I knew it too. Human relationships weren’t that simple. It was such an obvious truth, so simple that it was impossible not to know.

But knowing with the head and accepting with the heart were vastly different things. The day the fragile fence of family finally collapsed, I had thought my ties with Mr. Kim were over as well. At the very least, I had concluded on my own that we could never return to the relationship we once had.

“To the young master, I may be just a secretary, but...”

“...No.”

Folding my arms, I covered my mouth with one hand. My feelings were too complicated to express, but my mind was calm. His words about me being like a child, and about not pushing him away too much, lingered faintly in my ears.

“That’s not what it is.”

On the day of the engagement, the only one who worried about me was Mr. Kim. On the day I entered Kwon Yido’s house, the only one I had gone to greet was also Mr. Kim. It wasn’t because he was a secretary, but because he had always looked after me.

“I understand what you meant, Mr. Kim.”

Yido had asked me that—whether I was the type to depend heavily on a secretary. I had been so accustomed to Mr. Kim that even drunk, I would call out for him. The fact that such daily life had broken apart had left me with a sense of loss, but now I felt almost nothing.

“......”

“......”

He didn’t say anything to me as I sat in silence. As if giving me time to think, he kept his mouth shut for a while. It wasn’t until the company came into view in the distance that he finally spoke softly.

“Thank you for understanding.”

By then, the car had entered the parking lot. Even then I was staring endlessly out the window. Mr. Kim stepped out of the driver’s seat, came to the back, and opened the door for me with formal politeness. The movement was mechanical, yet the words he added sounded strangely friendly.

“I look forward to working with you, President.”

“......”

The title had changed from young master back to President. It probably wouldn’t change again anytime soon. It didn’t leave me particularly disappointed, so I gave a small laugh as I replied.

“Yes, I look forward to it.”

***

The following days passed in a blur of busyness. With the event right around the corner, everything was hectic. These were tasks I had never handled at Haesin Financial, but thanks to all I had learned recently, I didn’t stumble too much.

Ahead of the event, I handed an invitation to Kwon Yido as well. As the largest investor in “Sejin,” he had to be first in line. One had already been sent formally, but I intended to express my thanks again in private.

'Tomorrow, finally.'

Yido had studied the invitation I handed him with a sweet smile. He had lifted the scent strip to his nose, inhaled, then let the corner of his lips curve lazily. The gesture overflowed with his characteristic ease, and I ended up saying something unnecessary.

'You don’t have to overdo it.'

I knew well enough how busy he was. There was no real need for him to show his face at a mere perfume launch. If it had been business, one of his representatives would have come in his place.

'I should overdo it. This is the event you created, Jung Sejin-ssi.'

But he had said it as if it were obvious. Strictly speaking, it was his event, yet he gave me all the credit. I still remembered the playful words he had added, after folding the invitation carefully and setting it on the table.

'I’ll be looking forward to it, President Jung Sejin.'

“President.”

“...Ah.”

I raised my head quickly. In front of me, Mr. Kim lowered his gaze to check the time. A large tablet PC was in his hand.

“Have you reviewed the schedule? If not, I’ll go over it again.”

“No...”

I trailed off and glanced into the mirror before me. The staff room next to the Libra Hall banquet venue at the Myeongseong Hotel. In the wide mirror on the wall, I saw my reflection in a formal suit.

“I’ve reviewed it.”

At last, the day of the long-awaited launch event had arrived. The day “Sejin” would be revealed to the world, and the scents I had prepared would be introduced widely. They weren’t perfumes I had personally created, but they would be the first products sold under my name, with reservations beginning today.

Normally I dressed as simply as possible, but today I had paid attention to my appearance. I wore a light-colored suit I rarely wore, and a distinctively designed watch I rarely put on. As always on important days, I styled my hair neatly back from my forehead.

“Let’s go.”

I adjusted my attire once more, then left the staff room with Mr. Kim. At the entrance, Lee Taeseong silently fell in behind me. With Mr. Kim reinstated as secretary, Taeseong had returned to his role as driver and guard.

“...Are you nervous?”

As we walked down the hall toward the banquet hall, Mr. Kim asked softly. Perhaps my stiff expression had been visible to him. It wasn’t enough to warrant worry, but instead of denying it, I simply shrugged.

“I’ve lived too quietly for too long.”

The media had been curiously silent about me. They had reported Chairman Jung Cheol-ho’s arrest and divorce, but nothing about what became of his omega foster son. I vaguely assumed Yido had intervened.

But after today, articles about me would inevitably appear. Supplying Seonho in secret and officially launching a brand were two different matters. It would be formally declared that Jung Sejin, former Haesin division head, had started a new business.

“I do worry about how people will react.”

Even if Yido had told me not to think about profit margins, this was still business. At the very least, I had to save face with Seonho as an investor. Even if it didn’t make a huge success, it couldn’t be a failure. There was too much at stake.

“In that case, I don’t think you need to worry.”

Mr. Kim replied lightly, as if it were needless. And he wasn’t wrong. With the Myeongseong Hotel venue, immediate distribution through major department stores, failure would be difficult. Starting far ahead of others—perhaps worry was a luxury.

“Well... let’s just say it’s a matter of mood.”

I fiddled with my watch, turning my gaze aside. The tension wasn’t just from those concerns. After this launch, once the weekend came, I would have to finally deal with the last task I had been putting off.

“It’d be best if things start smoothly.”

Call it the first button. If I fastened it right, the rest would go well. To do that, today’s event had to be flawless. The result of what Yido had prepared, and what I had willingly embraced and cultivated with my own hands.

***

The hall we had rented for the event was smaller than that of Seonho’s anniversary. A designer from the Myeongseong Hotel had handled the interior, and I had discussed perfume placement with the staff. We separated the flagship products from the more divisive ones, decorating them according to the flow of the hall.

