1 . Two Days of Doubt
The death of the loyal assistant, Mr. Park, had been swiftly ruled a suicide by the police, citing severe financial distress. Yet, in the rarefied atmosphere of the Taewon Group Tower, nobody believed it. Whispers turned into open accusation, and the target was singular: Bae Ha-eun, the new Chairwoman.
In just forty-eight hours, the corporate world's awe of Ha-eun's takeover had curdled into outright hostility. The press had seized upon her notorious reputation, painting her as a ruthless executioner who had silenced a dissenting voice with chilling finality.
Inside the company, the tension was a physical force. Meetings were terse, glances were sharp, and the air crackled with accusation directed solely at the woman who sat upon the blood-soaked throne.
Kim Taehyung had confined himself to his personal office. The gentle exterior that protected his kind heart was now strained and pale. He was trying to manage the immense public backlash while simultaneously dealing with his own, quiet suspicion. He and Mr. Park had shared a history, and the man's sudden, dramatic end felt like a betrayal.
Seok-jin, Ha-eun's brother, stormed into Taehyung's office, his gentlemanly composure finally cracked.
"Taehyung, you must stop this! They are treating Ha-eun like a criminal!" Seok-jin's voice was low, but laced with desperation.
Taehyung looked up, his dark eyes steady. "I have managed the press as best I can, Seok-jin. But you know the truth of the situation. Your sister took control, and a loyal man died immediately after."
"And you think she did it?" Seok-jin challenged, stepping closer. "You know her, Taehyung. She might speak harshly (muh par bol deti thi), but she is not a murderer! She is the one who suffers the most from this spectacle!"
Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of his internal struggle. "I don't know what I believe. I only know the timing is harami—treacherous. We are all living under the shadow of your mother's legacy, and Ha-eun has become the face of that darkness."
II. The Chairwoman Under Siege
That evening, a closed-door board meeting was held. The atmosphere was poisonous. The shareholders, seeing their stock plummet due to the scandal, demanded answers.
Ha-eun stood at the head of the table, her ruthless mask firmly in place. She was wearing her 'bad personality' as armor, allowing the hate to deflect the true terror she felt.
"I had no involvement in Mr. Park's suicide," her voice was cold and steady. "And I refuse to let fear govern this corporation. This is simply a cheap attempt to undermine my legitimate appointment."
A senior board member scoffed. "Your legitimacy is built on the ruins of this family, Ms. Bae! And now, on the blood of a man who served the original Chairman!"
Taehyung watched the exchange, his soft heart aching. He saw the flicker of pain Ha-eun tried desperately to suppress. He knew her kind side, the one who prayed for promises. Yet, the woman before him was a serpent.
The meeting dissolved into chaos. Ha-eun left the room, her back straight and unyielding, but she was visibly shaking. Taehyung saw her disappear into the private elevator leading to the Chairman's exclusive retreat suite on the 80th floor.
III. The Final Drop (The Second Twist)
It was barely midnight when the sirens began to scream, their sound ripping through the glass canyons of the city.
Taehyung was still in his office, brooding over the documents, when Seok-jin burst back in, his face ghostly white, his composure utterly gone.
"Taehyung! The West Tower! She..." Seok-jin couldn't finish the sentence.
Taehyung ran to the window. The lights of a dozen police cars and ambulances were flashing erratically at the base of the adjacent West Tower. They were focused on the exact spot where Mr. Park had fallen two days prior.
Taehyung grabbed the phone, calling security, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The guard's voice was a choked sob.
"Sir... it's the Chairwoman, Ms. Bae Ha-eun! She fell—or was pushed—from the 80th-floor suite. She's gone. It happened at the exact same location as the last time."
Taehyung dropped the phone. His kind eyes, which had always held so much softness, were now filled with horror and a terrible, cold realization. The woman who had worn the serpent's mask had fallen. Was it guilt? Or was the treacherous (harami) environment she had created now consuming its own architect?
The promise of the two children was now definitively and brutally broken, leaving Kim Taehyung, the quiet gentleman, trapped in a bloody game of power and murder.