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Chapter 7
After stepping out of the shower, Suyeon headed straight for the kitchen.
Now that the day’s relentless tension—tension that had made her heart pound like a drum—was finally behind her, hunger struck with a vengeance. Preparing for her entrance into Do-won Construction had left her no time for proper meals. She had survived on stomach medicine and sheer willpower.
Opening the cupboard, she found neatly arranged rows of cup noodles, instant rice, ready-made soups, and nurungji packs—instant meals lined up as though on parade.
She popped an instant rice pack into the microwave, added a few side dishes she had bought at a local shop, and sat down at her desk with Jung Yoon-jae’s file spread before her.
Her pupils trembled as she stared at the pages.
What am I even looking at right now?
Inside the folder lay a single handwritten sheet, the letters scrawled in a hurried hand.
― Wake up at 8 a.m. Sleep by 10 p.m. No contact before or after set working hours.
― No calls or texts on weekends.
― Do not schedule more than two meetings per week.
― Strict confidentiality; no leaks of personal information.
― No cleaning or arranging personal belongings. No fresh flowers in the office.
― No forcing health drinks or supplements under the pretext of “good for you.”
Her eyes snagged on the final line, and she choked on air, coughing until her chest hurt.
― While serving as secretary to the Do-won Construction Managing Director, romantic relationships within the company are strictly forbidden.
It’s not like I’m planning to date anyone right now… But even if I were, what does that have to do with him?
So does that mean it’s fine as long as it’s outside the company?
Eighteen years of distance hadn’t dulled the way her heart raced the moment she saw Yoon-jae’s face. She’d done her best to hide her nerves, to look unfazed, but her chest had thudded so hard it felt ready to burst.
As Jung Yoon-jae grew from twelve into a thirty-year-old man, little Chae Su-yeon had grown into a woman.
She downed a glass of cold water in one gulp. Even then, thirst clawed at her throat, so she filled the cup twice more with iced water before finally resting.
And as the cool liquid slid down her throat, memories surfaced—memories from eighteen years ago.
It was the day of the first peach harvest. Yoon-jae had approached her, stretching out a hand.
“I’m Jung Yoon-jae.”
“I’ve heard.”
“That day, you disappeared so suddenly, I didn’t even get your name.”
“Why do you need it?”
“Didn’t you hear what the adults say? If we’re only a year or two apart, we’re friends. Let’s be friends.”
“Who said I’d be your friend?”
“Then… how about ‘oppa’?”
“Says who?”
“If you don’t want friend or oppa… then should we date?”
“What?”
“Boyfriend. Girlfriend.”
Even at twelve—or thirty—Jung Yoon-jae always managed to exceed expectations.
That same night, after the villagers had feasted on food and drink provided by Chairman Jung, seven crates of the finest peaches and a shopping bag were delivered to Yong-soon’s guesthouse.
When Suyeon opened the bag, her mouth fell open.
Inside was a peach-colored dress that looked fit for a princess, matching shoes, a blue-ribboned hat, and a small handwritten card.
― Sorry for ruining your pretty clothes and hat. I thought these would suit you. I hope you’ll like them.
Back then, the words had been neatly printed, each letter pressed carefully onto the page. Now, Yoon-jae’s writing had become a rushed scrawl, the boy’s tenderness buried beneath layers of time.
For a brief moment, past and present collided in her mind like clashing waves.
Early the next morning.
Because commuting took over two hours, Suyeon rushed through her preparations. If she wanted to uncover the secrets behind her parents’ deaths, she first needed to gain Jung Yoon-jae’s trust.
She put on a dark-colored suit—similar shade, different design from yesterday—grabbed her bag, and headed out the door.
At the office, she tidied Yoon-jae’s desk and the secretary’s room with efficient hands.
“Secretary Chae, could you step over here a moment?”
It was the staff member who had been covering the vacancy before her. He beckoned Suyeon into the break room, where a gleaming Italian espresso machine stood.
