Ch 66

“The blue crabs are plump, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make crab stew after a long time.”

Eunsook slowly walked through the fish market, inspecting each item with her own eyes. It had been so long since she had personally done the grocery shopping. Every time she finished speaking as if talking to herself and moved on, the items she mentioned were quickly packed behind her.

When she used to run the business, she would wake up at dawn to personally purchase the ingredients for the day. There were times when she raised her voice in heated price negotiations or secured better goods in advance through pre-contracts. But all of that was now a distant memory. She still ran a Korean restaurant, but it had been quite some time since she actively involved herself in its operations.

“Get some pollock as well.”

Though the child had once refused anchovy broth for noodle soup because of its fishy taste, there was nothing quite as comforting as pollock stew made with fresh fish. Since he had to stay in the hospital for a while for stability, it would be best to make a mild clear broth stew for dinner tonight.

She had seen him eat spicy braised short ribs, sweat beading on his nose from the heat, so a fiery, red pepper-laden stew could also be an option. However, considering he was in the hospital, a mild clear broth would be the better choice.

After leaving the fish market, Eunsook headed to the agricultural market next door. Radishes, crown daisies—since she planned to step into the kitchen after so long, her eyes were more meticulous as she selected the ingredients.

Having finished shopping at a leisurely pace, Eunsook got into the car without giving her destination. Even as the car started moving, she simply closed her eyes. The vehicle wound its way up a curving mountain road before coming to a stop. She remained still until Secretary Lee opened the door.

“Chairwoman.”

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes.”

Standing in an open lot in front of a ruin on the mountainside, Eunsook gazed into the distance. The vast ocean stretched out before her in the wide-open view. The cold winter wind carried the briny scent of the sea.

The abandoned factory was crumbling, its interior dim, but it wasn’t difficult to locate the source of the nauseating mix of pheromones. Suspended from the ceiling with both wrists bound, a limp figure swayed. Eunsook took a seat in the prepared chair.

“…Ch-Chairwoman…”

The man hung lifelessly as if unconscious, yet the rasping, choking sound he made proved otherwise. Eunsook stretched out her hand. She suddenly craved a cigarette, despite having quit some time ago. The acrid scent of tobacco masked the stench of pheromones.

“If you have anything to say, speak now.”

“It’s a… misunderstanding… A misunderstanding.”

His speech was slurred, but he hadn’t lost his wits entirely. Listening to his frantic babbling, Eunsook accepted the file Secretary Lee handed her. She had already reviewed reports for half the day, yet there was still more to receive. It was astonishing.

Had he merely embezzled some money, she would have let it slide. Where there was wealth, parasites naturally gathered. Besides, he had served her loyally for decades. She had taken care of him well—or so she thought. Perhaps, from his perspective, he felt neglected.

She opened the file, and the first page contained writing from Secretary Baek. Whether it was an excuse or an explanation, the familiar handwriting was slightly unsteady.

The document was filled with justifications—he had only followed orders, and any misunderstandings arose in the process. He had explained everything sufficiently, had drawn up honest contracts, and had even provided additional compensation beyond the agreed terms.

Her grandchild… He had believed the child had simply taken a sedative before experiencing rut, but in the end, it was no different from rape. He was an Omega, after all. How could an Alpha and an Omega in rut or heat possibly think rationally? Moreover, the drug her grandchild had been given…

Eunsook’s hand trembled as she read through the excuses, the circumstances, the blame-shifting.

And then, there was the suffering endured by the one who was soon to become her grandchild’s spouse—a pain that could never be compensated with money. Who was to blame for the frail condition of a child barely in his mid-twenties? A lifetime of pheromone and hormone imbalances meant he would always be in a precarious state. The fact that he was even pregnant now was nothing short of a miracle. The chances of the baby being born safely were slim at best.

And yet, this bastard’s excuse was nothing more than a pile of pathetic justifications.

