FTC Chapter 1(Part 2)

A bitter scent of cigarette smoke trailed down her throat.

Hyunju was still at the front of the cathedral, busy seeing off the remaining guests. She had disappeared for about ten minutes earlier, only to return and resume her role as if nothing had happened. How long could she keep up this performance? Thirty years seemed long enough for someone to grow tired of a script.

Taking a deep drag, Seoyeon watched her mother, draped in white, greeting people with the serene smile of a saint. Naturally, there was not a trace of sorrow on her face for her late husband. Instead, she simply thanked each guest for attending, and if someone happened to express more grief than she did, she would summon tears in less than five seconds.

Seoyeon knew better than anyone—those tears weren’t real.

When had she realized this?

Since she was twenty? Since she uncovered the chilling truth that every single one of her mother’s actions had a purpose? That even her own existence, her own life—

Was nothing more than a calculated move.

Seoyeon’s gaze drifted to the corner of the incineration yard. There, abandoned like unwanted junk, stood a full-length mirror of an awkward, in-between size. Her reflection stared back at her. She took in the image before her—herself, cigarette between her lips. A pure white veil. A striking cobalt blue dress. Long, flowing brown hair.

Unfortunately, this is unmistakably Go Hyunju’s daughter, Baek Seoyeon.

Be good. Be proper. Set an example. Because you’re my daughter.

“Hah.”

Thin wisps of smoke curled out from beneath the veil.

If nothing else, at least she had grown up exactly as expected. The once-naïve girl had become a sharp, worldly woman—one who had seen the blackened underside of her parents’ empire and was now plotting her escape.

Seoyeon studied herself in the mirror. Her appearance, her education, her life, her very personality—was there a single thing about her that hadn’t been shaped according to her mother’s desires?

A faint sound of footsteps.

Steady. Unhurried.

Someone was approaching the incineration yard—an area usually deserted.

Seoyeon turned her head toward the sound. Most mourners would have gone straight to the parking lot after leaving the cathedral. This was strange.

That bad guy.

Their eyes met.

Dressed entirely in black, the man seemed as if he had stepped out of pure darkness—so unlike the pristine white business card he had handed her.

So, he still hadn’t left. Odd. They had exchanged greetings a while ago.

She had no desire to get entangled with him. A man with an aura this ominous didn’t even need to speak—she could already tell what kind of person he was.

Jaebin didn’t stop walking, heading straight toward the incineration yard. Seoyeon stubbed out her cigarette, ready to brush past him and return to the cathedral.

Or at least, she tried.

“…I’m not really into chain smokers.”

As Seoyeon was about to brush past him, a fresh cigarette blocked her path. It was his.

Without hesitation, he replied.

“Liar.”

She turned back to look at him. The pristine business card she had just seen seemed to float past his face.

Domok CEO, Woo Jaebin.

The name surfaced in her mind a beat too late, and she let out a slow breath. Her hand, which had been hanging in midair, finally gave in and snatched the white cigarette from him.

“You’re… sharp.”

The cigarette slipped between her red lips. Just as she was about to light it herself, Jaebin casually lit it for her. Seoyeon shot him a glare before taking a deep drag.

Who are you, really?

“You work with the company, don’t you? Your face looks familiar.”

“I gave you my card, didn’t I?”

A brief silence followed.

His gaze lingered on hers a little too long—sharp like a snake’s, yet loyal like a wolf’s. It suited his broad, solid build, and yet, somehow, it didn’t.

Most of all—

That eerie, unabashed way he had scanned her from head to toe.

“…Have you ever killed someone?”

“…”

“You seem like a professional.”

Jaebin smirked.

He’s laughing?

Seoyeon stared at him, unamused.

“People who know, know. That Domok was built by gangsters.”

Domok.

At her words, wisps of gray smoke wavered in the air.

“You’re sharp.”

Jaebin echoed her earlier words, his low voice settling deep into the silence of the incineration yard. Their smoke intertwined in the air. Now that she had confirmed the truth, she could almost swear she smelled blood on him.

His lips curved into a faint smile.

“Got any more guesses?”

“…”

“Like why I came here today.”

What the hell is he talking about?

Seoyeon studied his eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a liar.

No, actually—he seemed like the kind of man who could lie without so much as a flicker of hesitation.

Even with just a few exchanged words, she could already tell.

A veteran.

“Oh. So you didn’t come here because my father died?”

“No.”

He answered without a second’s hesitation.

Seoyeon chuckled and folded her arms.

Now this is interesting.

“You found me fast. You were the only one glowing blue.”

Glowing.

Her lips parted slightly.

Jaebin took another drag, then reached into the crisp, wrinkle-free suit covering his solid frame.

He pulled something out.

A ring box.

A black velvet case, a perfect match for him.

Seoyeon’s eyes widened.

Jaebin flipped it open without a word.

Against the pitch-black interior, the diamond ring gleamed like a lone white dwarf in the night sky.

Wait.

What the hell?

“What are you doing?”

He exhaled a long stream of smoke.

“Proposing.”

It didn’t take long for reality to sink in.

