It's Pretty Fucking Shitty

The Paradisus estate, nestled at the edge of Hannam-dong and embracing the surrounding nature in its entirety.

This place that always seemed to carry an undercurrent of darkness somewhere within it.

When Tae-yul appeared—the former sole heir to Kang-an Group, the country’s top-ranked conglomerate—the estate stirred with a vitality it had long lacked.

“Wow! That designer suit is truly magnificent. So grand!”

It was the exclamation from Su-ran, his aunt and the only member of the gathered family who openly welcomed his return.

In the midst of her loud applause-filled greeting, Tae-yul—dressed in an emerald suit—stretched out his exceptionally long legs.

His return after nine years, having completely severed ties with the family, could have been awkward. Yet he displayed nothing but overwhelming confidence.

It was only natural. After all, this had once been his home.

Tae-yul boldly claimed the empty seat prepared for him and offered a faint smile across the table to Su-ran.

She had thrown a tearful tantrum when he left for the United States half by choice and half by force. In that sense, she was the one family member truly devoted to him.

In contrast, Do-yul, Cha-yul, and their mother Gong Yeo-sa were quick to reveal their displeasure, each in a manner that suited their faces.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin with the meal.”

At Chairman Kang’s words from his wheelchair at the head of the table, the kitchen maids began setting the dishes at a perfectly measured pace.

Tae-yul met eyes in turn with Do-yul—his stepbrother, seated to the right of the chairman in the place that had always been his since birth—then with Cha-yul.

These were the proud sons of Gong Yeo-sa, who had risen from being their father’s secretary to claiming the position of family matriarch the moment the funeral for Tae-yul’s mother—killed in a suspicious accident—had ended.

In truth, befitting a family of the highest external prestige, the Kang-an family tree was a complete mess of scandals.

Just like the ornate tableware holding the formally arranged food above the table.

Kang Su-ran, the Foundation Director whose hysteria could sometimes reduce the entire massive estate to rubble, was one such character.

Of course, there was exactly one family member she obeyed without question. It was Tae-yul’s mother, who was not present at this table.

So it was only natural that Su-ran cherished Tae-yul above all.

The maids knew what to do. Su-ran busily placed before him every dish she thought her only nephew might enjoy.

“Does no one have an appetite?”

Su-ran quickly chimed in as Tae-yul focused on his meal with cool, elegant chopstick strokes for every dish she offered.

“Right? It seems it’s time we replaced that chef Lady Gong has insisted on keeping from France.”

“Why? It suits my taste perfectly.”

With Tae-yul’s arrival, the entire family dynamic seemed to flip completely from just a few meaningless remarks.

At that moment, Chief Jo, the executive secretary standing beside Chairman Kang, gestured beyond the opaque glass wall.

It was a signal meant for Seol-hye, who had been summoned.

From the diagonal angle of Tae-yul’s inadvertently drawn gaze, her calm steps came to a stop.

Her attire could only be described as a refined uniform.

Brown wavy hair tied in a single bundle flowed all the way down to her strikingly slender waist.

Tae-yul’s dark eyes lingered on the back of her unusually small head.

As if he were drinking in the sight of someone he had long imagined.

Kang Tae-yul. Without him even realizing it, she had already taken root deep inside him.

In the meantime.

“You called for me, Chairman?”

Chairman Kang always wore that same gentle expression whenever he faced Seol-hye, who remained impeccably polite yet carried an exceptional spirit.

“You’re here. Director An, join us for the meal.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Beyond her role as the family’s control tower, this was the decisive reason the Kang-an relatives glared at her.

As the years went by, he called for her more and more. Now he openly kept her closer and trusted her more than his own blood. To them, resentment was only natural.

Of course, Chairman Kang had not placed her at his side from the beginning.

It would have been impossible without the several critical cases she had resolved through her strategy and influence while part of the special task force assembled to manage owner risk more thoroughly.

For someone who had once been no more than a speck of dust in the Kang-an family to catch the eye of the man who ruled this vast clan.

