"So why don't we set aside our differences and talk? From mistress to son."

Yoongi's eyes bulge. "The woman from the pictures... You're her?"

"I was." She grins. "Doesn't matter much now, does it? Considering your father is dead, I think the woman in the picture had a past to let go of."

The absurdity of the comment makes Yoongi huff. "So you lie to yourself, then? Just to make things feel better?"

"In a way, yes." Chaerin says, lighting a cigarette and spotting it to her lips. Through a foggy breath she continues. "There's a lot you don't know about the night he died."

"After living with the Madam long enough, you begin to doubt if the sirens or caution tape were real..."

She hums and puts out her cigar, leaning forward. She examines Yoongi's face intensely, grinning, "You really don't remember me do you?"

"All I remember were that woman's and my father's screaming matches."

"See, that's where you and I differ, Yoongi." Chaerin crosses her hands with delicate consideration. "I'm the only survivor who remembers the story of a foolish man and the woman who trapped him in her web."

The old man across the table slid the envelope across the table. Min Wonwoo flashed the tip open; cash, as expected.

"Take care of it quietly." The elderly CEO grumbled.

Wonwoo pounded his fist on the table, "Father," he began. What a disgusting turn of events. Here he is kissing this old man's heels, calling him by a special term of endearment, when he wanted nothing more than to throw this absent shadow of a human into the streets.

"Why should I pay for brother's mistakes?"

From the glint in his eye, it was clear the old man had snapped. "What!?  Haven't we've done enough for you? A good school, money, a good job... All for a boy who isn't my son."

Wonwoo scoffs. "Don't you think this is going too far?"

"Repay your debts to the hand that's fed you."

"So it's my fault that brother got mixed up with a fraud ring? That he blew the company finances on a pyramid scheme? Your old age must be making you go senile!"

The CEO exasperatedly cries out and slams his hands on the table. "You have a choice, Wonwoo. Take the prison sentence or marry that damn wench's daughter! I am not asking you." 

"Ruining me will only backfire on you old man. You can't touch me."

"No, but I have eyes everywhere. And your little lover... Chaerin was it?" He chuckles. "Well, accidents are easy enough to make."

"Don't you there-"

"Then take the damn sentence or marry, you useless bastard!"

Wonwoo flinches as the propelled envelope smacks his face. He grits his teeth in humiliation. He matches his blazing gaze with the smug elder's.

"If I marry her... Do you promise to leave Chaerin alone?"

"I lie about many things but business is not one of them."



"Nobody would blame you if you thought your grandfather lied." Chaerin says, "Heck, I didn't think he'd keep his word... So Wonwoo played the role of perfect son and married the hand-picked bride, Shin Yoonhae or as her adversaries called her, 'The Madam'."

"What about my mother?"

"Oh, her?" The afterthought makes Chaerin smile almost bittersweetly, "She came shortly after with you in her arms and said Wonwoo was the father. At first he denied it, said you were a 'mistake' from his college days. But in the face of a paternity test, he was defeated. Your parents agreed on shared custody at first, but when you mother's cancer became terminal- Well, I guess Wonwoo took pity and let her stay in the western wing." 

The bitter realization of her words blares through the walls of his trauma and like a whirlwind Yoongi's last lines of defense come tumbling down. He knew his childhood was messed up but not to this extent. Did his father, the one whose blood provided him a reason to live, ever truly love him? Or was his idol also tarnished with human greed? Was The Madame's jealousy and greed symptomatic of his father's?

"Your mother was a kind soul. She was the one who protected me from Yoonhae's antics to kick me out. She holds a special place in my heart." Chaerin sighs. "When she passed, I found her diary... I tried my best to respect her privacy, but something inside of me felt it was vital for me to read it."

Before Yoongi can speak, Chaerin reveals a beige journal from underneath the chair cushion and slides it gingerly across the table to Yoongi.

"Page 271." She says.

Yoongi brushes the dust off the cover and upon flipping through the pages, runs the edges of his fingertips through the grooves of the handwriting.

"Mom..." He crows.

