ST 01

Chapter 01

Stroke: The motion of moving water with one’s arms or legs in order to propel oneself forward in water.

“Ocean Cruise.”

A giant castle floating on the sea.

There is no one in the Korean business world who doesn’t know this ship.

A private networking event that Ocean Group holds just once every summer.

On the surface, it’s called a gathering for investment cooperation and exchange between companies, but business cards aren’t the only things being exchanged here.

Which group Ocean will join hands with next.

Whose side the chairman’s attention is focused on.

Which side one must stand on to seize the upper hand in the next decade’s landscape.

Like a swan’s feet paddling ceaselessly beneath the water, interests and calculations interlocked fiercely in places unseen.

But none of the seats here were mine.

From the start, this wasn’t a place where someone like me—adopted for show to generate corporate publicity—could comfortably belong.

“How noisy.”

Behind my back, laughter that seemed to mock me drifted out now and then.

Beyond the glass door, my adoptive mother Kim Soyeong was laughing and chatting with people.

When our eyes met, she straightened her back and raised the corners of her lips. Only then did she smile brightly back at me.

To others, it would look like a warm exchange of glances between mother and daughter.

Of course, it was anything but.

The night view was certainly dazzlingly beautiful, but the reason I was staring blankly at it wasn’t anything so simple.

Because, well—it was like that kid.

The flashing, blinking lights were just like that kid.

You bastard.

Just then, I sensed a presence behind me.

“Miss.”

I turned at the familiar voice to find Chairman Yoon’s secretary standing there. When our eyes met, he bowed politely.

“The Chairman is looking for you.”

I wasn’t curious.

It would be about that again anyway.

A massive chandelier blazed brilliantly on the ceiling, and people in formal suits gathered in small groups, tilting their glasses.

At the center was my adoptive father.

And across from him sat Chairman Cha of Segyeong Ilbo, laughing and conversing like an old friend.

“Oh, yes. Seul-a.”

As I approached, Chairman Yoon looked at me and smiled brightly. I pulled the corners of my lips up even further.

Smiling prettily wasn’t difficult.

A smile practiced countless times before a mirror would look perfect to others.

“Young lady Yoon Seul has grown so much.”

“Seul has grown up so beautifully.”

People who laid eyes on me each offered a meaningless compliment with a painted-on smile.

Chairman Yoon responded with a light smile.

“Chairman Yoon.”

So this person—my adoptive father—always introduced me like this in front of others.

“A child raised like my own daughter.”

Like my own daughter.

What a convenient phrase.

Because it’s a phrase that makes you family when needed and a stranger when not.

Even when taking family photos, I always stood at the edge. Even at the holiday dinner table, my seat was always a little removed.

No one deliberately pushed me out. It’s just that my place was there from the very beginning.

Still, until high school I believed that if I tried hard enough, I could earn their love—but now I know well.

That within this crowd, I will remain alone until the end.

“Hello.”

I smiled brightly and looked down at the champagne glass someone had handed me earlier.

It was exactly as I’d received it. I had no intention of drinking it but was holding it for no reason.

‘Should I just run away?’

The thought crossed my mind briefly, but it didn’t last long. I knew better than anyone that there was nowhere to run.

As I stood beside Chairman Yoon, the gazes around naturally gathered on me.

It was a familiar kind of look.

Looks that made me feel like a spectacle were now tiresome to the point of callus.

Among them stood a man.

The man currently in marriage talks with me—and the only son of Chairman Cha of Segyeong Ilbo—Cha Taegyeong.

I stared at him blankly.

A dark navy suit tailored to his body and a silk tie with a subtle sheen. Even the watch on his wrist—each detail was understated yet luxurious.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Cha Taegyeong.”

He greeted first.

“I’m Yoon Seul.”

That was it. There was no conversation to follow.

Yet the people around us kept giving meaningful smiles as they looked at Cha Taegyeong and me.

“The two of you look so good together.”

“Good news will come soon.”

The words flowed out like light jokes, but there were bones beneath them.

Chairman Yoon leisurely set down his glass.

Then he leaned toward me and spoke low so others couldn’t hear.

“Seul-a.”

A low but firm voice.

I quietly met his gaze.

“Spend time with Taegyeong during this event.”

