Ch 2

Episode 2

Eight Months Before That Day (1)

Arriving thirty minutes earlier than the scheduled interview time, Yoo Eunho sat at the café in the building’s lobby, sipping a hot Americano through a straw. Since it was quite a large building, it housed a trendy bakery and one of his favorite coffee chains, which Eunho mentally gave an extra point for. Of course, if he became an employee here, he wouldn’t have the leisure to lean back in a comfortable leather seat and enjoy coffee at ease like now, but the difference between a workplace that matched his tastes and one that didn’t was significant right from the start.

Eunho carefully leaned back against the chair and checked his attire. The freshly pressed, stiff collar of his shirt—ironed once more with steam so that not a single wrinkle remained—was to his satisfaction. Taking out his tablet from his briefcase, Eunho reviewed once again the list of companies this firm had recently invested in.

Would this be enough? Since the company’s business sector was different from that of his previous job, he had spent the past few days frantically memorizing investment-related terminology and brushing up on client relationships.

“Ah!”

As he sucked on the flat straw, a drop of coffee splattered onto his shirt cuff. Before he even stepped into the interview—what was this? A bad omen foretelling failure? Hastily finishing the rest of his drink, Eunho rose from his seat.

When will this even dry…

He hurried into the restroom located near the 17th-floor entrance and unbuttoned his cuff to wash away the stained spot.

All that effort ironing, wasted in an instant.

As he was dabbing the damp fabric with several tissues, an overwhelming scent surged from behind him—dominant alpha pheromones. Instinctively, as an omega sensing the threat, Eunho curled in on himself to lessen the impact.

The sheer closeness of the presence confirmed its weight, the pheromones drifting over him like a heat haze. Glancing down, he noticed the toe of a classic leather shoe beneath a crisp charcoal-gray suit.

The executive at his previous company had been a dominant alpha as well, but since he was a man in his fifties, Eunho had never felt much intimidation. This one, however, must be younger. Shoving the tissues into the trash, Eunho raised his head to leave, only to lock eyes with the tall figure in the gray suit before him.

The man was unmistakably an executive here. A full hand taller than Eunho, with broad shoulders and a well-built frame perfectly enveloped by his suit, he looked as though the clothes had been tailored to fuse seamlessly with his body. His flawless features framed eyes set deep beneath long, thick lashes, the kind of bone structure rare among East Asians. Most striking of all, the depth of his dark brown gaze gleamed like a concealed weapon, sharp and commanding.

Though their eyes had met by chance, Eunho quickly lowered his gaze and slipped past, concealing his unsteady breath. Only once he had completely exited the restroom could he slowly exhale the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

At the glass doors of the 17th floor, the designated interview site, Eunho rang the bell. An information desk clerk opened the door for him.

“What brings you here?”

“I’m here for the 3 o’clock secretary interview.”

“Ah, please wait in front of Meeting Room 7-1. Walk down the hall to your right, it’s the first door.”

So it wasn’t a group interview after all. /Iit was one-on-one. Sitting in the waiting area nearby, Eunho could hear the voice of another candidate currently being interviewed inside the meeting room.

Which companies did Yuseong Venture Capital invest in this year again? I can’t recall… I can’t afford to slip up.

Everything Eunho had carefully memorized seemed to have been wiped clean by the encounter with that executive in the restroom. He felt unsettled.

Well, if I don’t get in, I can just apply elsewhere. This isn’t the only company out there.

He tried to act like it didn’t matter, but inwardly, he really wanted this. Yuseong Venture Capital, one of the core subsidiaries of the Yuseong Group, itself ranked among the country’s top ten conglomerates. Though its dynastic management system was typical of chaebols, the heirs had proven capable, and under the third generation, the business was steadily expanding.

“Yoo Eunho, please come in.”

The door to the meeting room opened as the previous candidate stepped out. Hearing a young woman’s voice call his name, Eunho rose immediately.

“I’m Yoon Wonyoung, head of the secretary team. Nice to meet you.”