It was only natural. From the moment she was born the daughter of a servant until nine years ago, right before her mother drew her last breath, she had been nothing but an insignificant creature living on charity.

Yet thanks to her truly exceptional abilities, she had helped the company avoid fatal risks time and again.

The fact that she had prevented Su-ran from being forced to relinquish her position as Foundation Director and be exiled overseas said everything.

“Please enjoy your meal, Chairman.”

“I’ll head to Fides shortly.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll wait for you there.”

Among the gazes fixed on Seol-hye as she gracefully withdrew, Su-ran’s was the most openly displeased. She set her fork down on her plate with a loud clack.

“Father! Why do you treat An Seol-hye so specially? I really can’t understand it no matter how hard I try!”

“It’s mealtime.”

“No, and ever since you collapsed and woke up, you’ve been seeking her out even more. How can you have more private meetings with her than with your only daughter?”

Chairman Kang’s uncomfortable expression, which he tried to mask with a cough, seemed to go completely unnoticed by Su-ran.

“Instead of Fides, why don’t you just bring her straight into your bedroom?”

“Kang Su-ran!”

A single roar could not close a mouth that was already open. It had never been able to.

Even throughout the past nine years when everything had changed, she remained the only person in this house who never cared about others’ opinions.

“Or who knows—you might have done it already!”

Throughout it all, Chairman Kang continued responding with light coughs, paying no attention to the blatant glances cast his way.

Then everyone’s eyes shifted at once at the loud scrape of a chair being pushed back and froze.

“Ah, don’t mind it. Please continue with your meal.”

Though his tone was perfectly calm, the overwhelming pressure behind it was unmistakable as Tae-yul lifted his napkin to his mouth and spat out the food inside.

“Does this family eat shrimp with the shells on?”

Tae-yul raised his head boldly with a face full of clear displeasure, as if savoring the way all eyes had shifted from the chairman to him.

He furrowed his brow deeply, making his thick eyebrows stand out even more, then slowly folded the napkin and set it beside his plate before stretching out his long legs.

“Chief Jo.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“Escort Tae-yul to the study.”

“Even though I was kicked out and only just returned, I can still find the study on my own.”

After tossing out the barbed remark as if it meant nothing, Tae-yul left the dining room. Chief Jo’s gaze left his retreating back, and the chairman gave a subtle nod that it was fine.

“Look at him! Calling the legitimate heir who finally returned after nine years to the study, of all places!”

Tae-yul kept walking without pause until Su-ran’s shrill voice faded into the distance. As if storming out of his seat had never been about nonexistent shrimp shells, but some other purpose entirely.

Seol-hye had been on her way from the kitchen to Fides when she paused in front of a space tucked into one side of the living room.

It was a small area with a luxurious, elegant patterned tea table, a few books on a modest bookshelf, and walls on every side except for the citron-shaped entrance.

Drawn as if by an invisible thread, she turned her steps and stepped inside, staring intently toward the LP player that was still spinning.

The subtle, familiar melody flowing from it made her chest tighten before she could stop herself.

Of all songs, why did it have to be this one?

It was as if the eyes that had met hers when she turned away from the dining table moments ago were appearing in her vision once more.

That was why.

One night, for some unknown reason, the memory of a back figure lingering in front of the window at Amicus surfaced faintly.

It had seemed like there was something to say, yet she couldn’t bring herself to open the door and step out. Her own heart wounds were still too raw to hear frightening or painful words.

She was groping through a memory that held no real memories at all, all because of one song so faint she had never even carved it into her mind.

Only when a hand lifted and lowered the slowdown lever, bringing the LP record to a stop, did her focus return to the back that filled her sight.

His back remained utterly still, like the halted record—broader than the silhouette she remembered.

Perhaps that was why she was caught in a vague unconsciousness laced with an inexplicable sense of oppression.

“It might sound good to some people.”

The heavy voice, thick with discomfort, turned with a rough movement that nearly stole her breath.

“To me, it’s pretty fucking shitty.”

And then a gaze that seemed to despise her with searing intensity pierced straight into her.