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Chapter 19
Strands of hair clung to her damp forehead. Yoon-jae’s lips curved into a gentle smile as he pointed them out.
“Not there.”
As he leaned down slightly, a fresh, sweet scent brushed past Soo-yeon. His smile—lips arched like a crescent moon—sent her heart into an uneven rhythm.
“There’s hair stuck to your forehead…”
“So, Secretary Chae, you should wipe it off for me.”
His unexpected words only deepened the flush in her cheeks.
“What are you waiting for? The water’s dripping.”
At his continued urging, Soo-yeon turned her gaze toward the window instead, stretching out a reluctant hand to rub his forehead with quick, awkward strokes. Yoon-jae let out a soft laugh that slipped past his lips.
“Thanks.”
Outside, rain poured relentlessly against the car window. Their mingled breath fogged the glass between them, and Yoon-jae’s chest rose with an unsteady thrum as he looked at her.
Her hair fell in a tousled mess. The rain still drummed against the car roof, filling the air with its ceaseless rhythm, while the heavy heat of a summer evening crowded the small space around them.
After dinner, Kim So-hye returned home and took Chairman Jung’s jacket.
“You must be tired. A business trip, and now straight to an event.”
“Tired? Not really. But you—you’re even more beautiful tonight.”
“You only say that because it’s me. I’m over fifty now; how could I ever compare to before?”
“Nonsense. Who would ever think you’re that age? Your beauty hasn’t faded, your figure hasn’t changed, and in bed—you’re still the best.”
“You’re shameless.”
“Since we’re on the subject… how about tonight? On that trip, I couldn’t sleep a wink without you. I missed you so much.”
Smiling faintly, Kim So-hye brushed his arm with her fingers.
“But earlier… that thing you said.”
Chairman Jung frowned as the memory returned.
“What did you mean, that Executive Director Jung is particularly fond of his secretary?”
“Exactly what I said. Ever since that new hire, Secretary Chae, he’s been practically obsessed. You saw it yourself—when I merely asked about the official appointment, he bristled immediately. You’ve no idea how much that one secretary has been getting under my skin.”
“Did something happen while I was away?”
“Well… I did pull her aside once, just for a quick word. But the way he blew up, scolding me for meeting his ‘person’ without his permission—you should have seen him.”
“What?”
“He even went so far as to declare that, from now on, all secretary appointments would fall solely under Manager Han’s authority. He practically threatened me.”
Chairman Jung’s temple throbbed with an ugly vein.
“There’s something unsettling about that Secretary Chae. The atmosphere she carries, her stiff manner of speech—there’s none of the softness a secretary should have.”
Her words blurred into an image in his mind: Soo-yeon, expressionless and composed, standing silently behind Yoon-jae.
“But the strangest part? That frosty demeanor of hers—it seems to work in her favor with the Director. Unlike the other secretaries, she’s cold and rigid, but her face? Beautiful enough to turn heads. Maybe that’s why he’s smitten. You know what they say about late-blooming passions being the fiercest.”
“Manager Han was the one who hired her, wasn’t he?”
“Exactly. And you know Han’s personality—rigid, uncompromising. If it weren’t for Father, he’d have been forced into early retirement ages ago. Now he’s gone and brought in a woman who’s basically his mirror image. Anyone would mistake her for his daughter.”
With her arm hooked in his, Kim So-hye’s eyes welled up theatrically.
“I’ve lived in this house for years, and yet I still call him Executive Director Jung. To me, he and Yu-geon are both my sons. But to him? I’ll never be anything more.”
Chairman Jung’s brows tightened.
“I know losing his mother so young must have scarred him deeply. But it wasn’t my fault that accident happened.”
“Why even bring that up?”
The day Kim So-hye first entered their home—he still remembered the eyes of young Yoon-jae, filled with resentment and hate. Eyes that had seared themselves into his memory like a brand.
“So what if I called his secretary over? Fake or not, I’m still his mother. How can I be equated with some newcomer who barely set foot in this house?”
“Fake? Don’t say that! No matter what anyone says, you are Jung Gil-su’s one and only wife, mistress of Do-won’s household.”
Their relationship had begun not long after his marriage.
He’d first met Kim So-hye at a year-end business gathering. There was no telling who made the first move—both fell hard and fast. She hadn’t cared he was married, and he hadn’t cared he was betraying his wife.
The affair carried on openly, his footsteps wearing down the threshold of her home. Even after Yoon-jae was born, he only grew more addicted to her.
Yoon-jae’s real mother had been the complete opposite. Her looks, her demeanor, her voice—everything. Even after she discovered his betrayal, even when she found out about the child, she never faltered, never lashed out. She only endured, clinging to the family. Her silence suffocated him.
So he had plunged deeper into Kim So-hye—the honeyed words, the sweet smiles, the way she melted his resolve. What began as a fling had ended with divorce papers.
But Yoon-jae had seen those papers, and the moment he did, his eyes turned cold. He knew the truth. He shut himself off and, just as his father wished, went abroad. Better distance than living under the same roof.
Since then, father and son had grown estranged. Time only thickened the wall between them until they were more distant than strangers.
In the meantime, Yoon-jae grew. He entered the company, excelled, earned accolades in architecture, expanded overseas. The name Jung Yoon-jae became known and respected. He gained recognition even as a businessman, backed by shareholders.
But pride as a father slowly curdled into jealousy. Fed further by Kim So-hye’s whispers, suspicion took root until Chairman Jung could no longer see clearly.
His son was no longer just a son. He was becoming a rival.
“I try to open my heart, but no matter what, I’ll always be the stepmother.”
Watching Kim So-hye’s tears gather, Chairman Jung’s chest tightened with anger.
“Foolish brat. All this over some secretary? I’ll have words with him. Don’t worry.”
Again, the memory of Soo-yeon returned—her cold, expressionless face, her unshaken posture beside Yoon-jae. It made his blood boil.
“What if we found him a bride instead? He’s been alone too long, knows nothing but work. If he marries, maybe he’ll finally settle down.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“I’ve already looked. Minister Seol Chan-dae—you know him, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“He has a daughter, a world-renowned painter. I spoke with a mutual acquaintance of his wife and arranged a little push.”
“My So-hye has an eye for these things. I’ll call that boy in and make sure he accepts the match this time. Really, no one thinks of Yoon-jae’s future more than you do.”
“Of course. He’s my son too.”
With her cheek pressed to his chest, Kim So-hye’s lips curved in a secret smile.
When they reached Soo-yeon’s home, the rain still hadn’t stopped.
Soaked through, Yoon-jae shrugged off his vest, his pressed shirt clinging to the muscular contours beneath.
“Doesn’t look like it’ll stop anytime soon.”
His lips, parched and tight despite his drenched body, made Soo-yeon clench her fingers.
“One time, I wished every drop of water in the world would dry up.”
He rested his arm on the steering wheel, speaking almost to himself. Soo-yeon’s eyes lingered on his profile.
“The drains aren’t working. The street’s flooded. At this rate, the neighborhood will be underwater.”
“I should go. Thank you for the ride.”
“Why so hasty? Like you’re running away. Do I make you that uncomfortable?”
“That’s not it.”
As she reached for the door, his voice stopped her.
“At least wait until the rain eases.”
“It’s late. Driving in this weather is dangerous. You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you, Director. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hurried out of the car, the rain swallowing her figure. Yoon-jae’s gaze followed her retreating back.
