A cold air clung to Gi-jeong’s finely sculpted features. To his side sat a window overlooking the entire city skyline in one sweeping glance. Reflected in it was the image of Secretary Lee, whose head was slowly bowing lower.
“But…… this time, he’s certain……”
Lowering his voice as though passing along a secret that no one else should hear — that wasn’t something meant for a report.
A private room in a high-rise building. This place belonged to Kwon Gi-jeong.
It had been set up to facilitate smooth communication with key figures and to host meetings. As such, the interior changed to suit each occasion. From the very beginning of its design, it had been built with a meticulous layout that ensured the comings and goings of different people would never cross paths.
Today, too, it was Secretary Lee Dae-hyeon who had selected this venue. He was well acquainted with the temperament of Executive Director Kwon Gi-jeong, whom he served.
And it wasn’t as though this was a recent development — every time the Executive Director occupied this space around evening, he would lay bare his foul mood with this level of bluntness. Lately, it had only grown worse, becoming increasingly difficult to manage.
In truth, it made sense that Kwon Gi-jeong would be this on edge.
Secretary Lee hesitated and drew his upper body back slightly. He deliberately put distance between them in response to the sheer pressure emanating from the man. Looking at him on the surface, Kwon Gi-jeong possessed striking features and an air of refinement that commanded attention. But anyone who truly knew his nature would find themselves instinctively shrinking back.
Kwon Gi-jeong, Executive Director of Yeonbaek Pharmaceutical Group. He was an extreme dominant alpha — the heir Chairman Kwon had struggled to conceive late in life.
As such, there had never been a reason for him, by birth, to ask anything of anyone. He had only ever needed to command or give orders. Naturally, Kwon Gi-jeong had lived an arrogant and indulgent life. He was the kind of man who couldn’t feel settled unless things went exactly as he pleased.
And yet — that very Kwon Gi-jeong was now to be bound in marriage to someone he hadn’t chosen. Of course he would be this twisted up about it.
“What do you think? Marrying me.”
“……!”
Could there be anything more abrupt than hearing a marriage proposal at a first meeting?
Park Seo-in’s hands — holding a fork and knife — stopped moving for a moment. The meat he’d only been making a show of cutting, half-mashed by now, released a stream of red liquid that drew a vivid, blood-red line across the white plate.
“……”
In the window, now darkened with the evening, Seo-in’s elegant features were reflected. He — with his delicate, finely assembled face — was gazing at Kwon Gi-jeong across from him with those striking eyes, as though questioning his own ears.
After passing through several checkpoints at the building entrance, the door had been opened once whoever was inside confirmed the appointment was in order. Park Seo-in had followed the attendant leading the way into this room — a place as secretive as a hidden chamber.
— I’ve brought the person you asked for.
Secretary Lee, who had been at Kwon Gi-jeong’s side throughout, politely pulled out the chair for Seo-in to sit and arranged his seat before stepping back. Inside, there were only the two of them. Light conversation passed between them.
— I thought it might be around dinnertime, so I went ahead and ordered.
He had said something like that. Park Seo-in hadn’t come here to fill his stomach, so it didn’t matter that he hadn’t been asked about his food preferences.
In truth, Seo-in had a vague sense of what Kwon Gi-jeong was like. No one would believe him if he said it, but the Kwon Gi-jeong sitting before him right now didn’t feel like a stranger.
Even before the proposal. No — it could hardly be called a proposal either……
All along, he had been watching Seo-in, observing each thing he did in sequence. And yet his eyes had remained utterly expressionless.
Seo-in knew why a man who wanted for nothing was doing something like this. And he knew every last thing about what purpose and what plan Kwon Gi-jeong had wrapped up in this marriage.
He had met Kwon Gi-jeong in a spring where petals drifted through the air, and they had held a wedding on a summer day blazing with brilliant sunlight. He had spent just over two years married to the Kwon Gi-jeong standing before him now.
Whatever shape it had taken, it had never been an ordinary marriage. There were times it felt warm, only to turn abruptly cold. And more than that — the end of this marriage had already been decided. In accordance with Kwon Gi-jeong’s intentions.
……Seo-in, who had been tracing the edges of that past, slowly set the fork and knife down on the plate.
So what was it that I said back then. The details didn’t come back clearly, but it was significant enough that it wouldn’t simply vanish from his mind.