Since it was a perfume launch, the atmosphere inside was carefully scented. Diffusers were placed discreetly around the entrance and hall, and small candles were lit near displays. Sample bottles and scent strips were laid out, with spacing adjusted to keep scents from mixing.

I checked the guest gifts—perfume samples and car diffusers—carefully for packaging defects. On the walls, postcards were hung at intervals for guests to choose and include in their gift packaging.

“President, it’s time to get ready.”

After one last look around, I headed to the stage as the guests began to arrive. The hall was fuller than expected. Out of habit, I searched for familiar faces before quickly steadying myself.

'We may not speak.'

He had said he would come, but not that he would speak to me. I no longer wore the ring, and there was nothing outside to mark our connection. Even if he did come, he might simply shake hands like a stranger.

“Please watch your step, President.”

I thanked Mr. Kim with a look and climbed the stairs. The host, holding the microphone, bowed to me. I walked over, looked once around the hall, and accepted the microphone. The host cleared his throat and began.

“Honored guests, may I have your attention for a moment.”

All eyes turned toward me. The event had been designed for a relaxed atmosphere, but it still had to begin with the basics: a greeting, a brief product explanation. With a prepared script, it wasn’t difficult.

“First of all...”

I began slowly, wearing the practiced smile I had long used. I raised the corners of my mouth lightly, eyes smiling without excess. It had to be appropriately businesslike, as when meeting clients or employees.

“Thank you for coming to the launch of ‘Sejin.’”

The moment I began to speak, my mind calmed. Addressing people wasn’t difficult, and this wasn’t a stage where I was being judged. I didn’t need to act like someone’s good son, or like a humble heir raised with love.

“I am Jung Sejin, President.”

Applause thundered immediately. Half the faces familiar, half not. Eyes that might once have judged me now looked only peaceful, filled with expectation and interest.

“Today, taking this opportunity...”

The words I had memorized flowed naturally. I thanked the investors, praised the employees who had worked hard. Before introducing the package story, I presented the small gifts “Sejin” had prepared.

“At ‘Sejin,’ we...”

The distant sense of reality gradually returned as I spoke. I was standing here, and all eyes were on me. Realizing that fact, a sudden thought struck me.

“...I recommend you begin by sampling the products.”

I wanted to see Yido. For whatever reason, I wanted him in front of me. I wanted another confirmation that this moment wasn’t a dream.

But no matter how I scanned the hall, he wasn’t there. He had said he would come. Had he not arrived yet? Someone like him would be noticeable, yet not even a glimpse of his hair could be seen.

“I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

The speech ended, and applause rose again. Guests smiled warmly, staff gave me secret thumbs-ups. But still, among them all, Yido was nowhere to be found.

***

“Great work!”

“Thank you for your efforts, President!”

“Get home safe!”

The noisy voices sounded like a drunken haze. Some slurred, others shouted too loudly. I smiled as kindly as I could at the staff bowing and swaying unsteadily.

“Go home safe, and come in late tomorrow.”

The launch was a success, followed by a company dinner. In place of the usual barbecue, we had a Japanese restaurant with a course meal. Staff ate their fill of seafood and sashimi, drank sake until flushed, and left the restaurant cheerfully drunk.

“I’ll drive you home.”

I got into the car where Lee Taeseong was waiting, pressing my sore eyes. Mr. Kim had been dismissed early, so Taeseong had stayed until the end. He glanced at me once, then slowly started the car.

“......”

Dark scenery swept past. Signboard lights left streaks on my vision. After all the noise earlier, the car felt unusually silent.

“...Taeseong-ssi.”

“Yes.”

I blinked slowly, calling him. The launch had gone well, and reservations exceeded expectations. The reception of the new scents wasn’t bad—no one had said anything unkind, not even in jest.

“It’s nothing really...”

Then why this heaviness? Why the emptiness, the futility pressing in? The reason was clear.

“Did you see Kwon Yido today?”

'I should overdo it. This is the event you created, Jung Sejin-ssi.'

He had promised, but in the end he hadn’t come. I had thought at least he would show his face, even if we didn’t speak. But until the very last moment, he hadn’t appeared.

It was impossible I had simply missed him. He was a man of immense presence—if he had walked in, all eyes would have followed. I had greeted every guest, and he hadn’t been among them.

“No, I didn’t see him today.”

Taeseong’s voice was calm. So it wasn’t just °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° me. Hearing confirmation from someone else, my mind went cold.

“...I see.”

When had disappointment become so easy for me? My voice dropped without my meaning it to. Childish or not, I felt a surge of resentment. He shouldn’t have said he’d overdo it. If not that, then he shouldn’t have smiled so sweetly. One thought led to another, dragging my mood lower.

Perhaps Yido had spoiled me too much. That I could feel such entitlement without knowing the circumstances. That I could feel this much regret when I had told him myself not to push himself.

The car carried me home as my thoughts tangled. I tried to shake them off, but nothing changed. By the time I arrived, my mood was only worse, and I couldn’t even manage my expression as I got out.

“See you tomorrow, President.”

I returned Taeseong’s bow and headed for the elevator. I kept running through what I might say if I saw Yido.

But the moment I opened the door, all those carefully rehearsed words vanished.

“You’re late.”

That elegant voice greeted me. Though it was late, he was still in a suit, his hair set as in the morning. Had he been working until now? I wondered, even as the words slipped out.

“...You must have been busy.”

His sharp eyes blinked slowly. His dark pupils gazed straight into mine without wavering. Then his lips parted.

“I was.”

He said it, then tilted his head slightly. Why did it feel like the downward glance was lying? Without even knowing what I was asking, Yido added calmly.

“Something came up suddenly.”