“The Managing Director makes his own espresso every morning. Let me show you how to use this.”
The room was stocked like a luxury café: high-end coffee machines, assorted cookies and chocolates, even a corner library stacked with books of every field.
Compared to the offices where she’d worked before, this was another world. She had gone from stirring powdered instant coffee to learning the functions of a machine that probably cost more than her monthly salary.
When the clock struck ten, Jung Yoon-jae entered his office.
“Good morning, Managing Director.”
Suyeon, following the instructions she’d been given, brewed an espresso and knocked softly on his door.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“I thought maybe you’d run away overnight. Guess not.”
She placed the cup on the table and stole a glance at him.
A man to whom suits seemed to cling naturally. Gone was the gentle boy with the soft smile; in his place stood a man carved with bold, unyielding lines.
“Secretary Chae, isn’t that a little too obvious?”
“…Excuse me?”
“You’re staring. Very openly.”
Catching her gaze, Yoon-jae tilted his mouth into a teasing smile.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the building—
“Madam.”
Byun, a manager who had long maintained a private rapport with Kim So-hye, rose the moment she entered. Once the door closed, his demeanor flipped. He slipped an arm around her waist.
“What brings you here? Surely not just because you missed me.”
“Are you insane? What if someone walks in?”
“No one’s getting in. I’ve made sure. Even the CCTV is off.”
Byun’s voice dripped with lust as his hand roamed, his lips curled in a smirk. Their affair stretched back to before So-hye became the matriarch of Do-won Group. Without her backing, he’d never have climbed so high in the company. He was intoxicated by her youthful looks, addicted to her.
“Next week, our Gun is coming back. You know that?”
“Of course.”
“He should have had that position ages ago. Instead, Yoon-jae stole it. Even now, I grind my teeth just thinking about it.”
“Do-won belongs to Director Jung Yu-gun, doesn’t it?”
“What’s the point of being a director when he deserves to be president?”
“He will be soon.”
“Make sure of it.”
“There’s no question.”
His hand stroked her thigh even as they spoke.
“By the way… I hear Yoon-jae hired a new secretary. Without telling you.”
“What?”
“He cut off all the ones you’d planted. Brought in someone new, with Chief Han’s help, I’m guessing.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What kind of woman is she?”
“I haven’t met her yet. But if you’re so curious, why not drop by yourself? A mother visiting her son at work isn’t suspicious. Or I can dig into it for you.”
“A son, my foot. Forget it—I’ll handle it.”
And with that, Kim So-hye stood and swept out.
One week later, Monday morning.
Chief Han arrived earlier than usual, a file tucked under his arm. He entered Yoon-jae’s office with a polite smile.
“Good morning, Managing Director.”
Yoon-jae arched a brow.
“Warm day, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. At this rate, spring and autumn may vanish altogether, leaving only summer and winter.”
He chuckled lightly, but Yoon-jae’s gaze sharpened.
“I recall you used to enjoy summer and winter, didn’t you?”
“Did I?”
Yoon-jae moved to the sofa. “Your early visit must mean something.”
“It does. Another secretary will be joining you today.”
“Another secretary? I never approved that. Isn’t Secretary Chae enough?”
“She is capable, but her driving skills are limited. You have a chauffeur, yes, but there are times when flexibility matters. And as for myself… well, age has caught up. My eyes, my reflexes—they’re not what they were.”
Yoon-jae studied the silver streaks in Han’s hair, the lines at his brow.
“So I hired another secretary last week.”
Before Yoon-jae could respond, a knock came.
“Managing Director, the new secretary is here.”
The door opened, and a man with an easy smile and bright eyes stepped inside with Suyeon at his side.
“Perfect timing,” Han said. “This is the new secretary I mentioned.”
“Pleased to meet you. My name is Kwon Tae-min.”
Yoon-jae rose and extended his hand.
“Welcome.”
They shook hands—but even as they exchanged greetings, Yoon-jae’s gaze lingered not on Tae-min, but on Suyeon.
