I. The Pressure Point in Seoul
Kim Taehyung had been gone for only four hours, but the corporate world, smelling weakness, moved with the speed of a hungry shark.
Bae Ha-eun, alone in the Chairman's war room, was monitoring the sealed communication line when a mandatory, unskippable emergency shareholder meeting was called for the following morning. The summons was signed by the former Head of Audit, Director Kang—a man known for his rigid, anti-corruption stance and, more importantly, his loyalty to the old guard who resented Ha-eun's family.
The Accusation: Director Kang's meeting request cited "gross negligence and unauthorized foreign expenditures" related to the freeze on the White Stone Trust assets. This was a direct, calculated attack designed to paint Taehyung's aggressive maneuver in Geneva as reckless and potentially illegal, paving the way for a vote of no confidence.
Ha-eun gripped the edge of the desk, her corporate mind snapping into action. She was still a ghost, unable to attend, and Taehyung was incommunicado, hunting Seok-jin. She had 12 hours to neutralize the threat.
I have to maintain the illusion of the Chairman's control, she thought. They must believe he is directing this fight.
She ordered Joon's trusted second-in-command to leak a pre-dated, highly complex financial forecast to a few key financial reporters. The forecast projected a massive, imminent dividend increase, directly correlating with the White Stone Trust freeze. Her message was subtle but effective: The Chairman knows exactly what he's doing, and his actions are already generating profit. It was a bold bluff, leveraging investor greed against corporate loyalty.
II. Flashback: The Spoiled Architect (One Month Ago)
The high-stakes strategy session brought Ha-eun's mind back to the quiet moments she had shared with the Chairman, the time she spent as the 'amnesiac artist,' which now felt like a lifetime ago.
One afternoon, Min-soo (Ha-eun) had been obsessing over a particular shade of blue for her painting—a blue she vaguely remembered from the temple sky. She had tried mixing colors all day and failed, throwing her paintbrushes down in frustration.
Taehyung's Spoiling: Taehyung had returned that evening, cold and silent as always. He found her sulking on the floor. Instead of lecturing her, he went to his private safe and retrieved a single, antique Qing Dynasty porcelain bowl.
"You're using the wrong medium," he had said, placing the priceless artifact in her hands. "The true 'temple blue' isn't pigment; it's the glaze."
He didn't give her the bowl; he let her hold it, study the ancient, subtle hue, and then meticulously sketched the exact color formula on a piece of paper, commissioning a famous craftsman to replicate the paint precisely.
The Cute Moment: When Ha-eun protested that the bowl was priceless, Taehyung simply shrugged. "It's ugly. But if studying it makes your miserable painting look less miserable, the expense is justified." He always dismissed the act of spoiling with a cold, corporate reason, making the gesture even more heartfelt.
III. Flashback: The Tiny Demands
Their dynamic wasn't always about grand gestures; it was often about tiny, secret acknowledgments of her recovery and her true self.
Ha-eun, when she was 'Min-soo,' had a quirk: she hated the expensive, heavy, tailored silk pajamas Taehyung's staff laid out. She missed the comfort of a simple, oversized cotton tee.
The Tiny Demand: One night, she had left a silly, childlike note on his mirror: "The Chairman's shirts are too stiff. I demand softer nightwear."
Taehyung's Response: He never mentioned the note. The next day, the staff had mysteriously stocked her drawers with six perfectly soft, oversized, white cotton T-shirts—each one bearing the subtly embroidered, tiny initial 'T'. He was spoiling her, but ensuring she was the only one who knew.
The Cute Couple Vibe: He would often find her sketching late at night. If she complained her back hurt, he wouldn't offer a hug or a kind word. Instead, the next morning, her cheap wooden stool would be replaced by a custom-designed, ergonomically perfect artist's chair that cost more than a small car, delivered before dawn with no explanation. He spoiled her needs before she could even articulate them, maintaining his cold front while satisfying the Vow to protect and cherish her.
IV. The Strategic Counter
The memory of the perfect chair hardened Ha-eun's resolve. Taehyung was fighting for the Vow; she had to fight for his throne.
Ha-eun sent an anonymous, encrypted message to Director Kang: "The Chairman is aware of your moves. The audit you plan to invoke is outdated. I suggest you look at the offshore accounts of your son's university tuition before you call for negligence. The Chairman never leaves a loose end."
This was pure bluff, leveraging the chaos Seok-jin had created months ago. Director Kang, rigid and risk-averse, would panic at the implication of a linked scandal. Ha-eun didn't need to defeat him; she just needed to delay him.
The war was raging on two fronts: Taehyung was hunting the Architect in the French Alps, and Ha-eun was holding the fortress against the corporate wolves in Seoul, the weight of their unspoken, spoiled moments her only fuel.