The head of the team, effectively its leader, greeted Eunho warmly as she entered. Contrary to his expectation of a stiff, formal atmosphere, the interview began casually and comfortably under her direction.

She read through his résumé thoroughly, smiling with satisfaction here and there, before looking up at him after checking his previous company’s record.

“You stayed at your first company for quite a while. Four years—that must have made things easy, once you had everything down to a pattern like AI.”

“Remaining in one place for so long left me feeling stagnant. I wanted to broaden my experience across different fields.”

At his explanation, Yoon Wonyoung nodded.

“You were an executive secretary? Whom did you assist at Samjeong Corporation?”

“I worked under Executive Director Kim Seungwoo of the Future Strategy Office.”

At the name, her response was lukewarm—perhaps he wasn’t a particularly well-known executive.

For four years, Eunho had served the same executive at his first company. Despite being relatively young for a strategy officer, Kim Seungwoo was still in his fifties, and the generational gap always left Eunho cautious. That same gap brought boredom faster than expected. He’d learned the basic work pattern within a month, mastered all the details within six, and after that it was nothing but monotonous repetition.

Eunho’s personality, sticking to the same food, the same routines, had tethered him there for so long. If he had been more adventurous by nature, he wouldn’t have lasted even a year or two.

He had braced himself for sharp, technical questions, even memorized the company’s org chart and investment portfolios, but none of that came up. Instead, the interview focused on his résumé, his background, and his working style, as though gauging his temperament. Relieved by the lack of difficulty, he nevertheless felt a twinge of disappointment, wondering if they simply weren’t impressed.

“Ah, Executive Director.”

Suddenly the meeting room door opened, and that overwhelming wave of pheromones swept in. Eunho sprang to his feet and bowed his head. Even the secretary chief, caught off guard by the unexpected arrival, instructed an assistant to bring in an extra chair and yielded her seat.

Eunho finally realized why the man had seemed familiar. Now, looking more closely, he recognized the face he had seen multiple times in online articles during his company research.

Could it be… the secretary team I’m applying for belongs directly under the Executive Director of the Investment Division, Choi Yoonjae?

Eunho clenched his hands tightly over his knees, crushed beneath the psychological pressure. He felt wronged—why did this have to happen during his turn, when there were other candidates too?

The man who had entered without warning and taken the secretary chief’s seat scanned Eunho’s résumé with a cold, impassive gaze. As Eunho swallowed dryly, the thought flickered that maybe everything was going wrong because he wasn’t meant to succeed here. His face stiffened just as the man, eyes still fixed on the résumé, asked in a flat, toneless voice:

“You came expecting the role of an office executive secretary, managing schedules, I assume. But I want a secretary who serves as both aide and executive manager. What do you think—can you handle that?”

Contrary to Eunho’s expectation of abstract questions, the man stated his requirements with blunt clarity. Meeting that gaze head-on, Eunho felt his muscles tighten. The man’s chiseled features went beyond mere handsomeness; they seemed unreal, like a statue carved with impossible precision. Eunho’s lips trembled under the strain.

“Ah… yes.”

“Work hours are officially nine to six. But going over that will be common. Of course, I’ll compensate with sufficient bonuses and financial rewards.”

He was unrestrained, straightforward. Whether he truly meant it or was simply testing him, from the conversation alone Eunho felt as though his name was already on the list of accepted candidates.

“You’ll be spending more time at the company than you did at your previous job. We’ll be traveling often, out on external business, and you’ll need to drive. You’ll be shadowing me like a second self, following every step I take.”

“I want this position.”

As long as the compensation matched the demands, Eunho saw no reason to refuse—he answered boldly.

The man’s sharply defined brows twitched slightly, the corner of his mouth curving upward. Behind his cool expression, his eyes held an indefinable trace of wistfulness as they rested unwaveringly on Eunho—an expression almost as if they weren’t strangers, as if he were glad to meet again. Confused, Eunho could only offer an awkward smile.

Without any further reply, the man stood and left the meeting room. In the sudden calm after the storm, the secretary chief, shaken, began to ask perfunctory questions. Eunho, though briefly unsettled, soon regained composure and responded smoothly.

