A flight attendant glided down the aisle, her poised smile a testament to the excellence of the service. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” she announced in a soothing tone, her voice flowing like a gentle breeze. “We are currently cruising at thirty-five thousand feet, with an estimated arrival time in Seoul Korea, of approximately thirteen hours and thirty-three minutes. If there’s anything you need or any assistance required, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”
As the announcement faded, the crew began to assist the passengers, their warm smiles illuminating the cabin as they diligently checked on everyone. “Sir, is there anything we can get for you?” The flight attendant approached a man seated in the front row, her voice smooth and polite, her body angled slightly to convey her genuine concern.
The man, however, remained absorbed in the magazine held up to his face, barely acknowledging her presence. His aloof demeanor was a fortress, encasing him in a world of detachment. With a casual yet impeccably tailored jacket that hugged his broad shoulders and a gleaming, expensive watch on his wrist, he radiated the essence of a high-maintenance figure. His tall frame and striking features commanded attention, exuding the authority of a Korean chaebol—a man of undeniable prestige and power.
Beside him sat a man in his forties, whose secretary-like appearance and demeanor suggested a life of service. Observing the interaction with a subtle nod, he quickly stepped in. His smile was courteous, but his eyes sparkled with a hint of restrained amusement. “I apologize,” he said, raising a hand in a gesture of polite dismissal, his tone a blend of respect and gentle reprimand. “We’ll be sure to call for assistance if needed. Thank you.”
The flight attendant nodded with a graceful bow, her expression a mask of professional composure as she moved on. The aloof man remained impassive, his focus still firmly on the magazine, as if it shielded him from the world around him.
***
Twelve hours later…
The cabin lights gently brightened, pulling passengers from their restless slumber. An announcement crackled over the intercom, slicing through the soft hum of the plane’s engines. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Incheon International Airport. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened and all personal items are secured. We will be landing shortly. Thank you for choosing to fly with us today.”
The plane touched down smoothly, the wheels skimming the runway with a reassuring vibration. As the aircraft came to a halt at the gate, the flight attendants began their final preparations for disembarkation. Passengers gathered their belongings, excitement buzzing in the air as they anticipated their arrival, a mixture of eagerness and anxiety blending with the last echoes of in-flight announcements.
The man stood up, adjusting his tailored jacket with practiced ease, a silent assertion of his authority. His secretary followed closely, a flicker of relief crossing his face as they exited the plane. They navigated through the bustling airport terminal, the familiar sounds of announcements and footsteps resonating around them. The crowd thinned as they approached the arrival gate.
Waiting with a respectful posture and a warm smile was Mr. Kim, the family’s trusted butler. His eyes lit up with recognition as he spotted Youn-Jae, who had finally returned after nearly eighteen years away. Mr. Kim’s welcoming presence was a comforting constant amidst the flurry of the airport.
“Welcome back, Young Master,” Mr. Kim greeted, bowing deeply, his voice imbued with genuine warmth and respect. “It’s been a long time. We’re delighted to have you home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kim. It’s good to be back... I guess,” Youn-Jae replied, his voice tinged with a mix of arrogance and a surprisingly gentle undertone. His expression remained cool and detached, but his eyes softened briefly as they met the butler’s, a fleeting connection that hinted at buried emotions.
“The car is already waiting outside the exit. Shall we?” Mr. Kim gestured politely toward the exit, his demeanor both professional and fatherly.
Without another word, Youn-Jae took the lead, walking briskly ahead, a solitary figure amidst the bustling crowd. Mr. Kim and Secretary Min followed a few steps behind, their eyes exchanging silent glances of understanding. As they reached the exit, the driver stood ready, stepping forward to open the door of the sleek white pearl luxury car with tinted windows. Mr. Kim slipped into the front passenger seat, while Youn-Jae and Secretary Min settled into the back.
