ten years, he''d carried out the tasks that no one else would touch, earning the Chairman''s trust. And though the risks were great, Kwang-Seok never faltered. The stakes were always higher, and the reward¡ªpower, influence, survival¡ªalways pulled him deeper into the web of the Chairman''s world.


    The story doesn''t end here......

 Chapter 2

    The clock ticked past midnight, and Youn-Jae lay curled up on the thin mattress, savoring the rare silence that filled the small, cramped room. His mother had said she¡¯d be home late, but he knew better. She was often gone for long stretches, and with his father missing too, it meant no shouting or slamming doors tonight. No drunken fights. Just quiet.


    But that fragile peace shattered with the soft creak of the front door opening. Youn-Jae¡¯s heart raced as his eyes fluttered open. He lay frozen, his body tense, hoping, praying it wasn¡¯t his father. The silence that followed was strange¡ªno heavy footsteps, no angry muttering. Instead, there were careful, almost timid movements, so unlike his father¡¯s usual entrance.


    His chest tightened with dread as he slowly sat up, the thin blanket slipping off his shoulders. The air felt heavy, suffocating. He hesitated before pushing open his door, peeking into the dimly lit hallway. What he saw made him pause: his mother standing by the entrance, holding the hand of a small child.


    ¡°Oh, Youn,¡± she whispered, startled, her tired face breaking into a fragile smile. ¡°Did I wake you?¡±


    Youn-Jae rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep. ¡°No, Mother,¡± he replied softly, his gaze shifting to the child standing beside her. Confusion tugged at his voice. ¡°But¡­ who is this?¡±


    His mother knelt down, her face drawn with exhaustion, but her eyes¡ªthose tired eyes¡ªheld a flicker of something deeper. She placed a gentle hand on the child¡¯s shoulder, the touch filled with unspoken sadness. ¡°This is Ji-Won,¡± she said, her voice cracking under the weight of each word. ¡°He¡¯ll be living with us now. He¡¯s my friend¡¯s child... there¡¯s no one left to take care of him.¡±


    The room felt colder suddenly, the gravity of her words sinking in. Youn-Jae¡¯s heart ached for reasons he couldn¡¯t fully understand. He stared at the small figure, barely able to make out the boy¡¯s face in the dim light. All he could see were his small shoulders, hunched as if the world had already placed too much on them.


    Youn-Jae swallowed hard, his young mind grasping the responsibility thrust upon him. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently took Ji-Won¡¯s trembling hand, the warmth of the child¡¯s skin a stark contrast to the coldness around them. ¡°Hello, Ji-Won,¡± he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of warmth and determination. ¡°I¡¯ll be your Hyung from now on.¡±


    Ji-Won remained silent, his wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on the floor. His tiny hand clutched Youn-Jae¡¯s with a kind of desperation, as though he was holding onto the last shred of safety left in his world. He didn¡¯t speak, couldn¡¯t speak. The grief had swallowed his voice.


    Youn-Jae felt the boy¡¯s fingers tighten in his grasp, and his chest tightened in response. He gave a soft, reassuring squeeze, his heart aching for this child who had already lost so much. He had never been a Hyung before, but in that moment, he made a silent vow to protect Ji-Won, no matter what.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s call it a night,¡± Myung-Hwa said, her voice wavering as she forced a smile, though her eyes betrayed her. ¡°Youn, please take Ji-Won to your room. We¡¯ll talk more tomorrow.¡±


    Youn-Jae nodded, his young face set with resolve. ¡°Yes, Mother,¡± he whispered, glancing back at her with a look that seemed far too mature for his age. He guided Ji-Won by the hand, leading him gently towards the room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls as they walked.


    As he turned the corner, Youn-Jae glanced back one more time, just in time to see his mother¡¯s shoulders slump, her body folding under the weight of her decision. She stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway, her eyes distant as if already anticipating the storm to come.


    Myung-Hwa¡¯s heart felt like it was being torn apart. She watched her son, guilt gnawing at her insides. She knew what this meant. Taking in Ji-Won was not just an act of kindness; it was a choice that would strain their already fragile lives to the breaking point. And Kwang-Seok... how would he react? Her husband¡¯s temper was volatile, unpredictable. The mere thought of him seeing Ji-Won filled her with dread.


    She sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she covered her face. The darkness of the room pressed in, and for a moment, she allowed herself to cry¡ªsilent, hidden tears that no one would ever see. The weight of it all was suffocating: the guilt, the fear, the uncertainty. What if she couldn¡¯t protect them? What if bringing Ji-Won into this fractured family only made everything worse?


    With a deep sigh, Myung-Hwa wiped her face and straightened up, forcing herself to push the fears aside. There was no time for weakness. Tomorrow, she would face Kwang-Seok. Tomorrow, she would do what they always did¡ªsurvive.


