TLR 11

Chapter 11 …

“‘Recently broke up with her boyfriend.’”

Park Junhyuk fixated on that last sentence before slamming the folder onto the table.

“Did you spot a problem, sir?” Secretary Park asked carefully.

“This. I thought so before, but isn’t this a bit too sloppy?”

“I’ll set up a follow-up investigation right away. Just tell me what’s missing, and I’ll make sure it gets added.”

“The five Ws and H—isn’t that reporting 101? Who, when, where, how, doing what, and why they broke up.” Junhyuk cut himself off. “There’s nothing here.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll fix it immediately.” Secretary Park bowed and picked up the folder.

He had actually read the report when it first came out. There was only one person who fit the description of that breakup.

“Um, Executive Director?”

“What is it?” Junhyuk turned his head away, roughly loosening his tie.

“Well, Han Seol’s…”

Junhyuk whipped around and glared at him so fiercely that Secretary Park stopped mid-sentence.

Junhyuk closed his eyes and opened them again, silently urging him to spit it out.

“The guy who used to date Ms. Han Seol is currently in our HQ’s legal team.”

“…What?” Junhyuk’s already deep voice dropped instantly, cold enough to sound like a challenge.

“I’m so sorry. If I had known, I obviously wouldn’t have recruited him. I only found out after the fact.” Secretary Park bowed his head in a hurry.

To think someone connected to the person who murdered the future CEO’s parents was working right under their roof! Strictly speaking, Kim Woojae was a complete stranger to Han Iju, and Junhyuk wasn’t the type to pry into employees’ private lives, but keeping quiet about it had definitely been an oversight.

“Is he really talented enough to warrant a direct headhunt?”

“He didn’t go to law school himself, nor does he have any standout abilities. However, his father, brother, and sister are active judges. His uncle was a chief prosecutor before joining a top law firm, and almost all of his cousins are judges or prosecutors.”

“Family holidays must be absolute hell for him.”

Even though his tone was completely dry, it somehow came across as pure sarcasm. Secretary Park paused for a moment before speaking up again.

“In Kim Woojae’s case, hiring him brought in a ton of high-level connections on a low salary. Exceptionally, the HR team recruited him right after he had already decided on another company…”

“Kim Woojae? Is that his name?” Junhyuk cut him off.

“Yes, sir. That’s right,” Secretary Park answered with a polite nod.

“And how on earth did the fact that Kim Woojae dated Han Seol reach your ears, Secretary Park?”

“Apparently, he got drunk at a company dinner and blabbed about it himself. Said they were college sweethearts. A few other employees who went to the same university chimed in, so word spread around the office.”

“Why in the world would he go around bragging about that with his own mouth? Dating the sister of the woman who killed the chairman and his wife?” Junhyuk asked, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Well, compared to his colleagues, his own specs fall a bit short. It seems like classic guy posturing—bragging about his past to puff himself up.”

“Ah. So he used Han Seol like some kind of trophy.” Junhyuk tilted his chin up.

Even though it was a sudden turn of conversation, Secretary Park felt he had handled the topic pretty well—or at least, it was a million times better than talking about chat emojis. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Shall I finish the rest of the briefing?”

“Forget that. Bring Kim Woojae up here.”

“Pardon? Ah, yes, sir. Should I call him in right away?”

“Do that.”

The door shut quietly behind him. Junhyuk got up from the sofa, slipped his suit jacket back on, and neatly retied his tie.

He briefly thought about checking the mirror to see if his hair was messy, but decided that would be way too damaging to his pride.

Taking a seat in the head chair, he positioned himself right where he’d have a clear view of anyone walking through the door.

Whoever Han Seol had dated in the past was none of his business. He didn’t have a single reason to care about the romantic history of a woman who was going to vanish from his life soon anyway.

Even so, he stared intently at the door, taking a breath so deep it puffed out his chest.

Knock, knock.

“Come in.” Junhyuk threw his voice from his diaphragm.

The door opened slowly.

“Did you call for me, sir?” A man slouched in, bowing low with an air that lacked any real confidence or posture.

Why him and not me? Junhyuk analyzed Kim Woojae down to the finest detail.

Plain features, short limbs, a dumpy build. His skin was rough, his hair looked completely out of style, and his sense of fashion was atrocious.

“What on earth…” She dated a guy who looks like a battered eggplant?

It wasn’t out of politeness that he didn’t finish the sentence. He was genuinely so stunned that the words just got stuck in his throat.

“Sir? Did you say something?” Kim Woojae tilted his head, looking clueless.

Junhyuk stood up, walked behind Kim Woojae, and felt a sudden, burning urge to smack him on the back of the head just to tell him to stop acting cute.