Youn-Jae crossed his legs casually, his hands folding over his lap as he leaned back against the plush seat. His gaze drifted out the window, scanning the roads that were both familiar and foreign to him. A cloud of nostalgia enveloped him as he tried to piece together fragments of his childhood, but the cityscape before him felt like a distant, unrecognizable past.
He was only twelve when Chairman Han adopted him, escaping the clutches of his cruel father, Kwang-Seok. Back then, his world had been confined to school, the house, and occasional errands for his mother. The Chairman’s house was a sanctuary, but beyond that, he knew little of the world outside his immediate surroundings.
For the past eighteen years in Germany, Youn-Jae had done his best to erase those dark memories. Even the Chairman had suggested he change his name to start fresh. Yet, he had resisted, determined to keep his identity intact, fueled by a significant hope—the longing for someone he had been searching for all these years.
Now, sitting in the car, Youn-Jae’s mind was awash with thoughts of the past. He was returning not just for business and family obligations but also for that elusive person who had woven their way into his heart, the very reason behind his decision to come back, despite the successful and peaceful life he had built in Germany.
Lost in his reflections, Youn-Jae didn’t notice the car nearing the mansion until the towering gates came into view, slowly parting to allow them entry. The gates opened automatically, triggered by sensors that recognized the car’s plate—a security measure put in place for exclusive visitors.
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The mansion loomed ahead, a grand and imposing structure that had stood largely empty, save for the Chairman, Mr. Kim, a few housekeepers, and some drivers. The Chairman had lived in this vast estate alone for years, occasionally hosting guests to break the solitude.
Eighteen years ago, when Youn-Jae was sent to Germany to study and learn the intricacies of the Han family business, Seo-Joon, Chairman Han’s true son, was sent to America two weeks earlier. This arrangement was partly due to a fallout between Seo-Joon and his father—a conflict that had fractured their relationship, much like the rift that had driven Youn-Jae away from his own father.
As the car pulled up to the mansion’s entrance, Youn-Jae took a deep breath, his heart pounding slightly at the sight of the grand estate. This was no longer just a house; it was a test, a return to a world that had once saved him and now demanded his place within it.
***
It was already six in the morning the next day, but Youn-Jae had managed only a little sleep. It wasn’t just the jet lag; the unfamiliar space and ambiance of the mansion added to his restlessness. He had no intention of staying in the mansion while in Korea, and beforehand, he had already instructed Secretary Min to find him a place of his own. Despite his father’s objections, Youn-Jae had mastered the art of charming his father into seeing things his way.
Yawning as he sat up in bed, Youn-Jae rubbed his eyes and stretched, wearing only cotton shorts and no shirt. The early summer season had just begun in Seoul, and the morning air was warm and inviting. He glanced out the window briefly, taking in the soft light of dawn filtering through the trees outside, then shuffled off to the bathroom to wash up. A few minutes later, he emerged, wiping his face with a towel. He grabbed a plain white T-shirt draped over the chair near his bed, slipped it on, and decided to go for a jog.
After about thirty minutes of jogging around the mansion grounds, Youn-Jae returned, slightly winded but energized, his body invigorated by the early morning run. As he approached the entrance, Mr. Kim was already waiting by the door, extending a soft white towel toward him.
“Young Master, your breakfast is ready, and your father is waiting for you,” Mr. Kim informed him, his tone respectful but firm, an undertone of urgency threading through his words. “He also mentioned you need to visit the company today.”
Youn-Jae took the towel, wiping the sweat off his face and neck. His white T-shirt clung to his body, revealing the outline of his toned physique. “What a good start to my first day here,” he muttered, handing the towel back to Mr. Kim, a hint of frustration lacing his voice. “Visiting the company first thing in the morning, huh?”
As Youn-Jae began walking down the hallway, he casually pulled off his T-shirt, ignoring the butler’s watchful gaze.
“Young Master, please don’t walk around without a shirt. Your father will scold you,” Mr. Kim warned, a mixture of concern and mild exasperation coloring his tone.
Youn-Jae paused, glancing back with a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. “Don’t worry. Just tell him I didn’t get the memo on house rules,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful defiance before continuing down the hall.
