CHAPTER 4
Two hours before the workday ended, much earlier than expected, Chung-Hee’s phone rang. He excused himself from a meeting with investors and stepped outside the conference room.
“Mr. Lee, I’ll need a bonus for this,” San said. “I owe a lot of people favors.”
“I’ll decide after I hear what you found. Is your source reliable?”
“Absolutely. Jung Gong committed suicide last year. His body was cremated and buried at Seoul National Cemetery. He was frequently admitted to a psychiatric clinic before his death, likely suffering from a mental illness. Possibly depression, from the time of your brother’s death until his own.”
“Depression?” Chung-Hee frowned. “This is the first I’m hearing of that. Are you certain?”
“Medical confidentiality limits what I could confirm.”
“I see.” Chung-Hee exhaled slowly. “Jung Noeul was telling the truth. Tell me about him.”
“Jung Noeul resumed his studies after a two-month absence. Jung Gong dropped out. As for Jung Noeul…” San hesitated.
“Go on,” Chung-Hee urged, his attention sharpening.
“Sir, it’s an odd coincidence. Like you, he studied computer science with a specialization in cybersecurity. He attended KAIST instead of MIT. He graduated top of his class and has won multiple awards for hacking and analytical thinking.”
“So he went on with his life,” Chung-Hee said, anger sharpening his voice. “While my brother lay under cold marble, he studied, competed, collected awards.”
“Where is he moving?” Chung-Hee asked.
“New York. He received an offer to work as a red teamer, which is quite an achievement for someone his age.”
“Hire someone to follow him. Daily reports. Where he goes, who he meets, what he eats, when he sleeps.” His voice hardened. “How often he cries. I want everything. Cost doesn’t matter.”
“The CFO’s brother lives in New York. He might be able to help.”
“Forget it. I’ll contact Jun myself.”
The line went dead. Chung-Hee stared at the phone for a moment before dialing again. “Call CFO Han to my office immediately,” he said sharply. “And bring two cappuccinos.”
A few minutes later, Jun stepped into his office.
“Hello, my friend. You wanted to see me?” Jun’s calm voice filled the room. “How’s it going?”
“I’m managing. It’s been a difficult day.” Chung-Hee gestured toward the couch. “Sit, Jun. I need your help with something. Today at the cemetery… someone caught my attention.”
Jun leaned forward, his gaze sharpening as he studied Chung-Hee.
“I found out who left my brother’s favorite snacks at his grave last year.”
Before Jun could respond, the secretary entered with the coffees, placing one in front of each of them. She left quietly.
“You found out?” Jun asked. “How? Who was it?”
“He visited again this year. Early, when he thought we wouldn’t meet.” Chung-Hee took a sip of cappuccino, then a bite of the homemade yuja protein bar his secretary had brought. “You know the bastard who drove my brother to suicide?”
Jun stiffened.
“He died last year.”
“Jung Gong is dead?” Jun asked, disbelief flashing across his face.
“Yes. On my brother’s death anniversary.” Chung-Hee leaned back, exhausted. “Karma, I suppose.”
Jun’s eyes widened. “So who visited the grave?”
“Jung Noeul.”
Jun frowned. “Your brother’s best friend?”
“The same. And Jung Gong’s twin.”
Jun stared at him. “How did I not realize they were the same person? You never told me.”
“We grew close after everything happened,” Chung-Hee said quietly. “It wasn’t easy to talk about.”
“So the boy your brother loved was the bully’s twin.”
“Yes. He came to apologize.” Chung-Hee paused. “He was broken.”
Jun studied him. “You wouldn’t be telling me this if you weren’t thinking about helping him.”
Chung-Hee didn’t answer.
“I’m right,” Jun pressed. “You want to help Jung Noeul.”
“I don’t know,” Chung-Hee said honestly. “I’m curious. He claims he’s unhappy. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“And if he’s lying?” Jun asked. “If there are moments of happiness hidden in his guilt?”
“I’ll make his life hell.”
“Haneul would hate that. And if he really is miserable?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Something restless flickered behind Chung-Hee’s eyes. “He’s moving to New York,” he continued. “I want someone to monitor him.”
“For how long?”
“Until I’m satisfied.” Chung-Hee hesitated just for a second, then added, “Don’t let him know.” He did not ask himself what satisfaction would look like. Knowing where Noeul was already quieted something inside him, and for now, that was enough.
Jun nodded.
Two days later, the day Noeul was leaving, Jun called. Chung-Hee dined with his mother at their favorite upscale restaurant.
“Everything’s ready. Someone will meet him outside the airport. You’ll get daily reports, early morning your time. Immediate calls if anything urgent happens.”
“Thank you,” Chung-Hee said. “I owe you.”
“You always do,” Jun replied lightly.
“Is something going on, my son?” Ms. Lee asked sharply.
“No,” Chung-Hee replied, cutting into his steak. The meat was tender, perfectly seasoned. “Just a small favor from Jun.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Professional. The steak is good. Would you like more?”
Her smile vanished. “Your brother hid things from us. Look where that led. If something is wrong, don’t hide it.”
“There’s nothing,” he said flatly.
“Don’t lie to me. I gave birth to you.”
Chung-Hee set his utensils down with a sharp clink. “This discussion ends here.”
“Is it a girl?”
“No.”
“You’re twenty-six. The only heir. You need to marry and have children.”
“I won’t,” he said calmly. “We’ve discussed this. Can’t you accept it yet?”
“Accept that you’ll end this family line because you can’t connect with women?”
“Yes.”
She slammed her hand on the table. “Then use a surrogate. I don’t care. Fulfill your duty, then do as you wish.”
Chung-Hee sighed.
A waiter appeared. “Would you like anything else?”
“One more bottle of wine,” Chung-Hee said quietly. “And dessert?”
“Yes,” his mother replied. “Dasik with black sesame and Insam tea.”
As the waiter left, she added coldly, “This conversation isn’t over. I’ll find out what you’re hiding.”
Chung-Hee said nothing. He drained his wine, welcoming the burn.