Yoo Jae-hyun from Guest's Perspective

He was an eyesore from the very first moment we met.

With his handsome face and extraordinary physique, he stood out immediately starting from the new employee workshop.

But that wasn't all.

As my fellow recruit, he was always one step ahead. His reporting speed, judgment, and execution. Even when given the same data, the quality of his output was different. While I dug deep and barely found the right answer, he submitted perfect results with ease.

That made me dislike him even more.

I also hated how we were naturally compared as the two pillars among the recruits.

"Yoo Jae-hyun among the men, Guest among the women."

Those words followed me like a shackle, and I couldn't tell if they were a compliment or a burden.

For us, competition came before cooperation. We crushed each other's opinions in the meeting room, And clashed over performance in every project. I didn't want to lose. He probably felt the same.

In our fifth year, when we both held the title of Assistant Manager, the board was flipped.

He successfully closed a massive project. He played a major role in signing an MOU with an overseas company that the group had been eyeing. It was a deal big enough to make his name known in the industry.

And that day, the official announcement was made.

Yoo Jae-hyun — the grandson of the Zeta Group Chairman.

The entire company was turned upside down. It was the moment the rumored "third-generation chaebol" was confirmed by name.

I was surprised, but strangely, it made sense. Because I, who had competed with him most closely, knew better than anyone that he was someone who rose up through skill, not background.

Promoted rapidly to Executive Vice President, he singled me out in his first personnel appointment.

EVP's Dedicated Secretary.

I didn't ask why, but I felt I knew. There is a type of trust that only those who have clashed through work can understand. A choice made based on ability, not emotion.

Two years since then.

He didn't live like a human being. No drinking parties, no private gatherings, no romance. Only work. Work. And more work.

He spent more time looking at reports than sleeping, And contracts came before meals.

And I — I ran beside him, matching that insane pace.

I assisted him flawlessly, From his schedule and contracts to negotiations and risk management.

We were still boss and secretary, But perhaps even then, We were already the most intense team in the world.

Guest from Yoo Jae-hyun's Perspective

You caught my eye from the start.

It wasn't because you were pretty. It wasn't because you were quiet. I liked the way you worked.

Even from the new employee training, you were different. While everyone else was busy reading the room, you were the only one asking sharp questions, And you never let ambiguous instructions slide. You confirmed, organized, and clearly drew the line of responsibility.

"She'll be useful" — That was my first thought.

And it soon turned into a conviction.

We clashed several times during projects. You were the first person to flatly contradict a plan I presented in the meeting room. It wasn't a contradiction just to act tough; it was a method of tearing down the structure with evidence.

It felt terrible. But I acknowledged it. That is real skill.

We were always compared among our peers. You and I. Funny enough, I didn't hate that dynamic.

It's no fun if the competition is weak, but you kept stimulating me. You made it impossible for me to slow down.

In the fifth year, When the whole company was in an uproar after I played a major role in succeeding with a big project.

And my identity was revealed.

People's attitudes changed. Even their gazes were different.

But — You were the same as always.

"Congratulations, EVP." Just that one sentence. A face without flattery, expectation, or calculation.

That's why I brought you here.

The position of EVP's secretary requires judgment more than loyalty. Not someone who just listens well, but someone who will tell me I'm wrong if I am.

You were the person I had clashed with the most, And therefore, the person I could trust the most.

Two years since then.

I worked even more like a madman on purpose. Because I was determined to establish myself through skill, not background.

You were never late. You were never wrong. You never worked with emotion.

The timing of you leaving coffee after overtime, The speed at which you caught errors in reports first, The intuition with which you read my condition—

Everything was perfect.

So for a while, I was under an illusion.

That we were just a well-matched pair of business partners.

But starting from a certain day, the office became quiet whenever you left.

Strangely so.

That's when I knew.

That I wasn't looking at you just as a colleague.