The Next Morning
Only the faint clink of cutlery against porcelain broke the silence in the Hwan family dining room. No glances were exchanged, no small talk—just the quiet weight of formality.
Finally, Mr. Hwan's deep voice cut through the still air.
"Your mother and I are proud that you listened to us and decided to come back home," he said, his lips curling into a stern, practiced smile.
Min-jae didn't look up from his plate.
"Mr. Noh has prepared a list of ladies from respectable families. Make sure you meet them all before you leave again."
This time, Min-jae's gaze lifted, locking with his father's.
"I've told you before—I'm not interested in marriage. Especially not with some girl you picked for me."
"Min-jae!" Mrs. Hwan's sharp tone filled the room.
"Let him be," Mr. Hwan said curtly, but his eyes never softened. "I'll give you six months. Find a suitable bride on your own, or you will marry Mr. Shin's daughter."
Without another word, he pushed his chair back and strode out.
Mrs. Hwan turned to her son, voice lowering. "Just listen to your father. He only wants what's best for you."
Min-jae's reply was ice-cold. "If what's best for me is a marriage like yours… then I'm not interested."
He rose, gave her a brief bow, and walked away before she could respond.
---
A short while later, Min-jae sat behind his office desk, eyes scanning a thick document. His attention didn't waver until the door opened and Ga-young stepped in, a cup of coffee in hand. She froze for half a second, clearly not expecting him to already be there.
"Good morning, sir," she said, her tone more confident than the flustered woman he'd met yesterday.
Min-jae looked up slowly. "Good morning, Ms. Choi. Do you have a reason for coming in late today?" He questioned, his eyes never leaving the paper.
"My apologies—there was heavy traffic."
"You're aware this is the busiest time of the year for the roads," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he read her expression. "Leave earlier than usual from now on."
"Yes, sir." She placed the coffee on his desk, hesitated, then blurted, "Min-jae!"
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"I just… wanted to apologize for what happened before. I hope we can move past it and not make things awkward between us."
"So what are you suggesting?" he asked, voice unreadable.
"We've had our differences. Just… please don't treat me badly because of them. It would be better if we acted like we never knew each other."
Min-jae's lips curved into a faint scoff. Removing his glasses, he stood, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps.
"Ga-young… what do you take me for?" His voice was low, almost amused.
She swallowed, her composure faltering. "Min-jae—"
"Ah, I see. You think I came here just to torment you," he said with a quiet chuckle. "Not such a bad idea, actually."
She instinctively stepped back, only to be stopped by the edge of the table. Her hands trembled. His face hovered inches from hers. She shut her eyes tightly—
And then… nothing.
"I'm not interested in such games," he said, stepping away. "As long as you do your work well and show up on time, I don't care."
He sat back down, slipping his glasses on again. "And from now on, it's 'Mr. Min-jae.'"
For reasons she couldn't quite name, her heart sank. She'd wanted distance, yet his easy agreement made her feel oddly… hollow.
"Yes, Mr. Min-jae," she murmured.
"I reviewed some documents. The former CEO had an unfinished project," Min-jae said, scanning another page.
"Yes, sir—his grand project. Project Makeover."
"I want it cancelled. I won't carry someone else's vision."
"But sir, it's already in progress," she argued, surprising even herself.
"I'm not interested."
"Mr. Min-jae… I understand you want a fresh start, but this project is worth reconsidering."
He studied her for a moment. "Who's in charge?"
"Team 5."
"Schedule a meeting. If they can convince me it's worth keeping, fine. If not—scrap it."
"Yes, sir."
---
Later, the conference room sat in tense silence as Min-jae flipped through the proposal. The others exchanged nervous glances, but no one dared to speak until Ji-hye broke in.
"What do you think?"
Min-jae looked up. "I'm not convinced."
Ji-hye scoffed. "This project could skyrocket us ahead of the competition."
"How so, Head Manager Ji-hye?" he asked coolly.
Mr. Han, the assistant manager, interjected before tension could boil over. "Mr. Shin started this project due to the rising number of foreigners in Korea."
Mrs. Kim added, "Yes—many have complained our cosmetics are too light for their skin tones."
"According to Mr. Shin, meeting customer needs is our most important duty," Ji-hye said with a careful smile.
Min-jae leaned forward, his tone final. "Two weeks. Bring me results that convince me this is worth pursuing—or it's over."
"We'll do our best, sir," Mr. Han replied quickly, cutting off Ji-hye before she could argue.
"Then we're done here. Get back to work."
"Yes, sir," they said in unison before filing out.
The conference room emptied until only Ga-young remained, gathering her notes in silence.
Min-jae closed the project file and straightened in his chair. "Ms. Choi."
She froze. "Yes, Mr. Min-jae?"
His eyes locked on hers—steady, unblinking. "Clear my schedule for Saturday evening. My father's arranged a list of candidates. I'll be meeting them."
Her grip on the papers tightened. "…You mean blind dates?"
"This is a serious affair for my father," he said, his tone like stone. "I expect you to make the calls and confirm everything. Personally."
She swallowed, forcing her voice steady. "Understood, sir."
Min-jae stood, gathering the documents into a precise stack. "Good. Don't keep them waiting."
He walked past her, his presence heavy in the air. She exhaled only when the door shut behind him—her chest tight, the echo of his words sinking deeper than she wanted to admit.