The heavy double doors of the Hwan mansion groaned open, spilling golden light into the marble-lined foyer. Min-jae stepped inside, the faint scent of jasmine and polished wood curling around him—the kind of wealth that spoke softly but suffocated all the same. His gaze lifted to the chandelier, glittering like a thousand frozen stars.
Then came the sound—quick, deliberate taps of tiny slippers.
From behind a pillar, a girl no older than seven strutted out as if she were the lady of the house. Her dress was a frothy pink confection, her chin tipped high, arms crossed with the imperious confidence of a monarch.
"You," she declared, big eyes narrowing with playful mischief. "Who said you could come in here?"
Min-jae arched a brow, faintly amused. "The butler."
"Well, he's fired." She tapped her slipper, glaring up at him. "Do you always march into people's homes like you own the place, or are you just lost?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Neither. I was invited."
"Invited?" Her laugh was sharp, mocking in a way that was far too adult for her small frame. "By who? Mom? Dad? They invite boring people all the time. But you…" She leaned closer, studying him with unnerving seriousness. "You don't look boring. You look… dangerous."
Min-jae chuckled low. "Dangerous? Should I take that as a compliment?"
"Depends," she shot back. "Can you survive a tea party without crying when you lose? That's the real test."
He tilted his head, more intrigued than he cared to admit. "And who exactly are you?"
"She's the heir of the Hwan family," came a voice that slipped through the air like a knife wrapped in silk.
The sharp click of heels echoed across the marble. Seo-ra emerged from the shadows, her presence draining the warmth from the room. She was breathtaking—sharp cheekbones, lips painted a poisonous crimson, obsidian eyes gleaming like a drawn blade. Beauty clung to her like silk, but it was the cruel kind—designed to cut.
"Hello, Min-jae," she purred, stopping just close enough to challenge him.
"Mother!" the little girl gasped, tugging at her gown. "Do you know this man?"
Seo-ra's smirk curled higher. "Kira, darling, this is your uncle Min-jae. Show some respect."
At once, the girl's manner shifted. She peeked from behind her mother, voice softer, more proper. "Hello, Uncle. I'm Kira Namjoon. Pleasure to meet you." And just like that, she darted away down the corridor, her laughter trailing like bells.
Min-jae's gaze darkened as it settled back on Seo-ra. He turned as if to walk past her, but she blocked the path, lips glistening with mischief.
"Word travels fast," she whispered. "I heard you were back in Korea. Naturally, I thought I'd pay a visit." She tilted her head, eyes taunting. "Didn't you miss me?"
Before he could answer, another voice cut in—sharp, trembling with disbelief.
"Seo-ra?"
Ye-seul stood in the doorway, her face tight, her tone more accusation than question.
"Oh look who it is, my favorite in-law. It's been ages," Seo-ra cooed.
Ye-seul's jaw clenched as she strode forward, her attention fixed on Min-jae. "Why is she here?"
"Isn't that rude?" Seo-ra feigned a pout. "I'm right here." She reached forward to smooth Ye-seul's hair, but before her fingers could graze, Ye-seul slapped them away.
"Keep your filthy hands off me."
Seo-ra's smirk deepened, feeding on the tension. Just then, Namjoon and Ji-uk entered. Ji-uk's eyes lit up, his tone almost boyishly excited.
"Seo-ra! When did you get back?"
"Oh, finally someone remembers their manners," she beamed.
Namjoon merely cast her a cold glance before striding further inside, dismissing her entirely.
"Oh, I see you're all gathered," Mrs. Hwan descended the stairs, regal as ever, holding little Kira by the hand. "Let's have dinner, shall we?"
Without another word, the family moved toward the dining room.
Minutes later, Chairman Hwan himself entered, his presence sucking the air from the room, commanding silence with nothing more than his aura.
The family dined under the chandelier's glow, the clinking of silverware sharp against the thick silence. Seo-ra lounged in her chair as if she had never left, sipping her wine with the serenity of someone who knew her very existence unsettled them all.
"Seo-ra, you didn't tell me you were coming," Chairman Hwan said, his voice calm yet carrying a weight that made the room still.
