Ga-young sat alone in Chairman Hwan's personal office, the silence pressing down on her like a weight. Her eyes roamed the room—walls adorned with rare patterns she had never seen, paintings that seemed to mirror the man's ambition and ruthlessness. Each brushstroke spoke of authority, dominance, and pride.
Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. Why had he called her here? Not to the office at K&H headquarters, but to his mansion—his inner sanctum. That alone told her the matter was far from ordinary.
The heavy doors creaked open, slicing through her thoughts. Chairman Hwan entered with his usual commanding aura, every step deliberate. Mr. Noh followed behind him, expression unreadable.
Ga-young rose immediately, bowing low.
"Good day, sir."
"Sit," Chairman Hwan ordered, taking his seat with the calm assurance of someone who owned everything in sight.
She sat, back straight, hands clasped tightly together. "To what do I owe this honor, Chairman?" she asked, her voice steady though her heart raced.
"I see you're eager to know why I summoned you," he said, studying her like a puzzle.
"Yes, sir."
With a gesture, he signaled to Mr. Noh. The older man stepped forward and slid a thick envelope across the desk.
Confusion flickered in Ga-young's eyes as she looked between them.
"Open it," the chairman instructed.
Her hands betrayed her composure, trembling slightly as she broke the seal. She drew out a stack of photographs.
Her breath caught.
Photos. Of her and Min-jae. From years ago.
Her eyes widened, hesitation freezing her in place.
"You seem surprised," Chairman Hwan remarked casually, though his gaze was sharp.
"S… sir—"
"That was eleven years ago, wasn't it?" he pressed.
"Yes, sir," Ga-young stammered, trying to steady herself.
He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "I always knew about your relationship. I chose to ignore it, assuming it was nothing but childish infatuation. But now… now you are adults. Adults who work far too closely together."
"I promise you, sir, there is nothing between us anymore," she said quickly.
"Is that even possible?" He clicked his tongue, a sharp sound in the silence. "From what I know, Min-jae's sudden departure from Korea ten years ago was tied to your breakup. And now—he returns, and you just happen to be his secretary? Tell me, Secretary Choi, how am I supposed to believe this is coincidence?"
Ga-young's head lowered, words deserting her.
"I'm not worried about Min-jae," the chairman continued coldly. "Who he marries or dates doesn't matter to me, as long as he isn't distracted from his purpose. Who worries me… is you." His voice deepened. "You and Min-jae make an extraordinary team. I'll admit that. The best I've ever seen. But extraordinary can be dangerous. I trust Min-jae with his emotions. You, however—I do not."
The words cut through her like glass.
"So here is my condition. If you intend to continue building any form of… relationship with him beyond business, then you may as well submit your resignation letter. That way, you are free to do as you wish. But not under my company's roof."
"Sir…" Ga-young's voice faltered, half-shocked, half-wounded.
"It's a simple choice. Workplace romances are already prohibited at K&H. I cannot allow the CEO himself to bend the rules." His tone left no room for debate.
Silence hung heavy between them. Ga-young's chest tightened, but she drew in a long breath and steadied herself.
"I want the growth of K&H as much as you do," she said finally. "And I would sacrifice anything to see it thrive."
The chairman studied her with piercing eyes, then gave another nod to Mr. Noh. This time, he placed a thick file in front of her.
Ga-young flipped it open, scanning the contents—an offer. A promotion. The position of General Executive Manager.
She closed the file carefully, exhaling. "I'm honored, Chairman, and I sincerely appreciate your faith in me. But with respect, I must decline—for now."
Chairman Hwan's brows lifted slightly. "Think carefully, Secretary Choi. This opportunity may never come again."
"I've thought carefully, sir," Ga-young said firmly. "But taking this role would mean I could no longer work closely with Mr. Min-jae. And you said it yourself—we are the best team when we're together. I'm not ready to give that up just yet."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You sound too sure of yourself. Very well. I hope you don't regret your choice. And the next time we meet, surprise me—with a project worthy of my faith."
She bowed deeply, her voice steady despite the storm inside. "Thank you, sir. It is truly an honor."
He leaned back in his chair, dismissive yet watchful. "We're done here."
Ga-young rose, bowing again. "Have a good day, Chairman."
"And you, Secretary Choi."
As she turned to leave, her eyes caught once more on the paintings that lined the wall—grand, domineering strokes that seemed to stare after her, judging. With one last breath, she pushed open the doors and stepped out.
That night, Ga-young walked home alone, the streets dim and quiet, the chill in the air clinging to her skin. Chairman Hwan's words still lingered, cutting through her resolve the way only he could. No matter how she tried to bury it, the feeling gnawed at her — the terrifying thought that she might be slipping, falling again.
She cursed under her breath, quickening her steps.
"Choi Ga-young!"
The sudden call cracked through the silence. She stiffened but kept walking.
"Hey! Are you deaf now?" the voice pressed, harsher this time.
Ga-young let out a sharp exhale, muttering, "What now? Haven't I suffered enough today?" She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as her gaze landed on him.
Man-ho.
"What did you just say?" His tone dripped with threat.
"Are you dumb now? Or just blind to see I'm clearly ignoring you?" Her words cut like glass, cool and defiant.
He gave a low, sarcastic chuckle. "Look at you. Got some guts now, talking to me like that."
Her lips curved into a bitter smile. "What do you want this time, Man-ho?" She spat his name like poison.
He gasped, feigning disbelief. "Did you just call me by name?"
"Do I have a reason not to?" she shot back, her voice sharp as a blade.
His expression twisted, fury flashing. "You disrespectful bitch." He lunged, his hand stretching toward her hair.
But before he could touch her, she caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it in one swift, merciless motion. In the blink of an eye, he was on the ground, his back slamming against the pavement with a guttural cry of pain.
Ga-young stood over him, her cold gaze piercing into him like winter steel. "I've already paid every debt my father left you. Every coin, every damn cent. I have no reason to deal with your trash anymore. Try me again, and I won't be this merciful."
Man-ho writhed, clutching his arm, his breath ragged.
She turned, her steps deliberate as she walked away, her shadow stretching long in the streetlight. Behind her, his curses grew weaker, swallowed by the night.
"That felt so good" she said as she walked away.
Ga-young didn't look back. For the first time in years, the chains were gone — and she vowed never to let anyone bind her again.