By the time Eunho stepped out of the interview, it was already four in the afternoon. The session had taken nearly twice as long as expected, which he wanted to interpret as a positive sign. The sheer number of questions suggested genuine interest, and his steps home felt lighter.

The next day, Eunho received the acceptance notice. His first job had been through open recruitment, which took fifteen days for results, but this time, since it was rolling recruitment, the reply came swiftly. His official start date was set for a week later, after completing a medical examination at the designated health center.

On his way back from the exam, Eunho stopped by a department store to buy extra shirts for work. Running his fingers over a new navy suit displayed on a mannequin, he smiled faintly, liking the color.

The purchase made him think of Hyunjun—his first boyfriend. They had met at Samjeong Corporation, but Hyunjun had quit within a year, saying the job didn’t suit him, and thrown himself into civil service exam prep. Now in his third year after two failures, he had grown plump from long hours at the prep academy and a carb-heavy diet, his once lean frame gone. Yet Eunho still found him adorable, still loved him.

“I start work next week.”

“So, you were unemployed for just a month. Congrats. Guess you’re destined to work your whole life.”

Hyunjun, summoned to a barbecue place near his academy, showed up in sweatpants and slippers. He picked at the precooked meat with a bored expression, offering little more than a perfunctory response.

“What should I get you with my first paycheck?”

“Just give me the money. I need to pay rent—I’m about to get kicked out.”

“Why not just move in with me?”

“If I do that, I’ll just slack off. I don’t have time to waste—I need every spare hour for studying.”

The longer the prep dragged on, the more irritable Hyunjun became. He refused even a day trip to the seaside, saying he couldn’t afford distractions.

“When you pass this time, let’s travel a little. We’ll visit my parents while we’re at it.”

“We’ll see when the time comes.”

Even from Eunho’s side, the anxiety was palpable—time passing without progress weighed heavily on Hyunjun. He was a civil service student in name only; in reality, he was an unemployed man draining money. His own awareness of that made him all the more withdrawn. To keep the peace, Eunho limited their meetings to once a week, under the pretext of buying him a meal, and otherwise maintained their relationship with the occasional phone call.

“If you’ve got money, lend me a hundred. I’m short on food expenses.”

“Don’t scrimp too hard. Make sure you eat properly.”

At Hyunjun’s half-whining, dejected tone, Eunho pulled five crisp fifty-thousand won notes from his wallet and quietly slipped them into his pocket.

“Here, eat something too.”

Pleased at the larger sum than expected, Hyunjun took over the tongs and scissors, grilling the meat for Eunho himself.

Hyunjun had burned through his savings during his first year of exam prep, then clung entirely to Eunho. Having grown up without knowing shortage, Eunho pitied him and willingly offered up half his salary. His parents, well established in the U.S., had even provided Eunho with a small officetel when he decided to live in Korea alone, so finances were never tight.

Chewing on a piece of freshly grilled meat, Eunho smiled to himself, already picturing Hyunjun passing the national civil service exam five months later.

***

On his first day at work, Eunho had his photo taken for his ID card against a white backdrop in a corner of the HR meeting room. Observing employees’ ID photos as he passed, he noted that most wore faint smiles rather than blank expressions, so he did the same.

After signing various confidentiality agreements filled with legal jargon and receiving office supplies from the general affairs team, he headed for the 21st floor—home to the Investment Division. To reach Executive Director Choi’s office, one had to pass through the secretary’s office, and Eunho’s desk was placed near the entrance.

Another secretary was assigned to manage scheduling and paperwork, while Eunho’s role was to accompany and assist the executive, record minutes during meetings, organize materials from different divisions, prioritize tasks, and coordinate accordingly.

Aside from strictly confidential documents, Eunho and the secretary chief were copied on all mail addressed to Director Choi that had passed through the approval chain. Since he now had to grasp the company’s overall management situation quickly, Eunho felt constantly pressed for time.

