Nestled just 40 minutes outside of Seoul, the area felt remarkably serene, surrounded by scenic mountains. Mihyang, seated in the smoothly gliding car, adjusted her glasses as she reviewed the documents in her hands, before letting out a quiet sigh and looking up.
The performance of the Corporate Strategy Team was lackluster. Not terrible, but nothing noteworthy for two years now.
If she wanted to position Seungwoon to fill the vacancy left by Director Lee Seongcheol, his family ties and stock holdings alone wouldn’t be enough. He needed a solid foundation to gain the respect of the senior board members. Without that, they wouldn’t even let him speak up in meetings. Her son’s gentle and unassuming nature, while a virtue, was also his greatest weakness.
To leave a lasting impression, there needed to be one big success, even if it came with risks. A success story could justify later failures being shifted onto someone else.
He lacks a ruthless streak, she thought.
Removing her glasses, Mihyang closed her eyes briefly to soothe the dryness. Then there was the matter of his housing. A mere 33-pyeong apartment, really? Does he even understand his position?
Her nephew, Seungtae, her brother’s son, had chosen a 120-pyeong penthouse when he moved out. Not just one, but two, breaking down the wall between them for more space. The imported luxury furniture he filled it with could buy ten of the apartments Seungwoon was eyeing.
Despite his frivolity, Seungtae had a knack for spending money in ways that worked out. After she’d funded a small entertainment company for him, it had grown steadily for three years now, even with just ten or so signed artists.
But Seungwoon...
Mihyang’s eyes narrowed slightly as a quiet sigh escaped her lips.
Unlike Seungtae, who only mingled with celebrities or women from prestigious families, her son seemed almost clueless when it came to relationships.
Not that he lacked the qualifications. Compared to Seungtae, who regularly visited cosmetic surgeons, Seungwoon’s natural appearance was flawless.
There were no shortage of families interested in him, but his disinterest in pursuing such opportunities was the problem.
The reason is obvious.
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Clicking her tongue, Mihyang pushed the documents aside.
Her son, despite his strengths, lacked the charisma to command attention. Charisma wasn’t something you could simply cultivate—it was innate. That’s why she wanted to give him the advantage of a strong media alliance. As his mother, it was her duty.
Still, with Chief Kim’s assurances, she decided to trust him for now. He rarely let her down.
“We’ve arrived,” the driver said, glancing back cautiously. Mihyang nodded, grabbing her clutch as she stepped out of the car.
A sleek, modern building stood nestled among the rich greenery. Its low profile and secluded location suggested it was designed for discretion. Checking her watch, Mihyang strode purposefully down the well-maintained path.
The one-on-one meeting had been their condition. While it was unnerving, she didn’t have many other options at this stage. She trusted Inhee, the wife of DH Construction’s current chairman, who had arranged the meeting. Inhee had no reason to jeopardize her.
At the end of the path was a white staircase leading to a sturdy door. Pushing it open, Mihyang was greeted by a spacious, elegant interior.
The design exuded a stately charm, like a giant’s private library. High ceilings loomed overhead, with bookshelves lining the walls, stuffed with neatly arranged volumes. Near the entrance, a long wooden table with chairs caught her eye, while a small bar area, equipped with stools, sat a few steps lower.
The open space felt airy and inviting, though Mihyang noted the doors on either side of the room. Rooms? Or exits? It was impossible to tell.
At least it’s not gaudy.
Her sharp gaze swept across the room before landing on the bar area, where a man stood with his back to her.
He was dressed in a crisp navy suit that seemed tailored to match her own attire. Broad shoulders and a slender waist moved fluidly as he worked, giving an impression of quiet strength.
“I hope I’m not late,” Mihyang called out, her voice carrying a playful edge. “Unless my watch is broken.”
Without turning, the man replied in a calm tone. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll prepare a drink.”
Not exactly the old chairman I was expecting.
Raising an eyebrow, Mihyang chose a seat at the long wooden table near the entrance. It wasn’t long before the man approached, carrying a tray.
His slightly tousled hair contrasted with the precision of his suit, yet somehow it suited him perfectly. His sharp features and dark brows were striking—perhaps even intimidating. His tanned skin gave him a rugged charm, but his piercing gaze carried a raw, untamed energy, like a blade unsheathed.
Young, but not someone to underestimate.
Her eyes followed him as he placed the tray down, but she stiffened the moment she saw its contents: a Polish vodka she often drank, along with water, glasses, and cups arranged to her exact preferences. A shiver ran down her spine.
Forcing a dry laugh, Mihyang asked, “It’s hard to believe this is a coincidence. Where did you get this information?”
“My apologies if it’s unsettling,” the man replied smoothly. “In my line of work, background checks are second nature—a habit I’ve picked up over time.”
