As it was, he had been racking his brain over how to convince Kwon Gi-jeong to go see Chairman Kwon.
Gi-jeong had said he would stop by in the morning, but had simply gone straight to work instead.
It was something that happened all the time.
But for Secretary Lee, who had to deal with the fallout, it was exhausting every single day.
So when he heard that a guest had gone into the Chairman’s office, he thought he’d bought himself a little time — that it had worked out well.
But then he was told that the guest was Park Seo-in, and Secretary Lee’s vision went white.
He immediately informed Kwon Gi-jeong of this — and Kwon Gi-jeong had headed straight for the Chairman’s office, and this whole mess had unfolded.
“……Gi-jeong.”
Secretary Lee’s body went rigid.
The suffocating silence that had been pressing down on them shattered — and as if that weren’t enough, Seo-in’s voice from behind him was flat and even.
“My arm hurts.”
Kwon Gi-jeong released the fingers he’d been gripping with.
The envelope that had been yanked this way and that in Seo-in’s hand was close to a crumpled wreck.
He raised his newly freed arm to his chest and kneaded his wrist repeatedly.
Kwon Gi-jeong’s low voice followed.
“You came all the way here, and you didn’t think to call me?”
“……”
To be fair — Seo-in had known Kwon Gi-jeong would come.
In fact, it had been Seo-in who sent Secretary General Kim out the door.
But he couldn’t very well say that.
When Seo-in stayed silent for a moment, the coolness in Kwon Gi-jeong eased somewhat.
“It must have been difficult. Father has such a fiery temper.”
“Like you.”
“……”
Secretary Lee stared at the floor numbers as though he hadn’t heard a single word.
He just wanted to reach the 47th floor and get off as fast as possible.
“Am I really like that?”
Seo-in didn’t answer.
Instead, he simply held out the arm he’d been rubbing.
“I think it’s going to bruise tomorrow — what are you going to do about it?”
The suit sleeve slid down slightly, and a red mark stood out against the pale skin of his wrist.
Kwon Gi-jeong had grabbed and yanked him without any control over his own strength.
Even without that, Seo-in would have followed.
Ding — a clear, bright sound rang out.
The elevator had arrived at the 47th floor.
As the doors opened, Secretary Lee shot out first.
Seo-in followed, and then Kwon Gi-jeong stepped off.
“You want compensation for it?”
Seo-in turned his body at an angle toward Kwon Gi-jeong, who was standing behind him.
“It’s not worth making a fuss over something like this. Still — I think it does need to be treated at a hospital. Could you put in a word? Yeonbaek Hospital.”
“I’m not so sure. It doesn’t look like it’ll bruise.”
“It hurts more than it looks.”
“If it actually bruises, say something then.”
Saying that, Kwon Gi-jeong walked ahead.
Secretary Lee, who had already opened the door to the executive office and was giving instructions for tea to be brought, fixed his gaze on one spot.
He stood holding the door handle, as though waiting for Seo-in to come through.
Seo-in’s subdued gaze settled on the crumpled envelope.
If there had been just a little more time, he might have been able to make his case.
As things stood now, it must have sounded like empty words.
Anyone would have felt that way — but the Chairman Kwon Bu-geon that Seo-in knew was someone who required a more careful, measured approach.
Not just because of the wisdom that came from the long years he’d lived — he was a man who was coldly perceptive when it came to reading people.
He had been rushed and blurted out the matter about Lady Go Eun-ju, but if there had been a little more time……
If only he had come a little later.
Creak.
Kwon Gi-jeong had gone in ahead and taken a seat on the sofa.
His gaze fixed slowly on Seo-in as he made his way inside.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Kwon Gi-jeong studied his expression, then parted his lips quietly.
“It looks like you were in the middle of asking Father for something.”
“……”
Seo-in’s lips wouldn’t part.
He had thought that since Kwon Gi-jeong showed little interest in others, he would show equally little interest in his feelings — and had believed from the start that he was managing his expression well enough.
And yet, every now and then, Gi-jeong would do exactly this — act as though he had seen straight through to what was underneath.
Kwon Gi-jeong’s gaze dropped to the envelope in Seo-in’s hand as he drew closer.
On the crumpled exterior was the Horim Savings Bank logo.
“So that’s why you’re looking at me like you resent me.”
“I don’t resent you.”
“Your eyes right now say exactly that.”
Terribly insolent. Kwon Gi-jeong leaned back against the sofa.
Seo-in slowly settled onto the long sofa.
Naturally, Kwon Gi-jeong’s gaze drifted downward.
“Did I come too early? If I hadn’t, you’d have been making requests to Father on behalf of my marriage partner’s qualifications — with those.”
“Those?”
Seo-in hesitated, puzzled by Kwon Gi-jeong’s words.
At that, Kwon Gi-jeong tilted his chin as if to drive the point home.
“What’s in that hand of yours. You brought that to show Father, didn’t you?”
Seo-in slowly folded the envelope in half and set it beside him.
It was already so crumpled that folding it didn’t make it any worse.
Secretary Lee received the tray directly from a staff member.
It seemed deliberate — a way to cut off any outside ears from the exchange between the two.
He placed teacups in front of Kwon Gi-jeong and Park Seo-in, then stepped back.
Now there were only the two of them inside.
“I was going to leave right away.”
Seo-in wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Kwon Gi-jeong seemed to have no intention of letting that happen.
“Why won’t you answer what I asked?”
“Yes, I did bring it to show him.”
Seo-in glanced at the half-folded envelope.
Kwon Gi-jeong’s words weren’t entirely wrong.
“And it sounds like you came to ask for something, too?”
“……That could be part of it.”
“So it isn’t?”
Kwon Gi-jeong was staring at Seo-in’s eyes with unnerving composure.
As if to say — go on, say it straight with that mouth of yours.
Seo-in’s lips moved faintly.
Well — when you thought about it, persuading Chairman Kwon and making a request of him was the natural order of things. After all, whatever he needed to do required the Chairman’s approval. So the thread of what Kwon Gi-jeong was saying wasn’t wrong.
The tension drained from Seo-in’s shoulders.
“You’re right. There’s something I wanted to ask of Chairman Kwon.”
You have to pick your audience when you’re trying to be evasive.
He had intended to raise the matter with Chairman Kwon first — and after that, Kwon Gi-jeong would inevitably find out anyway.
Seo-in looked at Kwon Gi-jeong, who had managed to pull the words out of him after all.
He had already lived as this man’s husband for just over two years.
During that time, Seo-in had tried in every way he could to read and adjust to Gi-jeong’s shifts in mood.
And from that, Seo-in had learned — no matter how hard he tried to redirect the conversation, it was pointless.
Kwon Gi-jeong, who showed so little interest in the people around him, had an unexpectedly tenacious side to him at times.
“Were you trying to get money out of Father?”
Seo-in’s gaze landed on the folded envelope.
He looked down at the Horim Savings Bank logo on the front.
It seemed Kwon Gi-jeong had seen it and assumed it was an investment proposal — a misunderstanding, perhaps.
He hadn’t even had the chance to properly speak with Chairman Kwon yet. Saying anything to Kwon Gi-jeong now would only tangle things further.
Seo-in turned it over in his mind for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“I received word that Chairman Kwon wanted to see me. So I came to pay my respects.”
“And while you were at it, ask for an investment too?”
Kwon Gi-jeong settled back against the sofa as if to say he was ready to hear more.
“Go on.”
Kwon Gi-jeong’s posture tilted slightly to one side.
And in response, Seo-in’s lips pressed into a slight pout.
“My performance from last year is in the negatives. So I was going to ask Chairman Kwon for some advice.”