The executive he would serve was Executive Director Choi Yoonjae—second in power only to CEO Han Youngchul of Yuseong Venture Capital. The Yuseong conglomerate was divided into Yuseong Group, which ran hotels and resorts, and Yuseong Venture Capital, which handled investments. The founder, the late Chairman Choi, had split the inheritance between his sons: the eldest, Choi Gwanghoon, took Yuseong Group, while the second, Choi Sunghoon, inherited Yuseong Venture Capital, together forming one vast corporate empire.

Choi Yoonjae, Executive Director, was the only son of the late Choi Sunghoon. By plan, he should have completed his MBA in the United States and climbed step by step from department head onward. But at twenty-four, an ill-fated car accident claimed both his parents at once, and under the protection of his uncle, Chairman Choi Gwanghoon of Yuseong Group, he took charge of Yuseong Venture Capital.

Yet Yoonjae was still a student, too young to run the company, and it needed a professional manager. Choi Gwanghoon installed Han Youngchul as CEO while laying the groundwork for Yoonjae to gradually take over management and one day stand confidently as the company’s head. Starting as a team leader at twenty-six, Yoonjae had risen to Executive Director by the age of thirty-four.

Before Eunho had even settled into his seat, he was summoned by Chief Secretary Yoon to hear an overview of the group and to be briefed on points that required special caution.

On Eunho’s first day, the secretary team gathered for a meal together for the first time in a long while. After brief introductions, conversation turned to recent company affairs and the organizational climate.

Compared to the more static environment of his previous workplace, this place was dynamic, fast-moving. Large sums of money flowed in, were invested, and then recovered in cycles, so the company’s mood rose and fell sharply with each quarter’s results.

“At three o’clock today, there’s a meeting in Yeouido with the CEO of KG Asset. If you head down to the basement parking lot around 2:20 and wait, that’ll be fine. Just place the related materials in the Executive Director’s briefcase in the backseat. This isn’t an investment meeting, as you probably guessed from the materials—it’s a regular check-in on economic trends. You can wait downstairs, but if the Executive Director says to come up together, be sure to bring the laptop.”

The secretary explaining in a friendly tone was a senior colleague two years older. He had already been Executive Director Choi Yoonjae’s personal secretary for three years. He knew everything about Yoonjae—his preferences, hobbies, daily patterns, even the tastes of partner companies he frequently met. But he lacked understanding of management strategy, so he often handed off management-related tasks to another secretary.

This secretary believed Eunho would cover that gap well. After all, Eunho had shown unusual diligence on his first day, reviewing and organizing the flood of incoming emails with ease.

“Are there often evening meetings?”

“Once or twice a week, maybe? But he goes home alone pretty often.”

From what Eunho heard, Choi Yoonjae wasn’t the kind of superior who mistreated or belittled subordinates. Cold and cautious, he nonetheless had a fundamentally gentle way of treating people. In particular, he had a talent for spotting his employees’ strengths, drawing them out, and turning them into optimized standards.

“By the way, you were expecting an office secretary role, weren’t you? Is this okay?”

“Yes… it’s fine. But was the job posting wrong?”

Perhaps his brain had rusted from four years of repetitive office secretary work, but Eunho found the more active demands of a personal secretary role not at all unappealing.

“No, the notice was correct. Up until the day before, there was no mention of change, but on the day of your interview the Executive Director suddenly decided to alter it. Usually, we’d get some warning. Honestly, this was the first time since I started working here, so I was a bit surprised too.”

“So it wasn’t planned.”

From the way this was described, Eunho got the impression that Executive Director Choi was the kind of man who felt heavy stress when things didn’t go according to plan.

“Chief Secretary Yoon mentioned there might be quarterly rotations between you and me. If you find it difficult to adapt, feel free to bring it up with him.”

“Understood.”

“Also, the Executive Director often changes shirts. Here’s the key card to his home—I’ve registered it under your name. If you check daily and let the housekeeper know, she’ll prepare fresh clothes. If there’s ever something you’re unsure about, contact me anytime.”

Clutching the car keys and the home key card that would govern his duties from now on, Eunho went down to the basement parking lot with the other secretary, checking the backseat and quickly absorbing the necessary details.