WW | Chapter 27

The place where Yoonjo stopped was in front of a house surrounded by walls that looked like a fortress. As he opened the door and entered, he saw men in black suits stationed all around the garden. Since his father, who injured his leg at a construction site, spent more time at home, he had no choice but to constantly encounter these guys.

Thugs disguised as bodyguards.

The men, spotting Yoonjo, bent slightly in silent greeting. Ignoring them, he passed by and went inside.

A woman sitting in the living room noticed him and stood up in surprise. Tall and slender, with fair skin and a pretty face. She looked young—at most, twenty-three or twenty-four. She wore a peach-colored chiffon dress that suited her pure, fresh image. A perfect match for his father’s taste. He wasn’t sure how many women had come after his mother’s death.

“Oh, hello,” the woman said, widening her eyes as if surprised to see Yoonjo. She brushed back her hair awkwardly, letting it fall again as their gazes met as if by chance. She knew her charm and wasn’t afraid to use it, more cunning than the previous women he’d seen. Not that it would fool his father, a sly old fox.

“You’re the boss’s son, right? You’re even cooler than I’d heard. I was taken aback,” she said, showing off her gleaming white teeth. She didn’t seem ashamed of being sponsored by a man thirty years her senior. Then again, if she had any shame, she wouldn’t have met his father in the first place. Even thinking about it irritated him, as his deceased mother inevitably came to mind.

Yoonjo ignored her and walked past, even as she grabbed his arm in surprise. He didn’t look back.

There was another man in a suit outside the study. However, he was slightly different from the others—his father’s elite chief secretary. As Yoonjo approached, Choi Seongwoo, the secretary, nodded slightly in greeting.

“You’ve arrived. Executive Director Yoo is inside.”

“Just let him know I’m home.”

There wasn’t much to say between the two of them. As Yoonjo turned to leave, the man stopped him.

“Please go in. He asked to be informed when you arrived.”

Without regard for Yoonjo’s opinion, the secretary knocked on the study door. Whoever was inside knew he was there, as a voice immediately called him in without asking who it was. Yoonjo concealed his reluctance and stepped inside as the man opened the door for him.

“Oh, Yoonjo, it’s been a while.”

The man who greeted him first was Yoo Jeongtae, seated on the sofa next to his father, Kang Jinseok. Yoo was the Executive Director of LK Construction and, along with Gu Hyeonsang, the President of LK Entertainment, one of Jinseok’s closest allies. The two had gone through blood-soaked battles together to take control of the organization by toppling those in power. Yoonjo had known them since childhood, so he treated them almost like family. Usually, his father, Jeongtae, and Hyeonsang would meet, but today, it was only Jeongtae.

“Hello, Uncle?”

Yoonjo bowed to his father, Kang Jinseok, before replying to the Executive Director.

“Same as always. I’ve been hearing about you from Kahi. You know our Kahi is transferring, right?”

“Yes, I heard.”

“She said you made her school life easier. Let’s have a meal together sometime.”

“Yes.”

Yoonjo responded politely with a slight bow. Jeongtae looked pleased, like a father admiring his son, and then stood up.

“I’ll be going now, President.”

“Alright. Meet with President Seogwang and Bo-yun and talk things over properly again.”

“Yes.”

“Now that the investment is secured and the dates are set, they’re probably losing their minds. If they keep resisting, show no mercy.”

“Understood. What about President Gu?”

“Ah, that damn bastard.”

Jinseok’s face twisted at Jeongtae’s question. For a moment, he looked like a seasoned businessman sitting seriously in his chair, but as his emotions flared, his true rough nature came out. This was why people said people never really change. Yoonjo watched his father with detached eyes.

“Leave him for now. Don’t mention the plan to him.”

“Yes.”

Jeongtae bowed his head, then raised his hand to Yoonjo.

“See you again, Yoonjo.”

“Goodbye, Uncle.”

Yoonjo stood up to bow and then sat back down.

“Are you doing well in school?” Jinseok asked, resting his casted leg on a footstool as he looked at Yoonjo. Pretending to be a father interested in his son’s education was a clear indication that he had something to say. The best tactic in these situations was to keep answers brief and avoid prolonging the conversation.

“Yes.”

“You’re good at answering, I’ll give you that. Heard you were dead last in the last test?”