    ***


    Myung-Hwa, weary from the heavy burden of her choices, had intended only to close her eyes for a brief moment, but exhaustion claimed her entirely. The deep quiet of sleep wrapped around her, offering a brief escape from her worries. That was, until the sudden clattering of utensils and soft shuffling sounds snapped her awake. Her heart leapt into her throat, panic surging through her body as she bolted upright.


    Kwang-Seok¡ªhad he found Ji-Won? The thought that her husband might already saw Ji-Won and in a rage sent cold fear coursing through her veins. Her eyes darted around the room, half expecting to hear his violent temper erupt any second. But what she saw instead left her frozen, then exhaling a long breath of relief.


    At the small kitchen table, Youn-Jae and Ji-Won sat quietly, sharing breakfast together. Youn-Jae, already dressed in his neat school uniform, looked every bit the responsible older brother as he calmly ate, his posture relaxed but attentive. Ji-Won, smaller and still wrapped in a shy, cautious silence, glanced nervously at his plate but mirrored Youn-Jae¡¯s every move.


    For a moment, Myung-Hwa stood watching them, a bittersweet warmth spreading through her chest. The sight was almost too peaceful to be real. Rubbing her tired eyes, she slowly pushed herself up from the chair, her body stiff from the uncomfortable sleep.


    ¡°I clearly fell into a deep sleep¡­¡± she murmured, her voice laced with embarrassment and the remnants of tension still clutching at her heart. She stepped forward, trying to shake off the grogginess as she made her way to the table, a small, apologetic smile tugging at her lips.


    Youn-Jae looked up, his gaze softening when he saw her. ¡°Mother, you should¡¯ve slept in your bed,¡± he said gently, the concern in his tone unmistakable as he watched her rub her tired temples.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Her voice was light, but the strain behind it was palpable. She turned her focus to the task ahead, not wanting to linger on her fatigue or the fear that had woken her. ¡°Youn, once you finish your breakfast, could you help Ji-Won get ready?¡±


    She glanced briefly at Ji-Won, the boy sitting so quietly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair as if he wasn¡¯t sure if he belonged there. She knelt slightly to catch his eye, her voice softening. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking you to school too, Ji-Won. We need to get you settled, okay?¡±


    Ji-Won gave a small, hesitant nod, still too timid to speak. His wide, uncertain eyes flicked from Myung-Hwa to Youn-Jae, seeking some form of comfort in their presence. Youn-Jae, noticing the boy¡¯s unease, smiled reassuringly and leaned forward slightly, speaking in a warm, brotherly tone. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ji-Won. We¡¯ll be ready in no time, and I¡¯ll show you around school.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Myung-Hwa felt a soft wave of gratitude toward her son, the weight of their situation feeling just a little lighter in that moment. ¡°Thank you, Youn,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I just need to get ready myself.¡± She made to turn toward the bedroom, but Youn-Jae¡¯s voice stopped her.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to eat something first, Mother?¡± His tone was calm but laced with concern, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness.


    Myung-Hwa¡¯s stomach churned with anxiety, not hunger, but she forced a small smile, waving his question away. ¡°No, I¡¯ll eat later. I need to hurry, or we¡¯ll be late.¡± Her hands fluttered nervously, smoothing her already-wrinkled shirt as if that could steady her racing thoughts. ¡°Just¡­ make sure Ji-Won is ready.¡±


    Youn-Jae nodded, sensing the underlying tension in her voice, though he didn¡¯t press further. ¡°Of course, Mother. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll take care of it,¡± he replied with a firm yet gentle resolve, his eyes flicking toward Ji-Won to give him another reassuring glance.


    As Myung-Hwa hurried away, her mind raced with all the uncertainties that lay ahead. How long could they keep up this fragile routine? How much time did she have before Kwang-Seok¡¯s looming presence shattered this small bubble of peace? Pausing for a moment, she glanced back over her shoulder, watching as Youn-Jae leaned closer to Ji-Won, quietly explaining something that made the younger boy relax, if only slightly.


    Her heart ached at the sight¡ªYoun-Jae, already shouldering responsibilities far beyond his years, and Ji-Won, so lost and broken. She swallowed hard and turned away, hurrying to prepare for the day, all the while praying that Kwang-Seok would stay away, just a little longer. Maybe today, they could hold onto some sense of normalcy, even if it was fleeting.


    ***


    Youn-Jae¡¯s eyes swept across the bustling school courtyard, searching for Ji-Won among the throngs of students. His heart quickened when he finally spotted Ji-Won sitting alone on a weathered wooden bench, intently doodling on a piece of paper. Intrigued, Youn-Jae approached quietly, his footsteps light as he came to a stop behind the boy. He watched the focused expression on Ji-Won¡¯s face, captivated by the intensity with which he sketched.


