“......”

This time, I truly had nothing to say. Seonho was going to acquire Haesin? Without my engagement to Kwon Yido, there was no point of contact between the two companies at all. There was no reason for Seonho to take an interest in Haesin.

Was this the reason for the engagement?

Unconsciously, I rubbed the finger that still bore the faint mark of a ring. Perhaps Seonho had been eyeing the crumbling Haesin from the very beginning. That would explain why they accepted the engagement with me, pushed me to resign from my position as division head, and then “kept an eye” on me afterward.

'Not surveillance—security.'

“Haa...”

A dull throb pulsed through my head. The sudden fatigue was enough to make the back of my neck stiffen. It felt like all the blood had drained from my head, leaving me faint and dizzy.

I knew nothing good would come from thinking too deeply about it. I also knew it was all just my speculation, and could just as easily be a coincidence. But the stream of news I kept hearing only pushed my thoughts in the worst direction.

“...What will happen to the remaining employees?”

The team members I had worked with, and the countless staff beneath them—once management rights changed hands, they would be the first to suffer. A company of Seonho’s size wouldn’t act irresponsibly, but even if they declared they wouldn’t step in to help, there wouldn’t be much anyone could do.

But Mr. Kim answered in his usual unchanged tone.

“I don’t think there will be much impact. Only the upper management will be replaced, and the structure will stay about the same.”

It was a surprisingly specific plan for something that hadn’t even happened yet. I frowned slightly at the sudden sense of wrongness, not expecting him to have this much information.

“So there won’t be any layoffs?”

“Yes, that’s my understanding.”

When a company faced a management crisis, the employees at its core usually noticed first. Around that time, resignations would spike, and those who stayed were mostly enduring it for whatever compensation they could get. But when I’d run into Assistant Manager Yoon not long ago, he hadn’t seemed to know anything.

The only possible scenario was that they had finished negotiations with key executives and proceeded without letting other employees know—because nothing major would change, and they didn’t want to disturb the current stability.

In other words, they had bought out only my father’s closest aides, extracted the necessary information, and moved forward with the plan.

“My father really has no luck with people.”

At my offhand remark, Mr. Kim didn’t offer any denial. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then looked straight ahead again. Through the thin lenses of his glasses, his eyes looked quietly, bitterly sunken.

“Luck with people is something you make yourself.”

It was a calm response—perhaps all the more cruel for that.

“What will you do, Mr. Kim?”

If my father was in custody, Mr. Kim would be the one in the most difficult position. The one to take the biggest hit would also be him. Without some plan, his prospects would be just as bleak.

“I...”

Though he had answered smoothly until now, this time he didn’t respond so easily. His finger twitched against the steering wheel. When he finally spoke, the words came with a faint hesitation.

“Nothing’s been decided yet.”

“......”

I knew instinctively that he was hiding something. Just as he had watched over me for years, I had spent years watching him. I could read from his eyes what it meant when he chose his words carefully.

But I kept my mouth shut, pretending not to notice. I didn’t want to push someone already under enough strain. Whether or not I pried, he’d likely been through enough in recent days; there was no need to scratch at old wounds.

We didn’t speak again until we arrived at the hotel. His suggestion that I take a nap if I was tired was the last exchange between us. Knowing my insomnia better than anyone, Mr. Kim took every opportunity to make me rest when he could.

“Madam is out at the moment.”

Mr. Kim handed me the keycard to Minjae’s room. My mother and Seoyoung were staying together, and Minjae had his own separate room. Naturally, I should have gone to my mother first, but if she was out, I decided to see Minjae.

Avoiding public attention, I took the VIP elevator up to the suite floor. My family was staying on the 21st floor. Walking down the carpeted hall, I stopped in front of Minjae’s door.

“I’ll wait outside.”

I considered telling him to come in with me, but decided against it. Even if Mr. Kim followed me in, all he’d do was stand there like part of the furniture. I didn’t need to see for myself what an already edgy Minjae might say to me.

