"Who is that?"
"I don't know."
"Hey… doesn't he know this event is for women only?"
"Hiss, keep your voice down. What if he hears you? I'm not done admiring his face yet."
"So handsome…"
The two elegantly dressed women chuckled softly while stealing glances at a man who sat calmly on a long bench. The dark blue tuxedo he wore fit perfectly over his tall frame. The man quietly observed a painting before him, utterly indifferent to the gazes of the female guests around him.
His handsome yet cold features made several other women feel inexplicably restless. Some deliberately walked past him, while others pretended to admire nearby paintings—anything just to draw his attention.
Yet the man remained unmoved.
"Hm. Boring," Kang Ji-Hwan muttered softly.
He rose from his seat and began walking along the gallery wall, his eyes briefly scanning the neatly displayed paintings. His steps were unhurried, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, completely unfazed by the VIP female guests who discreetly followed behind him.
Until he stopped beside a woman who had been standing for quite some time before a painting. She looked deeply absorbed in the artwork on the wall.
Ji-Hwan stood next to her, his hand still in his pocket.
"Beautiful painting, isn't it?" he asked while looking at the same canvas.
The woman turned with a slightly haughty expression. However, the moment her eyes met Kang Ji-Hwan's face, she almost choked on the drink in her hand.
"Y-Yes… it's truly beautiful," she replied, stammering.
Ji-Hwan's lips curved into a faint smile.
"It would be a shame for such a beautiful painting to hang on the wall for too long," he said calmly. "Perhaps it would look even more beautiful if its future owner were also beautiful."
At those words, the woman's eyes immediately lit up. She quickly glanced left and right, searching for someone.
"Excuse me, I need to take my leave for a moment," she said impatiently.
"Don't take too long," Ji-Hwan replied casually. "Someone else might get it first."
"That won't happen," the woman answered confidently before hurrying off to find the Art Advisor.
Ji-Hwan watched her retreating figure, then smiled faintly—satisfied.
Without delay, he resumed his walk, examining the other paintings.
This time, however, the VIP female guests began competing for excuses to linger in front of the artworks. Some pretended to scrutinize every inch of the canvas, while others deliberately changed positions, all in the hope that Kang Ji-Hwan would stop beside them.
The situation continued until the gallery event was nearly over.
When the atmosphere finally settled and most of the guests had left, Kang Ji-Hwan sat down again, quietly enjoying his drink. Not long after, a tall, slender woman approached and took a seat beside him with a composed expression.
"Your talent never disappoints, little brother," she said.
"That's why the price is high," Kang Ji-Hwan replied as he turned to look at his sister. "So… don't pay me at the old rate."
Kang Seo-Ra raised an eyebrow.
"What are you going to do with so much money? You don't even own a car, let alone a woman. Or are you planning to start your own business?"
Ji-Hwan merely let out a long sigh without answering.
"Why don't you just work with Father?" Seo-Ra continued.
"Starting from the bottom?" Ji-Hwan smirked faintly. "That will never happen."
"Ji-Tae, Ji-Seok, even Seo-Yeon all started from the bottom. What's there to be ashamed of?"
"That's them. Not me," Ji-Hwan replied calmly. "I won't bow to anyone. Others are the ones who should bow to me."
Seo-Ra shook her head slowly without looking at him.
"Then what's your plan? If you don't work, where will you get money? You know Father's temperament. He won't give a single cent to children who don't work."
Ji-Hwan clicked his tongue.
"Why is that old man so stingy? Money can't follow him into the grave anyway."
"Ya.. Kang Ji-Hwan," Seo-Ra admonished sternly. "Watch your mouth. That's your father."
"I'm just being honest. Besides, I don't care whether he gives me money or not," Ji-Hwan replied as he stood up. "Don't be late paying me."
"What if your sister forgets?" Seo-Ra asked casually.
Ji-Hwan halted. He looked at his sister with a calm, almost emotionless expression.
"That's fine. Just don't be surprised if some of your valuables suddenly go missing."
"That's if you dare," Seo-Ra shot back.
"Try me," Ji-Hwan replied coldly. "Don't regret it later."
Without waiting for a response, he walked away leisurely. Seo-Ra watched until her brother's figure disappeared from sight.
"Cih… ssibal," she muttered softly.
__________
Seorin Hills—
the most exclusive residential area in Seorin City.
The entrance road was quiet and secluded, as though deliberately designed to separate the outside world from those who lived at the summit. Tall pine trees stood proudly on both sides of the road, lined up neatly like silent sentinels faithfully carrying out their duty. The glow of the streetlights was faint—just enough to illuminate the path, yet never bright enough to reveal anything that was not meant to be seen.
There were no nearby neighbors.
Every residence in Seorin Hills was built with carefully planned spacing and landscaping—small hills, natural barriers, and rows of trees—all for one purpose: absolute privacy for its VIP residents.
