Chapter 6 - The Frozen AccountsMin-jae lost all color in his face. He gripped the edges of the mahogany table so hard his knuckles turned stark white.
“Denied?!” Min-jae shrieked, his voice cracking as his professional composure completely shattered. “You can’t deny my credit line! I am a lead developer! Who do you think you are answering to—some ghost?!”
“Not a ghost, Mr. Seo,” a calm, melodic voice echoed from the private executive elevator foyer behind the boardroom.
The frosted glass doors slid open automatically.
I stepped into the boardroom.
I wore a tailored white Chanel pantsuit, dark sunglasses framing my face, and a diamond-encrusted platinum watch that alone cost more than Min-jae’s luxury car. My hair was pulled back into a sleek, flawless chignon. I didn't look like the quiet, submissive wife who had been thrown into the rain forty-eight hours ago.
I looked like an empress.
The entire boardroom fell into a state of absolute, terrified silence.
Min-jae stared at me as if I were a phantom risen from the dead. His jaw dropped, his lips parting without a single sound escaping.
“S-Seo-yeon?” he stammered, taking an involuntary step backward, nearly tripping over his chair. “What... what are you doing here? How did you get in this building? Security! Throw her out—!”
“Sit down, Min-jae,” I commanded softly.
The two private security guards immediately stepped forward, placing their heavy hands on Min-jae’s shoulders and forcing him back down into his seat with unyielding physical authority.
“You... you’re wearing...” Min-jae pointed a shaking finger at my suit, his eyes wide with horror as the reality began to violently dawn on him. “That watch... that suit... where did you get money for that? Who are you?!”
I walked slowly down the length of the boardroom, my heels clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, until I reached the head of the table. I brushed past him, placed my hand gently on the chairman’s leather seat, and sat down.
“For seven years, Min-jae, you told everyone you built your empire from nothing,” I said, my voice cutting through the silent room like a razor blade. “You laughed when your mother called me a charity case. You threw my suitcase into the rain because you genuinely believed I was entirely dependent on your mercy.”
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I turned my head, locking my eyes onto his terrified gaze.
“You forgot one fundamental rule of business, husband,” I whispered coldly. “Never mistake a partner’s voluntary silence for weakness.”
