Divorce in Bed Chapter 24

It wasn’t simply a matter of enjoying a honeymoon. Dowon was currently in seclusion, sharpening something.

While it wasn’t clear exactly what he was aiming for, an ominous premonition that the blade was pointed at him brushed down Do Jingyu’s spine.

“The inheritance Seong Yeohwi brought—is he planning to use that as a weapon?”

Do Jingyu furrowed his brow and rested his chin on his hand.

“But even so, that should have been nothing more than pocket change.”

As far as he knew, the inheritance left by Chairman Seong had a high nominal value, but there weren’t many assets that could be liquidated immediately. At most, it would be enough for Dowon’s maintenance costs.

And yet, for the legal team to move in top secrecy, the scale had to be significant.

“Is something hidden…?”

Do Jingyu’s eyes shimmered with suspicion.

Could it be that the late Chairman Seong had hidden away a separate slush fund for his grandson? If Dowon had found it and intended to use it as live ammunition to attack him, the story changed.

“I’ll have to dig through everything again, just in case. Hmm?”

Do Jingyu tapped his finger on the desk.

Dowon was a threatening opponent even on his own.

But if he had gained a financier with massive capital—especially if it was secret funding of unknown origin—it became a threat. Even more so if that financier was a naive kid Dowon could manipulate at will.

‘Could it be that Father even had this in mind…?’

The sudden arranged marriage. He had thought it was a welcome proclamation that Dowon would be completely excluded from the succession candidates. If he had miscalculated, it was a disaster.

“Secretary Kim.”

“Yes, President.”

“Re-investigate the scale of Chairman Seong’s inheritance from the ground up.”

“Pardon?”

“What we know might not be everything. Not just the reported inheritance, but hidden slush funds, alias accounts, overseas corporations…”

Do Jingyu leaned forward and growled lowly.

“Search through everything and bring it to me, don’t let a single rat slip away. I want to know the exact scale and where it was hidden.”

“Understood. I will set to work immediately.”

“And, we’re changing targets. Don’t think about striking Dowon. That fellow has no openings. Touching him now will only stir up a hornets’ nest.”

“Then, who… do you mean?”

“Seong Yeohwi.”

The corners of Do Jingyu’s mouth curled up smoothly.

“If that kid is Dowon’s money line, we have to cut that line first.”

“Shall we conduct a background check as well?”

“Yes. Very thoroughly.”

Exultation mixed into Do Jingyu’s voice.

“Dig through everything from the moment he was born until now—even the air he breathed and exhaled. Did that inheritance really pass over cleanly? See if there was tax evasion, illegal gifting, or… any disputes with relatives during the process of a young kid inheriting it alone.”

He was certain.

Where there is money, there is no cleanliness. There is no rich man who doesn’t produce dust when shaken. If there is no dust, one simply has to coat them in it.

Seong Yeohwi was Dowon’s legal spouse and was proclaimed as his husband in name and reality at the founding party. Therefore, if Seong Yeohwi fell, Dowon would collapse with him. It made him the most useful weapon for Do Jingyu.

“And one more thing.”

Do Jingyu added.

“Find the boy’s weakness. Not money, but people. Whether it’s a tutor he relied on in the past or a relative who was kicked out. Find someone who would drive a knife into his back if given enough money.”

“Understood.”

Secretary Kim left, and heavy silence once again hung over the President’s office.

Do Jingyu looked down at the Seoul city center visible outside the window.

“Dowon, you impudent fellow. You dare covet my position?”

He glared into the distance, in the direction of Dowon’s villa.

“Sometimes I want to lock you in the attic and give you a sound thrashing with a switch, just like when you were young… The expression you had while clinging to me, crying and begging, is still vivid in this great-uncle’s eyes.”

The storm had not yet arrived.

But black rain clouds were already gathering silently over the roof of Dowon’s villa. It was the thundercloud that had followed him his entire life.

‧₊˚🍊༉‧₊˚.

Before long, the tail of the season began to turn.

Traces of autumn settled where the bright sunlight that used to hit the windows had faded.

The clear, blue summer air now sank heavily, carrying the scent of rustling fallen leaves, and the greenery of the garden surrounding the villa was dyed with colorful autumn foliage.

