Chapter 52.1

Chapter 52.1

Goyo took out her phone and carefully tapped the numbers written on the business card, one by one. When she pressed “Save,” the new number was added to her contacts.

There were only two numbers saved in her phone.

[♡Oppa♡]

[CEO Park Seohwa]

Seeing those two entries side by side left her feeling bitter. They were people who lived in worlds so different from hers.

Oppa and CEO Park… they somehow suit each other.

She recalled the image of the two sitting together at the Taehan Hotel café. With Park Seohwa’s sophisticated, urban look, she and Kwon Jaeheon made a striking pair.

“…?”

‘Wait—did I just call him “oppa”?’

Goyo froze for a moment.

This was the danger of conditioning. After hearing Jaeheon repeat that word so often, she had unconsciously started using it too.

She quickly hit the edit button and erased the “♡Oppa♡” contact name. She started typing “Kwon Jaeheon” but hesitated. Then one of his remarks came to mind.

“Even being called a bastard suits me.”

It popped into her head out of nowhere.

Lee Goyo is the mutt. Kwon Jaeheon is the bastard. That’s why they joked about being a messed-up family line.

So when she saved his contact as “Bastard,” it was an impulsive choice—nothing more.

December 31, 2:40 p.m.

Congressman Lee Yi-taek’s office

Bzzzt—

Jaeheon’s phone vibrated with a soft buzz.

[CEO Park Seohwa and Ms. Goyo have met.]

[They are having coffee and conversing.]

It was a message from the security guard assigned to watch Goyo. A photo soon followed, showing the two women sitting together at a café.

“Tch. Already attracting flies. Can’t take my eyes off her for a second.”

Jae-heon furrowed his brow deeply and pulled a foldable flip phone out of his pocket. It was what he called the “twin phone,” a cloned copy of Goyo’s phone that he had prepared in advance. He had even installed apps capable of hacking, allowing him to check not just her texts and call history, but also the photos and contacts saved on her phone.

“What could Ms. Park be interested in?” he muttered, fiddling with the newly retrieved phone.

“How rude. When you’re in a conversation…” Lee Yi-taek let out a dry chuckle as he watched Jae-heon pull out not one, but two phones.

Of course, a shady bastard would carry around multiple phones. While it was understandable for a businessman, his constant distractions during their conversation made it increasingly hard to tolerate.

No one had ever behaved so rudely in front of him before. People usually bowed low and catered to his every word.

But Jae-heon paid Yi-taek no mind and just kept staring at the phone. Then suddenly, he let out a dry laugh.

“Well, damn. ‘Son of a bitch,’ huh…”

“Director Kwon, are you even interested in having a conversation with me?”

“Congressman, we don’t have time. It’s been delayed long enough for Oppa to turn into a son of a bitch.”

Jae-heon cut Yi-taek off mid-sentence. He’d had more than enough lectures from his own father.

“Let’s stop dancing around.”

It was time to get to the point.

After all, there was only one thing Lee Yi-taek wanted. His ultimate goal was to become head of the administration. And to reach that seat, he needed money—untraceable money from Kwon Moo-young.

“I’ll get straight to the point.”

There was no need to beat around the bush when the objective was so clear.

“You don’t want to be called Congressman. You want to be called Mr. President, don’t you?”

Jae-heon slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“If I can secure you victory in the party’s presidential primary, will that be enough?”

He’d already entertained enough nonsense and lies. Further wordplay would be a waste of time. What other reason could Lee Yi-taek possibly have for pushing Goyo into his bedroom so hastily?

The presidential election—where he would need to pour money into a bottomless pit—was just a year away. And before that, there was the party’s primary. When it came to election funds and slush money, no one in South Korea was more of an expert than Kwon Jae-heon.

“Are you aware that your father is backing Speaker Han instead of me?”

Now that the real discussion had begun, Yi-taek lifted the coffee cup, now cold, to his lips and let the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Isn’t that precisely why you reached out to me instead of my father?”

The ruling party, which Yi-taek belonged to, already had a strong presidential contender. National Assembly Speaker Han Sung-jin, backed by Kwon Moo-young, came from a prestigious political family that had even produced a Prime Minister.

His son, Han Yoon-woo, had earned a seat in the National Assembly in his 30s. It was obvious that, compared to former prosecutor Lee Yi-taek, they held a more favorable position.

To beat Speaker Han in the primary race, Lee Yi-taek needed Kwon Jae-heon. Rather than Kwon Moo-young, who had become a toothless tiger relegated to the sidelines, it seemed Kwon Jae-heon—who had newly taken the throne—would be of greater help.

Kwon Jae-heon had inherited the business of Kwon Moo-young, a major figure in the private loan industry, and transformed most of it into a legitimate enterprise. That didn’t mean its essence had changed, but it looked respectable enough to be considered a decent business by anyone.

“I’ll lay out a flower path all the way to the presidential office for you.”

“Flower path” sounded nice, but in truth, it was a path paved with money.