Chapter 40

Yuna’s POV

The car was silent, save for the low hum of the engine. I sat in the back, eyes on the blur of the city sliding past the tinted window, though my thoughts had nothing to do with the streets.

Tch. Irritation still lingered, sharp at the edges. He really thought he could keep something from me—his own wife. That naïve husband of mine.

But out of all people… it had to be Sera. 

If it had been some nobody, some desperate woman grasping at what wasn’t hers, I would have made sure she suffered before the day was done. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was Sera. Which meant I couldn’t simply crush her head-on.

I exhaled slowly, letting the irritation simmer just beneath the surface.

“So what’s the situation Harin.” my voice broke through.

At the driver’s seat, Harin’s knuckles tightened around the wheel. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was nervous.

“It’s about Daehan, Chairwoman.”

My lips curved slightly. “I thought we already closed the door on them? There should be no business left between us.”

“Yes, Chairwoman. That’s correct.” Harin’s voice faltered slightly before steadying. “But… the Minister of Oceans and Fisheries has contacted us. He’s on his way to the office now. He personally requested an immediate meeting. The notification only came through moments ago from his secretariat.”

“…The Minister?” My eyes narrowed. 

Harin nodded quickly. “Yes. It appears to be regarding the collaboration with Daehan—the one you already declined. From the tone of his office… it seems Daehan has managed to push their case through official channels. They’re trying to force it back on the table.”

Huh? all of a sudden? My brows knitted slightly, though my expression stayed composed. I thought Sera never really cared about this. She acted indifferent… so why push now?

The thought tightened something inside my chest. Surely, it’s not because of this morning. No… could it be? Did she really have the nerve to go this far just because I took Haemin away in front of her?

I pressed my lips together, the irritation coiling deeper. If that were true, then Hwang Sera was even more pathetic than I thought. So she is that kind of woman—the kind who dares to lay her hands on someone else’s household? To think she would even try to challenge me in this way.

A faint click of my tongue escaped before I leaned back, schooling my face into serenity. But inside, the fury was unmistakable. Touch my husband, and I will make you regret it, Sera.

I shifted slightly, settling deeper into the leather seat, my expression calm as though none of these thoughts touched me. My legs crossed with practiced ease, and I let my fingertips drum once against the armrest before stilling. On the surface, it was nothing more than a casual gesture—but beneath it, my fury pressed sharp and unrelenting.

“So,” I murmured, my voice measured, almost indifferent, “the Minister believes he can simply march into my company and demand a conversation.”

From the driver’s seat, Harin swallowed hard. “He sounded… insistent. I believe Daehan orchestrated this.”

A humorless curve touched my lips. “Of course she did.”

Silence fell again, heavy but deliberate, giving me space to sort through each thread. If Sera thought pulling government strings would rattle me, then she had only exposed her desperation.

Harin’s voice broke through. “…Chairwoman. May I ask something?”

I didn’t answer right away. 

She hesitated, then pressed on. “About Mr. Kim… is he alrigh—”

“Harin.” My voice cut through.

Harin startle by my voice. “I—I’m sorry, I overstep my boundaries.”

The rest of the drive unfolded in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us.

⸻

The car slowed to a stop in front of Nara Group’s headquarters. Harin stepped out first and opened the door for me. I stepped out of the car, as staff and security lined up with polite bows before quietly falling in step behind me.

Inside, the board members had already gathered, their low murmurs filling the air. The moment they noticed my presence, they straightened and bowed respectfully.

“Chairwoman,” one of them greeted with a respectful bow. “The Minister has arrived and is waiting in the executive lounge.”

I gave a short nod and walked forward with Harin. The two security guards at the entrance bowed deeply before pulling the doors open. Harin remained outside as I stepped in.

Inside, the Minister was already seated. The moment I entered, he rose to his feet, his smile thin and unreadable.

“Chairwoman Seo,” he greeted, his tone neither warm nor deferential. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

I gave a nod, before settling into the armchair across from him. “I’m a busy person, Minister. I assume this is something that couldn’t wait.” 

The Minister sat opposite, leaning back in his chair with a calm confidence that hinted at his years in politics. “Then let us not waste each other’s time. This collaboration with Daehan—why refuse it? You know as well as I do that it isn’t merely about profit. It’s about positioning. Logistics and infrastructure are arteries of the economy. If two of Korea’s largest conglomerates stand divided, the ripple won’t end at your boardroom. It will weaken our standing in global competition.”

My fingers tapped once against the armrest before stilling. “And yet Daehan was the one who chose to run to you rather than face me directly. That says more about them than any speech about national interest.”