A man holding out what looked like a five-carat diamond ring, cigarette still in his mouth, calling it a proposal.

This ridiculous scene.

And yet—this was real.

Seoyeon was so speechless that she let out a short, incredulous laugh.

What the hell is this?

She instinctively glanced around, as if looking for an answer.

And then—

“…”

From the front of the cathedral, Hyunju was watching.

Welcoming the last few mourners, her eyes locked onto them.

The ring, foolishly bright, shone even from that far away.

—

The car had been running for fifteen minutes, yet not a single word had been spoken inside.

The silence was familiar, but tonight, something felt off.

And perhaps, it should.

Their father. Her husband.

He had died.

And yet, the mother and daughter sat together without tears, without even a word of condolence.

Anyone would find it strange.

However, it wasn’t surprising. If anything, she had expected her mother to forgo even holding a funeral. How humiliating it must be—for the chairman of a conglomerate to die just three months after his diagnosis. For Go Hyunju, the vice chairman who staked her life on reputation, image, and honor.

To Seoyeon, the most surprising thing was how unaffected her mother seemed by her father’s death.

Now that she thought about it, even this unnecessarily grand funeral was a decision typical of her mother. It was a perfect opportunity to further solidify the image of a virtuous and respectable wife. Perhaps she even saw it as a stroke of luck. Chilling. Seoyeon shivered as she gazed out the window.

 

“Fifteen.”

“….”

“The number of articles written today thanks to your trashy outfit. Fifteen.”

“….”

“Five million won each.”

The Han River swallowed the setting sun. The driver pressed the accelerator deeper.

“Those reporters must be thrilled. Thanks to you running your mouth, they get a payday from me.”

Seoyeon watched the sky outside turn redder. Her blue dress, the headlines—none of it had been part of her mother’s calculations. That alone made her feel exhilarated. But knowing her mother, she would find a way to spin it to her advantage.

Sure enough, Hyunju handled it exactly as Seoyeon expected. Swiftly, cleanly. There wasn’t a single article anywhere about the late Chairman Baek Jinwoong’s only daughter showing up to his funeral in an inappropriate outfit. The dozens of flashing cameras that had captured her earlier were nothing more than reporters scrambling for her mother’s hush money.

“Are you planning to show up at next week’s dinner without underwear? Or maybe covered in blood from one of your little self-harm episodes?”

“Oh? So there’s a dinner next week that I wasn’t informed about?”

Since she was a child, Hyunju had dragged Seoyeon to these events without asking for her opinion. To her, it was simply expected. As a vice chairman, when a business partner requested that she bring her daughter along, there was no need to ask if her daughter wanted to come. These events were just an extension of business, and Seoyeon was a tool—an accessory. If she showed up alone, it might put the slightest dent in Hyunju’s carefully curated image of a ‘family-oriented woman.’

 

And so, this dinner, one she hadn’t even been told about, was no different. Seoyeon had refused to attend such events since high school, but now she was back to being a puppet—expected to go where she was told and smile on command.

That was the price of being the daughter of Mare Group.

“Doesn’t your face hurt? From smiling all day, playing the role of the ever-gracious wife?”

The driver cleared his throat. Probably the hundredth time he’d done so today.

“You must be happy. Dad’s dead, so you got to see a lot of people you haven’t in a while. Even handed out gifts.”

“….”

“Use my father’s death. Act like you’re grieving. Smile a lot. Pretend to be heartbroken. That way, you can finally start your political career, right?”

Hyunju slowly blinked.

“Chairman Baek Jinwoong would have gladly sacrificed himself for you, wouldn’t he, Mother?”

 

The car merged onto Olympic Boulevard. The women’s bodies swayed slightly with the vehicle’s steady speed.

At the word “politics,” Hyunju’s face twitched ever so slightly. That was her weak spot. The dream, ambition, and obsession that consumed her.

Politics.

“Pull over.”

The driver skillfully turned the wheel. The sedan rolled to a stop on the shoulder. Without a word, the driver got out.

As soon as the door shut behind him, a suffocating silence settled between mother and daughter once more.

“You should’ve let those articles be. I wore this outfit for that very reason.”

“Those arrows would have hit everyone in the company.”

“Do the employees know? What kind of people you two really are?”

“….”

“They’re all going to be discarded within a year anyway.”

“….”

“You think I wouldn’t find out about your plans to hand over the company to President Park?”

Hyunju and Jinwoong had never intended for this company to be a family legacy. Their sole goal had always been to enter the political world.

 

That’s why Seoyeon wanted nothing to do with Mare Group.

What she truly despised, however, was her mother’s ambition. Her attitude.

Thousands of employees worked under them, but not one of them knew the truth. That the two figures they respected—Go Hyunju and Baek Jinwoong—had never seen this company as anything more than a stepping stone to politics. That most of the company’s revenue had been funneled into their rotten, backroom dealings.

“Twenty years from now, you’ll be president, right? Yet you act like some kind-hearted saint when you plan to throw all of this away anyway.”

“….”

“Go on. Make an excuse. Any excuse.”