***
Secretary Min had already arrived at the mansion, checking his watch anxiously. After fifteen minutes of waiting, he was deep in conversation with Mr. Kim near the grand staircase, their voices low and urgent, occasionally interrupted by furtive glances at the clock.
“Is the President still not ready?” Secretary Min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the crease of worry on his brow deepening as he checked his watch again.
Mr. Kim, standing with his hands clasped in front of him, tilted his head slightly toward the staircase, his expression reflecting a mix of concern and duty. “Should I call him to his room?” he suggested, ready to take action at a moment's notice.
“No, no, don’t worry,” Secretary Min replied with a small wave of his hand, his demeanor attempting to convey calmness despite the flutter of anxiety in his chest. “I’ll just wait for him here. He should be down any minute.”
The air hung thick with anticipation as they continued their conversation, glancing at the staircase every few moments.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, Youn-Jae appeared at the top of the stairs. He was dressed in a crisp white polo shirt tucked neatly into tailored black trousers. Polished black shoes gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier, and an expensive watch glinted on his wrist. He carried his coat draped over one arm, his hair styled back with precision, embodying the essence of a young, professional businessman.
As he descended the stairs, a confident stride in his step, his expression shifted—an uncharacteristic seriousness replaced the usual arrogance. Despite his often childish demeanor and impulsive nature, Youn-Jae transformed into a disciplined leader when it came to business. He could be impulsive and short-tempered in personal matters, like the time he flew from Germany to America for a spontaneous vacation after his college graduation, living nights filled with revelry and trouble. Those escapades often landed him in the headlines, much to his father’s dismay. Yet, in the realm of business, Youn-Jae was disciplined, meticulous, and professional—a stark contrast to his reckless side.
The duality within him was palpable, and it allowed him to navigate between two worlds, often getting away with his antics, knowing his father would eventually soften at his charm.
***
The visit to the company unfolded smoothly. Youn-Jae toured each department, exchanging pleasantries with department heads who beamed with respect, and being formally introduced to board members eager to welcome him back. He shook hands firmly, the warmth of his grip a stark contrast to the polished image he portrayed. Each greeting was laced with underlying currents of expectation and admiration, underscoring the weight of the legacy he was poised to inherit.
After hours of familiarizing himself with the company and its people, Youn-Jae finally allowed himself a moment of solitude in the office prepared for him during his stay in Korea. The space was bathed in natural light, a serene refuge amidst the corporate hustle. He walked over to the large windows, gazing out at the city skyline—a breathtaking panorama that sparkled under the midday sun. It was a far cry from the grim streets of his past, a testament to how much his life had changed. Yet, it also served as a haunting reminder of the obstacles he had overcome, the hardships that had shaped him into the man he was today.
Lost in his thoughts, Youn-Jae stared at the view, a storm of emotions swirling within him, until the sound of three firm knocks on the door jolted him back to the present. Secretary Min entered, breaking the silence, his posture respectful but alert, as if ready to assist at any moment.
“President, what would you like for lunch? I can drive you wherever you’d like,” Secretary Min offered, his tone both respectful and attentive, his eyes scanning Youn-Jae’s face for any sign of fatigue or need.
“Oh, can we keep it light? Maybe a coffee shop with some pastries?” Youn-Jae replied, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia for the tastes of Germany. He absentmindedly fiddled with his watch, a subconscious gesture of yearning for the familiar comforts of home.
“Of course, President. I’ll have the car ready and wait for you in the lobby,” Secretary Min nodded, discreetly making his exit to prepare for their departure. As he closed the door, his expression held a mix of understanding and patience, knowing well the weight Youn-Jae carried on his shoulders.
Left alone once more, Youn-Jae leaned against the cool glass of the window, his gaze returning to the skyline. Memories washed over him, haunting yet familiar echoes of laughter and shadowed corners of his past, moments he thought he had buried. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, lost in the turbulent waters of reminiscence.
The story doesn't end here......