The office was a cathedral of silence—only the clack of keys and the soft hum of the air conditioner filled it.
Ga-young sat at her desk, eyes lost in the glow of her monitor, while Min-jae reviewed documents with surgical precision, his expression as unreadable as glass.
Then—
The door burst open.
The sound echoed like a gunshot through the room.
Normally, such an entrance could only belong to Ji-hye, but today… it wasn't her.
The man who entered wore audacity like perfume. Ji-uk strolled in with sunglasses reflecting the sterile office light, his every step rehearsed to command attention. He took his time—each movement measured, calculated, deliberate.
Ga-young rose instinctively, bowing.
Min-jae didn't even blink.
Ji-uk stopped before his desk, pulling off his shades with dramatic precision, revealing eyes that carried equal parts charm and trouble.
Min-jae didn't look up. "What do you want?"
Ji-uk smirked. "Can we talk?"
"We already are."
The reply sliced clean through the tension.
Ga-young moved to excuse herself, but Ji-uk's hand shot out, palm up.
"Why are you leaving?" he asked smoothly, tilting his head with a faux-innocent smile. "I'm not here to bite. Keep working—I won't take long."
Min-jae sighed, finally raising his head, his gaze sharp enough to peel away Ji-uk's confidence. "What do you want to talk about?"
Ji-uk smiled the kind of smile that always meant trouble. "I'm hosting a tasting event."
"I'm not interested," Min-jae said flatly, flipping a page.
"Hyung!" Ji-uk groaned dramatically. "This is the first time I've ever asked you for a favor. Can't you be a little sentimental?"
"A tasting event?" Min-jae's tone turned to ice. "You're throwing a party for a stolen menu?"
Ji-uk's lips twitched. "It wasn't on purpose! One of my employees—"
"—made a mistake," Min-jae cut in, finishing the sentence. "And you covered it up by firing the victim. How noble."
Ji-uk's jaw tightened. "What do you want me to do, Hyung? I tried everything."
Min-jae leaned back, removed his glasses, and placed them gently on the desk. "You don't have to do anything. I've already handled it. Next time, try not to let your incompetence become a headline."
Ji-uk's eyes widened. "You—fixed it?" His face lit up instantly. "Hyung!" He exclaimed covering his mouth "you do love me!"
"I did it," Min-jae said coolly, "because if your division falls, it drags the company down with it."
Ji-uk pressed a hand to his heart theatrically. "I'll take that as affection." He leaned closer. "So… about my tasting event?"
"Ask Ye-seul."
Ji-uk scoffed. "That witch? She'd rather die. And I can't even ask Namjoon Hyung—he's knee-deep in his divorce."
Min-jae's brows lifted slightly. "Divorce?"
Ji-uk smirked. "You didn't know? Oh, Hyung, you really need to keep up, that's why you need me. Seo-ra finally crossed the line." Then, with a sidelong glance at Ga-young, "You don't gossip, do you?"
Before she could reply, Min-jae interrupted coldly, "I'll think about it."
Ji-uk's face brightened. "Really? See, this is why you're the best."
"You may leave."
Ji-uk chuckled. "Of course, my lovely Hyung." He turned toward the door, pausing dramatically. "Don't miss the family dinner tonight. It's going to be… eventful."
He left with the same arrogance he arrived with.
Silence stretched once more.
"Divorce," Min-jae muttered under his breath, his mind already spinning.
Moments later, the door slammed open again—Ji-hye, as usual, without an ounce of subtlety.
"Was that CEO Ji-uk?" she asked, still halfway through the doorway.
Ga-young nodded.
Ji-hye tilted her head. "That's rare. Anyway—" She turned to Min-jae. "I heard Mrs. Hwan was sick?"
"She's better now," Min-jae replied.
Ji-hye exhaled, hand over her chest. "Thank God. I was worried when Ye-seul didn't come in today."
"She's taking a day with Mother," Min-jae said, his tone calm but distant.
Ji-hye nodded. "I see. I'd have visited, but my mother insists I go receive my brother."
"Yun-ho's back from military service already?" Ga-young asked, surprised.
"Unfortunately." Ji-hye sighed. "Anyway, my regards to Mrs. Hwan and you two, don't miss lunch okay?" She questioned in a motherly tone.
Ga-young nodded "Yes! Mrs. Hyun-woo" she teased.
Ji-hye smiled and turned and exited, her shoulders slumped in dramatic exhaustion.
---
Meanwhile…
The light in Namjoon's office was dim, filtered through expensive blinds.
Mr. Daniel Han his long-time lawyer stood in front of the desk, bowing slightly.
Namjoon didn't look up immediately. When he did, his eyes were dark, sharp and haunted. "Is it finalized?"
Daniel hesitated. "Sir, are you sure this is the right way to handle it? If I may, you're reacting emotionally—"
Namjoon's palm slammed against the desk. "Just do as I said! I didn't ask for your advice!"
Daniel adjusted his tie with professional restraint. "Your wife made a scene at the hotel today, sir. She accused you of trying to take her daughter. Videos went viral—we managed to pull some down, but…"
Namjoon froze. His knuckles whitened.
Daniel continued. "Because of the scandal, Maple Seoul has withdrawn their partnership. ST Enterprise Mrs. Seo-ra's family company too—they say the marriage contract is unstable. We've dropped to seventh place on the business charts."
Namjoon stood abruptly, sending his chair crashing backward. "I was this close," he hissed, pounding the table. "THIS close!"
He swept everything off his desk—papers, mugs, glass—until the floor was littered with fury.
"She'll pay," he whispered, shaking. "They'll all pay."
"Sir—" his secretary's voice quavered as she entered.
"What?!" Namjoon roared, hurling a mug that barely missed her face.
"The chairman demands your presence immediately," she said quickly, bowing before fleeing.
Namjoon stood there for a moment, chest heaving. Then he ran a hand through his hair, eyes glinting with wrath. "Fuck," he growled.
---
Minutes later, he was kneeling in front of his father's massive desk—the air heavy, the silence suffocating.
Chairman Hwan didn't look up from his papers. He turned a page. Then another.
Finally: "Leave us," he said, and Mr. Noh obediently bowed and exited.
The chairman exhaled softly. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Namjoon's voice trembled. "I apologize, Father. I'll fix everything—"
"How?" Chairman Hwan's eyes flicked up, cold and merciless. "You can't even control your wife. You think I called you here because your division is falling apart?"
Namjoon's lips parted, but no sound came.
"You've done more damage to this family's name than to your company," the chairman continued. "And you stand here with no plan. No dignity. No spine."
"Father—"
"Enough." Chairman Hwan's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I told you before, you're not fit to be heir and now… you've proven it beyond doubt."
Namjoon's fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. His throat burned with words he couldn't say.
"Leave my sight," the chairman said, each syllable deliberate.
Namjoon's composure shattered for half a second, his jaw trembling, before he bowed deeply. "Yes, Father."
He turned, shoulders rigid, eyes glossy with the kind of rage that doesn't cool—it calcifies.
The door closed behind him with a sound that could have been a heartbeat—or the death of one.