Chapter 5: The Old Lion's Den
Rael POV
Sunday, 9:28 a.m.
A black Genesis pulls up outside the penthouse. Same driver as always, face blank as stone.
He opens the door for me likeily, but today he doesn't say "Good morning, Mr. Kang."
Today he doesn't say anything at all.
The ride is one hour north of Seoul, past the city, past the suburbs, until the road narrows and the trees get older.
Iron gates. Security in suits instead of uniforms. Cameras that follow the car like snipers.
Then the house appears.
Not a house. A fortress pretending to be traditional. Hanok roofs the size of football fields, modern glass extensions hidden behind wooden screens. Koi ponds older than my bloodline.
I'm wearing the suit Jaehyun picked last night over FaceTime (charcoal, slim cut, no tie, top button open so the marks on my collarbone peek out).
He told me not to hide them.
He didn't tell me his grandfather would see them first.
A maid leads me through corridors that smell like pine and money. No one speaks above a whisper.
At the end: sliding doors, fusuma paper painted with cranes.
She bows and leaves me there.
I slide the door open myself.
The room is huge, tatami mats, low table, winter sunlight pouring in.
An old man sits at the head, spine straight, wearing a dark gray durumagi.
He looks ninety but his eyes are twenty-five and cruel.
Yoon Ilsung.
The chairman.
And I'm alone with him.
He doesn't tell me to sit.
I kneel anyway, forehead almost to the floor.
"Stand up, boy."
I stand.
He studies me the way butchers study meat.
"So. You're the one making my grandson late to meetings."
My mouth goes dry. "I—"
"Quiet."
He lifts a teacup, sips, never takes his eyes off me.
"I've read the contract. One year. Five billion. Generous. Stupid, but generous."
I swallow. "Sir, I never asked for—"
"I don't care what you asked for." He sets the cup down with a click. "I care what he gave. Freely. Without consulting me. That has never happened. Not once in thirty-two years."
He stands. He's shorter than Jaehyun but the room still shrinks.
"Do you know what happens to toys he gets bored of?"
He steps closer. "They disappear. Quietly. Permanently."
The threat lands like ice water.
I lift my chin. "I'm not a toy."
A long silence.
Then, to my shock, he smiles. Small. Shark-like.
"Good."
He walks to a cabinet, opens it, takes out a wooden box.
Inside: a seal. Old, heavy, jade handle carved with dragons.
He places it on the table between us.
"My personal seal. Worth more than your little life ten thousand times over."
He pushes it toward me. "One stamp on any document and entire conglomerates fall. Jaehyun has begged for access to it since he was fifteen. I always refused."
He sits again.
"Earn it," he says simply. "Make him into the man who deserves it. Not the reckless boy who signs his name on pretty interns because he's lonely."
My heart is hammering so hard I can barely hear.
"How?"
"Survive me first."
He gestures to the cushion across from him.
"Sit. We're going to play baduk. If you last thirty moves without resigning, I will give you one piece of advice about my grandson that no one else alive knows. If you resign early…"
He taps the seal. "You'll never see floor 42 again."
I sit.
He places the board between us. Black stones for him, white for me.
I'm decent at baduk. My dad taught me before he left.
But thirty moves against Yoon Ilsung?
I'm dead.
Move 1.
Move 5.
Move 12.
He takes my stones like swatting flies.
Move 19. I'm sweating. My dragon is dying.
Move 25. I see an opening (tiny, suicidal, maybe brilliant). I play it.
His eyebrow twitches. First reaction all day.
Move 28.
Move 29.
He places a stone that cuts my last breathing room.
Checkmate.
I stare at the board. My hands hover, ready to resign.
Then I think of Jaehyun this morning on the phone, voice rough with sleep:
"Don't bow too low, Rael-ah. Not even to him."
I look up at the old man.
"I don't resign."
I tip my king stone over instead (forfeit, but not surrender).
He stares for a long time.
Then he laughs. Actually laughs, short and sharp.
"Thirty moves. You lasted thirty. Barely, but you lasted."
He picks up the jade seal, rolls it between his fingers.
"The advice," he says. "Listen carefully."
He leans forward.
"Jaehyun is afraid of being loved. He thinks if he lets someone close, they'll see he's empty inside and leave. So he buys people before they can choose to stay. Break the contract. Make him earn you. Or he'll never believe you're real."
He sets the seal in my palm and closes my fingers around it.
"Take this. When the year ends, you decide what it stamps. His freedom… or his heart."
I can't breathe.
He stands. "Go. My grandson is waiting outside like a nervous dog. Don't make him suffer longer."
I bow (deep, real this time) and walk out in a daze.
Jaehyun is leaning against the car, coat collar up, snow in his hair, eyes bloodshot.
He straightens the second he sees me, tries to look casual, fails completely.
"You okay?" His voice cracks on the last word.
I walk straight into his arms and let him crush me against his chest.
"I'm perfect," I whisper.
He buries his face in my neck, inhales like he was drowning.
Behind us, the old lion watches from the doorway, smiling like he just won something bigger than baduk.
I hold the seal in my pocket and feel the future shift.
One year suddenly feels too short.
And not nearly enough.