Unfastening his jacket button, he sat across from her. His deep voice was polite, but there was no excess deference.
Few people knew about her particular tastes, and all of them were close family. The casual way he revealed this knowledge felt like both a demonstration of his competence and a subtle threat.
Conscious of the tension in her own body, Mihyang straightened her posture and met his gaze. Her usual air of confidence was gone.
“Pleasure to meet you, Director Hong Mihyang. I’m Kwon Beomjin of JBK Financial.”
He seemed about Seungwoon’s age, but the aura he exuded was worlds apart. Mihyang crossed her arms and offered a faint, slanted smile.
“For a first meeting, I assumed I’d be greeted by someone with decision-making authority from your company.”
“Our chairman doesn’t attend external meetings,” Beomjin replied, pouring vodka into her glass with practiced ease. “He was stabbed several years ago. It was quite the scandal.”
Mihyang blinked quickly, processing the unexpected information.
“But he’s in good health now,” Beomjin added.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Mihyang said, her voice measured, though her thoughts churned beneath the surface.
Beomjin filled her glass with a steady hand and raised his own lightly, a subtle gesture of initiation. Mihyang, with a faint smile, mirrored the motion and emptied her glass in one smooth gulp. The sharp, intense flavor burned its way down her throat, vivid and unmistakable.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she rinsed her palate briefly. Beomjin was the first to break the silence.
“I hear you require assistance with money laundering.”
“Are investments an option as well?” she replied.
“How much are we talking about?”
“How much can you handle?” Mihyang countered.
A faint, polished smile curved his lips. As he refilled their glasses, his tone grew quieter, more pointed.
“An overly defensive stance like this doesn’t help negotiations, Director. When we’re relying solely on mutual trust, if we don’t clearly state our goals upfront...”
He raised his glass again, locking eyes with her, his words deliberate and measured.
“Most dealings like this tend to end in very messy ways.”
It had been a long time since Mihyang felt this level of tension sitting across from someone. Despite his youthful appearance, Beomjin carried the distinct weight of someone accustomed to making their own judgments and decisions.
Fixing her sharp gaze on him, Mihyang downed her drink. The burn of the alcohol seeped into her breath, leaving her steeling herself further.
“Forty billion for laundering. Forty billion more for investment. It’s not about lacking money—I just need invisible funds...”
“I understand. After all, you’re the heir of Hanyeong, a company that reported 1.03 trillion in operating profits last year.”
The heir of Hanyeong.
If he knew just how much her heart raced at hearing those words, it would be hard not to acknowledge his mastery of both information and people.
Letting out a small laugh, Mihyang finally exhaled deeply. Her shoulders felt just a touch lighter.
“How long will it take?”
“Arranging the funds will take about a week. As for the investment structure, our legal team has already sent over some documents for you to review. You’ll find them waiting at your residence when you return.”
She couldn’t help the faint smile that pulled at her lips. It wasn’t just that he worked fast—it was how meticulous he was. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she leaned back in her chair, smiling faintly.
“This seems almost too easy. It’s a large sum, not insignificant by any means. Isn’t your decision a bit hasty?”
“With the name Hong Mihyang from Hanyeong, that’s collateral enough.”
Shaking the vodka bottle slightly, Beomjin’s sharp eyes softened into a languid arc.
“Besides, you have a clear weak point.”
“A weak point? Me?” Mihyang scoffed, her brow furrowing.
As he poured more vodka into their glasses, Beomjin responded smoothly.
“The reason you need invisible funds, for one.”
The brief warmth in Mihyang’s expression was replaced by a flicker of chill. Her eyes followed his fingers as they traced the rim of the glass.
“Even if things go wrong, it’s not a problem for us. Debt collection is a well-worn skill of ours. It might require some effort, but we’re confident we can recover more than what’s put out. Of course...”
He emptied his glass with practiced ease and flashed a faint grin.
“Someone with more to lose wouldn’t dare mess this up.”
Their gazes clashed, sharp and unyielding. Mihyang answered with a silent, tight-lipped smile, though her cheek trembled faintly under the strain.
With a swift motion, Beomjin slapped both palms against his knees and stood. His voice cut through the quiet room.
“For now, send over a few paintings. That’s where we’ll start.”
As he turned and walked toward the bar, his steps echoing faintly, Mihyang watched his back, finally releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
She had faced countless challenges in her career, but she couldn’t recall ever feeling so dwarfed in a meeting. Most people approached her from below, striving to win her favor, while her position and social armor had always made her untouchable.
But this time was different.
She had to admit it: she had stepped into an entirely different world.
Whoever this Kwon Beomjin was, one thing was certain.
He operated by rules that belonged to an entirely different realm than hers.