It wasn’t a threat. It was nothing more than a simple question. An engagement with no end in sight and Father’s arrest already predetermined. Would those two things be enough to make me lose even the fragile semblance of family I had barely been holding onto?

“......”

Minjae said nothing for a long while. He only parted his lips over and over, staring at me. At last, the sigh that burst out carried a tangled mess of emotions.

“Ha...”

A low curse followed. A blend of emptiness, futility, and helplessness laced with fading anger. Covering his face with both hands, Minjae gave a mad little laugh and muttered under his breath.

“Fuck, seriously...”

It didn’t have the combative edge from earlier. If anything, it sounded as though he had given up, abandoning everything. I pulled my gaze away from him and checked the watch on my wrist.

“...I should get ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) going.”

He probably wasn’t crying. He might sulk for a few days, but eventually he’d pull himself together. I planned to ask Mr. Kim to keep an eye on him and simply wait for time to do its work.

“Rest. Don’t drink too much.”

How did things end up like this? We had gotten along well enough when we were kids. There was a time when Minjae, chasing after me and calling me “hyung, hyung,” had felt as precious as if he were truly my blood brother.

“......”

The gaze he turned on me brimmed with regret. Feelings I had left unattended because I lacked the courage to face them had taken root without my knowing. Would things have been different if I had stopped him earlier? Even if I thought that now, it was already too late.

“I’ll go now.”

With those words, I turned my back on Minjae. This time he didn’t lash out in anger either. He only let out a long sigh, swallowing down a sob.

And just as I took a step toward the door to leave, a small question came from behind me.

“...You’re not going to pick up again, are you?”

“......”

I froze, not because his voice trembled, but because I couldn’t make sense of what he meant. Me, not picking up again? The words were absurd.

“You called me?”

When I turned back to ask, Minjae’s face twisted. Scrubbing his face with one hand, he bit down on his lip.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now...”

“...You’re saying you tried to call me?”

I pulled my phone from my inner pocket and checked if there had been any contact. But on the screen, there were no missed calls, no messages. Just in case, I checked the call log too, but the only numbers listed were Kwon Yido’s and Mr. Kim’s.

“There’s no record of any call.”

“...What?”

Minjae glared at me in disbelief. It was as if the last remnants of his emotions were being forcibly erased. His eyes went wide, and his face twisted in frustration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you know how many times I tried to—”

He broke off mid-outburst, lips pressed shut. The sharp turn of his head suggested a sudden wave of embarrassment. I checked my block list, my messages, then searched for Minjae’s number in my contacts and pressed the call button.

“......”

A pop song ringtone spilled from my phone. And a beat later, the exact same ringtone chimed from nearby. I had spoken to Mr. Kim on the phone barely an hour ago, and the call signal was going through fine now, so it wasn’t an issue with my device.

“...What the hell.”

Minjae, checking his own phone, furrowed his brow. He glanced between me and his screen, his face contorting as if I’d betrayed him. Then, scowling, he clenched his phone tight.

“So now you secretly change your number?”

“......”

Unbelievable. I stepped closer, seizing the wrist holding his phone. Minjae flinched, tried to step back, then fell silent when he saw my face.

“This is...”

It was an eleven-digit number I had never seen before. And yet the call was coming from me. The person dialing was me—but the number showing wasn’t the one I had used all my life. Just to be sure, I ended the call, and the pop song ringtone cut off instantly.

“......”

My number... shouldn’t have changed.

My mind bleached white. Minjae stared at my frozen expression, watching me closely without a word. In my dazed ears, I could almost hear Yido’s voice again.

“The secretary will bring the phone in the afternoon.”

Chills crawled down the back of my neck. It was as if someone had struck the back of my head, snapping me awake. My lips clamped shut against a scream, my hand covering my mouth as I stared down at the phone.

“The screen was shattered, so I had him buy a new one.”

The day after the heat cycle in the greenhouse. Yido had ordered Lee Taeseong to buy me a new phone. He had said everything was backed up, even had the screen of my old phone repaired. And yet—what if the phone I’d been using without suspicion was set to a completely different number?

“...Ha.”