That night, the stillness of Seorin Hills was gently broken as a luxury car glided into the main road. Its engine hummed low and controlled, perfectly matching the atmosphere of the area itself—calm, powerful, and filled with secrets.
Inside the car, Kang Dae-Sung gazed out the window. His expression was composed, yet it was clear that something weighed on his mind.
"What is Ji-Hwan doing now?" he asked, without turning his head.
"He's assisting Seo-Ra at the gallery, sir," the driver replied respectfully.
Kang Dae-Sung let out a long breath, as if trying to organize his thoughts. The passing streetlights reflected against the window, casting faint shadows across his face.
"Lately, Ji-Hwan has been working quite hard to earn money," the driver added. "I'm just not sure what it's for."
"Perhaps for a woman?" Kang Dae-Sung guessed.
"I don't think so, sir," the driver responded quickly. "From what I've observed, I've never seen him with any woman."
Kang Dae-Sung finally shifted his gaze forward. His voice was calm, yet unmistakably commanding.
"Keep a close eye on him."
"Yes, sir."
The conversation ended there. At the same time, the car slowed before stopping in front of a tall iron gate. A small light beside the gate blinked as the security system detected their presence. A few moments later, the gate opened automatically—slowly and silently.
The car moved forward again.
But the calm did not last long.
An SUV appeared from behind, its headlights blazing brightly, as if deliberately demanding attention.
"The car behind us… that's Miss Seo-Yeon's vehicle, sir," the driver said.
Kang Dae-Sung let out a heavy sigh. He raised a hand and pressed his fingers between his brows, as if trying to suppress the fatigue—along with something deeper, a reluctance to face what was coming.
The car came to a complete stop.
The driver quickly stepped out and opened the door. But before he could straighten up, someone was already waiting outside.
His second child—Kang Seo-Yeon.
Kang Dae-Sung shook his head slowly. There was no smile, no trace of warmth on his face—only a clearly etched tension.
"You may leave," he said curtly.
"Yes, sir."
Without another word, Kang Dae-Sung walked toward the main entrance of the house, never once glancing at his daughter. His steps were firm, as though he wished to end the encounter before it truly began.
Seo-Yeon remained silent. She did not greet her father either, merely following behind him.
The front door opened from within.
A woman in her early sixties smiled as she welcomed her husband home. However, the smile froze midway, fading slowly when her eyes caught sight of their second child standing behind him.
Kang Dae-Sung said nothing. He walked straight inside without looking back.
Kang Seo-Yeon offered her mother a faint smile—one that never reached her eyes.
"You two argued again?" Choi Eun-Hye asked softly. Her voice was calm, yet clearly accustomed to such a scene.
Seo-Yeon did not answer. She simply lowered her head slightly. Her gloomy expression spoke for itself.
"Come in," Choi Eun-Hye said.
Seo-Yeon stepped into the house.
"Have you eaten?" her mother asked again.
Seo-Yeon shook her head.
"Come eat together," Choi Eun-Hye invited gently, her smile warm and full of affection as she wrapped an arm around her daughter.
_____________
At the dining table, silence settled and froze the air.
No one spoke. Only the soft clinking of chopsticks against plates broke the stillness. Kang Dae-Sung ate calmly, his movements precise, his expression empty. Since taking his seat, he had not once lifted his eyes to look at his children.
Originally, the dinner was meant to be shared only with his wife and their third child, Kang Ji-Seok. However, circumstances had changed. The eldest son, Kang Ji-Tae, and the second child, Kang Seo-Yeon, were also seated at the same table—even though both were already married and had homes of their own.
At the end of the table, Choi Eun-Hye wore a gentle smile as she tended to her children. A mother's affection was clearly reflected in her expression. The house had no servants, not due to a lack of wealth, but because she had chosen to manage everything herself. The kitchen, the household, the family—she had held them all in her hands for years.
"After dinner, go back home," Kang Dae-Sung said, breaking the silence. His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.
Kang Ji-Tae lifted his head.
"I was planning to stay the night."
"So was I, Father," Seo-Yeon added briefly.
Kang Dae-Sung slowly set down the chopsticks in his hand.
"You know this house is managed entirely by your mother."
"Dear… why say it like that?" Choi Eun-Hye interjected gently, trying to ease the tension. "I don't mind if the two of them want to stay."
Kang Dae-Sung reached for his glass and took a sip before speaking again.
"What's wrong with your marriages this time? Always arguing. Every time you fight, you come back here."
Kang Ji-Tae lowered his head. As the eldest, he chose to remain silent.
Seo-Yeon, on the other hand, continued eating, her gaze fixed on her plate, acting as if she had not heard a single word her father said.
Meanwhile, Kang Ji-Seok did not react at all. His expression remained calm, his demeanor unchanged—as though the tension at the table had nothing to do with him.