Candidate Kim Jung-Il, known as the country's most popular congressman and party leader, is rumored to hold the reins of his company still. Goryo Holdings, which has been handed over to his eldest and only son, Kim Taehyung, who has been running the company for more than four years, is now speculated to be a big theatrical play, and the real leader is well hidden behind the curtains. SBS Korea.

Is Kim Taehyung really the chairman and major shareholder of Goryo Holdings, or is he just a puppet whose strings are pulled by Kim Jung-Il? MBC Korea.

Kim Jung-Il is reportedly the largest shareholder of Goryo Holdings, overtaking his son, Chairman Kim Taehyung, raising questions about the transparency of his politics and overall work in the leading party." FORBES magazine.

The TV became a hindrance, so did the sounds, and every movement of any animate or inanimate object brought a sense of suffocation over Taehyung. Every word was supposed to bring him the kind of pleasure that only revenge could bring, and he wouldn't deny that it had indeed brought that too, but not only that. Taehyung felt insulted, reduced to nothingness not just by his father's harsh words and pointed index finger; he was insulted and pitied by the nation, a child in adults' game.

The tie flew open in seconds as he clutched the remote so tightly it would have choked if it had lungs, a cigarette lit between his fingers and nearly crumbled to ash before he could savor its tar, and a few buttons of his white dress shirt undone while his eyes followed the news without blinking, his mouth pinched shut and his brows drawn into a frown that deepened when he read the news briefs.

You did it; what he couldn't, you have done it. You checkmated his father, him too in the process, and he didn't know whether to appreciate your opera or despise you for it.

Jungkook made his way inside Taehyung's office with steady steps and confident breaths, hands filling his pockets, and tie as neat as ever, the scent of his cologne leaving traces of a decent man to be gossiped about. He sat down on the couch, and his presence went unnoticed by the owner of the office, who was still staring at the screen with the same furious eyes and furrowed eyebrows: "She's a top tier, isn't she now?"

"How did that happen?" Taehyung asked without turning around to acknowledge his friend with a glance, and the latter understood without needing further explanation.

"It's quite disturbing how the solution lay between our hands all these years and yet went unnoticed," Jungkook began, crossing one leg over the other as he began his explanation, "it's an insult to our intelligence, but still welcome if it means liberation, isn't it?"

"JUNGKOOK!" Taheyung's voice was loud and clear, a declaration that more than thoroughly described his condition, and if that wasn't enough, the thud of his palms on the oak surface of his desk cleared the way to clarify his words, "I do not need celebrations, I need, and I think I deserve explanations about the work you engaged in; so go ahead; I'm listening."

Yesterday wasn't so far away, and yet it was so different. He had left the company in a state of calm that was different from his state of mind, a state of steadiness divergent from the boiling emotions of a man forced to watch his companion, the person who bore his name before God and countless invitees, who pledged fidelity and loyalty to him, who promised before families and bishops on the holy trinity to be his until death do them part, become a part of another person's life without enduring all of the hindrances, just by sharing breaths and bodily fluids.

Yesterday wasn't that far, but today was closer. And the emotions that were forced to keep quiet yesterday resurfaced with the urge to avenge, and the rage of a tomorrow so indescribable arrived a second earlier, much sooner than expected: "I said, speak!"

Jungkook withdrew his hand, which had been grasping at the buttons of his vest, to undo them, seeking some comfort upon seating; his eyes focused on his friend, breaths ceased as he exhaled the last of his reserve with the words, "Isn't that what you wanted? His dismay?!"

"I did," Taehung slammed the desk angrily, the sound of his palms against the wood resonating in the room, "but in this play, the only one getting gnawed on and bitten, is me. Can't you see?"

And it wasn't false; as a matter of fact, it was the truth. Your actions were a sweet payback, you had reckoned. Would even go so far as to say that it was nothing compared to what you had endured, and if he knew of your thoughts, he would tell you that no one on this earth knows pain like he does.

Sure, it made you overjoyed to finally find a weakness in a colossal beast like Kim Jung-il. You had thought it impossible, but you were elated as you sifted through a pile of financial reports and documents that would have seemed futile if they hadn't been carefully hidden in your husband's safe. At that moment, you had resented him all the more for protecting the old man despite everything he had done. You had found every reason not to feel sorry for him after that, instead, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

You had started digging around a few days after your return from the cabine, having operated on your husband in conditions that could only be described as outrageous. It was ridiculous, downright inhuman, what the old man was prepared to take upon himself to keep his surroundings under his control. Tyrannical and sadistic, and nothing could justify it. Your curiosity was not satisfied, however, as you went from one dead end to another with no answers or explanations, and that's when you figured you could use some help.

At this point, no one knew that you had overheard the conversation in the cabine between the trio of Seokjin, Taehyung and Jungkook, but that changed when you realized that by showing your cards, you would see theirs in a better light. So a choice was made, and between the three of them, you chose the most hostile, the most vulnerable with a weak spot.

It was a gamble, really. You had no evidence to sustain your claims, other than a loud doubt and a heavy feeling in your guts. After all, Taehyung had made it loud and clear that it was Jungkook's fault that his father was trying to get rid of him, not to mention that a politician would only go that far if he had to cover for a huge scandal, a bloodstain between people of equal caliber.

In math, two plus two equals four, no doubt about it. And when Jungkook reached the place of your rendezvous, which was actually very familiar to both of you, hidden among the greenery of Incheon and the tall bamboo trees: the cabine. You showed him exactly that math does not lie; that lies don't survive to tell the tale.

"Who told you that? Was it him?"

"Does it even matter at this point? I'd say the order is a little out of place. Had I been in your shoes, I'd try my luck with an apology first and after that, would see about these kinds of vain questions, Jungkook."