Seo-ra dropped her cutleries with a faint clink and smiled. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
"More like trauma," Ye-seul muttered, sawing viciously at her steak.
"Surely, you didn't return without a reason worthy of the chaos you've stirred." Chairman Hwan asked, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.
Seo-ra faltered for half a second, then tucked the hesitation behind her smile. "I want my darling Kira to grow up with her father. I want her to have more of him."
"Did your husband know you were returning?" the chairman pressed without missing a beat.
"No, Father," Seo-ra answered.
Chairman Hwan exhaled and set his cutleries down with deliberate care. "What is the child going to study?" His voice carried an authority that brooked no excuses.
"She's still a child, Father," Namjoon interjected quickly.
"I was asking Seo-ra," Chairman Hwan cut him off.
Seo-ra swallowed, her hand tightening on her napkin. "A doctor," she said.
The chairman's brow furrowed. "Doctor? Seo-ra, I believed you were smarter. Kira is the heir to your family. If you were truly responsible, you'd have already started lessons on business and trading and you're talking about being a doctor?"
Ye-seul muffled a laugh, only to receive a withering glare from Mrs. Hwan.
Turning away from Seo-ra, Chairman Hwan looked at Ji-uk. "I see your restaurant has added new cuisines, and you've climbed the rankings."
Ji-uk nodded proudly. "We've worked on it for over a year. I'm glad you've noticed."
"Min-jae," the chairman began, then paused, his eyes narrowing. "A camping trip?" His tone was tinged with disbelief.
Min-jae didn't flinch. He had anticipated resistance. "Father, in the office, people hide behind roles, titles, protocols. A manager can recite strategy in a boardroom, but I want to see how he reacts when forced into the unexpected. Who steps forward? Who adapts? Who buckles under pressure? Who quietly holds everyone together?"
He let the words settle before continuing, voice firm. "Camping strips away the polish. Out there, you can't delegate lighting a fire or carrying supplies. I'll see their real instincts—their problem-solving, their endurance, their teamwork. It will show me what résumés can't: their character when life gets uncomfortable."
"Wow! Oppa, that's actually really smart," Ye-seul beamed.
The chairman's eyes lingered on Min-jae, measuring him carefully. Min-jae leaned back, resolute.
"I can handle it, Father," he added.
"I like that, Uncle. You sound like Grandpa. You've got a daring side," little Kira piped, pointing at him.
"Kira! Behave," Seo-ra hissed.
"Oh, let the girl speak," Ye-seul smirked. "She's not wrong."
Seo-ra's fist tightened beneath the table, though she forced her lips into a smile. "You're right."
"We'll have the family golf ceremony next weekend," the chairman announced, pausing so the weight of his words landed. "Everyone must attend."
"Yes, Father," they chorused.
Chairman Hwan stood. "Have a good night." His tone clipped, but when Ye-seul leapt from her seat to take his arm, his voice softened, shifting into something warmer than he'd used for anyone else.
"You wouldn't believe it," she whispered.
"Tell me," he said, almost indulgently, as they disappeared together.
Mrs. Hwan rose, her demeanor softening as she patted Kira's head. "Shall we take a sweet night bath before bed?"
Kira nodded eagerly, clinging to her.
"Seo-ra, you must be tired. Rest. The rest of you as well," Mrs. Hwan instructed, leaving with the child.
Namjoon left without a word. Seo-ra followed close behind.
Ji-uk smirked as soon as the room was thinner. "Did you hear Father? He practically admitted I'm exceptional."
Min-jae gave him a flat look. "He didn't exactly say that," he replied, and walked out.
Ji-uk scoffed, rolling his eyes. "How dare he? That disrespectful bastard."
---
Min-jae's Soliloquy
Exceptional, Ji-uk? You cling to crumbs and call it a feast. Seo-ra waltzes back in without Namjoon's knowledge, and Father—Father sees right through her. Their little heir is being molded into nothing, and the inconsistency makes him restless. This family is cracking under its own weight. And me? I won't look away.
He chuckled under his breath.
No. I'll stay. I'll watch the cracks spread until they can't pretend anymore. This is going to be fun.