The sun, which used to stay up even at late hours, now set earlier with each passing day, leading the window towards a deep blue darkness.

Within that flow of time, Dowon’s study was a single secret room disconnected from the world. A private place where suffocating silence, the scratching of fountain pens, the sound of typing, and the irregular breathing of two people intersected.

Seong Yeohwi lived as Dowon’s shadow for a long time. Every morning he “commuted” to the study to memorize and re-memorize the vast amount of data and professional knowledge Dowon threw at him.

It was a method of teaching that threw him off a cliff without showing any mercy, but Yeohwi did not run away and took the fierce waves with his whole body.

The will to succeed somehow drove him forward, and thanks to Yeohwi following along better than expected, a subtle change occurred in the atmosphere between the two.

Although it was a co-presence linked by education and surveillance under the rigid pretext of a “deal,” the temperature was slightly different than before when their gazes met or short conversations were exchanged while facing tired eyes late at night.

For instance, one might call it a bond formed for the same purpose.

Though it might be nothing more than a temporary alliance ahead of the conclusion that was divorce, at least for now, they could be accomplices sharpening their blades together for the day of the decisive battle.

And finally, that time had come.

“The share structure of ‘Stone,’ the Special Purpose Vehicle (SPV) established in the Cayman Islands, is superficially dispersed across multiple alias accounts.”

Yeohwi swallowed hard internally and pulled out the sentences he had etched into his mind one by one. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed significantly with tension. The air in the study wavered precariously, like a stone tower stacked high to its limit.

“However, if you backtrace the source of the funds, it matches exactly with the dividend flow of the unlisted stock, Taeseong Logistics. Do Jingyu intended to launder these funds to participate in the paid-in capital increase of KD Construction to strengthen his control.”

Dowon was leaning obliquely against the edge of the desk.

His lips were firmly shut as he crossed his arms. Blue veins stood out on the forearms where his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

His lightless black eyes obsessively pursued every movement of Yeohwi’s lips and every slight quiver of his eyelashes without missing a single detail.

“Therefore, we…”

Yeohwi took a moment to catch his breath. A drop of cold sweat trickled down his temple.

“Must induce a default for Stone through an offshore fund and force the liquidation of Do Jingyu’s alias shares held as collateral. The funds needed for this will be raised through the convertible bonds I inherited.”

The moment the final sentence ended, only heavy silence remained in the study.

Nothing could be read from Dowon’s expressionless face. Only the ticking of the antique clock in the study filled the space.

Yeohwi clenched his fists. His short-trimmed fingernails dug into his palms, leaving half-moon marks.

The sound of his heart thumping was clearly audible in his ears.

Was I wrong? Was I too fast?

Dowon’s long index finger tapped—tap, tap—against his own crossed arm. That rhythmic beat grated on Yeohwi’s nerves.

“…Mister Dowon?”

Dowon slowly stood up.

As his figure drew closer, a massive shadow covered Yeohwi. The cool scent of cedarwood drifted over.

Yeohwi reflexively hunched his shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut. Afraid he would be scolded again. Afraid he would face another cold judgment that he was lacking.

“Open your eyes.”

He slowly lifted his quivering eyelashes. Right in front of his nose, at a distance where their breath could touch, Dowon was looking down at him. It was a distance so close he could see his own reflection in Dowon’s pupils.

“Pass.”

“…Pardon?”

“Well done. Without missing a single syllable.”

The moment that low, heavy word struck his chest, Yeohwi’s legs nearly gave out, and he almost collapsed. The fingertips gripping the desk turned white.

The hardships of the past month, the hours spent staying up all night drinking bitter coffee, flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope. The words “well done” coming from those dry, red lips that had never offered a single compliment. The weight of it was so sweet.

“Then, is it really the beginning now?”

Yeohwi asked with an overwhelmed voice. His clear, excited eyes sparkled under the lights.

“Yes.”

Dowon turned around and walked toward the world map occupying one wall of the study.

His long, straight finger pointed to a spot in Europe, a small country nestled beneath the Alps. Yeohwi marveled inwardly at how every knuckle of his fingers and every single movement was elegant and powerful.