“Ideun’s rut and Ji-an fulfilling the role of his rut partner were managed under Dr. Kang’s medical supervision in a stable manner…”

“CEO Nam, I apologize for involving you in this matter. So, have you found anything useful?”

Sensing the presence beside her, Eunsook spoke. The man who was handling this affair was someone she had crossed paths with through her business dealings. However, until now, she had never requested a favor from him nor engaged in any illegal dealings with him.

But for this matter, he was the best person for the job.

“Due to the drugs, the organs are unusable, but the corneas, eardrums, muscles, skin, and cartilage should be salvageable.”

“That will have to do. We must at least give the bastard a chance to do some good before he dies. I’m sorry to have dragged you into this, CEO Nam.”

Eunsook handed the top sheet of the file to Secretary Lee before taking a deep drag of her cigarette and exhaling slowly. Even the sharp, acrid taste she had missed for so long couldn’t completely mask the bitterness she felt. Her hand trembled as she smoked.

“Oh, not at all. This is my specialty. Consider this my way of repaying my debt.”

“Very well. There’s nothing left between you and me now.”

“Of course. As for what remains, I’ll dispose of it as scrap material, so don’t worry.”

The cigarette trembled, and ash fell, burning a hole in her fine hanbok. But Eunsook did not stop smoking.

She finished the cigarette in a flash and exhaled the lingering smoke. The thick, swirling white haze briefly blurred her vision before dissipating.

She had confirmed it—sent additional people to investigate. This was no ordinary incident. It was the death of her own child. This was not something Secretary Baek could have handled alone. Intervening in a police investigation in the United States was difficult even for her in her current position. Back then, her power and influence had been even weaker. All she could do was wait for the police to announce their findings.

Her daughter and grandson had been on their way to the airport when the car skidded on the winding downhill road, crashed through the guardrail, and plummeted off a cliff. Her daughter had shielded Ideun with her body from the backseat. In that catastrophic accident, only Ideun had survived.

That was the official conclusion.

But now, she held a file in her hands that spoke of brake failure.

Why was this only coming to her now?

Eunsook lifted her head and stared at Secretary Baek. After reviewing the last page of the file, she rose from her seat.

“Was it you who did that to my daughter as well?”

Eunsook hadn’t harbored great suspicion, even when Ideun blamed her for his parents’ deaths. After all, hadn’t they gone to America to avoid her opposition to the marriage? If she hadn’t objected from the start, they wouldn’t have gone to America, and if they hadn’t gone, they wouldn’t have died—so she accepted that everything was her fault. But if Secretary Baek was involved in the brake failure…

At the low laughter that broke the long silence, the wrinkles on Eunsook’s face deepened. The grotesque sound of coughing mixed with phlegm, labored breaths echoed in the empty space.

“…No.”

Though the laughter faded and he denied it, there was no one left to listen to him. His ‘no’ was nothing more than a taunt meant to unsettle her.

Eunsook’s sharp gaze pierced Secretary Baek. She wanted to know why—what had driven him to commit such acts. He had killed her child, played the role of a doting uncle to her grandson, and served Ideun with unwavering respect. Yet, in the meantime, he had siphoned off billions and utterly trampled Seo Ji-an’s life.

“Did I make you feel neglected?”

“…No.”

“Was the money I gave you not enough?”

“…No.”

With every question Eunsook posed, his answers remained the same—laden with mockery.

“CEO Nam, I’ll leave the rest to you.”

Finding no more reason to continue, Eunsook handed over full authority to the man beside her.

She watched as Secretary Baek, who had been hanging from the ceiling, was dragged down and laid on the silver table beside him. There was no need for her to stay. She had food to prepare for her soon-to-be grandson-in-law—this place reeked of misfortune, and nothing good would come from lingering.

“You f**king b*tch!”

The crude curse stopped Eunsook in her tracks just as she was about to leave. The polite tone from before had completely vanished, replaced by a string of vulgar and filthy profanities.

