As Haram lay on the living room sofa watching TV, the sudden sound of the doorbell startled him upright. He cautiously approached the front door and opened it to find a man in a suit standing there.
The man gave a polite nod to the visibly guarded Haram and handed him a small shopping bag before promptly heading down to the garage. Caught off guard, Haram returned inside with the bag and peeked inside. There was a black case, slightly larger than the palm of his hand.
“Is this… for me?”
He carefully opened the case to reveal a brand-new smartphone. Based on the situation, it seemed like it was meant for him—but he didn’t feel right touching it freely, so he shut the lid again. Just as he was about to set the case down on the table, the phone started vibrating. Surprised, Haram pulled it out.
“Hello?”
—It’s me.
It was Tae-yi’s voice. Feeling relieved, Haram sank back onto the sofa and focused on listening to him.
—I might be a little late. If you get hungry, go ahead and eat lunch without me.
“I’ll wait. I’m not that hungry yet.”
There was a quiet laugh on the other end—it was warm and comforting.
—I’ll try to get back early. And feel free to use the phone.
“Is it mine?”
—Yeah. It’s for you.
That easy comfort vanished in an instant. Throughout his time in Seoul, he’d only ever received things from Tae-yi. Accepting something this expensive felt like crossing a line.
“It’s pricey… Why give me something like this when I’m about to leave? I still have my phone at home.”
—Because it makes me uncomfortable. Just use it. Don’t feel pressured.
When Haram didn’t respond, Tae-yi added teasingly—
—Pay me back with peanuts. That works, right?
Haram finally burst into laughter at his playful tone. The rollercoaster of emotions felt unfamiliar.
“Then I’ll have to raise the price. At least a thousand won per peanut.”
Five hundred wouldn’t cut it. As Haram giggled softly, Tae-yi laughed along with him. After a quick promise that he’d be home soon, the call ended.
Haram began fiddling with the phone, pressing this and that. Unlike the one left at his countryside home, this one felt lighter and clearly more powerful. He tapped into the call log and added Tae-yi’s number to his contacts.
“…Tae-yi.”
Just saving it as a plain name felt too cold. After a moment of hesitation, he added a heart emoji. Never would he have imagined that someone other than his late grandmother would have a heart next to their name in his phone. A curious warmth bloomed in a quiet corner of his heart.
That sense of satisfaction made it impossible to sit still. Getting up from the sofa, Haram stretched, then walked across the living room toward the kitchen.
Opening the fridge cautiously, he began checking what was inside, then slowly took out ingredients one by one. Since he’d been eating meals others had made for him, he figured it was time to return the favor. Sure, the ingredients technically belonged to Tae-yi, but still.
He thought over what dishes to make as he pulled things from the fridge—mushroom bulgogi, rolled omelets, tofu soybean paste soup, and seasoned bean sprouts. Just simple side dishes. There was seafood in the fridge too, but since he’d never cooked with it before, he decided to save that for another time.
It had been a while since he’d held a knife, and his movements were awkward. Slowly, carefully slicing a carrot to avoid injury, Haram hummed along to the sounds coming from the TV in the living room.
***
The room was thick with cigarette smoke, and Tae-yi’s discomfort was only growing. He let out a frustrated sigh, prompting Kang Tae-jin, who had just stubbed out his cigarette, to finally speak.
“I heard you went to see Father today. You should’ve told me—you could’ve taken me along.”
“So are you monitoring him now? Or just me?”
“Monitoring…?”
Kang Tae-jin trailed off, curling his lips into a faint smile. Sitting across from him, Tae-yi checked his watch, then looked up with a heavy sigh. As soon as their eyes met, Tae-jin spoke again.
“What are you planning to do with the countryside land? Why are you trying to buy it with your own money? You know there’s a proper process for that.”
“Didn’t seem like there was one.”
He responded with a small, scoffing smile. Blowing up someone else’s peanut field and going door to door strong-arming people to sell their land—that was the process?
“Like I told you before, this project is mine from start to finish. Stay out of it.”
“Are you starved for affection or something? You’re not a kid—what’s with this obsession over Dad’s attention? When I visited today, he couldn’t even open his eyes. He’s in no state to give a damn about you, so stop trying so hard.”
Kang Tae-yi had always been naturally gifted at getting under people’s skin. Tae-jin, fully aware he couldn’t win a war of words, forced a crooked smile.
“You’ve never cared about the chairman’s seat. This project started while you were away, so let me finish it.”
While I was away? Because of you, I nearly died. Yet you talk like it’s nothing.
