The Stray Route

Jae-hwi had no desire to be a stalker. Having been the victim of such behavior several times while living in Germany, he knew all too well how horrific it could be.

Anyone can fantasize about someone they like. Depending on the intensity, if those fantasies were ever discovered, it might be dismissed with a simple, “Wow, you’ve got a dark, obsessive streak.”

But the moment one acts to turn those fantasies into reality—and if that action makes the other person uncomfortable without their consent—the situation changes entirely. Jae-hwi could swear he had done nothing to cause her genuine distress.

“Have you already branded me as that kind of guy after meeting only twice? I’m not like that.”

Jae-hwi pouted as if wronged, his eyes brimming with a mix of grievance and disappointment.

“…Sorry. I was just a bit startled.”

“I want to be that kind of guy, though.”

“…….”

“No, I mean—it’s not like I’m going to do anything. It’s just a wish. I’m allowed to think, aren’t I?”

He tilted his head with a sly smile, and the look in Taerin’s eyes shifted toward pure contempt. Jae-hwi found the diverse range of reactions she showed him so entertaining that he let his lips curl upward.

“So you do know. You know how I look at you.”

“…You.”

“It’s certainly… different from the old days, isn’t it?”

His voice was a sultry whisper as he met her defiant, cat-like eyes.

“I told you I’m engaged, Goo Jae-hwi. Don’t you have anything better to do than hitting on someone else’s woman?”

“Won Taerin isn’t the type to be anyone’s ‘woman,’ is she? If we’re being technical, it’s more accurate to say Jeong Se-hyeon is Won Taerin’s man.”

“Fine. And it’s definitely not you.”

“But I heard that bastard is seeing another woman.”

“Ha….”

“Why keep a thing like that around? Throw him away.”

The day they reunited at the gallery, Jae-hwi had realized that Jeong Se-hyeon was nothing more than a hollow placeholder of a fiancé. Relationships like that were usually a matter of weighing gains against losses. If he was useless, discarding him shouldn’t be difficult.

Jae-hwi intended to make it so Taerin couldn’t find a single shred of utility in Jeong Se-hyeon. To that end, he was currently digging into every inch of that foul-smelling man’s background. He was certain the day Se-hyeon would lose the title of ‘Won Taerin’s man’ was not far off.

Having returned to Korea after thirteen years, he was in a hurry. Because he was in a hurry, there was no time to hesitate. Jae-hwi was determined to shake Taerin’s heart and violently uproot everything that cluttered her life. That was the singular purpose of his past years.

“Who are you to tell me to throw him away or not…?”

“If you won’t, then you should see another man, too. I’ll be your ‘second.'”

Without blinking an eye, Jae-hwi made the audacious proposal, his eyes curving softly.

He had no intention of keeping his pride intact in front of Won Taerin. For now, he needed to secure the position of the ‘second’—the side piece. Not that he actually intended to share her affection with anyone else. He would start as the second and simply cut everyone else out.

“You think I don’t have one?”

“Do you?”

“I do. Someone cute.”

Jae-hwi’s eyes widened at her casual response. Taerin pushed his arm aside as if telling him to move, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he lowered his gaze to her hand resting against his arm.

Sensing his gaze becoming obsessive, Taerin tried to pull her hand away, but Jae-hwi caught it, laughing as he leaned down.

“Then that makes things even easier. Take me instead of that guy.”

Whether she had just washed them, or her hands were naturally cold, or she was simply feeling the chill—Taerin’s hands were freezing on this winter day. Feeling a pang of distress, Jae-hwi pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand, lifting only his eyes to stare at her.

“…Goo Jae-hwi. I only tolerate jokes to a certain point.”

“You know I’m not joking.”

“…Stop. Let go of me.”

Was the sensation of his words against her skin ticklish? Or were the lips touching her hand too hot? Taerin gave a small, involuntary shiver and swallowed hard. At her command, Jae-hwi finally withdrew his lips. Contrary to his lingering gaze, the movement of releasing her hand was surprisingly brisk.

“I have to get back. My party is waiting. Go your own way.”

Breaking free from him, Taerin spoke while looking down, smoothing her slightly wrinkled clothes. However, her voice carried a trace of fluster she couldn’t quite hide. The tips of her ears were flushed red. Noticing that slight tremor, Jae-hwi’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.

“My way… I have to go, don’t I? After all, I know exactly who showed me the path.”

Looking as though she didn’t understand his meaning, Taerin turned away coldly, clearly done with the conversation.

Ah, what a shame.

Jae-hwi stood tall, savoring the lingering sensation of her waist in his hands, the weight of her body in his arms, and the texture of her skin against his lips.