My thoughts began to spin again. Since that day, I hadn’t given my number to anyone. I received Taeseong’s number from him directly, and I hadn’t shared my contact info even at the anniversary ceremony. The last greetings from subordinates had stopped around then as well.

Yido had changed my number.

The moment I realized that, one contradiction hit me. A number none of my family, not even I myself, had known. The only people I had exchanged calls with were Yido and Lee Taeseong.

“Director Jung. It’s me.”

“...What, hey, where are you going? Hey!”

Clutching the phone in one hand, I strode across the suite toward the door, ignoring Minjae’s calls. The moment I yanked it open, the man standing beside it looked up sharply.

“Young master?”

Through thin lenses, a puzzled gaze met mine. Age had etched fine lines around his eyes. I closed the door behind me so Minjae wouldn’t overhear and addressed him.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Yes.”

He held my gaze in silence, waiting for me to speak. His neck stiffened, as if bracing for something. The whole situation felt too absurd to believe. By the time I asked the question, I was already laughing hollowly.

“How did you know my number?”

“......”

His lips, slightly parted, snapped shut. Just like in the car earlier, his eyes sank heavily. After a long silence, without any excuses, he gave a single reply.

“...I’m sorry.”

So it was you. You were the one feeding everything to Kwon Yido.

Fragments I’d overlooked resurfaced all at once—the unease I’d felt with Mr. Kim, the guarded look I’d caught in the car, the way Yido paid such close attention to him, and those words I’d heard not long ago.

“If it were just a contractual engagement, he wouldn’t go that far for you.”

Apparently, what he meant by “that far” was the ruin of Haesin. Father’s closest aide and the internal informant had been none other than him. No wonder I hadn’t bothered trying to investigate.

“......”

I should have felt betrayed. Mr. Kim was Father’s man—how could he have turned his back in an instant? At the very least, suspicion should have driven me to confirm it. And yet strangely, I didn’t feel the urge.

“...Father...”

“......”

“...Really is unfortunate when it comes to people.”

If I had made even one call first. If I had reached out to my family without going through Mr. Kim. If I had confronted things instead of avoiding them, I would have realized soon enough. That my number had been changed, that Haesin was cornered, that Mr. Kim had chosen Yido’s side.

It wasn’t something I could blame on anyone else. Like Mr. Kim had said, fortune with people is made, not given. It wasn’t as though I had committed some crime and been framed. Could I really put the cause on others?

Ironically, staring at Father cornered, I felt nothing. Not sadness, not pity, not even contempt. But neither did I feel any sense of satisfaction. It was as though I had become nothing more than a spectator, watching from afar.

“...Madam knows as well.”

Mr. Kim’s voice was flat, without rise or fall. The content was shocking, but I realized I was no longer capable of being shocked. Slipping the phone into my inner pocket, I gave him a small nod.

“Take me to Mother.”

***

It began to rain on the way back from seeing Mother. The start of the monsoon, it seemed, just ahead of summer. The gray sky poured steady drizzle that painted the world in monochrome.

Mr. Kim kept silent as he drove through the wet roads. Not even his usual reminder to rest my eyes if I was tired. The patter of rain against the window, mixed with the occasional noise of the road, was all the conversation between us.

“Sejin, just pretend you don’t know.”

All the while, I replayed what had happened at the hotel. In Minjae’s suite on the same floor, in the reception room so Seoyoung wouldn’t hear. Even in that wreck of a situation, Mother had sat upright like a lone crane.

“It would hurt the company’s image more to involve you.”

Without much elaboration, she told me only what I needed to do. Don’t get involved. Pretend ignorance. Don’t bother contacting Father. Just stay quietly at Yido’s house like before.

“You’re not really family, so you won’t suffer any harm.”

It wasn’t said for my sake. It was a warning: stay outside the family circle. If I stayed quiet, the world would brand me an ungrateful adoptee. She knew all that, but not one word of consolation passed her lips.

“...What will you do now?”

It had taken me a long time to ask that question, afraid she might refuse even that. Afraid she might draw a line: you’re not family, you don’t need to know.

“I’m planning to divorce him.”

Thankfully, she had spoken her plans without hesitation. Fingering the large diamond on her wedding band, she lowered her gaze.

“We’ve already discussed it.”