Beep—the keycard unlocked the door, and I stepped inside. Crossing the wide suite, I saw the long sofa and table, and the large TV mounted on the wall.

“......”

Bedroom or sitting room—which would he be in? Probably the bedroom, but then which of the two?

But before I could decide, Minjae’s voice came from somewhere very close by.

“Mr. Kim...”

It was a dying voice. Startled, I turned my head and saw two feet sticking out from the sofa armrest. The polished brown shoes bore the mark of Minjae’s favorite brand.

“Where have you been...”

So Mr. Kim must have been with him earlier, then left to pick me up after my call. I appreciated him coming right away, but it was strange he’d leave Minjae looking this unsteady.

“I asked you to bring me—”

“Sorry.”

Silence fell. Slowly, I stepped closer and looked over the back of the sofa at him. Minjae, lying with his ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) arm over his forehead, lifted his head sluggishly.

“Mr. Kim’s outside.”

“...!”

Thud! A loud noise rang out. Minjae had tumbled off the sofa at the sight of me. Wincing at the sound—surely that hurt—I watched him spring up like a jack-in-the-box and stare at me.

“You, you...!”

His wide eyes were filled with shock. The look on his face was as if he’d seen a ghost. Had Mr. Kim not told my family I was coming? Even if I had shown up unannounced, wasn’t this reaction a bit much?

“How did you—!”

“...Why are you so surprised?”

I replied evenly, looking him over. He’d fallen hard, but at least he didn’t seem hurt. Or maybe he was too shocked to notice.

“I saw the article.”

Having to learn about my father through the news—it left me with a strange feeling even as I said it. I wanted to ask why he hadn’t contacted me, but he’d probably give the same answer as Mr. Kim.

“As soon as I heard, I called Mr. Kim and asked him to bring me. He explained the gist of it on the way.”

“......”

“What did you ask him to bring you?”

Minjae didn’t answer. His eyes—like our mother’s—narrowed sharply. At first glance it looked like anger, but I knew better.

“If it’s urgent, I can tell him for you.”

“......”

He was holding back tears. His emotions were all tangled up, and it was clearly hard for him to keep his composure. The red rims of his eyes and the faint tremor at the corners of his mouth made that obvious.

For all his bluster, Minjae was only twenty-four. An immature kid who had fled home from studying abroad because it was too hard. Seoyoung was smart in her own way, but Minjae must have been struggling mentally with all this.

“......”

“...Minjae?”

Even so, it was strange for him to be this unresponsive. I stepped closer, puzzled. There was his usual hint of aromatherapy, a lingering trace of perfume, and... a faint scent of alcohol.

...Wine?

Minjae couldn’t handle alcohol, but the only thing he ever drank was wine—sweet, never dry. Sure enough, on the table sat a bottle and a wine glass.

“Are you alright? Should I call Mr. Kim?”

Was he already drunk? If so, I was going to have Mr. Kim bring something to sober him up. But before I could turn, Minjae spoke in a sharp voice.

“...Why are you here?”

“What?”

Not exactly a warm welcome. It almost sounded like he was drawing a line. I’d already explained why I was here.

“What do you mean, why...?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t his usual needling; it was as if he genuinely hadn’t expected me.

“I told you, I saw the article.”

“...And what’s that got to do with you?”

“......”

This time, I frowned. As my brow furrowed, he spat the words like they were bitter on his tongue.

“You saw the article—so what.”

His clipped tone was tight with restraint, like he was struggling to hold back anger.

“Oh, so you came to gloat? Enjoy the view?”

“Why are you talking like that?”

It struck me as excessive. More than just lashing out—there was an unusual chill to him today. He smirked, twisting his lips.

“You know better than anyone why I’m like this. After you left us behind to go live it up in that bastard’s house, you come here to play the saint?”

“......”

Apparently, I’d been looking a little too well lately. Both at the anniversary ceremony and now, he assumed I’d been doing fine.

“Or what, here to put on an act?”

“That’s not—”

“Bullshit. You’re glad this happened. You’re going to marry him anyway...!”

“Minjae.”