    ¡°Hmm, so you¡¯re good at drawing,¡± Youn-Jae remarked, his voice filled with genuine surprise and admiration.


    Ji-Won¡¯s face flushed crimson, and he instinctively tried to hide the paper and pen, his small hands trembling ever so slightly. His shyness enveloped him like a cloak, and he avoided Youn-Jae¡¯s gaze, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt.


    With a warm, friendly smile, Youn-Jae extended his hand toward Ji-Won. ¡°Let me see that,¡± he said, his tone inviting and encouraging.


    Ji-Won hesitated, caught between his desire to share and the fear of judgment. His eyes darted away, shadows of uncertainty clouding his features.


    ¡°Come on, don¡¯t be shy around your Hyung,¡± Youn-Jae coaxed gently, crouching down to Ji-Won¡¯s level to establish a connection. ¡°I won¡¯t bite, I promise.¡±


    After a moment of hesitation, Ji-Won reluctantly handed over his drawing, his cheeks still flushed. He kept his head bowed, his heart racing with both fear and hope.


    Youn-Jae¡¯s eyes widened in awe as he examined the drawing. ¡°Whoooa! This is really nice, Ji-Won. You have golden hands!¡± He leaned in closer, excitement bubbling in his voice. ¡°Wait, is this you and me at the beach?¡± He looked up, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. ¡°Do you like going to the beach?¡±


    Ji-Won nodded silently, his eyes peeking up at Youn-Jae from beneath his lashes. The corners of his mouth began to lift, revealing a timid but growing smile.


    Touched by the drawing, Youn-Jae gently patted Ji-Won¡¯s head, feeling a surge of affection and protectiveness. He sensed the significance behind the sketch, a glimpse into Ji-Won¡¯s world that made his heart swell.


    ¡°Are you happy to have someone now? I know you must still be sad about your mother,¡± Youn-Jae asked softly, his voice dripping with empathy.


    In a spontaneous burst of affection, Ji-Won wrapped his small arms around Youn-Jae in a warm hug, surprising him. Youn-Jae¡¯s eyes widened in pure astonishment, his heart swelling at the boy¡¯s unguarded warmth. He gently pushed Ji-Won back to look into his eyes, his heart touched by the boy¡¯s sincerity.


    ¡°I promise you, you¡¯ll never be alone from now on,¡± Youn-Jae vowed, his voice firm yet tender, the sincerity evident in his gaze. ¡°Let¡¯s grow up together happily with Mother.¡±


    Finally, Ji-Won¡¯s face broke into a warm smile, his angelic features illuminated by the sincerity in his brown eyes. The moment felt charged with a profound sense of connection and hope, wrapping around them like a protective shield.


    ¡°Oh, our lunch! I almost forgot,¡± Youn-Jae exclaimed, his eyes widening as he glanced at the lunchbox on the nearby table.


    With a swift motion, he reached for the lunchbox, carefully placing it on the table. He opened it to reveal the neatly packed food he had prepared, then sat down beside Ji-Won, sharing the meal in a comfortable silence.


    After they finished eating, Youn-Jae stood up, his face brightening with enthusiasm. ¡°I¡¯ll walk you to your classroom,¡± he said, his voice brimming with energy and warmth.


    He escorted Ji-Won to his classroom, their steps light and cheerful, laughter echoing softly between them. Once they arrived, Youn-Jae gave Ji-Won a reassuring pat on the head, his smile unwavering. ¡°Have a great day, Ji-Won. I¡¯ll see you later,¡± he said, his voice infused with genuine care.


    Ji-Won gave a shy but grateful nod, his brown eyes following Youn-Jae as he turned to head back to his own classroom. Youn-Jae¡¯s smile didn¡¯t fade; he ran back with a spring in his step, a sense of joy radiating from him.


    ***


    A loud slam reverberated through the house, making Myung-Hwa jump as she stood in the kitchen, preparing food for the two boys. The forceful way the door swung open told her everything she needed to know¡ªit was Kwang-Seok, back from his reckless escapades of gambling and drinking. She winced as the heavy scent of alcohol invaded the air, mixing uncomfortably with the aroma of the food simmering on the stove.


    Kwang-Seok staggered in, his steps unsteady as he threw himself onto the sofa with a heavy thud. ¡°Myung-Hwa!¡± he bellowed, his voice slurred, irritation spilling from his lips. ¡°Hey, come here!¡±


    Myung-Hwa hesitated, her heart racing with fear and apprehension. She knew all too well what could happen if she didn¡¯t comply. Wiping her hands on her apron, she untied it, dread coiling in her stomach as she nervously approached him.


    ¡°Why are you so slow to come here?¡± Kwang-Seok snarled, his eyes narrowing with drunken fury. In a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed a glass vase from the side table and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into a cascade of glass.


