Vol 6 Ch 9

“…k, knock.”

The sound of knocking mixed with a voice mimicking it. I raised my head toward the door, still half-curled. Had I fallen asleep like that? The door wasn’t locked, and soon it creaked open. The man revealed was the same American doctor I’d seen before—or perhaps he was British. When he spotted me sprawled on the floor, his eyes widened.

“Oh my, why are you sleeping on the floor?”

He set down the emergency kit tucked under his arm and met my gaze.

“I heard that you got hurt?”

Without warning, he grabbed my hand. “Ugh.” When he forced open my blood-caked fingers, it felt as though raw flesh was tearing.

“Oh, I won’t need any stitches, but it may be uncomfortable for a while.”

Opening his kit, the doctor carefully began wiping away the dried blood around the wound.

“Are you not able to speak, by any chance? If you are not able to talk. I know how to use sign language so we can communicate that way. This wound, did you injure yourself?”

I shook my head faintly.

“Then, did Tae Ha do this?”

Another shake.

“…Is Tae Ha violent or bothering you in any way?”

The seriousness of his tone forced me to retort.

“…What made you think that way?”

“Haha, so you do know how to speak. He referred to you as his lover. This is the first time I am meeting Tae Ha Gwon’s lover in real life. For most people who go through the same thing as Tae Ha, it is usually hard for them to control their urge. From that aspect, I am just glad that he actually has a lover.”

“A lover…”

The sting of disinfectant made me flinch and jerk my hand back.

“Hang in there. It will hurt more if it gets infected.”

“But then, what exactly is he going through?”

The doctor looked at me with puzzlement. Then his eyes flicked to my tattoo, and his composure faltered—only for an instant, but enough for me to notice.

“Ugh… this is driving me crazy.”

It seemed he thought Tae Ha was the one who’d carved it into my skin.

“Are you Korean?”

“Yes.”

“I sometimes get confused between Asians because Koreans, Japanese, and those in Hong Kong look similar. However, all the pretty ladies mostly turn out to be Koreans.”

I could sense he was deliberately changing the subject, but I didn’t press.

“What is your name?”

“…Hawon Joo.”

“Yes, Mr. Hawon Joo. How did you run into Taeha?”

“…Just.”

I answered vaguely, unsure if he meant to interrogate me or simply build rapport while tending my wound. As I watched him apply ointment, a shadow fell between us.

“Oh, when did you get here?”

Standing in the doorway was Taeha. At some point he’d changed—his bloodstained shirt replaced with a cashmere knit, charcoal driving shoes sinking into the carpet. I lifted my gaze slowly from his feet to his eyes. He looked down at me and the doctor.

“How about your treatment?”

“It’s almost finished. I just need to put a bandage around it.”

“Let me do it.”

“Okay.”

The doctor handed him the bandage and brushed off his clothes as he left. I didn’t hear what he muttered on his way out.

Taeha took my limp wrist. He frowned at the gash, then began wrapping it carefully in bandages thick with ointment. The fabric turned blotchy with blood and salve, but after several layers only white remained. His touch was gentle enough that it didn’t hurt much.

“Will you eat?”

“…I’m fine.”

I pressed a hand against the carpet to rise, but pain shot through me and I bit down hard on my lip. I stood without letting a sound escape. He didn’t press me again about food, only dragged a chair near the bed and sat. I wished he would leave. Surely someone like him couldn’t afford to waste time like this. I considered pulling the blanket over my head but stopped, afraid it would look like avoidance.

Lying on my side, I studied him. He was almost always in a suit, his posture immaculate, radiating command. With his mixed features, he sometimes looked almost inhuman. The storm-gray eyes from his mother, the black hair from his father. Was painter Hyun Jungwon truly his biological father? How long had Taeha known the truth? When he’d been kidnapped, then abandoned by his own father—only he would know what that felt like.

I pitied him, resented him, felt injustice—and somehow, still, my heart turned toward him. I’d asked if he felt relief, but in truth it was me who felt lighter, as though I’d shaken off some old weight. Perhaps, because of that, my worth had dropped in his eyes. My “specialness” had only been a camouflage. Now that he’d seen I was no different from the others orbiting him, my brief role as a rare dealer was finished.

“A long time ago… I saw you.”

I blinked. He was looking directly at me, the line of his black slacks falling smoothly over his knees.

“You were holding an envelope, probably on your way to a part-time job. On your way back, you lingered in front of a jerky shop for a long while. In the end, you only bought a single fish cake. I watched you sit crouched in an alley, eating it as if… as if you might die the very next day.”

