“So, Ji-woo,” the voice from the phone continued, a sharp edge to the tone. “I made myself clear the first day we met.”
Ji-woo’s thoughts tangled in confusion. “You have my full support,” the voice said. “I will send resources, of course. I don’t care if you’ve made my brother a hospital employee, a housekeeper, or your personal toy. Just don’t forget what you have to do.”
“I’ll catch the real criminal and put him in your place.”
“Do your best to keep him inside Cheongdo.”
His words echoed in her memory, and her face hardened. She murmured an affirmative, her skin gone pale. Seo Tae-joon’s gaze flickered from the phone to Ji-woo’s strained expression. A sigh of frustration escaped him.
“Why are you giving my wife orders?” he snapped into the phone, his voice laced with annoyance. “If you’re going to say something so stupid, don’t bother calling her again!”
On the other end of the line, Seo Ki-seok smirked. His brother’s voice was so innocent, so unlike the ferocious, reckless man he’d been before the accident. The youngest son of the feared Seo family. The dear brother he had raised. The old Seo Tae-joon had refused all aid from his parents, always gritting his teeth and drawing a hard line between himself and everyone else.
But this Seo Tae-joon sounded like a tamed animal.
“Director Jo.”
“Yes, sir,” Jo Kyung-cheon bowed, his shoulders stooped as if under an immense, physical weight. It was a posture he’d held since the first time he’d visited this place in a school uniform.
The estate was a sprawling compound composed of dozens of traditional hanok.
From a distance, the black roof tiles, layered like waves, looked as peaceful as a flock of resting cranes. But the deeper one ventured into the compound, the more suffocating the atmosphere became. It felt like stepping into the mouth of a serpent.
The Seo family. A name that was only ever whispered in fear.
They were one of the three major real estate forces in Daehan, an organization with enormous economic power and the true center of the Blue House that dominated the nation’s shadows. It was said that Seo Ki-seok’s grandfather had built his empire by lending money to small companies desperate for capital. The money he invested had doubled, then tripled, growing into tens of billions of dollars.
After eighty years, the Seo family had become so powerful that they were the forerunners of nearly every large corporation in the Republic of Daehan. They had established themselves as an unwavering, authoritative shadow hanging over the country.
Stories were still whispered about Chairman Seo giving up an entire property for the Central Intelligence Agency and loaning them his personal “hunting dogs,” the Blue Falcons.
The agency’s name changed—from the court to the National Security Agency and back to the National Intelligence Service—but the hounds remained. They formed a private organization, under the president's direct control, responsible for cleaning up the nation's messes.
The president might be smart, but Chairman Seo was smarter. He had secured his place as a major shareholder in their operations, managing it all without ever leaving his mansion.
The influence of the Seo family, managed unwaveringly for nearly a century, was stronger than ever. Their business, at its core, was lending money. Chairman Seo had enjoyed his dirty work, but he had nurtured the country’s elites more than anyone else.
He thirsted to expand his influence beyond the compound’s walls and into the outside world. To that end, he supported brilliant children from poor families, providing them with a top-tier education. In this way, the Seo family raised legions of loyalists to dominate every facet of society. It was how they maintained their power.
Jo Kyung-cheon had been one of those children.
“Director, I apologize for what happened.”
“No, sir. It is I who must apologize. I never imagined Hwang Jo-yoon would cause such trouble.”
“I heard he was your favorite student.”
“I once entertained the idea of training him. He showed potential. That is all.”
Years ago, during his undergraduate studies, Jo Kyung-cheon had discovered Hwang Jo-yoon cultivating illegal drugs. He’d thought he could mold the young man, perhaps even entrust him with the drug cultivation operation in Cheongdo. But all that effort had gone to waste, undone by Hwang Jo-yoon’s recklessness. The moment he’d learned his protégé was involved in a mess connected to Director Seo, he had cut him loose.
“Is it proceeding well?” Seo Ki-seok asked.
After Chairman Seo’s death, Seo Ki-seok’s father had broken family tradition and stepped into the light, his company swallowing the struggling Hydrangea Pharmaceutical Co. Ltd.
“Yes. Everything is going very smoothly.”
“No one must know about the rare plant.”
“Yes, sir. I will keep that in mind,” Jo Kyung-cheon said, bowing his head again. An image flashed through his mind: the researchers Seo Ki-seok had made disappear, one after another, to ensure confidentiality. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
“Cheongdo is very important.”
There wasn't a corner of the island that the Seo family’s power did not reach. The entirety of Cheongdo served as a useful incinerator for the family’s problems.
“You have to win the Cheongdome project,” Seo Ki-seok stated.
Jo Kyung-cheon understood. It wasn’t a request or a wish for his success. It was a command. He had to win.
“Has he been treating you like that all this time?” Seo Tae-joon asked, his thumb caressing the back of the hand he held. Ji-woo’s face was still ghostly pale. “Why do you even put up with them?”
He didn’t understand why she bowed her head to that man’s words, why she tried so hard to be polite. He wasn’t her boss.
“I… it’s just… He’s never come here. And he’s never said anything bad to me before. He only calls about once a month. Don’t worry about it.”
Seo Tae-joon let out a sigh. “This is all because of me, isn’t it? Because I don’t remember anything.”
“What?”
“My family looks down on you because they know I can’t protect you. I just… I feel like I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry, Ji-woo.”
A sharp prick of guilt pierced her conscience. She was in no position to accept his apology, not when she had brought this all on herself with a web of lies.
“Did you already know my family was like that?” he asked.
“I… I didn’t know in the beginning,” Ji-woo answered slowly, avoiding his gaze.
“Did I… hide my family background when I approached you?” His voice was hesitant, his eyes questioning. “I can tell from his voice alone that my brother is lacking as a human being. Did I deceive you to get you to marry me?”
“No…” Ji-woo said, wanting to reassure him but not knowing how. “We didn’t know much about each other’s families when we got married. And I… I didn’t bring it up…”
Seo Tae-joon squeezed her hand, his expression softening with sadness. “I feel like I owe you so much.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I feel like I’m somehow responsible for all the hardships you’re facing,” he said. He lowered his forehead to the back of her hand, and his heavy breath warmed her skin.
He wasn’t wrong. Her life had become a series of terrifying incidents after she met him. She had lived in constant fear. But still, hearing him admit it made her eyes well with tears.