    Myung-Hwa flinched at the sound, standing before him trembling. Her eyes barely met his, her body tense, mind racing with fear of the inevitable. Kwang-Seok¡¯s rough hand reached out, sliding up her thigh, under her skirt.


    ¡°No¡­ Please,¡± Myung-Hwa whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to pull away, the panic rising within her. But even in his drunken state, Kwang-Seok¡¯s grip was ironclad, yanking her back with overpowering strength, his touch rough and unrelenting.


    ¡°Stop it, Kwang-Seok. Youn-Jae will be home soon!¡± Myung-Hwa pleaded, her voice trembling as she fought to push him away, desperation clawing at her.


    ¡°This will be quick,¡± Kwang-Seok grumbled, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol as his grip tightened on her arm.


    ¡°No, please!¡± Myung-Hwa cried, her voice breaking, tears pooling in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll give you money if that¡¯s what you want!¡±


    Kwang-Seok paused, a sneer twisting his lips as he released an irritated sigh. ¡°Now you¡¯re offering me money? What, do you have a man now?¡± His hand shot out, roughly grabbing Myung-Hwa¡¯s face, forcing her to look up at him.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Myung-Hwa¡¯s eyes widened in shock, disbelief mixing with fear.


    ¡°Don¡¯t treat me like an idiot!¡± he spat, his eyes dark and threatening. ¡°If I find out you¡¯re messing around with some other man, you¡¯re both dead!¡± He shoved her away, his anger radiating throughout the small space as he stormed through the house, knocking over anything in his path.


    Panicking, Myung-Hwa ran to the bedroom, digging through her bag with shaking hands. She grabbed all the cash she could find and rushed back, throwing it in Kwang-Seok¡¯s face. ¡°Here! Take it and just get out!¡±


    Kwang-Seok caught the money, his expression shifting to one of disdain. ¡°Oh, yeah? I¡¯ll leave, but don¡¯t expect me to come home anytime soon. I¡¯ve got business with the Chairman,¡± he slurred, stuffing the money into his pocket. He shot her one last threatening look before stumbling out the door, slamming it with such force that the walls seemed to tremble.


    Myung-Hwa stood there, breathing heavily, her body trembling from the confrontation. She felt a slight sense of relief knowing Kwang-Seok would be gone for a while, but the chaos he¡¯d left behind was overwhelming.


    After ten minutes, just as Kwang-Seok left the house, Youn-Jae and Ji-Won arrived home. Youn-Jae¡¯s eyes quickly scanned the chaotic state of the house before darting to his mother, who was frantically tidying up, the food still simmering on the stove. He didn¡¯t need to ask what had happened; the disarray spoke volumes, thankfully they had not crossed paths with Kwang-Seok on their way back.


    He glanced at Ji-Won, who stood silently, his expression blank. Youn-Jae gently nudged Ji-Won toward the bedroom, trying to shield him from the worst of it. ¡°Ji-Won, go change first,¡± Youn-Jae said softly, his voice gentle but firm. ¡°I¡¯ll help Mother clean up. I¡¯ll call you when the food is ready, okay?¡±


    Ji-Won nodded slowly, his small figure disappearing into the room. Youn-Jae helped his mother, his heart aching at the realization that this wasn¡¯t the home Ji-Won deserved, nor the life he wanted for himself.


    The story doesn''t end here......

 Chapter 3

    It had been a month since the house had been calm and peaceful, ever since Kwang-Seok hadn¡¯t come home. Life for Youn-Jae, his mother, and Ji-Won felt strangely comfortable, like a warm blanket wrapping around them. Youn-Jae often found himself wondering if this was how their life should have been all along¡ªpeaceful and free from the constant tension.


    With each passing day, it became clearer if they had enough money and somewhere else to go, they wouldn''t need Kwang-Seok in their lives. And as of now, Kwang-Seok was still completely unaware of Ji-Won¡¯s presence in the house, a fact that brought a mix of relief and anxiety to Youn-Jae and his mother.


    Youn-Jae and Ji-Won¡¯s bond grew stronger with every day. At home, they were inseparable; at school, they stayed close, only parting when their classes demanded it. Whenever someone tried to bully Ji-Won, Youn-Jae would step in, shoulders squared and fists clenched, his protective nature shining through as he defended Ji-Won. At home, after chores were done, Ji-Won often sat quietly, lost in his drawings, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Youn-Jae would be beside him, immersed in his books, occasionally glancing over to catch glimpses of Ji-Won''s artistic flair.


    They spent so much time together, sharing laughter, comfort, and a sense of belonging that Ji-Won had longed for. Ji-Won¡¯s smiles came more frequently now, a light in his eyes that had been dimmed for so long, especially when he was with Youn-Jae. His once shy and reserved demeanor began to soften, revealing the joy that was slowly blooming inside him.