P.271

I fear today might be one of my last but instead of being afraid, I feel peace. Perhaps its because I saw the sunrise this morning, or maybe because I mustered the strength to take a stroll through the gardens... I'm not sure. I've given my Yoongi all I could... But I fear my absence will leave him hollow.

I know I am not the person in Wonwoo's heart. I never was and in death I doubt I will be, but I can understand why. Chaerin is a lovely woman, and with her around, I think I can leave Yoongi in peace. She is precious to me, and I hope one day she can be precious to my son too.

A tear slips down Yoongi's cheek as he looks up at Chaerin, "She trusted you and you abandoned me! You betrayed her trust!"

"Things are not as simple as they seem."

Yoongi scoffs. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"The night of Wonwoo's death." She says with dangerous eyes. "You were not the only one who saw it all. Who do you think was the one who hid you after?"

Bitter nostalgia floods back.

A storm raged on outside. Between the thrashes of lightening and brusque wrath of thunder, little Yoongi covered his ears — not to conceal the storm raging outside his home, but to mask the one within. 

From the drawing room, Yoongi could feel the shrills rattle the walls. He recognized the gruff voices as his father's and The Madam's. When he told his father about how the Madam played his composed piece to guests without permission, he never imagined it would escalate this far.

"I don't care what your reasons are, Yoonhae! I accept Subin as my daughter, why can't you accept Yoongi as your son?"

"Subin is older than him, Wonwoo! Why can't she inherit?"

"BECAUSE YOONGI IS MY SON!"

"Oh and Subin isn't your daughter?! How long are you only going to call her yours when its convenient?  Will you continue pushing her aside just like you do to me in favour of that woman?"

Little Yoongi sneaks off towards the bedroom door and remains listless by the door frame, paralyzed by the scarlet anger discolouring his father's face. Wonwoo grabs The Madam firmly, nearly ripping her cardigan in the process, and seethes, "Don't you dare talk about Chaerin that way!"

The Madam laughs. "I can talk about that thing however I like Wonwoo! She's got everything and me, well- I have nothing."

"Oh, don't get all weepy about this! You knew it was a contract when you stepped into my arms."

There's an ugly look to The Madam's expression, eager to plunge verbal daggers, but equally sorrowful as a tear licks her cheek.

"When will you ever stop being selfish?! I am not trophy wife! I know well why you married me but is it really so hard to show a bit of affection?"

"Subin is not my blood, and she will never be!" Wonwoo hisses spitefully, glaring at his estranged wife. "If you took marriage proposals seriously, you wouldn't have warmed another man's bed."

"Don't be arrogant. I know who you who your whore is and-"

"And as long as I am your husband, you will not speak another word of it!"

A slap stiffens the air. Mortified as his father's hand falls from Yoonhae's face, Yoongi lets out a soft squeal and rushes to silence himself with a grubby palm - meanwhile, The Madam smooths over her cheek in disbelief. Her deep eyes fixate on the focus of her hatred.

A plush grin settles in as she whispers, "Did you ever once try to love me?"

A pained expression washes over Wonwoo but like any expert in the profession of business, he artfully stores it away into the coldness of his portrait-like ambivalence.

"How could I?" He asks. "There was never anything worth loving."

The Madam's voice falters, raw with the sting of rejection. "What's so different about us? What does she have that I don't?"

"My heart. That's your difference in caliber." Wonwoo fetches his blazer from the other side of the room and walks past the Madam as he flicks it on, murmuring mockingly, "Now play a good housewife and greet the guests downstairs after you doll yourself up, honey."

The Madam clenches her fist.

"No..." She whispers.

Wonwoo stops in his tracks.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'no' and until I'll keep saying it until I get it through your thick skull, Mr. Yoon."

He scoffs sternly. "Listen here, Yoonhae. If you want to ruin your own reputation, be my guest. But I will not let you sully the family name." He glances at his watch and rolls his shoulders back, glaring, "I expect you down in 10 minutes."