Mother wasn’t part of Haesin Group. Minjae and Seoyoung were just students. None of what happened in the company would touch them. With a divorce, the only one affected would be Father.

“It’s cold to say, but the children have to live.”

It was a reasonable choice. If sacrificing one person could preserve the rest, then the tail had to be cut. And with Father’s agreement, there would be no dissent.

They say even when the rich fall, three generations can live off the remains. There was no need to worry about their livelihood. Their assets alone could sustain them for life. Minjae, perhaps, would need to curb his spending.

“I’ll make sure nothing touches you...”

Between words, she kept watching me too carefully. Not with the awkwardness of an adoptive parent, but as if I were someone delicate and dangerous to approach. That excess of caution only made me more uncomfortable.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“......”

Resting my chin in my hand, I stared at the rain outside. High humidity always sharpened the scent of things. Even now in the car, the smell of the leather seats was vivid.

“Let me ask again.”

Blinking slowly, I spoke out of the blue. A thought flickered—maybe I should go out and stand in the rain.

“What are you going to do, Mr. Kim?”

Was he promised a position by Yido? I wondered what he had gained in exchange for betraying Father. Or perhaps he’d never had loyalty to begin with. Maybe betrayal wasn’t even the right word.

“Nothing has been decided.”

This time, Mr. Kim answered without hesitation. Though it was the same as before, it didn’t feel like a lie. Turning the wheel smoothly, he added in a casual tone:

“For now, I need to undergo questioning tomorrow and handle some handovers. The secretary’s office is on alert, and there are a few things to settle.”

An unnecessarily diligent answer. He knew my question wasn’t about this week’s schedule. To get the answer I wanted, I had to be more direct.

“What did Mr. Kwon promise you?”

There is no contract in the world without conditions. I didn’t believe someone as meticulous as Mr. Kim had moved under threat alone. Whatever he gained, at the very least he wouldn’t have accepted a loss.

“It was simply a matter of interests aligning.”

His voice sounded oddly heavy. Like the colorless sky, his words were stripped of emotion, but their restraint was strangely steadying.

“I thought what the Chairman had done would come out sooner or later. There’s no such thing as a secret that can be kept forever.”

“...You were afraid?”

“...Yes.”

He acknowledged it plainly. Then he explained the source of his fear.

“I wasn’t afraid of losing my job. I was afraid of becoming someone without integrity.”

The words were light, but the weight they carried was heavier. Standing by Father, he must have endured far greater strain than I had realized.

“After you stepped down as Director, the Chairman grew more restless.”

For Mr. Kim, survival lay with Yido. For Mother, survival lay in divorce. For Father, survival had been in my engagement to Yido. And with that faltering, he too had grown desperate.

“I thought it best to find a way, rather than keep living so precariously.”

“......”

“It may sound ridiculous, but... I didn’t intend to betray the Chairman. I believed it was the right thing, even for his sake.”

“Father would be furious if he heard that.”

A laugh escaped me, inappropriate for the moment. I could already picture how Father would explode. He might even slap him, as he had done to me.

“And not telling your family about your number... that was partly so you could have some peace.”

This time, his words wavered with hesitation. As though his conscience balked at saying it was for my sake, a faint crease formed at his eyes.

“You seemed to be doing well in that house...”

He said he was most relieved to see my insomnia improving, how the amount of sleeping pills I took had dropped to a quarter. Even my doctor, Professor Choi, had half-joked about whether I was getting prescriptions elsewhere.

“I thought Executive Director Kwon truly cherished you.”

“...Mm.”

I could neither affirm nor deny. His feelings for me were real enough, but I still couldn’t gauge their depth. I couldn’t say whether cherish was the right word.

“I acted on my own. I’ll accept any reproach you see fit.”

Typical of Mr. Kim—the way he ended even this with utmost courtesy. Not that I had intended to scold him. Even if I had been angry, I doubt I could have lashed out.

“Reproach...”

With a faint laugh, I closed my eyes. While everyone else fought desperately, I alone seemed to have stopped. Once part of the machinery, now I felt like a wheel left turning with no cogs to fit into.

“What right do I have to reproach you, Mr. Kim?”

“......”

“You’re not even my secretary anymore.”