    Myung-Hwa often glanced at the two boys, her heart swelling with warmth at the sight of their natural bond. She would watch them interact, her eyes misting over as their faces lit up with joy while they talked and played, looking at each other like true brothers. This simple yet profound connection gave her hope¡ªa glimpse of what life could be without Kwang-Seok¡¯s looming presence. For three months, this newfound comfort and peace filled their lives, a brief reprieve from the storm that always felt like it was just on the horizon.


    ***


    the storm Myung-Hwa had feared finally arrived when Kwang-Seok stormed in. He was a force of nature, his presence dominating the room like thunder rumbling in the distance. She was the only one home while Youn-Jae and Ji-Won were out running some errands. Not long after, the boys returned, with Ji-Won entering the house first, followed closely by Youn-Jae. Kwang-Seok¡¯s eyes widened in shock, his jaw tightening as he took in the unfamiliar face inside his home. The air felt heavy with tension, and his voice, when it erupted, was like a crack of lightning, sharp and searing.


    ¡°Who the hell is this?!¡± he roared, his voice slashing through the tense air like a blade.


    Youn-Jae instinctively stepped forward, his heart racing, pulling Ji-Won protectively behind him, shielding him from Kwang-Seok''s furious gaze. His body tensed, every muscle primed for a fight.


    ¡°Kwang-Seok!¡± Myung-Hwa shouted, her voice cracking with fear, her hands trembling at her sides.


    ¡°I¡¯m asking you¡ªwho is this child?!¡± Kwang-Seok''s voice grew more menacing, eyes blazing with fury. ¡°Did you get pregnant by another man before, Myung-Hwa? And now you¡¯re letting his child live here?!¡±


    ¡°This is too much, Kwang-Seok!¡± Myung-Hwa pleaded, her voice quivering as she stepped closer, desperation etched across her features. She reached out, trying to soothe the escalating tension.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t have time for this!¡± Kwang-Seok snapped, frustration boiling over as he grabbed Youn-Jae''s arm roughly. The grip was like iron, and Youn-Jae winced, his eyes flashing with defiance. ¡°Come here, you need to go with me.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Kwang-Seok! Where are you taking our son?!¡± Myung-Hwa cried, her hands reaching out in desperation, eyes wide with fear for both of her boys.


    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business!¡± Kwang-Seok snarled, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.


    Youn-Jae struggled to break free, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought against his father¡¯s iron grip. Kwang-Seok¡¯s fingers dug painfully into Youn-Jae''s arm as he dragged him toward the door.


    ¡°Let go of me! I don¡¯t want to go anywhere without Mother and Ji-Won!¡± Youn-Jae yelled, his voice filled with defiance, anger flashing in his eyes.


    ¡°Stop being stubborn and just follow me!¡± Kwang-Seok growled, tightening his hold.


    Youn-Jae resisted with all his strength, desperation coursing through him. He finally managed to wrench free from his father¡¯s grasp, darting toward Ji-Won. He grasped Ji-Won¡¯s hand tightly, fear palpable between them, and pulled him along as they ran to the bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind them.


    ¡°Youn-Jae! Come out here! Don¡¯t act like this to your father!¡± Kwang-Seok¡¯s voice was dangerously low, a menacing tone creeping into his words. ¡°You¡¯re just going to help me a little with the Chairman.¡±


    ¡°No! Get out!¡± Youn-Jae shouted from behind the door, his voice shaking but filled with resolve.


    ¡°You¡¯re a good boy, right? So come out here!¡± Kwang-Seok''s tone turned eerily sweet, dripping with sarcasm, but it only made the boys shiver in fear.


    ¡°I said no!¡± Youn-Jae shouted back, holding his ground, determination hardening his voice.


    ¡°So stubborn...!¡± Kwang-Seok sneered. ¡°I¡¯ll count to ten, and if you don¡¯t come out, you know what will happen to your mother!¡±


    Kwang-Seok began counting loudly, his voice echoing through the house like a countdown to disaster. Inside the room, Youn-Jae and Ji-Won huddled on the floor, clutching each other in fear. Youn-Jae¡¯s mind raced, thoughts scattered as he tried to figure out what to do. He knew the Chairman wouldn¡¯t harm him, but the thought of his father using him for some unknown purpose terrified him. And the threat to his mother weighed heavily on his heart.


    As the count reached five, Youn-Jae looked at Ji-Won, who was visibly shaking, his wide eyes filled with fear.


    ¡°Ji-Won,¡± Youn-Jae said, trying to steady his voice despite the tremors running through him, ¡°I promise, he won¡¯t hurt you as long as I¡¯m here.¡±


    Ji-Won nodded, his expression vulnerable yet trusting, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. The bond they had built over the past month strengthened the resolve within him, even in the face of fear.