It's unclear how or why this is the snapping point out of the entire argument, but something in the last sentence does not bode well with the Madame  — that much little Yoongi can tell as a bystander.

"Fine." The word quivers in her mouth as  she reaches through her pants. A glint of light reflects off what appears to be silver. "Then you'll be late with me too."

Confused by the statement, Wonwoo pivots. By the time he had seen the exacto knife coming down on him, it was too late: the diagonal slash down his chest has opened him up like a zipperless sweater.  Blood flows through the white fabric of his dress shirt. Bewildered, he applies pressure to his abdomen and pulls his hand away, knowing it's a death sentence when the second strike comes down.

Little Yoongi, still behind the door, watches as the Madame continues her butchering, seven stabs piercing through the corpse before the deed is done.

When she finishes, The Madame retracts her knife from the ravaged ribs of her victim and runs her fingers down the blade, gathering enough blood to finish her rendition of a failed love: painting the smile of a man marred by a bloodbath.

Then she deposits the knife into her pants pockets.

Little Yoongi remains paralyzed by the shock of witnessing his father's murder.

The Madame however, remains unfazed and when exiting the room notices the shaken-up figure of her despised step son leaned against the wall just outside the door. She looks down on him like a bug, cold and unfeeling.

"So you saw." She concludes, crouching down next to the boy. When her bloodied fingers stroke his hair, Yoongi shivers. "Good. If you cause trouble, you'll be next."

The brutal truth and fear was enough to make him craft the lies.

"When the house guests found the body, the madame clutched onto me and cried and cried. I was still accepting that Dad was dead. I made the mistake of letting her get close to me, and when the police found the weapon in my pocket, I knew she had played me."

"Right." Chaerin leans back in her seat, "How many years was the sentence again?"

"2 years jail, plus 3 years therapy. The judge thought I was incapable, but the jury thought I was a guilty bastard."

"Ah yeah... And then CPS got involved."

"Well it didn't go anywhere." Yoongi mumbles bitterly, recalling the failure of the system. "I was sent back to live with the witch. She neglected me and Subin too, but later on Subin was brainwashed into thinking I was the one causing it instead of her mother." 

The thought makes Yoongi chuckle ironically.

"Maybe that's why she thought of me as a parasite."

A short silence mutes the tension like a damp curtain. Chaerin hesitates a bit before continuing, "I always thought about you, you know. I think it was guilt. I hated myself for not being able to get you in my out of that nightmare, but I also knew that there was no way the court would let me take you."

"So that's why you left?"

"Well," She squints uncomfortably. "Part of it. I tried finding you when you turned 18, after your record was clean, but I knew my family would be suspicious of someone who was pretty much a ghost in the systems."

Yoongi laughs a little in disbelief. "So you were a bystander..."

"No. I was waiting to strike." She asserts firmly. "That's why the day I saw you walk into the hotel, I felt hope again, knowing we could put that bitch into her grave. So I pulled some strings."

Confusion diffuses throughout Yoongi's face.

"I found Wonwoo's will when cleaning your room. It was too good to pass up. So I called her, pretended to be a lawyer, and told The Madame that her step-son was willing to discuss and exchange contents in the will."

"The company ownership..." Yoongi mutters in horror.

Chaerin relinquishes a cat-like smile, "She fell right into the trap. And I knew I would finally get my revenge."

"What about-"

"Y/N?" She chuckles. "She was a miscalculation. I never expected the her to fall in love with you."

A pain weaves throughout Yoongi's heart, shook up from the prospect that he was denying the one person who didn't use him for their own gain. "Then everything she said was... real?"

"As real as the roses I put in your hospital room. Sometimes passion blooms where you never expect it."

Then Chaerin rummages through her purse and fishes for her wallet, eventually retrieving a polaroid photo of the young couple embraced by a bonfire. She slips the print across the table and leaves it within his sight.

"Keep it." She sighs, standing up. "And make sure to shower before you see her."

A muffled sob escape Yoongi's lips as the door pitifully blocks the truth about his pitiful state — lost in the proof of a woman who's love he slowly begins to recall.