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Chapter 8
What was he thinking?
Without even realizing, Yoon Jin-woo dialed the number he had memorized earlier. The slow dial tone echoed through his phone speaker.
— “Who is this?”
“Why didn’t you come?”
— …
Only silence. Her faint breathing filled the empty air.
Beyond the door, the birthday party continued in noisy chaos, but inside his room, it was utterly still. It felt as though the world was split in two—separated by that single door.
The silence dragged on.
He thought bitterly: Say something. Anything. Ask how I got your number, mock me for winning the bet, tell me I’m pathetic. Anything would be better than this silence.
Even if she just hung up, it would be less suffocating.
One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes passed.
He knew that if he spoke first, he would fall into her rhythm. And yet, he had no choice but to break the silence.
“What are you thinking right now?”
— “…What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I’ll give you credit—you managed to date my brother for three months. But is there really a woman alive who doesn’t know he’s complete trash?”
— “Don’t meddle in my relationship with him.”
“I don’t care what you two do. But you should at least keep your promises.”
— “So you stalked me? You fought with your brother, dug up my number, and now you’re calling me?”
Her sarcasm bit at him. Jin-woo got up from the bed and leaned against the wall.
He wasn’t much of a smoker, but strangely, whenever it came to Kang Da-som, his throat burned as if he needed one.
He let out a breath, lowering his voice.
“Why are you so sharp with me?”
— “Because you started this… Never mind. Just stay out of it. If my brother finds out I spoke with you, what do you think he’ll do?”
“Besides throwing a fit? Nothing.”
— “And how are you going to handle that fit?”
“Let me get this straight. It’s fine for him to fight with you about another woman, but it’s not fine for you to speak with his younger brother for a minute? That’s some double standard. If it bothers you that much, just delete the call log when we’re done.”
I’ll pretend it never happened.
He should’ve added that—but for some reason, the words caught in his throat.
Why? Was it because he didn’t want to pretend it never happened?
“I had a meeting with Studio UKE last week.”
— “…Why are you telling me this?”
“Studio UKE—the company with the drama rights for the novel you mentioned.”
After she had told him about it, Jin-woo had read the novel Exiled from Paradise. Romance wasn’t usually his thing—he had hesitated for a long time before picking it up. But once he did, it only took him a few days to finish.
When he contacted the studio, they were surprised—asking how he had known.
“Let’s meet in person. We’ll talk then.”
— “Are you at home?”
“Where else would I be?”
— “I mean the family house. Your brother said you almost never attend family events.”
“I just didn’t go because I was busy.”
Even to his own ears, it sounded like an obvious lie.
— “…Alright then. I’ll see you at the house.”
She hung up first.
Jin-woo slumped down onto the floor, still holding the phone.
“Hey, Dasom, who are you talking to for so long?”
His brother’s voice echoed faintly through the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps.
Jin-woo turned the phone in his hand.
“What the hell am I doing?”
He could’ve ignored everything. This wasn’t like him.
[Delete call history?]
Jin-woo erased the call record.
But he didn’t delete the number.
A few hours earlier.
The view from the tallest restaurant in Seoul was breathtaking at dusk.
The space was large enough for thirty people, but it had been partitioned off for just one table. From the third-story glass wall, the city stretched endlessly beneath them.
Not long after Kang Da-som arrived, a man appeared.
He was dressed head to toe in luxury brands, but in a quiet, understated way.
As he sat at the round table, his secretary approached.
“Sir, should I bring the meal…?”
“In thirty minutes. Just coffee for now. Do you want dessert?”
The man glanced at Da-som, who was sipping her coffee. Though his face betrayed little, he was clearly surprised.
“Something that isn’t too sweet. We’ll be eating later.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And everyone, leave us.”
“Yes, sir.”
Soon the room emptied, leaving only the two of them. Even the chef, who had brought the dessert himself, stepped out.
Finally, the man leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on her.
He was Kang Jong-woo, CEO of Night Investment.
“Two months ago, an anonymous letter arrived at my office. It claimed Quantum was manipulating stock prices. At first, I thought it was an inside job, so I investigated—but found nothing.”
Quantum’s stock manipulation was something Jin-woo had been investigating at the company. Until it went public, secrecy had been absolute.
So who had known beforehand?
“Then a second letter came.”
He dropped a thick envelope onto the table.
In this day and age, a physical letter was strange—but the details inside were impossible to ignore.
“The first time, I wasted time searching for a mole. Meanwhile, Quantum’s short selling was still underway. But the second time was different.”
He traced the trail back. The courier said he was only a middleman, passing along what someone else gave him. Step by step, the search led him to Min Yu-rim, an employee at Cheonmyeong Department Store’s Gangnam branch.
But a VIP saleswoman would never do this on her own. When her client list was checked, one name stood out—Kang Da-som.
She smiled faintly, setting her cup down. The red glow of sunset through the glass made her seem even more radiant.
“Nice to meet you. Or should I say—it’s our first time, isn’t it?”
“……”
“Though it feels like you already know me. Or am I imagining things?”
“Maybe I should’ve ordered wine instead of coffee.”
“You still can. After all, this is a family reunion.”
“You know who I am?”
“Big brother.”
Before the eldest, Kang Young-jun, was born, their father already had another woman.
When Jong-woo was born, Chairman Kang soon married Seo Mi-young. His mother passed away, and he was sent to an orphanage.
“Or should I call you Daniel Miller?”
Her English was crisp and fluent. Jong-woo smirked.
He had been adopted into the wealthy Miller family in America. After an elite education, he now ran Night Investment.
“I envy you, oppa.”
“You’ve only just met me—why call me that?”
“Because you’ve been watching me for a while. Isn’t that right?”
“I never—”
“Team leader Baek Sung-tae, from Strategic Planning. He works for you. I know.”
“…Let’s get to the point.”
Baek Sung-tae—the man who once handed her car keys, who had shadowed Young-jun since the day he took over management.
UL Wire will be sold overseas.
The general public barely even knew what UL Wire did. Some thought it was just a company making telephone poles. But when word spread it might be sold to foreign owners, the nation erupted in outrage, calling it betrayal.
Jong-woo had sharpened his blade of revenge against his father for a lifetime.
And even after being thrown back into the past—nothing had changed.
“I want to invest.”
“We don’t accept pocket change.”
“As your informant—and as family—let me in just a little.”
He glanced down at the documents on the table.
He had already read them more than a hundred times.
Elon.
The hottest hydrogen self-driving truck company in America. Everyone was pouring money into it. And yet the letter claimed it was a scam.
At first, he thought it was nonsense. But Quantum had proven otherwise, so he dug deeper.
Less than a week after Quantum’s short-selling ended, he was knee-deep in suspicions.
Hydrogen self-driving trucks—a scam spanning the entire United States.
“Do you have money saved up?”
