chapter 12
As much as he hated to admit it, Lee Seung-oh was scared.
He had run into Ryu Kyung-jun several times on his way to the CEO’s office, but he’d never really thought much about him.
All he knew was that the man was always expressionless and polite to everyone—nothing more.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Aren’t you even curious what kind of relationship I have with Yoon Seo-ha, or why her phone was in that car?”
“What… what’s with that tone of yours?”
“Forget the tone.”
Kyung-jun straightened up, slipped both hands into his pockets, and smiled faintly.
“Let’s talk business, Mr. Lee. You and me.”
“Business…?”
“Yeah. Because I’m the son of the Chairman of Taeyang Group.”
Seung-oh stared at him blankly for a second—then burst out laughing.
“So the secretary’s got jokes. Guess you wanted to have a little fun before you stop seeing me, huh?”
“My predecessor, Secretary Choi—he didn’t come by recently, did he?”
Kyung-jun’s smile didn’t waver.
“He got ten billion won, one lump sum, from my father. On the condition that he put me in this position and never approached this place again.”
Seung-oh’s laughter died, his expression stiffening.
“My father personally offered to acquire this company, but President Kang turned him down without even hearing him out. You can imagine how furious that made the old man.
Taeyang Group has never failed to buy a company it wanted before.”
“What a fantasy you’re writing.”
“Maybe. But this little ‘fiction’ has just landed in your lap.”
Kyung-jun glanced toward the curtained area where Yoon Seo-ha lay motionless.
“Here’s my proposal. You keep running the company as acting CEO for now. Grow it well. Then, when the timing’s right, I’ll arrange another merger offer through Taeyang Group.
You act like you’re reluctant but sign the papers anyway—walk away with cash or a top position in Taeyang. How’s that sound?”
“…”
Could that possibly be true?
Seung-oh blinked, overwhelmed by Kyung-jun’s calm confidence.
It was true that Taeyang Group had expanded by swallowing up small companies.
It was also true that the only company it failed to obtain was Kang Yoon Company, and that the chairman’s surname was indeed Ryu.
“What proof do you have that any of this is real?”
“Call Secretary Choi and ask. Or better yet, I can connect you directly to my father right now.”
Kyung-jun pulled out his phone, showing a contact labeled Chairman Ryu.
He looked perfectly ready to hit the call button.
But Seung-oh didn’t have the guts to talk directly to a man of that stature.
“Wait, no—it’s fine!”
He waved his hands in a panic.
“Let’s say I believe you. Then why not merge now, while President Kang’s out of commission?”
“The CEO collapsed. His only daughter might as well be dead.
If the son-in-law immediately sells off the company now, what’ll that make Taeyang Group look like? You can run away with the money, sure—but who’s going to fix Taeyang’s image afterward?”
It made sense.
Perfect sense—from Taeyang’s perspective.
This was an opportunity.
An incredible stroke of luck sitting right in front of him.
Seung-oh’s chest swelled with excitement; he had to fight hard not to grin.
Even Kyung-jun’s earlier rudeness now felt like the cool arrogance of a man born with power.
“Well… when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound bad.”
He pretended to stay calm and dignified, unaware that he’d naturally switched back to polite speech.
“What do you want in return, Mr. Ryu? You must have something to gain too.”
“If the merger happens at the right time and under the right conditions, I don’t want much.”
Kyung-jun’s smile widened.
“But until then, someone needs to make sure the company grows properly. So, I’ll stay on as chief secretary, also serving as an executive director.”
It was such a small price that it barely qualified as a condition.
If it turned out to be nonsense, Seung-oh could simply fire him.
To turn a messy, troublesome company into pure cash and prestige—what sweeter deal could there be?
“Oh, one more thing.”
Kyung-jun raised his index finger.
“All of this stays between us. If word gets out, there’ll be protests and obstacles. Too much of a headache.”
That, too, was perfectly reasonable.
“Agreed. I’ll count on you until the merger goes through.”
“And I’ll count on you.”
They shook hands firmly.
Three years later.
Three years had passed since Yoon Seo-ha’s tragic accident.
As planned, Lee Seung-oh had taken the role of acting CEO and continued to run the company.
Lee Ji-soo, who had joined as a junior designer, became a team leader within just three months—an absurdly fast and generous promotion that drove away three skilled designers.
Throughout it all, Ryu Kyung-jun, as chief secretary and executive, stayed by Seung-oh’s side, watching everything unfold.
Each time something Kang Hae-seon and Yoon Seo-ha had built began to crumble, he swallowed his bitterness.
The goal—a merger with Taeyang Group—still stood firm.
After all, who in Korea could defy Chairman Ryu’s will?
But for now, Kyung-jun had to buy time.
He couldn’t bear to imagine Seo-ha waking up one day only to find her company already sold off.
If they were to fight over the merger—so be it.
Better that than stealing it while Kang and Seo-ha lay helpless.
