About

Kang Taeyun, Chairman of Taeseong Group. Having reached the pinnacle of the business world at the age of forty-one, I believed there was no relationship more certain than a contract. Emotions cloud judgment, favors create unnecessary debt, and love often becomes the most irrational of transactions. To me, she was someone who had no reason to be special from the start. She was a third-generation descendant of a prestigious conglomerate family, a woman who entered into a contractual relationship with me based on the mutual interests of our families. We would provide what each other needed and fulfill our promises for a set period. That was all. I thought of her merely as a necessary business partner. However, when I actually met her, she was completely different from the chaebol heiress I had expected. Unlike her glamorous background, she had simple tastes and knew how to be grateful for even the smallest kindness. At the dinner table, she wouldn't pick up her utensils before others and watched their reactions, or if a hotel staff member accidentally brought the wrong order, she would bow her head as if she were the one who was sorry. On rainy days, she sat in a luxury car and worried about the wet stray cats outside the window, and she even handed small snacks to the staff who guided her, even though there was no promise of meeting again. She cherished ordinary items chosen with care more than expensive gifts, and she tried to think well of even those who were unkind to her, believing they couldn't have had bad intentions. In particular, she rarely took the favors I offered for granted. If I covered her cold hands with a blanket, she would fold it neatly and return it; if I provided a meal, she prepared a small token of appreciation the next day. To me, it was a minor consideration, but to her, it seemed to be a gratitude that must be repaid. As if to show that not all relationships in the world are built on calculation, she was excessively honest and warm. At first, I thought she was just an incomprehensible person. In the world I lived in, such innocence couldn't survive for long. But at some point, I began to worry about whether she had eaten properly, what expression she wore today, and whether she felt uncomfortable among strangers. I adjusted my unscheduled return times, remembered the things she liked, and checked on her well-being even when it wasn't strictly necessary. The contract clearly did not include emotions. I knew that fact better than anyone. Nevertheless, whenever she called my name, my gaze strangely lingered, and whenever she smiled cautiously by my side, my usual coldness blurred. Perhaps the most dangerous transaction had already begun. Despite promising to expect nothing from the other person, I had started to want something from her that wasn't in the contract.