Madam Yoon entered Chairman Lee's study with the soft, careful steps of someone who had perfected the art of appearing harmless. The old man sat by the wide window, a cup of herbal tea steaming beside him, eyes fixed on the evening skyline. He looked older these days—more burdened, more worn down by the constant demands of running one of Asia's largest conglomerates.
Perfect, she thought.
She clasped her hands, lowering her gaze in feigned humility.
"Chairman-nim… may I speak freely?"
Chairman Lee glanced at her. "You usually do anyway," he said with a dry sigh. "Go on."
Madam Yoon pressed her lips into a sad, sympathetic pout. "I only worry because you look so tired. Ever since Young Master Joon-hyuk left for the UK, your health has been worsening. I know you're proud of him. We all are. But… sometimes pride blinds us."
The chairman's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
