The golf course stretched quiet beneath the pale afternoon sun, its silence broken only by the low whistle of the wind against the trees. It was the kind of silence that carried weight—unspoken grudges, buried rivalries, and the faint rustle of pride.
Hyun-woo's stance was exact, every movement deliberate as he lined up his shot. His swing cut cleanly through the air, the ball soaring in a perfect arc before landing neatly on the green. He didn't smile. Didn't even blink. Just slid the club back into his bag as if the result was inevitable.
Min-jae's gaze tracked the ball, his expression a mask of calm. When his turn came, he moved with unhurried precision. His grip firm, his swing fluid—almost lazy. The ball rolled to a stop just a breath away from Hyun-woo's.
"Predictable," Min-jae murmured, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly.
Hyun-woo met his eyes, unshaken. "Consistency wins more than luck ever will."
From the back, Ji-uk's ball hooked wildly, disappearing into the trees. He groaned, tossing his club aside. "This game's rigged." His irritation turned on the servant at his side. "Well? What are you staring at? Go fetch it!"
"Yes, sir." The servant bolted into the trees, while Ji-uk dragged a hand through his hair.
Neither Hyun-woo nor Min-jae spared him a glance. Their attention was locked on each other, their rivalry burning quieter but fiercer than flames.
Not far from the green, Ye-seul stepped into Seo-ra's path, her smile sharp enough to cut, Seo-ra immediately turned on her heels to walk away.
"I've never seen you walk away from a fight," Ye-seul said sweetly. "Or are you embarrassed of your husband today?"
Seo-ra halted, turning back with narrowed eyes. "He's your brother too, you know."
Ye-seul's tone dipped, dragging each word like venom. "There's a difference, Seo-ra. I'm not dependent on him. But you… he's the only thing you have left."
Seo-ra smirked, though her fingers twitched dangerously. "Should I silence that sharp tongue of yours or let your pathetic nature expose itself?"
Ye-seul laughed, low and mocking. "Pathetic? If there were a crown for that, unnie, you'd wear it proudly. That would be your only victory."
Seo-ra's hand lifted, the threat of a slap hanging heavy in the air. But Ye-seul didn't flinch. She leaned closer instead, her smirk unwavering.
"You should know better," she whispered. "Rather than trying to play authority, maybe fix your broken family. I hear you're good at gambling, Seo-ra. Then you should already know who's winning this game… before it even starts." With that, she turned on her heel, leaving Seo-ra trembling with fury.
"That spoiled brat," Seo-ra hissed under her breath. "If not for my meddling father-in-law, I would've crushed her long ago."
By the time the game ended, Min-jae, Ji-uk, and Namjoon strode back to the family.
"Good game," Ye-seul said brightly, offering Min-jae a water bottle. Her smirk widened. "I knew you'd win. The gambling queen already confirmed it."
Seo-ra's jaw clenched, a curse slipping under her breath.
"Dad!" Kira's little voice pierced the tension as she bounded toward Namjoon.
"Let's have lunch," Mrs. Hwan called, her tone clipped but polite.
Seo-ra forced a smile. "I'll help with the preparations."
"You? Help?" Ye-seul's eyes glittered. "If you wanted to, you would've done it long ago."
"Ye-seul!" Mrs. Hwan snapped, then turned to Seo-ra. "The servants already handled everything. Your father-in-law is waiting in the lounge."
"Mother, my shoulders ache," Ji-uk whined, stretching dramatically. "Can you massage them later?"
Ye-seul snorted. "You're a grown, rich man, oppa. Surely you can afford a spa."
She slipped her arm through Seo-ra's with a mocking sweetness. "Shall we, unnie? Let's not keep Father waiting."
Seo-ra's smile tightened, but she walked along.
Minutes later, the family gathered in the lounge. The long table glittered with dishes, a feast fit for royalty.
"How was the game?" Chairman Hwan asked, his gaze sweeping the room.
"It went well," Mrs. Hwan replied quickly.
Ye-seul tilted her head. "let's not forget, Father—Min-jae Oppa, won against Korea's 2013 golf champion, Hwan Namjoon." Her words struck like a dagger.
Chairman Hwan's brows lifted. "Is that true?"
Namjoon's fists curled under the table. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Let's eat." His voice left no room for more.
The meal passed in silence, tension simmering beneath every bite.
When the others dispersed, only Min-jae and Ye-seul remained.
"Did I witness what I think I did today?" Ye-seul asked, her smirk glowing with pride.
"Yah, don't overdo it," Min-jae drawled, lazily scrolling his phone. "At this rate, you'll drive Seo-ra mad."
Ye-seul's laughter was airy, but her eyes glinted. "Oppa, you of all people underestimate her? She's not just a fly in the palace—she's desperate. Desperate for his attention, his praise, his acknowledgement. Desperation makes people dangerous."
Min-jae's lips curved faintly. "And pathetic."
"More than I imagined," Ye-seul agreed.
Just then, Kira appeared, her ponytail bouncing, a teddy clutched tight in her arms. Her small voice trembled. "Unnie… I'm sorry."
Ye-seul blinked. "Sorry? Why, little human?"
Tears welled in Kira's eyes. "I know you don't like me. You don't even want to see me."
Ye-seul crouched instantly, her sharpness melting into concern. "Hey. Why would you say that? I like you—a lot."
"Really?" Kira sniffled, uncertain.
"Yes," Ye-seul said firmly, wiping her tears. "So stop crying, okay?"
Kira nodded, though her tiny sobs escaped. Ye-seul pulled her into a hug. "You startled me, silly girl."
"I'm sorry," Kira whispered into her shoulder.
Ye-seul smiled, brushing her hair back. "Want ice cream?"
The little girl's eyes lit up, her sobs softening. She nodded eagerly.
"Oppa," Ye-seul said, looking up at Min-jae, her tone teasing again. "Drive us? I don't know many places here."
Min-jae narrowed his eyes at her theatrics, then sighed. "Get my keys," he ordered the servant by the door.
"Yes, sir."
Ye-seul's smirk returned as she stood, holding Kira's hand. But her eyes gleamed with something sharper than sweetness—victory, perhaps, or the promise of another game already unfolding.