A faint smile curved his lips. “They see you as too formidable to confront head-on. I, however, don’t share that hesitation. Whether you agree or not, this project will advance. The only question is whether Nara takes its rightful seat at the table—or leaves Daehan to consolidate the gains alone.”

I tilted my head slightly, my voice calm, almost amused. “So you’ve taken the role of their spokesman. Interesting. Since when did national policy become so conveniently aligned with a single conglomerate’s ambition?”

His eyes narrowed, but his composure didn’t falter. “Don’t mistake alignment for submission. Daehan understands the value of partnership. And I—” his words slowed, deliberate “—understand that when conglomerate war with each other, the damage bleeds into government, markets, even diplomacy. My role is not to pick a side, Chairwoman—it is to make sure both sides remember the weight they carry.”

The corner of my mouth lifted faintly, amusement threading through the calm steel of my voice. “That’s a noble justification, Minister. Though to me, it sounds less like balance and more like someone ensuring he doesn’t lose his footing between giants.”

He didn’t deny it. “Call it what you like. But my offer stands: another meeting. You, Daehan’s representative, and myself as mediator. If you are as certain of your ground as you appear, then surely you have nothing to lose by coming.”

I studied him, unblinking, letting the tension settle into the air. At last, I inclined my chin slightly. “Very well. Arrange it. I’ll attend.”

Relief never touched his expression—only a cool satisfaction.

I lowered my gaze to my clasped hands, hiding the change in my expression. If Sera wanted the stage, I would give it to her. I wanted to see with my own eyes what trick she thought she could play on me.

_______

The house was quiet when I arrived. Too quiet.

The faint glow of the city spread across the wide windows, but it didn’t soothe me. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I stepped inside, each sound sharp in the silence.

“Haemin,” I called softly.

No answer.

I set my handbag down on the counter, slipping off my coat. My jaw tightened. He wouldn’t dare run away… would he?

Just as the thought began to twist in my chest, I heard the faint sound of water running. The bathroom.

Relief flickered, but it was instantly buried under something heavier. Why didn’t he come to greet me?

Moments later, he stepped out, hair damp, wearing a simple white shirt and sweatpants. He froze when he saw me in the living room, his eyes widening slightly.

“Yuna… you’re home early.”

I stood there, outwardly calm, though my chest tightened at the sight of his bruised body. My gaze lingered on him until he shifted uneasily. Slowly, I stepped closer. My fingers reached up, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead before tracing lightly down to his jaw. He flinched at the touch, but didn’t pull away.

“Did you eat?” I asked, my tone smooth.

“Not yet… I was waiting for you.”

That answer should have pleased me. Instead, I felt irritation prick deeper. “Then why didn’t you wait here in the living room?”

His throat bobbed. “I just… thought I’d shower first.”

My lips curved faintly—not quite a smile. My hand slid down, resting on his shoulder, tightening just enough to make him feel the weight of my presence. “Next time, wait where I can see you. Understand?”

“…Yes,” he murmured, eyes lowered.

I didn’t let him go. Instead, I slowly drew him into my arms. His head rested just beneath my chin, and a soft sigh escaped me as I settled him against me.

His shoulders stiffened at first, but when he realized I wasn’t letting go, he gave in.

“I’m sorry, Haemin.” My arms tightened around him, just slightly, keeping him close.

“Huh?” He blinked, caught off guard. His voice wavered with confusion, still muffled against me.

“I know you’ve always loved me,” I said softly. “And none of this is your fault.”

I brushed my fingers slowly through his damp hair, smoothing it back with a tenderness that didn’t match the morning’s violence. “You’ve endured so much because of me. More than anyone else ever could.”

He swallowed, his breath shaky against my shoulder.

“You’ve been patient with me, even when I was cruel. You never gave up on me. Do you understand how much that means to me?” My voice lowered, almost breaking into a whisper. “Haemin… I don’t think I could ever love anyone the way I love you.”

His body relaxed fully then, like he wanted to believe every word.

My arms stayed around him—gentle, protective, holding him in place. But that only made the words I was about to say all the more cruel.

“Haemin,” I whispered again, brushing my lips against his temple as if to soothe him.

“Yes?” His voice was cautious, uncertain, but there was a flicker of hope in it—as though he believed this fragile moment of calm might finally last.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” I murmured, letting my hand linger against his cheek. “That’s why I have to make things right. That’s why things will be different from now on.”

I drew in a slow breath, letting the quiet stretch long enough for him to sink into the comfort of my embrace. Then, gently, I said—

“Starting tomorrow, you won’t be going back to university.”