    The count continued, and Youn-Jae knew his time was running out. He glanced around the room, desperate for a plan. His eyes fell on Ji-Won¡¯s bag.


    ¡°Ji-Won, where is your drawing? The first one you did?¡± Youn-Jae asked hurriedly, urgency lacing his tone.


    Ji-Won crawled to his bag, pulling out the folded drawing and handing it to Youn-Jae with trembling hands. Youn-Jae carefully tore the drawing in half, keeping the piece with Ji-Won¡¯s image and giving the other half to Ji-Won.


    ¡°Ji-Won, I don¡¯t know what will happen when I go out there, but promise me, you¡¯ll take care of Mother. Stay with her, and no matter what happens, wherever you are, I¡¯ll find you,¡± Youn-Jae said, his voice breaking as he kissed Ji-Won¡¯s forehead and hugged him tightly. He felt the warmth of Ji-Won¡¯s body against him, a reassurance that anchored him in the chaos.


    Ji-Won clung to Youn-Jae, tears spilling over as he whispered, ¡°Hyung, I¡¯ll wait for you,¡± his voice trembling but filled with a flicker of hope.


    Youn-Jae gave him a small, reassuring smile, though his heart ached at the thought of leaving Ji-Won and his mother in danger. ¡°Stay here. When I get back, I promise we¡¯ll go to the beach with Mother. You like that, right?¡± he instructed, trying to instill courage in Ji-Won¡¯s heart before turning to face whatever awaited him on the other side of the door, his resolve hardening with each breath.


    The story doesn''t end here......

 Chapter 4

    A flight attendant glided down the aisle, her poised smile a testament to the excellence of the service. ¡°Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,¡± she announced in a soothing tone, her voice flowing like a gentle breeze. ¡°We are currently cruising at thirty-five thousand feet, with an estimated arrival time in Seoul Korea, of approximately thirteen hours and thirty-three minutes. If there¡¯s anything you need or any assistance required, please don¡¯t hesitate to let us know.¡±


    As the announcement faded, the crew began to assist the passengers, their warm smiles illuminating the cabin as they diligently checked on everyone. ¡°Sir, is there anything we can get for you?¡± The flight attendant approached a man seated in the front row, her voice smooth and polite, her body angled slightly to convey her genuine concern.


    The man, however, remained absorbed in the magazine held up to his face, barely acknowledging her presence. His aloof demeanor was a fortress, encasing him in a world of detachment. With a casual yet impeccably tailored jacket that hugged his broad shoulders and a gleaming, expensive watch on his wrist, he radiated the essence of a high-maintenance figure. His tall frame and striking features commanded attention, exuding the authority of a Korean chaebol¡ªa man of undeniable prestige and power.


    Beside him sat a man in his forties, whose secretary-like appearance and demeanor suggested a life of service. Observing the interaction with a subtle nod, he quickly stepped in. His smile was courteous, but his eyes sparkled with a hint of restrained amusement. ¡°I apologize,¡± he said, raising a hand in a gesture of polite dismissal, his tone a blend of respect and gentle reprimand. ¡°We¡¯ll be sure to call for assistance if needed. Thank you.¡±


    The flight attendant nodded with a graceful bow, her expression a mask of professional composure as she moved on. The aloof man remained impassive, his focus still firmly on the magazine, as if it shielded him from the world around him.


    ***


    Twelve hours later¡­


    The cabin lights gently brightened, pulling passengers from their restless slumber. An announcement crackled over the intercom, slicing through the soft hum of the plane¡¯s engines. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Incheon International Airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened and all personal items are secured. We will be landing shortly. Thank you for choosing to fly with us today.¡±


    The plane touched down smoothly, the wheels skimming the runway with a reassuring vibration. As the aircraft came to a halt at the gate, the flight attendants began their final preparations for disembarkation. Passengers gathered their belongings, excitement buzzing in the air as they anticipated their arrival, a mixture of eagerness and anxiety blending with the last echoes of in-flight announcements.


    The man stood up, adjusting his tailored jacket with practiced ease, a silent assertion of his authority. His secretary followed closely, a flicker of relief crossing his face as they exited the plane. They navigated through the bustling airport terminal, the familiar sounds of announcements and footsteps resonating around them. The crowd thinned as they approached the arrival gate.


    Waiting with a respectful posture and a warm smile was Mr. Kim, the family¡¯s trusted butler. His eyes lit up with recognition as he spotted Youn-Jae, who had finally returned after nearly eighteen years away. Mr. Kim¡¯s welcoming presence was a comforting constant amidst the flurry of the airport.