“I only need one thing at the end of that path.”

“…….”

“I don’t need anything else. Just one.”

As if the sincerity in his low, heavy resonance had reached her, Taerin looked back once more. There she was, framed by the long, sweeping corridor. Jae-hwi committed the image of her to memory, a vision to revisit before he slept tonight.

There was still a long way to go. But because it was a long way, he looked forward to it all the more.

Because the path led to Won Taerin. It was bound to be enjoyable.

Even after Taerin turned away and vanished into the distance, Jae-hwi stood in that spot for a long time. As long as the scent of the person he loved lingered in the air, he couldn’t move a single step.

At the end of an alley lined with high-walled houses in Yeon-o-dong sat Ban-gu-jae, the ancestral home of the GH Group’s founding family.

Ban-gu-jae. Goo Kwang-hyun had named it after the four-character idiom Ban-gu-jeo-gi—meaning that when things go wrong, one looks for the cause within oneself rather than blaming others. The sentiment was grand enough.

Inside the walls of Ban-gu-jae sat Du-gu-gwan, a separate residence for the domestic staff. This, too, was derived from an idiom—Du-gu-tan-seong, meaning to close one’s mouth and swallow one’s voice. It was a stark revelation of Goo Kwang-hyun’s philosophy.

Goo Kwang-hyun had sent all his other children away to live with his eldest son’s family, but his daughter-in-law had died young, and he had lost his son in a helicopter accident a few years ago. Thus, the only members of the Goo family currently living in Ban-gu-jae were Jae-hwi and Goo Kwang-hyun.

His eldest granddaughter, Goo Jae-kyung, had divorced several years ago and lived alone, while the second granddaughter, Goo Jae-eun, was married and had her own household.

Before Jae-hwi’s return to Korea, Goo Kwang-hyun had spent several years alone in this massive house. His second son, Goo Yoon-mo, had begged several times to move back in and care for his father, but he was rebuffed every time for one reason.

“Do not covet what is not yours.”

The Chairman held an ironclad rule: only the lineage of the eldest son could live in the main house. The reason for this obsession lay in his own past, having spent his life chasing the shadow of his younger brother despite being the firstborn.

Goo Kwang-hyun’s brother, Goo Kwang-jun, was the one who built Guhyeon Electronics, the seed of the GH Group. Though Kwang-hyun had spent his life being compared to his brilliant brother, it was also true he had benefited from him, leaving him with an unspoken inferiority complex.

When his brother died at a young age from sudden cancer, Kwang-hyun seized Guhyeon Electronics. It was exactly when the company began to make a name for itself globally.

He was lucky. Goo Kwang-jun had died childless, leaving only a wife who knew nothing but housekeeping, so there was no battle over the inheritance. Taking over his brother’s achievements, he expanded the business in earnest. Blessed by timing, the company grew daily in tandem with national policies, resulting in the GH Group of today.

Perhaps because of this history, he favored only the firstborn. His devotion to the eldest son flowed from Goo Yoon-han down to Jae-hwi.

“Am I not your son, Father?” “The things you wear, eat, and enjoy—are they not all possible because you are my son?” “Father!” “You should only look at what you’re allowed to. Yoon-mo, greed invites calamity. If you live according to your station, no one will have cause to speak.”

Goo Kwang-hyun had been suppressing his second son, Goo Yoon-mo, for a very long time. It wasn’t that he disliked him, but he believed the first and second sons had roles and responsibilities befitting their respective positions.

Since their roles were different, their treatment had to be different. Discrimination was natural; favoritism was the same.

But then, the eldest son, Yoon-han, died. After a period of shock and grief, the Chairman had to pull himself together. He had to think about reality.

There was his eldest granddaughter, Goo Jae-kyung—smart, but with an ambition far larger than her narrow heart. And there was his eldest grandson, Goo Jae-hwi—gentle and soft, but possessing a brilliant mind.

He began to observe them both, weighing them in his hands to see upon whom he should pour his affection. It went without saying that his living second son, Managing Director Goo Yoon-mo, was excluded from the start.

Goo Jae-kyung referred to Jae-hwi as “dirty blood.” An illegitimate child born to a Russian dancer whom Goo Yoon-han had met to satisfy abnormal desires he couldn’t ask of his virtuous wife. Therefore, she cried out that it was horrific to even be compared to such a “filthy thing” and begged her grandfather to take her side.

At first, Goo Kwang-hyun had thought so, too. The boy brought in to replace the grandson who had died in the care of his frail daughter-in-law seemed utterly useless. He had almost decided to groom Jae-kyung, despite his reservations.

But…