Kang Tae-hyun paced in his office, a scowl etched across his face. Four years of silence from Min-jae, four years of unanswered questions and simmering frustration. The private investigators he had hired had been working tirelessly, but the progress was slow—until now. This morning, they had delivered a file to his desk, thick with documents, photos, and reports. Tae-hyun wasn't prepared for what he found.
At first, he had expected the worst—proof that his son was wasting away in obscurity, drowning in indulgence and failure. But what he saw in that file shocked him to his core.
Min-jae had not only survived; he had thrived.
The first revelation was his academic achievements. His spoiled, lazy son, who had barely scraped by during his undergraduate years, had gone on to not only complete an MBA at Harvard but also a PhD in economics—and both in record time. The investigators noted his impressive GPA, his professors' glowing recommendations, and the groundbreaking research he had produced during his doctorate.
Then there was his career. Tae-hyun's eyes widened when he read the details of Min-jae's job at Goldman Sachs. He was not just employed—he was excelling, managing multi-million-dollar portfolios, earning accolades for his strategic insights, and outshining seasoned professionals. His reputation within the firm was stellar, and he was already being eyed for leadership roles.
But it didn't stop there. The report detailed how Min-jae had been supporting himself with multiple part-time jobs during his studies. Even now, despite earning a substantial salary at Goldman Sachs, he continued working odd jobs. The investigators speculated it was a habit born from discipline or perhaps an obsessive need to keep himself busy. Whatever the reason, it painted a picture of a man unrecognizable from the son Tae-hyun remembered.
And then there were the photos.
Tae-hyun stared at them, unable to believe his eyes. The man in the pictures was lean, sharp, and impossibly polished. His once bloated and unkempt appearance was replaced by someone who exuded authority and focus. He carried himself with a confidence that wasn't arrogant but deeply self-assured. His jawline was sharp, his eyes piercing, and his expression cold and unreadable.
Tae-hyun had to sit down. This wasn't the son he remembered. What had happened to Min-jae in those four years to transform him so completely? And why had he hidden it all from his family?
The last revelation, however, was the hardest blow. Min-jae had renounced his South Korean citizenship and become an American citizen. Tae-hyun's grip on the file tightened as anger and disbelief coursed through him. His son had not only left the family behind—he had severed all ties to his heritage, his legacy, his name. This was no rebellious phase. This was betrayal.
Fueled by a mixture of shock, fury, and an odd sense of begrudging pride, Tae-hyun made a decision. He wasn't going to let his son throw everything away. Min-jae was his heir, whether he liked it or not, and Tae-hyun would drag him back home if he had to.