I didn’t remember. Those days of barely scraping by on one meal were endless. Fish cakes were cheap and filling—I often bought them.

“They said you were Joo Sangkyung’s son. I thought he must have left something behind for you, since he died before I could collect what I was owed from him. But when I found you then… you cried so bitterly.”

He smiled bitterly himself.

“Even so, I didn’t feel any better. That’s why I wanted it. I thought, if I just snapped that little neck, it would be over too easily. Better to let you suffer longer. At the time, I believed that was my way of healing.”

Even before I knew Taeha, I had been drowning in the shadow he cast.

“Now are we more equal?”

The exchange of truths was anything but beautiful.

“No… to be equal, I should be more honest. Joo Sangkyung’s journal was right. I’m not Kwon Yijae’s real son.”

I lifted myself from my curled position, resting against the headboard.

“Hawon.”

For some reason, my name on his lips made unease rise in me.

“I never told you why my hatred toward Joo Sangkyung grew, did I? The one who ordered my kidnapping wasn’t only Felix. My legal father, ‘Kwon Yijae,’ was in on it too.”

“What are you saying…?”

“Felix and Kwon Yijae worked together to have me killed. My father never intended to give the kidnappers what they wanted. My death was meant to be inevitable. They tried to use Joo Sangkyung, but he was too clever. Imagine it—from his perspective, it must have been incomprehensible. That his child’s life was worth less than the cost of a project. Especially when he loved his son so fiercely.”

[xx Month xx Day.]

I have no choice but to admit it. Baek Jaetak and I were caught up in their scheme. Not killing Kwon Gun was a divine move. Had we done so, everything would have gone exactly as they expected.

“Why would your father… do something like that?”

“Because of my grandfather’s will.”

The will of Kwon Yiwon, which I had seen in the car, came to mind.

[…… However, if, apart from Kwon Yijae and Felix Kwon, another child of mine is confirmed beyond doubt, the inheritance shall be redistributed. One-third of the distributed inheritance shall be fully reclaimed and transferred to the third child. This will shall remain in effect for thirty years after my death.]

Then is it really true that Hyun Jungwon carries the bloodline? And Kwon Jaehee, who has lived in seclusion as a painter as well? If that’s the case, grandfather’s will holds no meaning at all for the Kwon brothers.

“But the inheritance was already divided, and didn’t STA take the larger share?”

Could it be that Kwon Yijae knew of this and refused to pass down his inheritance to those who weren’t of his blood? But then, why was Kwon Taeha the only one kidnapped?

“It’s true that the painter Hyun Jungwon once had an affair with my mother. But I am not his blood.”

He lowered his eyelids, then raised them to look directly at me.

“My grandfather is my biological father.”

“!”

I gasped. Impossible. Goosebumps crawled up my spine.

“This is also why the immense inheritance was funneled into STA Corporation. Grandfather was certain I was his child. From Kwon Yijae’s perspective, I am not a son but a brother. An unwanted brother who must share the inheritance.”

So Kwon Taeha was the child born between Eva Kwon and Grandfather Kwon YYiwon.

“Then Mr. Kwon Jaehee…”

“He’s the one who carries Hyun Jungwon’s seed.”

It wasn’t the eldest son and heir who was kidnapped, but the second son. I had found that puzzling, and so must my father. That’s why Father said he had been deceived by them. It aligned with the hypothesis I had long entertained—that Kwon Taeha was truly of direct bloodline.

Only after kidnapping Kwon Taeha must Father have realized the truth and that he himself had been used. He had joined hands with Felix to kidnap Kwon Taeha, but behind it all was Kwon Yijae, who sought to kill his half-brother. Ah… so the Mega Float that you, Kwon Taeha, had wanted to destroy—that’s what it meant.

The fragmented Wikileaks files—could this have been their content? Was that why Father drew Kwon Taeha in?

If that were true, then my role might have been that of a mere courier, promised a hefty reward. But Father, there was one thing even you could not have foreseen—the seed of feeling that grew between Kwon Taeha and me.

“CEO…”

I couldn’t organize what I should say to him.

“You were beautiful back then too. Enough that I wanted to take you and make you pay Joo Sangkyung’s price. But I don’t like being shaken. If something like that exists, I reject it instinctively.”

‘That sort of thing is only for decoration.’

That’s what Kwon Taeha’s steel-blue eyes had once told me, cold as ever. Now, he gazed at the blood seeping through the bandage with sunken eyes.

“But…”

It felt as though a layer of something peeled away from his gaze.

“Now, I must admit it. Instinct has lost.”