    ¡°Welcome back, Young Master,¡± Mr. Kim greeted, bowing deeply, his voice imbued with genuine warmth and respect. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time. We¡¯re delighted to have you home.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Mr. Kim. It¡¯s good to be back... I guess,¡± Youn-Jae replied, his voice tinged with a mix of arrogance and a surprisingly gentle undertone. His expression remained cool and detached, but his eyes softened briefly as they met the butler¡¯s, a fleeting connection that hinted at buried emotions.


    ¡°The car is already waiting outside the exit. Shall we?¡± Mr. Kim gestured politely toward the exit, his demeanor both professional and fatherly.


    Without another word, Youn-Jae took the lead, walking briskly ahead, a solitary figure amidst the bustling crowd. Mr. Kim and Secretary Min followed a few steps behind, their eyes exchanging silent glances of understanding. As they reached the exit, the driver stood ready, stepping forward to open the door of the sleek white pearl luxury car with tinted windows. Mr. Kim slipped into the front passenger seat, while Youn-Jae and Secretary Min settled into the back.


    Youn-Jae crossed his legs casually, his hands folding over his lap as he leaned back against the plush seat. His gaze drifted out the window, scanning the roads that were both familiar and foreign to him. A cloud of nostalgia enveloped him as he tried to piece together fragments of his childhood, but the cityscape before him felt like a distant, unrecognizable past.


    He was only twelve when Chairman Han adopted him, escaping the clutches of his cruel father, Kwang-Seok. Back then, his world had been confined to school, the house, and occasional errands for his mother. The Chairman¡¯s house was a sanctuary, but beyond that, he knew little of the world outside his immediate surroundings.


    For the past eighteen years in Germany, Youn-Jae had done his best to erase those dark memories. Even the Chairman had suggested he change his name to start fresh. Yet, he had resisted, determined to keep his identity intact, fueled by a significant hope¡ªthe longing for someone he had been searching for all these years.


    Now, sitting in the car, Youn-Jae¡¯s mind was awash with thoughts of the past. He was returning not just for business and family obligations but also for that elusive person who had woven their way into his heart, the very reason behind his decision to come back, despite the successful and peaceful life he had built in Germany.


    Lost in his reflections, Youn-Jae didn¡¯t notice the car nearing the mansion until the towering gates came into view, slowly parting to allow them entry. The gates opened automatically, triggered by sensors that recognized the car¡¯s plate¡ªa security measure put in place for exclusive visitors.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    The mansion loomed ahead, a grand and imposing structure that had stood largely empty, save for the Chairman, Mr. Kim, a few housekeepers, and some drivers. The Chairman had lived in this vast estate alone for years, occasionally hosting guests to break the solitude.


    Eighteen years ago, when Youn-Jae was sent to Germany to study and learn the intricacies of the Han family business, Seo-Joon, Chairman Han¡¯s true son, was sent to America two weeks earlier. This arrangement was partly due to a fallout between Seo-Joon and his father¡ªa conflict that had fractured their relationship, much like the rift that had driven Youn-Jae away from his own father.


    As the car pulled up to the mansion¡¯s entrance, Youn-Jae took a deep breath, his heart pounding slightly at the sight of the grand estate. This was no longer just a house; it was a test, a return to a world that had once saved him and now demanded his place within it.


    ***


    It was already six in the morning the next day, but Youn-Jae had managed only a little sleep. It wasn¡¯t just the jet lag; the unfamiliar space and ambiance of the mansion added to his restlessness. He had no intention of staying in the mansion while in Korea, and beforehand, he had already instructed Secretary Min to find him a place of his own. Despite his father¡¯s objections, Youn-Jae had mastered the art of charming his father into seeing things his way.


    Yawning as he sat up in bed, Youn-Jae rubbed his eyes and stretched, wearing only cotton shorts and no shirt. The early summer season had just begun in Seoul, and the morning air was warm and inviting. He glanced out the window briefly, taking in the soft light of dawn filtering through the trees outside, then shuffled off to the bathroom to wash up. A few minutes later, he emerged, wiping his face with a towel. He grabbed a plain white T-shirt draped over the chair near his bed, slipped it on, and decided to go for a jog.


    After about thirty minutes of jogging around the mansion grounds, Youn-Jae returned, slightly winded but energized, his body invigorated by the early morning run. As he approached the entrance, Mr. Kim was already waiting by the door, extending a soft white towel toward him.


    ¡°Young Master, your breakfast is ready, and your father is waiting for you,¡± Mr. Kim informed him, his tone respectful but firm, an undertone of urgency threading through his words. ¡°He also mentioned you need to visit the company today.¡±


    Youn-Jae took the towel, wiping the sweat off his face and neck. His white T-shirt clung to his body, revealing the outline of his toned physique. ¡°What a good start to my first day here,¡± he muttered, handing the towel back to Mr. Kim, a hint of frustration lacing his voice. ¡°Visiting the company first thing in the morning, huh?¡±


    As Youn-Jae began walking down the hallway, he casually pulled off his T-shirt, ignoring the butler¡¯s watchful gaze.