Kwon Gi-jeong, who had been watching Seo-in with what seemed like quiet contemplation, spoke in a low tone. As though he, too, found it difficult to taste anything, he set down the fork and knife he’d been holding with a soft clatter.
“Do you think that’s not something to say at a first meeting?”
Ah, that’s what I said.
It was as though Kwon Gi-jeong had read the expression on Seo-in’s face. Meeting Kwon Gi-jeong again had thrown him off balance, and it seemed he still hadn’t managed to fully conceal the emotions from the past. Seo-in immediately stopped dwelling on the memory of his former self, flustered by that past.
But Kwon Gi-jeong had already, without care, pulled his gaze away and turned his eyes elsewhere.
“Secretary Lee, are you outside?”
As though he had sensed Gi-jeong’s intent with sharp alertness, the closed door opened and Secretary Lee stepped inside. It seemed he had been standing by just outside the door the entire time.
“You called, sir.”
Saying that as he entered, Secretary Lee stole a quick glance at Seo-in’s face. And yet, with the diligence of someone faithfully carrying out his duties, he reached into his inner pocket and produced a velvet box, which he held out toward Kwon Gi-jeong.
“Why are you giving it to me? The person who’s meant to receive it is right here in front of us.”
“My apologies.”
Fumbling, his fingers moving with unnatural stiffness, Secretary Lee split the velvet box open and set it on the table where Seo-in could see it clearly. Inside lay a ring that cast a shimmer of varied light.
This was supposed to be a marriage proposal in name, and yet even the act of presenting the ring wasn’t being done by the man himself — it was Secretary Lee, his ever-present attendant, who was extending it. Gi-jeong’s low voice, seeming to have no awareness of how strange any of that was, spread across the table.
“I’d been thinking I’d give the ring the next time we met, but since we’ve come this far, let’s settle everything here.”
Seo-in kept his gaze fixed on the ring, which cast a luminous glow before him. Kwon Gi-jeong had always been someone blunt toward the feelings of others. Indifferent would be the more accurate word. He was the one who made decisions, and he was the one who delivered them as done deals. Seo-in, who had lived skin-to-skin with him, knew that better than anyone.
“I don’t like wasting time.”
Secretary Lee’s complexion was gradually draining to a grayish pallor. But even so, for Kwon Gi-jeong, this was courteous enough. His manner of speaking had always run contrary to his refined appearance. Gi-jeong’s words continued without pause.
“I don’t think you’re naive enough to have come here without knowing what kind of meeting this was.”
Kwon Gi-jeong had a way of seeming blunt, yet at times he was startlingly sharp. Like right now — he was acting as though he could peer directly into Seo-in’s thoughts by reading the expression on his face.
“Right. Well, if you need time to answer……”
“No.”
Seo-in lifted the eyelids he’d been keeping lowered. His long lashes swept upward, casting fleeting shadows beneath his eyes before disappearing. His clear, distinct eyes met Kwon Gi-jeong’s.
“I’ll do it. This marriage.”
Secretary Lee stood frozen between the two of them, as though he had missed his moment to leave. From the moment he had first set foot at headquarters, he had served by Kwon Gi-jeong’s side for years. Something as small as this was nothing to be surprised by. He was well accustomed to this kind of behavior. But the person sitting across from Kwon Gi-jeong was another matter entirely.
With a sidelong glance, Secretary Lee observed the shift in the other person’s expression. This was no ordinary someone — this was the person who would be marrying Executive Director Kwon. So there was no great significance in wanting to watch the change in their expression.
And yet — without a single shift in expression, Park Seo-in reached out and lifted the ring from the velvet box. Without hesitation, he slid it onto his fourth finger.
The ring slipped along his slender finger and sat just slightly loose. It had been prepared hastily — or more precisely, since it hadn’t been known who would ultimately be receiving it, the sizing being imprecise was unavoidable. Even so, Seo-in slowly curled his neatly trimmed fingers closed and lowered his arm.
“It fits perfectly.”
“So you’re not entirely without tact.”
You even know how to say the right thing. Kwon Gi-jeong slowly leaned his upper body back and settled against the chair. He wore the look of someone still calculating — still watching Seo-in as though trying to read him, even in the wake of everything that had just happened. His eyes rested quietly on the ring now sitting on Seo-in’s finger, and then he called to Secretary Lee, who had been standing there the entire time.
“The food has gone cold — have them bring a fresh serving.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“And let them know the meat was a bit tough as well.”