“We’ve arrived. Please go ahead, I’ll wait in the car if you’d prefer privacy.”
At the hospital entrance, Seung-oh spoke politely—so politely that anyone watching might have mistaken him for the secretary.
“No, it’s fine. Take your time,” Kyung-jun replied evenly.
As Seung-oh walked toward the entrance, Ji-soo clung tightly to his arm.
Kyung-jun’s cold gaze followed them before he parked the car and took the elevator up.
He was headed for a room he had visited hundreds of times—Yoon Seo-ha’s ward.
“Stop it… what if the nurse comes back?”
“She went to eat. Won’t be back for an hour.”
“Still… ah—!”
Their disgusting voices slipped through the closed door.
Kyung-jun clenched his fist so tightly his knuckles went white, nails digging into his palm.
A group of doctors and nurses passed by with charts in hand. He bowed slightly, forcing composure, and went upstairs.
Knock knock.
“Come in,” a soft voice said after a pause.
By the window sat Kang Hae-seon, wearing a hospital gown.
At first glance, she looked almost the same as before—healthy, neat, calm.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Very well, thank you. But… I’m sorry, who are you?”
It had been three years since Seo-ha’s accident.
The once-formidable CEO who had led her company single-handedly was gone.
Crushed by grief, her mind had trapped itself decades in the past—back when her precious daughter had been just a toddler.
“I’m Ryu Kyung-jun, a new secretary. It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am.”
He had spoken those same words hundreds of times over the years.
“Oh my, a young new talent in our company. Welcome, Mr. Ryu.”
Hae-seon smiled brightly—then glanced at the wall clock and gasped.
“Goodness, it’s that late already! Mr. Ryu, tell Secretary Choi I’m leaving early.
It’s my daughter’s birthday today—I promised her I’d come home early.”
The reason she needed to go see Seo-ha changed every day—because it was her birthday, because the weather was nice, because it was raining, because she wanted to buy her ice cream.
“Miss Yoon Seo-ha is at her ballet class right now. I’ll bring her home later.”
And so, once again, Hae-seon did not meet her daughter.
“Then I have a little time. What’s next on my schedule?”
“You have a meeting in an hour. Please rest until then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ryu.”
Kyung-jun bowed deeply and stepped outside.
In the hallway, Ok-soon was speaking with a group of reporters. When she saw him, she hurried over.
“Secretary Ryu, where’s the acting CEO? The press are waiting and we can’t reach him.”
“He’s in Miss Yoon Seo-ha’s room.”
“Then I’ll—no, wait. Ji-soo’s in there too, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“Guess I’ll have to go myself. Thanks!”
The bodyguards were nowhere to be seen—same as when they arrived.
Kyung-jun folded his arms and muttered, “Useless. I’ll fire them all and hire new ones.”
Reporters who had been peeking toward the ward quickly turned away under his sharp glare.
…
Everything was white.
Seoha slowly blinked. Once, twice, three times—until her mind began to clear.
A hospital?
The white filling her vision was the ceiling above her bed.
She could hear faint voices, footsteps moving quietly up and down the hall.
She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t obey. Her mind and body felt detached.
“Uhh…”
A faint, unfamiliar voice escaped her lips—but a nurse nearby heard it and turned, eyes widening.
“Oh my!”
The nurse ran over.
“Miss, can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Seoha nodded weakly.
Within moments, nearly ten doctors and nurses crowded around her bed.
Only then did she notice the oxygen mask over her face—she must have been in a serious condition.
“Why… why am I here?”
As soon as they removed the mask, she spoke.
“You were brought in after a car accident. You’ve been in a coma for over three years—but you’ve woken up. It’s a miracle.
Do you have any family or relatives we can contact?”
“Family…?”
The word echoed dully in her mind.
Family. Family.
But no images came with it—just the empty sound of the word itself.
“I don’t remember. Family…”
“That’s okay. After a major accident or long coma, temporary memory loss is common—especially in your case, Miss Jo Seo-ha.”
“Jo… Seo-ha?”
“That’s your name. Do you remember it?”
It didn’t sound completely foreign.
‘Seoha’—the name felt strangely fitting, like a familiar piece of clothing.
“I think that’s my name. Seoha.”
When she spoke it aloud, faint voices buzzed in her mind.
‘You know what’s really scary? …when someone like her suddenly opens her eyes and sits up.’
‘Then she’ll ask, “What happened to the divorce papers? Did you prepare the settlement?”’
‘That car was way too sturdy. How could she crash into a truck and still survive?’
“Aaahhh!”
Pain exploded behind her eyes, twisting through her skull.
The sudden scream sent the medical staff rushing to restrain her.
“Miss Jo!”
Seoha clutched her head, gasping.
The pain faded quickly—but the cold, sick feeling lingered.
What was that?
Were those real memories—or just the brain’s confused inventions?
She couldn’t tell.
Everything was uncertain.
