Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Ye Jun

I woke up that morning feeling like I’d won the lottery without buying a ticket, alarm blaring some annoying upbeat song I usually hated but today it was my victory anthem, rolling out of bed grinning like an idiot, already picturing the look on everyone’s faces when I pulled up in the new car Dad had surprised me with the night before.

A sleek black Mercedes, not the Tesla I’d been dreaming about yet but holy shit close enough, keys handed over with a gruff “Don’t scratch it, director,” and Mom tearing up like I’d just graduated college all over again. I showered fast, threw on the new suit I’d bought on a whim navy, fitted, made me look like I actually belonged in the C-suite instead of fetching coffee and checked myself in the mirror, hair slicked back, smirking because damn, I looked good, like someone who deserved managing director, not the guy Si-woo had been stepping on for days .

Downstairs Mom was already fussing, packing me a lunch like I was still in elementary school, “You need energy for your big first day, baby, don’t let anyone push you around,” and I hugged her tight, laughing, “Mom, I’m the one pushing now, relax, I got this.” Dad was at the table reading reports, glanced up once, nodded once, “Drive safe. Show them what you’re made of.” Si-woo was there too, leaning against the counter with his coffee, eyes flicking over me slowly , that smirk barely hidden, “Nice suit, director. Hope it doesn’t get ruined on day one.” I shot him a grin, all teeth, “Thanks, vice chairman. Hope your day doesn’t suck as much as usual.” Mom swatted my arm, “Boys, behave,” but Dad just snorted, so I grabbed the keys, kissed her cheek, and bounced out the door like I owned the world.

The drive to work was pure bliss, windows down, music loud, me singing off-key because who cared, I was managing director Ye Jun now, baby. Pulled into the executive lot, my spot now reserved, shiny plaque and everything and heads turned the second I stepped out, car gleaming, me strutting like I hadn’t just been the office errand boy two weeks ago. People whispered, I caught snippets “That’s him? Already?” “cheating much?” but I didn’t care, waved at a couple familiar faces, “Morning, team! Let’s crush it today!” They smiled back awkwardly, some genuine, most suspicious, and yeah, I knew what they were thinking: hated by the vice chairman, suddenly the director? Must be some shady deal. But fuck ’em, I earned this, or at least Dad thought so, and that’s what mattered.

First thing, HR had the announcement ready, company-wide email blast, my name in bold, Managing Director Ye Jun , effective immediately, overseeing project development and strategy. I walked into the open-plan floor and half the room went quiet, then fake-clapped, a few “Congrats!” thrown my way, but the side-eyes were loud. One guy I used to grab coffee for muttered to his buddy, “What, few weeks in and he’s running shit now? Must be nice having connections.” I pretended not to hear, set up in my new office glass walls, view of the city, actual desk instead of a corner cubicle and started calling people in for quick one-on-ones, trying to sound professional, “Looking forward to working with you, let’s align on goals,” all that crap I’d practiced in the mirror. Most nodded politely, a few even seemed excited, but the vibe was off, like everyone was waiting for me to trip.

Si-woo showed up around noon, leaned in my doorway arms crossed, “Settling in, director?” I leaned back in my chair, feet up on the desk because why not, “Yeah, it’s great. Thanks for the warm welcome.” He stepped inside, shut the door, voice low, “One thing before you get too comfortable. Our… family connection? Stays quiet. No one needs to know you’re my stepbrother. Makes the nepotism talk worse, and I don’t need people thinking I went easy on you.” I laughed, sharp, “Easy? You hate me, everyone knows that. If anything, they’re wondering why you didn’t block it.” His jaw ticked, but he smiled, thin, “Exactly. So keep your mouth shut about us. No ’hey, bro’ in the halls. Professional distance. Got it?” “Got it, vice chairman,” I said, saluting mockingly, “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” He stared a second longer, then left without another word, door clicking shut.

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