“You greedy wh*re. I wiped your a*s all these years—”

The unpleasant clatter of the metal table made Eunsook shake her head.

“I’m your child too! Why… Why didn’t you kill that bastard Ideun back then—”

That was as much as Eunsook heard. No drugs would be used during Secretary Baek’s organ donation—not even a dab of local anesthetic or numbing cream. CEO Nam seemed to have taken care of his vocal cords at just the right moment.

“Secretary Lee, did you find a temple to stop by on the way?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s head there.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to eat first? An empty stomach for too long isn’t good for your health.”

“I have no appetite.”

“You need to take care of yourself if you’re going to look after Seo Ji-an’s meals.”

“…I didn’t know you could say things like that.”

As the salty, sticky sea breeze carried away the stench behind her, Eunsook climbed into the car.

Foolish—so utterly foolish.

She had cared for him more because he was the child of someone to whom she owed a debt, around the same age as her daughter. She had paid for his education, given him generous wages. But what he had coveted was her child’s place. Ideun was supposed to have died in that accident as well. But the child had survived, and with the boy already under her wing, he couldn’t easily harm him.

He had played the kind uncle well. It had been Secretary Baek who suggested Ideun study abroad—saying the boy needed to see more of the world. Eunsook had trusted him and sent Ideun away. Secretary Baek had watched over him the entire time.

When Ideun grew distant after going abroad, Secretary Baek had brushed it off as adolescence. That, too, must have been his doing.

“Secretary Lee, contact Ideun. Tell him I’ll come to see him—ask him to make time for me.”

Until now, she had only ever summoned Ideun. But now, she needed to go to him—to kneel before her grandson and beg for forgiveness. It was her own fault for not seeing people clearly, for pushing her duties onto subordinates under the excuse of being too busy.

***

After his meal and a deep sleep, Ji-an awoke and sighed at the changed surroundings.

Couldn’t things ever stay the same between falling asleep and waking up? Day or night was inevitable, but everything else—couldn’t it just remain as it was?

He was still in the same suite, equipped with a lounge—so it was clear Ideun was nearby. The musk-like scent, warm and comforting, had lingered close to him ever since Ideun stopped hiding his pheromones. Of course, Ideun was nearby.

Was this a hospital room or an indoor garden?

Greenery and colorful flowers in January—what kind of absurdity was this?

And what were all those boxes stacked everywhere?

Even in this baffling scene, Ideun sat calmly on the sofa, a laptop on the table, reviewing files.

Let’s just turn around. Pretend I didn’t see anything and go back to sleep.

“Did you sleep well?”

At the small noise Ji-an made as he tried to sneak away, Ideun’s head snapped up, their eyes meeting. Ji-an gritted his teeth as Ideun strode over, loosely embracing him and pressing a kiss to his head—all so naturally. Meanwhile, Ji-an stood stiff as a log under the affection.

“What is all this?”

“Repentance.”

“?”

“You were right—I haven’t done nearly enough.”

Unable to go to a hotel, he had transformed the hospital room instead. And since Ji-an had refused presents, he had bought all this instead?

Was this man an idiot? How had he made it through graduate school? Those words had slipped out in a moment of resentment—but everything had long passed. Did he really need to pull off something like this in half a day? And why flowers in a hospital? Sure, Ji-an had no allergies, but what about the other patients? Did Ideun think he’d die or that Ji-an would run away if there wasn’t a proposal right this instant?

“What if I say I don’t like it?”

“…You don’t like it?”

At the flustered look on Ideun’s face, Ji-an hurriedly grabbed his arm before he could pull away—afraid he’d toss everything out and concoct something even more ridiculous.

“Ahjussi, this is a hospital.”

“I know.”

“Who does something like this in a hospital? Why are there flowers?”

“Even Rowoon warned me not to bring real ones, so I used artificial flowers instead. I’ll make you a proper indoor garden later.”