“I’m sorry.”

“How does a kid who never missed the top of the class end up at the bottom? Cut out the rebellion. Enough time has passed. You should start forgetting things by now.”

“…”

Yoonjo had intended to humor him briefly and leave, but that wasn’t possible this time. Jinseok’s words held multiple meanings, each poking at the scar of Yoonjo’s lingering resentment. Your mother’s death wasn’t your fault. You killed in self-defense, so let it go. Why are you so weak, stuck in the past like this?

It was true that his past had taken away his reason to live. But whether the shock from back then still lingered, as his father said, was unclear. The days when he thought he’d die were gone, and his memories had blurred as if mosaicked over. Instead, life lost its color, and he had no desire to do anything. His emotions lay buried so deep that he only felt sleepy all the time. Lately, there had been slight changes, though.

But even so, his father’s words grated on him. Perhaps because all the misfortune seemed to stem from him.

“If you act like this when you study abroad, I won’t forgive you.”

“Yes,” Yoonjo answered flatly, suppressing his emotions.

“That’s why you should do well here so you can get into college.”

“…”

“When are you leaving? Chief Choi said it’d be best to go in the winter.”

“I’ll go in spring since I’ll be repeating a year anyway.”

It was near his mother’s memorial date. Since he wouldn’t know when he’d be back, he planned to attend it before leaving. He was only going because he was told to. The thought of studying, let alone attending college, meant nothing to him.

He had no intention of going to college, anyway.

“You know how I got to where I am, right?”

“Yes.”

Of course, he knew. Jinseok had drilled it into him a hundred times, how he’d clawed his way up to his current position with nothing but his fists, having neither wealth nor education.

“With my brains, this is as far as I go. I can expand the company, but I don’t have the mind to stabilize and legitimize it. That part’s up to you.”

“Yes.”

“Now, get out.”

Jinseok clicked his tongue as he lowered his injured leg. Yoonjo, ready to leave, blurted out the words he’d been holding back.

“Don’t bring women into the house.”

“Don’t mind her. She just wanted to see your mom’s studio, so I brought her.”

Yoonjo’s face, usually blank, twisted at those words. His voice, no longer respectful, was cold and cutting.

“Why should she see Mom’s studio?”

“She’s an art student. Said she respects your mom.”

“Ha, damn it.”

“What did you just say?”

Jinseok rose, eyes blazing at Yoonjo’s curse. He was a man who had lived in a world that did not tolerate insubordination. Even if it was his son, raw rebellion was hard to bear.

“If that girl sets a single foot in Mom’s studio, I’ll burn this entire place to the ground.”

“How dare you, talking like that to your father!”

“Aren’t you ashamed? Or is that how you honor your memories with Mom?”

Yoonjo sneered, twisting his lips. His mother, once an orphan, had also been sponsored by Jinseok.

Unlike other gangsters, he preferred refined, intelligent women—those who were fair-skinned, dignified, and genteel. He wanted a woman under his control. Mo Yeonsu, Yoonjo’s mother, was the one who caught his eye. She was talented in art but had no money to pursue it, so she had given up. On her first night working at a bar, Jinseok snatched her away. He provided her with college, a home, money, even sent her abroad to study—after registering their marriage and having Yoonjo as leverage.

“Don’t insult your mother.”

“How ironic. If you truly cherished her, you should have protected her. Instead, you let her die and keep bringing other women here. Hypocrite.”

Back then, Jinseok had been struggling to assert power in the organization. While he was confronting his rivals, his enemies targeted his family. Yoonjo, trained from a young age, held them off with a knife until Jinseok and his men arrived just in time. But it was too late; Yeonsu was already gone.

“If you’d let her go, she might still be alive.”

Perhaps if he’d allowed her to pursue her art overseas, as she wanted, she would have survived.

Jinseok, who had looked ready to hit him, slowly relaxed his clenched fist. Supporting himself on the armrest, he slowly stood, leaning on his good leg as he gripped the back of Yoonjo’s neck tightly.

“I always get what I want, dead or alive. Do you think you’re any different from me?”

Jinseok, openly revealing his true nature, bound Yoonjo to himself. He was so disgusted he wanted to sneer, but his mouth wouldn’t open.

“Was it really I who held onto your mother, or was it you?”