I tried to think of an excuse to refuse, but Chairman Yoon didn’t give me a chance—not today.

“This is not a suggestion. It’s a notification.”

Chairman Yoon’s notification was, as expected, not the kind that could be refused.

In the end, I wound up walking around the cruise side by side with Cha Taegyeong.

We walked together on the deck, admired the night view, and tilted our glasses to each other.

“The wind is quite strong.”

“It is.”

When he spoke, I gave short answers and smiled now and then.

It wasn’t uncomfortable.

Cha Taegyeong wasn’t the type to force conversation, nor did he rattle off pointless questions. He was someone who knew how to keep an appropriate distance.

But to me, that was all it was.

As the dinner course was winding down, Cha Taegyeong set down his glass and looked at me.

“May I ask you one thing?”

“Go ahead.”

He hesitated a moment, then carefully asked.

“Is there… someone you have feelings for right now?”

It was an unexpected question.

It seemed that the fact I had been consistently avoiding this marriage talk had reached even Cha Taegyeong, who had just returned to the country.

I closed my mouth.

An old face came to mind.

A boy who laughed while squinting against the sunlight.

A gentle voice that used to call my name.

Ten years had passed, yet that summer was still vivid.

Nevertheless, I smiled and shook my head.

“No, there isn’t.”

Faint music drifted up from downstairs—the event must still be going on.

But the hallway with the guest rooms was quiet as a lie. The plush carpet swallowed even the sharp click of heels.

Then a man caught my eye.

Black suit.

Radio earpiece in his ear.

Ocean Group security team badge on his chest.

Come to think of it, the secretary had said this morning:

‘The security guard in charge will be replaced.’

Was he the newly assigned one?

Just as I was about to pass by without a thought, the man’s profile came clearly into view.

It was familiar.

……No way, it can’t be.

The man must have sensed my presence, because he slowly turned his head.

Familiar eyes. A slightly more defined jawline.

The boyish face had become a man’s before I knew it, but I recognized that face at once.

“…Bae Dohun?”

My lips moved on their own.

The man turned his head toward me.

The man before my eyes was undeniably Bae Dohun.

So the problem is—why on earth is that Bae Dohun… why is he in front of me right now?

“Is this… a dream?”

A stupid voice slipped out on its own.

I clenched my fist. The sensation of my nails digging into my palm was sharp.

“Forgive the late introduction. I’m Kang Dohun, assigned to your security from today onward.”

“…What?”

Apart from the useless observation that dream-Bae Dohun’s voice seemed excessively nice, I couldn’t easily understand what he meant.

Security? And Kang Dohun, of all things?

Only then did I carefully scan Bae Dohun’s attire again.

A neat suit and a gleaming security team badge on top.

“…You.”

Struggling to look up at the handsome face looming over my vision, my lips moved on their own.

“You—what about swimming?”

“Tomorrow from nine a.m., an investment signing ceremony and commemorative photo are scheduled. At noon there is a luncheon with Chairman Yoon, so……”

Bae Dohun, who had been moving dryly like a robot reciting only inputted words, snapped his handsome lips shut like a shell in an instant.

Because my fist had roughly pounded against his chest.

“Shut up.”

I deliberately put force into my eyes and spat out each letter as if chewing it.

“I’m asking you.”

“……”

“Did you quit swimming? And what the hell is this sudden bullshit event?”

“……”

“Hey, you bastard. It’s been ten years. Ten years. Not one year or five—a full ten years. Where the hell have you been and what have you been doing all this time? What happened all that time? Huh?”

Thud, thud.

I thought I was hitting hard, but at some point the strength was draining from my fists.

I couldn’t tell myself whether I was angry or clinging.

The more I spoke, the less relief I felt—instead my vision grew murky as if ink had been poured over it.

Bae Dohun, who had been motionless as if rooted to the spot, took a handkerchief from inside his suit and held it out to me.

When I just glared at him without taking it, he pressed it into my hand instead of saying anything else.

It was a cleanly ironed handkerchief, white with no pattern at all.

“Wipe your face.”

Only then did I realize I was crying.

“And swimming.”

Bae Dohun, who seemed like he would never answer, finally gave a response to my question.

“I don’t do that anymore.”