Episode 1
5 AM.
A flight from Los Angeles touched down at Incheon Airport.
Unlike the weary passengers dragging themselves through the arrival hall, Seong-hyeok emerged looking immaculate. He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath of the crisp dawn air before exhaling slowly.
The cool morning breeze filled his lungs to the very bottom.
Does the air in Korea feel different from America’s… or is it just my imagination?
He had always thought patriotism was something that belonged to other people. But now, standing on Korean soil again after three years, there was a faint tightness in his chest. It was enough time away for a sense of nostalgia to creep in.
But the sentiment didn’t last long.
The face of the woman he’d tried so hard not to think about suddenly invaded his mind.
His brows furrowed as he swallowed down the curses threatening to spill out.
Those curses weren’t aimed at her, but at himself.
Pathetic. Still hung up on a woman I couldn’t let go of.
“Fool.”
The word slipped out before he could fully swallow it—and just then, a calm, even voice broke the quiet.
“You must be tired from your trip, Director Cha Seong-hyeok.”
He turned his head to see a middle-aged man in a black suit walking toward him.
It was Chief Secretary Nam, one of the aides to Chairman Cha Hyeon-ung of SL Group.
“Chief Nam.”
Seong-hyeok already knew he was about to assume the position of Director of Corporate Strategy, the role his older brother currently held.
Chairman Cha Hyeon-ung wasn’t the kind of man who asked for anyone’s opinion. He gave orders. And not even his sons were an exception.
“The Chairman instructed me to escort you home.”
“I could’ve gone on my own… you didn’t need to trouble yourself, Chief Nam.”
Chief Nam retrieved a luggage cart and smoothly changed the subject.
“The Chairman and Madam departed yesterday afternoon for the Boao Forum.”
“I’m aware.”
The Boao Forum, held annually in China, was a major economic summit for the Asia-Pacific region.
Seong-hyeok wasn’t unaware of what it meant that his father had chosen to attend in person this year, after sending his older brother in his place the last two years.
He could practically picture his brother now, fretting over the possibility of losing his position as heir.
“Shall we go?”
Seong-hyeok nodded, pushed the cart, and followed Chief Nam in an unhurried stride.
The car that had left Incheon Airport sped down the empty roads and arrived at a luxury villa complex in Cheongdam-dong.
The buildings, reminiscent of grand temples, were draped in the dim light of dawn.
As Seong-hyeok lowered the car window, he let the soft breeze graze his face. Moments later, they pulled into the underground parking garage.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Waving off Chief Nam’s offer to carry his suitcase upstairs, Seong-hyeok stepped into the elevator alone.
He got off on the third floor—the penthouse.
As soon as he unlocked the front door, a cold emptiness rushed out to greet him. The white marble floors and walls seemed even more frigid than usual.
Leaving his suitcase in the entryway, he walked down the hall to the living room. The untouched space, where no one had set foot in a long time, felt eerily frozen—as if time itself had stopped there.
Standing in the middle of the living room, Seong-hyeok gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky beyond was tinged red as the sun began to rise.
Suddenly, he recalled a familiar image: a woman standing on the balcony, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she insisted on watching the sunrise.
He could still vividly remember the moment he’d draped a blanket over her delicate frame and pulled her into his arms from behind—her fragile body feeling like it would snap if he held her too tightly.
We were together for barely half a year. So why are there traces of her everywhere?
“I need to find a new place.”
Maybe it wasn’t the thirteen hours in the air that exhausted him, but the weight of useless regrets.
Sinking into the sofa, Seong-hyeok closed his eyes, his face drawn with fatigue.
The next evening.
Seong-hyeok pulled a can of beer from the fridge, cracked it open, and sat down at the dining table. He dialed the real estate agent he’d met when buying the villa.
“This is Cha Seong-hyeok.”
Cutting off the agent’s gushing about how long it had been, he got straight to the point.
“I’m planning to sell this place and move somewhere new. The sooner, the better.”
The agent, who had learned from their previous transaction that Seong-hyeok wasn’t a picky client but a big spender, assured him repeatedly there would be no problem.
Some called him fussy. Others said he wasn’t.
The truth was simple: when something didn’t interest him, he was indifferent to the extreme. Houses fell squarely into that category.
But when something did catch his interest, he didn’t let go.
“I’ll wait for your call.”
Ending the brief conversation, Seong-hyeok drained the rest of his beer.
The moment the last sip slid down his throat, his phone began to vibrate on the table.
The caller ID read Chae Beom-jun.
Seong-hyeok’s expression soured as the woman’s face—one he’d been desperately trying to erase—came back sharper than ever.
After hesitating, he reluctantly pressed the answer button.
—“Hey, you bastard! I heard you’re back in Korea! When did you get here?!”
The voice boomed so loudly he pulled the phone away from his ear and set it back on the table. The speakerphone function was unnecessary.