"I don't see why I should owe you an apology, Doctor. I did what I did, and I have my reasons for doing it. After all, you have seen the guy, and you know exactly what a wanker he is."

"FOR EVERYTHING YOU CAUSED ME, JUNGKOOK. FOR EVERYTHING I HAVE LOST BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR FUCKED UP REASONS THAT MADE YOU ALMOST KILL A MAN."

Sometimes all that is needed is a show of anger. People often mistake this kind of shit for a display of character, of power, and as twisted as it may sound, they start showing respect, bow to the power, and kneel in front of it.

That night, you not only received an apology, you received a chance to learn the truth and a green pass to the game. That night you became a player, and as you sat in front of the chessboard, you moved your first pawn to capture the fortress and kill the king.

"And I'm sorry to tell you that your empty apology means absolutely nothing to me, Jungkook. So here are the terms that might make it seem more appealing: You will persuade your friend to let me in. I need to be inside and have access if you want me to help you with my silence. Otherwise, the recording of this wonderful encounter will reach every media outlet before it reaches the police, which I'm sure you have under your thumb."

Jungkook did indeed work quickly to embellish his apology. And within a few days, a delay you concluded was what was needed to convince your husband to come clean about what his beloved father had done to him and collude with you against him, you had what you asked for, and Lord, you had used it to full advantage.

The truths you had been given access to at your request, while you made it seem like it was their own choice, were ugly, to put it mildly. You hated this family as you hated yours, but you never thought you would hate Namjoon even more. He wasn't just a liar, a conspirator, he was a damn snitch, and you realized that was the trait you despised the most. Whatever had happened in the cabine and led you to become what you were, the ugly mistake and the even uglier solution were served to Kim Jung-il on a silver platter. Truths that were supposed to remain hidden, buried almost as deep as a coffin, were brought out of the dirt and moist soil, and to the old gazer, they were shown.

Namjoon wasn't one to disappear in silence. You had suspected that, but you never expected him to act upon his invasive thoughts and, much less, to have your father-in-law shake hands with him against his own son. But it seems that your dear friend has a way of telling stories that makes everything even juicier and makes it hard to get bored, close the book and forget about it.

But that was that, and sure, you felt diverged emotions hearing the story straight from the mouth of the affected person, but it ended there. With pity, no more. The need for payback was still present, and above all, the need to break free.

To regain your life.

So yes, you had no remorse whatsoever when you went over the plan with Jungkook and told him that sending the reports to the press and exposing Jung-il's embezzlements and power plays for all the world to see was the only way to shut him up and keep the secrets hidden. And even when he showed hesitancy, you took it upon yourself to motivate him by reminding him of his position, of the hard work he did but still went unnoticed and unappreciated, and of how much more he deserved and could have if only the obstacle disappeared. And at last, when he realized that you wouldn't take no for an answer and that in your hand was his leash, with his voice sparking through your phone's speaker, he agreed.

Honestly, Jungkook wouldn't have been against it if he hadn't seen how badly it would affect his friend. He may have wanted Jung-il to disappear more than you did, but not by dragging Taehyung along. But after studying the plan carefully, he came to the conclusion that being chewed up by the press wasn't so bad if it meant a promising future. A sacrifice for the greater good.

"Oh please," Jungkook began with a scoff, "don't start whining, Taehyung, and look at the big picture. You have finally made it; what are a few press words and crappy headlines against what you are going to win, huh?"

Taehyung failed to formulate a retort because the anger was far greater than he could have expressed in the form of pitty words , which would have failed miserably in interpreting the tremendous weight of such an emotion. He watched intently as Jungkook lit a cigarette and gestured around the television: "Look at this. Is there a single headline that blames you or accuses you of anything? No. They're all talking about your father's hypocrisy and deceit."

And the gestures never ceased, just like the mockery, and as he kept inhaling and exhaling the tar of the white stick until it met its demise, Taehyung didn't take his eyes off the man who seemed so happy for such a gloomy day that only brought him shame. The laughter grew louder, and the louder it got, the louder the ringing in Taehyung's ears became, making it almost impossible to hear the words his friend uttered, "I bet he will end up on the news tomorrow in a wheelchair in front of the DA's office. Will bet my profit for a year on that one."

"How are you any different from Namjoon?" It wasn't a question but rather a statement he wanted to share in a moment of utter disappointment. Taehyung didn't need a retort to be delivered; the look on Jungkook's face was more than enough of an answer, and as silence prevailed, he stood up and took his vest off the chair without bothering to put it on, and as he walked to the door without turning around, Jungkook remained frozen in the same position like a petrified vulture.

"Glad you're still here. We need to talk, Kim."

Taehyung didn't know what to make of your presence outside his office door at this exact moment, but he was damn sure that the universe and the stars were undoubtedly against him. He would have avoided you, would have even booked a hotel room just to feast his eyes on the absence of your presence, to keep his nose from smelling the scent of his employee that you seemed to carry around like your own perfume, to forget your image beneath his lawyer and within his embrace, hair stretched out on the sofa and legs crossed over his waist. Yes, he would get away from you for all those reasons he couldn't share, but it appears he's finally found the good one to blame you for.

"Talk? After what?" His eyes were rigid, the midnight curls not hiding the loathing that rose in his gaze, but his strides were confident, taken with intent as he slowly closed the distance between you, capturing your faltering breath in the progress. "You gathered them one by one, like poor pawns, molding each to your liking," and as his forefinger pressed on your chest to emphasize his words, your heartbeat quickened, and something you never thought you'd feel for him attacked you with full vigor. "Polished them into perfect Trojan horses, and now you want to talk? Such a shame. I don't wanna have anything to do with you anymore, Doctor. Nothing at all."