The next day, in the early hours of a snowy Monday morning, the private pool of the Won Group Family estate stood in stark contrast to the frozen world outside. The water steamed gently, protected by glass and warmth, as Jen Heo Won cut through it with methodical strokes. Her morning routine remained unshaken, even as Seoul was blanketed in white.
Jen emerged from the pool, droplets cascading down her toned figure clad in a plain black swimsuit adorned with modest white polka dots. Her assistant, Gon Jun San, approached dutifully and handed her a towel.
"Thanks," she said, wiping the water from her face as her hair clung to her back. "Any changes to my schedule?"
"Nothing major," Gon Jun San replied, tapping swiftly on his tablet. "Except—"
Jen raised an eyebrow.
"—the internal election. It's officially set for the end of this year."
She nodded slowly, stepping into the locker room as Gon Jun San followed discreetly. Steam fogged the mirrors as she peeled off her swimsuit and slipped into the shower.
"How's the back of your head?" she asked, voice echoing off the tile.
"Honestly?" Gon Jun San touched the bandaged patch behind his head, grimacing. "I'm surprised Mr. Wolf had that kind of strength. As a former boxer, it's... embarrassing."
"Have you found anything? Anything at all? Is Shan Wolf a fighter? Boxer? Karate? Street brawler?" Jen's voice sharpened.
He shook his head solemnly. "Not a trace. No school sports. No underground fights. No legal bouts. No trainers, no witnesses. It's like he doesn't exist. A ghost fighter."
Jen exhaled sharply, irritation flaring in her eyes. "Tch. I'm still pissed about what he did at the bar."
She finished her shower, slipped into a tailored suit, and stepped into the pristine white company car. Gon Jun San joined her, sitting across in the rear-facing seat as the vehicle cruised through Seoul's bustling streets.
"The election. Fill me in."
"Yes, ma'am." Gon Jun San activated the files on his tablet. "There are twenty votes in total. Five from the department Head Managers, four from the Executive Directors, ten from the Board of Directors—"
Jen interrupted, lips curling. "And let me guess... my father. Eh San Won."
"Correct. But... two Head Managers and two Executive Directors are unlikely to support you unless something drastic happens."
"Tsk. And the Board?"
"Five of them are potential risks. Their resentment toward the Chairman may influence their vote."
Jen took the tablet and tossed it lazily to the seat beside her. "Pathetic. My family's full of cowards when it matters most."
She turned to the window, watching the towering skyline glide by. "That means we need to secure the remaining four votes. No big deal. We'll deal with them... one by one."
Her voice lowered, almost as if talking to herself. "I wonder what that bitch is doing right now."
---
Ingrid.
The IR Department was its usual chaos—investment calls buzzing, stocks fluctuating in real-time, analysts moving in controlled panic. Inside her glass-paneled office, Ingrid sat slouched in her chair, her fingers brushing the edge of a small framed photograph on her desk: her daughter, Kim Yeon, at the age of seven.
"When was the last time I even took a photo with her...?" she murmured.
Her expression darkened. The guilt was still fresh—missing her daughter's birthday on New Year's Eve, buried in work and tangled in this toxic web of office power games.
"Something on your mind?"
Ingrid flinched slightly and looked up. Shan stood in front of her desk, file folder in hand.
"No. Nothing. Why are you here?" she asked sternly, eyes flicking back to her screen.
"Got some files that need your signature—stock and trading analysis reports."
"Put them on the desk, Mr. Wolf."
Shan obeyed, hesitating a moment. "Look... I know it's none of my business. Especially after yesterday. But... do you wanna talk about it?"
Her hands paused on the keyboard. She looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Are you an idiot?"
"Eh?"
"One, I don't trust you—not when I still need to make sure the Vice President goes down. Two, I don't like you that much. And three—" her eyes narrowed, "—you're still holding that damn video over my head. Blackmailing me, you bastard."
Shan put a hand to his chest with mock hurt. "Damn, woman. That's cold."
"I'm not in the mood for sex or sentiment. Get back to work."
With a shrug, Shan turned and left. "Okay... I'm out."
As he passed his own desk, he muttered under his breath, "Sigh... woman."
"Amen to that, bro."
Shan turned to see a young man—Jhon, recently transferred to the Sales Department from the U.S.
"Gotta say, she's smokin'. I mean—look at that cake. And those knockers! Who can say no to that?"
Shan gave him a flat stare. "You're in Sales. She's IR. That's a big gap. Plus, she's got a kid."
"More the merrier." Jhon grinned. "How old is she?"
Shan raised an eyebrow. "What are you, a pedo?"
"Uhh... bye!" Jhon zipped out of the department.
"Tch. Dumbass," Shan muttered.
Behind the office curtains, Ingrid had watched the exchange. A soft smirk curled her lips.
"He's funny. And sometimes fun to tease," she murmured.
Her hand drifted lower, brushing along her thigh, tracing the curve of her fold.
"But there's something about him... a vibe. Possessive, dangerous..."
She stopped herself, recoiling from the thought.
"What the hell am I doing?"
The guilt returned like a wave. The birthday. The loneliness. Was it guilt or lust?
"Damn it," she hissed, forcing herself back to work.
---
Elsewhere, Shan's phone buzzed.
"Huh?" He answered. "Jin Mei? What's up?"
"Hey, Shan... do you have some time?"
"Time? Time for what?"
There was a pause.
"I just... I need someone to talk to. Someone I trust. And a good listener."
Shan's tone shifted. "Time and location."
She gave him the name of a nearby hotpot restaurant.
"Alright, wait in the lobby. I'll pick you up."
"Thanks," she said softly, ending the call.
Shan frowned, sensing something off. The usual flirty, vibrant tone in her voice was gone—replaced by something quieter. Sadder.
"Mr. Wolf?"
He turned to see Mei Yoo Jun approaching with more reports.
"Here are the documents that need reviewing."
"Thanks, Ms. Jun." He accepted them. But before she could turn away—
"Hey, Yoo Jun. What do women like these days?"
She blinked, startled. "Huh? Um... you mean, in general?"
He chuckled. "Items. Not... that."
Relieved, she smiled awkwardly. "Ah, right... maybe... sexy lingerie?"
His right eye twitched. "Lingerie?"
"Well... just an idea. Since... maybe you're buying it for someone special..."
Her mind wandered to that night—the car, Rae Yoorin, Shan, her pretending to sleep.
"I see. Thanks," Shan said.
As she walked away, a mischievous chuckle escaped her lips. "Fufufu... wonder what kind he'll buy."
Shan sighed. "No way in hell I'm buying lingerie for Sae Jin Mei."
---
Chapter 33 — End