I cut him off calmly. It would take more than this petty provocation to make me snap. And he wasn’t wrong—I was living comfortably at Yido’s house. It was just exhausting to have to go through the same tiresome back-and-forth again.

“You know why I got engaged.”

“......”

If he had half a brain, he couldn’t not know. I had no purpose of my own—I was engaged to Yido solely to play the role of an omega.

“And whether we marry isn’t up to me, it’s up to him.”

My mood was surprisingly steady. Everything felt predetermined, like following a set script. The news of my father’s arrest had shocked me, but what happened afterward felt almost familiar.

“I’m not here to pity you—I’m here because I’m worried. I don’t have time to come and gloat, and I don’t know enough to put on some act.”

“......”

“Glad this happened? Why would I think that?”

The thing about Minjae was that even when he hurled insults, he knew they were insults. He guessed I’d be hurt, but still couldn’t hold back the emotions boiling over. Yet if I so much as got serious, he’d clamp his mouth shut and watch me warily.

“When something happens to family, of course I’m going to come.”

It was the most reasonable answer I could give. I wanted to tell him to just act spoiled, but I knew it would rub him the wrong way. He dipped his head, then murmured so faintly I almost didn’t hear.

“...Family?”

His clenched fist trembled slightly. Letting out a hollow laugh, he shook his head like a madman, then lifted his gaze to meet mine.

“You’re not even on the family register, and you call yourself my family?”

“......”

It was like having cold water dumped over me. The sudden rush of reality overturned the calm I’d barely been holding onto. His voice was more resolute than I’d ever heard it.

“Hey.”

“......”

“You and I are strangers.”

Strangers. Why did that word stick so much? It wasn’t like I hadn’t always known it. But somehow it felt unbearably harsh. Like his one sentence had stripped away the fog in my head.

“Go get a blood test or pull the records—you and I are strangers. Got it?”

Everything he said was technically true. I wasn’t on my father’s family register, and there was no legal proof we were related. That big house might have given me a small room, but it had never given me a single line on an official document.

“And you call this family...”

So he’d known. He’d known I was nothing more than an outsider. When had he found out what I myself had only learned around twenty?

I had never been their family, not for a single moment. That undeniable fact came back as a dizzying wave, and I pressed my hand to my forehead, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“Minjae, I—”

“‘Hyung, hyung’—fuck, that goddamn ‘hyung’!”

He exploded, raking his hands through his hair. His reaction was raw, unable to contain his temper. Through the messy strands, his tear-glossed eyes shone with grief.

“Stop saying that fucking word!”

“......”

Yeah, the alcohol was talking now. His red eyes weren’t just from emotion—they were from exhaustion and drink both.

“You think I don’t notice? Always calling me ‘hyung’ on purpose, making me feel it—did you think I wouldn’t catch on?”

His ragged voice cut sharp into my ears. The tears hanging at the corners of his eyes looked ready to fall at any second. Grinding his teeth, he spilled the bitterness he’d been holding in.

“I like y—!”

“Minjae.”

My voice came out cold. A sigh slipped between my lips before I could stop it. Loosening my tie, I turned my head slightly.

“Let’s stop there.”

“......”

Heavy silence settled between us. I couldn’t bring myself to see what kind of face he was making. I just rubbed at my stifled throat and kept my eyes down.

“I’m here because you’re my brother.”

If we truly were strangers, I wouldn’t have left Yido to come to this hotel. I would’ve stayed at his house, gone to the company he’d arranged for me, and kept living a quiet daily life. I was here talking to Minjae because he was my family—or at least, once a younger brother I’d been close to.

“If we’re not family, then I have no reason to put up with your tantrums.”

I knew I was speaking coldly. I knew how cruel it would sound to him. But before the lines I’d drawn were completely blurred, I needed to push him back, just once, with certainty.

“You might not think of me as family, Minjae.”

I paused, looking straight at him. His wide eyes wavered instantly. I had meant to speak evenly, but seeing that expression left me with a bitter taste.

“Are you really never going to see me again?”