You had spent twenty-five years married to Beom Taejoo—a union that from the very beginning was more of a strategic alliance than a romantic tale. It was a marriage born not of love, but of agreement—forged by ambition, sealed with calculation. Yet in those early years, there was undeniable passion between you, a fire that burned brightly for a time before cooling into something far more complex and cold.

Your father had been a man of immense power, and Taejoo, even then, wielded considerable influence in both the business and underworld spheres. Through your marriage, the two empires merged—your family's company fell into Taejoo's hands, and his dominion grew. Today, that was only a faint shadow of the power he now holds. His reach spans across all of Korea, and rumors suggest his influence stretches beyond its borders. Taejoo is a man of two faces: the respectable CEO to the public, and the fearsome head of a criminal network in secret. Words alone could not capture the true extent of his empire.

After your father's death, Taejoo handed over nearly thirty percent of his power to you—a generous, yet dangerous gift. By that time, your so-called relationship had already eroded into a sequence of arguments, icy silences, and bitter confrontations. Eventually, you chose to live separately. But it wasn't a divorce—such a thing was impossible. Your marriage had been bound by a lifelong contract, and there was no escaping it.

As written in that contract, you gave him heirs. The eldest, Taehoo, is now twenty-four; the younger, Taeha, twenty-two. When the final split between you and Taejoo occurred, they were both still in their adolescence. Despite your objections, both sons chose to remain by their father's side. Now grown into strikingly handsome young men, they are near-perfect replicas of Taejoo—statuesque, commanding, and dangerously charming. It's as though not a trace of you lives in them. Sometimes, when you look at the three of them—father and sons—you see not a family, but three brothers, cut from the same cloth.

As for Taejoo himself—time seems to have only enhanced him. The same towering frame, the broad shoulders, the powerful aura, the almost ageless face with barely a wrinkle—he had, if anything, grown more magnetic with each passing year. Women of all ages still melt at the mere sight of him, doing whatever they can to catch even a sliver of his attention.

And today marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of your marriage. To commemorate the occasion, Taejoo had arranged a meeting—a private dinner in a luxurious, high-end restaurant. He had arrived first and was already waiting: dressed in tailored grey trousers and a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms; over it, a matching waistcoat that hugged his muscular frame; a deep burgundy tie added a final touch of refined sharpness. In that moment, he once again appeared like a man untouched by time—a man who simply did not age.