“Yesterday.”
—“Why didn’t you say anything? You should’ve told me you were coming!”
“You found out anyway. Why bother?”
His flat tone clashed starkly with Beom-jun’s animated shouting.
—“Where are you now?”
“At home.”
—“Come out. Let’s grab a drink.”
“I’m tired.”
—“Should I come over, then?”
“No.”
—“Why won’t you ever let me come to your place? Is there something I’m not supposed to see?”
“There’s nothing like that.”
Not anymore, anyway. There had been, once. That’s why he hadn’t let Beom-jun visit.
Because she hadn’t wanted anyone to know about her.
—“Then come out. I’ll call the others too.”
Too tired to argue with Beom-jun’s relentless badgering—and figuring he might as well get this inevitable meeting over with—Seong-hyeok changed his mind.
“Send me the address.”
The truth was, he didn’t want beer. He wanted something stronger.
—“Got it.”
Ending the call, he crushed the empty can in his hand and tossed it into the sink before heading for the dressing room.
Thirty minutes later.
A taxi sliced through the night and stopped in front of a massive, dark-brown three-story building.
Guided by the club’s general manager waiting at the entrance, Seong-hyeok stepped inside.
On the first floor, the pounding bass and flashing psychedelic lights made the whole room pulse. The crowd was packed so tightly there wasn’t a single inch to spare.
“They’re upstairs on the third floor.”
Following the manager up the stairs, Seong-hyeok entered the VIP room, where familiar faces were already deep into their drinks.
Beom-jun spotted him first and shouted.
“Seong-hyeok’s here!”
The others quickly joined in, welcoming him with loud voices.
Seong-hyeok didn’t particularly like this group—not even Beom-jun, his friend since high school.
It wasn’t that he disliked them outright; their personalities simply didn’t mesh with his.
Still, they were all heirs to powerful families—people it didn’t hurt to maintain ties with.
And so, against his wishes, Cha Seong-hyeok’s unofficial homecoming party began.
Meanwhile, Yeong-in was in the back seat of a car headed home when an unwelcome call came through.
Her forehead creased the moment she saw the name Beom-jun Oppa flashing on the screen.
It had been a draining day, cleaning up after a rookie actor who’d gone AWOL during a drama shoot, and she was in no mood for this.
She also knew exactly why he’d be calling at this hour—almost midnight.
—“I’ve been drinking. Come pick me up.”
The words ‘Ever heard of taxis?’ rose to the tip of her tongue but stayed there. Saying that would only earn her days of scolding about how ungrateful she was.
She’d already heard countless times that you shouldn’t “take in creatures with black hair,” and she was sick of it.
“Where are you?”
—“The New Palace.”
She knew the place well, having picked him up there more than once. She also knew he was a VIP at that club.
“Give me about twenty minutes. I’ll call when I get there.”
Resigned, Yeong-in turned the car around.
Twenty minutes later, she arrived in front of the club.
After parking on the shoulder, she tried calling, but the man who had summoned her wasn’t answering.
After ten failed attempts, she gave up with a long sigh.
“Whew…”
Taking a deep breath to calm her irritation, Yeong-in stepped out and approached the club.
Two large men in black suits stood by the entrance, each easily over six feet tall and weighing at least a hundred kilos.
Their intimidating presence would have made most people hesitate, but her eyes showed not a flicker of fear—only impatience to get this over with.
“I’m here to pick up my brother. He’s not answering his phone. Can I just pop in for a moment?”
One of the guards smirked and asked, “What’s your brother’s name?”
Hiding her annoyance, she replied evenly.
“Chae Beom-jun.”
“Ah, Beom-jun hyung.”
Figures. He basically lives here.
His immediate recognition made her let out a small, incredulous laugh.
The man tapped the mic on his lapel and asked, “Which room is Beom-jun hyung in?”
After a moment, he looked back at her with a grin.
“Room 7.”
Yeong-in smiled politely.
“Thanks. And stop speaking informally—we’ve just met.”
Leaving the flustered guard gaping behind her, she stepped into the club.
Even tracking down Room 7 wasn’t easy; she had to weave through the crowd and stop a passing employee to ask directions.
But just as she neared the room, she stumbled on an unwelcome sight.
In the hallway, a couple was pressed up against the wall, locked in a heated kiss.
They’re not even animals. Can’t they take it somewhere more private?
Shaking her head, she slipped past them and opened the door to Room 7.
The room’s layout featured bench-style sofas lined up on either side of a long table.
Half of the seven or so young men inside were familiar faces. And among them, one in particular drew her eyes.
A man born to sit at the head of the table.
The kind of predator who made even wealthy heirs bow to him.
The ultimate apex predator—Cha Seong-hyeok.
After three years apart, their eyes met, locking onto each other.
(Continued…)
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