    ¡°Young Master, please don¡¯t walk around without a shirt. Your father will scold you,¡± Mr. Kim warned, a mixture of concern and mild exasperation coloring his tone.


    Youn-Jae paused, glancing back with a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Just tell him I didn¡¯t get the memo on house rules,¡± he teased, his voice dripping with playful defiance before continuing down the hall.


    ***


    Secretary Min had already arrived at the mansion, checking his watch anxiously. After fifteen minutes of waiting, he was deep in conversation with Mr. Kim near the grand staircase, their voices low and urgent, occasionally interrupted by furtive glances at the clock.


    ¡°Is the President still not ready?¡± Secretary Min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the crease of worry on his brow deepening as he checked his watch again.


    Mr. Kim, standing with his hands clasped in front of him, tilted his head slightly toward the staircase, his expression reflecting a mix of concern and duty. ¡°Should I call him to his room?¡± he suggested, ready to take action at a moment''s notice.


    ¡°No, no, don¡¯t worry,¡± Secretary Min replied with a small wave of his hand, his demeanor attempting to convey calmness despite the flutter of anxiety in his chest. ¡°I¡¯ll just wait for him here. He should be down any minute.¡±


    The air hung thick with anticipation as they continued their conversation, glancing at the staircase every few moments.


    At last, after what felt like an eternity, Youn-Jae appeared at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in a crisp white polo shirt tucked neatly into tailored black trousers. Polished black shoes gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier, and an expensive watch glinted on his wrist. He carried his coat draped over one arm, his hair styled back with precision, embodying the essence of a young, professional businessman.


    As he descended the stairs, a confident stride in his step, his expression shifted¡ªan uncharacteristic seriousness replaced the usual arrogance. Despite his often childish demeanor and impulsive nature, Youn-Jae transformed into a disciplined leader when it came to business. He could be impulsive and short-tempered in personal matters, like the time he flew from Germany to America for a spontaneous vacation after his college graduation, living nights filled with revelry and trouble. Those escapades often landed him in the headlines, much to his father¡¯s dismay. Yet, in the realm of business, Youn-Jae was disciplined, meticulous, and professional¡ªa stark contrast to his reckless side.


    The duality within him was palpable, and it allowed him to navigate between two worlds, often getting away with his antics, knowing his father would eventually soften at his charm.


    ***


    The visit to the company unfolded smoothly. Youn-Jae toured each department, exchanging pleasantries with department heads who beamed with respect, and being formally introduced to board members eager to welcome him back. He shook hands firmly, the warmth of his grip a stark contrast to the polished image he portrayed. Each greeting was laced with underlying currents of expectation and admiration, underscoring the weight of the legacy he was poised to inherit.


    After hours of familiarizing himself with the company and its people, Youn-Jae finally allowed himself a moment of solitude in the office prepared for him during his stay in Korea. The space was bathed in natural light, a serene refuge amidst the corporate hustle. He walked over to the large windows, gazing out at the city skyline¡ªa breathtaking panorama that sparkled under the midday sun. It was a far cry from the grim streets of his past, a testament to how much his life had changed. Yet, it also served as a haunting reminder of the obstacles he had overcome, the hardships that had shaped him into the man he was today.


    Lost in his thoughts, Youn-Jae stared at the view, a storm of emotions swirling within him, until the sound of three firm knocks on the door jolted him back to the present. Secretary Min entered, breaking the silence, his posture respectful but alert, as if ready to assist at any moment.


    ¡°President, what would you like for lunch? I can drive you wherever you¡¯d like,¡± Secretary Min offered, his tone both respectful and attentive, his eyes scanning Youn-Jae¡¯s face for any sign of fatigue or need.


    ¡°Oh, can we keep it light? Maybe a coffee shop with some pastries?¡± Youn-Jae replied, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia for the tastes of Germany. He absentmindedly fiddled with his watch, a subconscious gesture of yearning for the familiar comforts of home.


    ¡°Of course, President. I¡¯ll have the car ready and wait for you in the lobby,¡± Secretary Min nodded, discreetly making his exit to prepare for their departure. As he closed the door, his expression held a mix of understanding and patience, knowing well the weight Youn-Jae carried on his shoulders.


    Left alone once more, Youn-Jae leaned against the cool glass of the window, his gaze returning to the skyline. Memories washed over him, haunting yet familiar echoes of laughter and shadowed corners of his past, moments he thought he had buried. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, lost in the turbulent waters of reminiscence.


    The story doesn''t end here......