When Tae-yi didn’t respond, Tae-jin continued.
“Everything’s ready now. We’re moving forward.”
Moving forward. Big words, as usual. Always puffing things up while delivering nothing.
“Don’t try to cover up your incompetence with brute force.”
“Don’t be snide. We’re progressing step by step. Don’t interfere. Especially not when you’re still on the board.”
Tae-jin’s gaze hardened, his face void of even his usual fake smile. Tae-yi simply gave him a faint grin in return. Uneasy, Tae-jin pressed further.
“I get it—you want revenge. But think about Father and the company, too.”
Tae-yi didn’t even blink, eyes still fixed on his watch. Tae-jin exhaled heavily.
“His name was Da Haram, right…?”
It was only when Tae-jin mentioned Haram’s name that Tae-yi finally looked up. That reaction alone piqued Tae-jin’s curiosity. What is it about that little rat that makes him react so instantly?
“You should just handle Da Haram’s field and house cleanup yourself. What’s the point in dragging this out? Just stay in Seoul with him, like you’re doing now. It doesn’t hurt you.”
Tae-jin wasn’t wrong. There was no harm in it. In fact, if Tae-yi set revenge aside, he had no real interest in the project anyway. It was flashy but doomed to fail.
Just like Tae-jin said, he could sit this one out, let him do as he pleased, and watch from the sidelines until the man made himself look like a bastard. Simple enough.
Of course, if he stayed out of it, all that awaited Da Haram was a grim reality. Still, selfishness bubbled to the surface.
But then, memories of Da Haram crying his eyes out while dealing with the debtor and Secretary Kim replayed in his mind. The image of Haram beaming while pulling weeds in the peanut field lingered too.
That bright, sun-drenched smile… It was the kind of smile that made others smile without meaning to. He wasn’t about to lose that—not over Kang Tae-jin.
Tae-jin watched quietly as Tae-yi suddenly stood. Tae-yi glanced at his watch and spoke.
“Did you know our father has a will?”
At the sudden curveball, Tae-jin furrowed his brows and held his breath. The way he tensed up made Tae-yi smirk. Without saying another word, he turned and walked out.
Vibrations buzzed from the phone in his jacket pocket. A string of texts from an unsaved number made Tae-yi chuckle lazily.
—When are you coming home?
—I made dinner! Don’t buy anything on the way!
—I’ll refill the fridge! Just get your wallet when you get back!
Can’t stand owing people anything, huh. Just reading the messages, Tae-yi could practically hear Haram’s cheerful voice echoing in his ear.
He was about to reply when—
“Director.”
A quiet voice called out. It was Chief Yoon, his expression serious, as if there was something he needed to say. But he clearly didn’t understand just how eager Tae-yi was to get back to Haram. He didn’t look ready to move at all.
“What are you doing?”
“What’s your plan? We should make our move now. If you show even the slightest intention of stepping into leadership, the support will follow naturally.”
His voice echoed with conviction inside the car. It wasn’t just talk—he was expecting an answer. But Tae-yi kept his gaze locked on his phone. The serene look on his face, one he never showed to anyone else, made it obvious that it was Da Haram’s message he was reading.
The reason Tae-yi hadn’t made a move yet was simple: he was afraid. Afraid of how Haram would react once he learned the whole truth. But that didn’t mean he could just let Kang Tae-jin have his way forever.
Chief Yoon forced himself to ignore the dull ache behind his eyes and took the wheel. All throughout the drive, he kept glancing back through the rearview mirror—but Tae-yi remained silent, eyes fixed out the window.
“Let’s go down to the countryside tomorrow.”
“And do what? Just to get beaten up with words again?”
“Persuade them.”
His resolve to scrap the resort project hadn’t wavered. But that didn’t mean he could stop securing land. What he needed now was time. If that land-rich grandmother changed her mind and sold to Kang Tae-jin in the meantime, it would be a massive headache.
After the short reply, Tae-yi returned his gaze to the passing scenery. Chief Yoon’s eyes widened as he grasped the weight of that single word.
“Are you really planning to shut down the resort project? Even if you bring Kang Tae-jin down, shouldn’t we at least finish the project? If you back out now, the losses will be huge.”
Pulling the plug on something already in motion would mean tremendous losses for the company. And even if Kang Tae-jin was successfully removed, if Tae-yi became the successor and canceled the project right away, he’d be slammed with backlash from the executives—and people would start questioning his qualifications. No, they absolutely would.
The deeper they went, the harder it was to understand just what kind of angle his boss was working from.