“Haaah…” Junhyuk let out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the headrest to stare at the ceiling.

It wasn’t just his massive ego talking—he was objectively, indisputably better than this guy.

After standing there like that for a while, a wave of self-awareness hit him like a truck: What in the world am I doing right now?

Junhyuk looked straight ahead again.

Kim Woojae was standing there with his hands clasped together. Having been summoned out of nowhere and left in complete silence, he was visibly trembling, his hands shaking like a leaf.

“I assume you know why I called you in.”

“…”

“Watch what comes out of your mouth from now on.”

“…Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

“Then I’ll be on my way, sir.”

The door clicked softly shut. Overwhelmed by an indescribable wave of irritation, Junhyuk tore off his tie again.

There’s no way they just held hands in this day and age.

The mere thought of Seol doing everything with that battered eggplant made him want to leap out of his chair, chase him down, and strangle the guy with the tie he’d just taken off.

Well, killing him might be a bit much—maybe just enough to put him in a mild coma. That way, the guy would never be able to think about Seol again, and Junhyuk’s rage would cool down just a bit. A total win-win.

Why did South Korea have to be a country governed by the rule of law? Just as he was mentally longing for a lawless era, it suddenly struck him that he hadn’t even held Seol’s hand yet.

“…”

With a completely blank face, Junhyuk tapped his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of the sofa.

Does it count when our hands brushed against each other while I was getting my loyalty stamp card last time?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, his pride—which had been standing precariously like a house of cards—completely collapsed.

This isn’t something worth throwing this much emotional energy into. Just do what you planned to do from the start and get it over with.

No matter how much he tried to reason with himself, it was useless. He felt entirely broken in two.

“Why isn’t he coming?”

Seol pretended not to hear and didn’t answer, but it didn’t work. The cafe owner grabbed her arm and shook it again.

“Why isn’t he showing up? Has it been a week? No, it’s been longer than that. Why isn’t he coming back? Was he unhappy with something?”

“Maybe he’s busy with work, or maybe he moved. There could be plenty of reasons.”

Seol couldn’t stay silent forever, so she spoke casually while gently pulling the owner’s hand off her arm.

“I suppose so…” The owner’s voice deflated, though it was hard to tell whether she was sad about losing a regular customer or just bummed she couldn’t see Junhyuk’s face anymore.

Seol was putting on a calm front, but she didn’t feel great inside either.

On the first day Junhyuk didn’t come, she simply figured he was running late. Yet, even when the door chime didn’t ring, her eyes kept darting toward the entrance. By the time she locked up at 11 p.m. and cleaned the place by herself, her heart felt heavy, as if stuffed with wet clay.

The next day, she thought, Surely he’ll come today. But in the end, the cafe closed without any sign of him. That was when all kinds of random thoughts started creeping in.

Did he get into a minor car accident? Or maybe a light case of food poisoning?

She found herself imagining all sorts of non-life-threatening reasons that might keep him in a hospital bed—until she finally caught herself and realized the truth.

He had simply stopped coming. That was all their relationship ever was.

At 11 p.m., Seol flipped the sign over to ‘CLOSED,’ reaching up on her tiptoes to lock the door.

“Ah…”

Outside, a silhouette gradually took shape, and Junhyuk came to a stop right in front of the glass door.

Instead of telling him they were closed, Seol took a step back. Junhyuk walked inside, looking entirely whole without a single cast on his body.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has.”

“I had to go away on a business trip,” Junhyuk muttered as if talking to himself, brushing back his slightly messy hair.

Ah, so that was it.

A sudden sense of relief washed over her, making her knees feel a little weak.

“‘Thanks for the meal.’ ‘Why aren’t you coming to the cafe?’ I was kind of hoping for a message like that.” Junhyuk stared straight at her.

His eyes were so sharp they almost radiated anger, causing Seol to swallow nervously without realizing it.

“You didn’t write, did you?”

“…I’m sorry. My pants got washed with your business card still inside the pocket.” Seol lowered her eyes to make the lie convincing.

“Ah. Is that so?”

“I should have taken better care of it, but my mom did the laundry while I was taking a shower.”

“While you were taking a shower.”

“Yes.”

Seol sneaked a glance up at him. The harsh glare on his face was completely gone, replaced by a warm smile.

Seeing his expression look gentler than ever, Seol relaxed a bit. But in that exact second, Junhyuk’s eyes flashed with a sharp edge again.

“Didn’t you take a picture in my car back then? The photo should still be on your phone, right? Or in your chat history?”

“…Honestly, I didn’t send it to anyone back then. And the picture turned out completely out of focus.”

“Ah, I see.”

Once again, Junhyuk’s face melted back into an utterly gentle smile.