* * *
The sight of his mother in prison attire revealed the sheer toll of the prolonged trial that had stretched for one year and eight months.
Jungjin personally visited the prison to see his mother for what would likely be the last time.
Through a transparent wall, Jungjin parted his lips, his voice void of emotion.
“Jungwoo and Jungseo said they didn’t want to see you, so I came alone.”
“…I see.”
“Even your family on your side won’t be helping you anymore. Whether you use a court-appointed attorney or hire a private one, do as you please. Not that it’ll reduce your sentence anyway.”
Jungjin’s words were grounded in fact. Madam Jang had received a 25-year prison sentence in the first trial.
Despite emphasizing diminished mental capacity during the appeal, her sentence had only increased to 32 years.
“Even if you take it to the Supreme Court, you’ll never leave that place for the rest of your life. It’s unfortunate that things have ended like this for you, too.”
After the investigation into her escape turned into a case for arrest, Madam Jang had fled, only to cause a collision with a car carrying Jungin.
Fortunately, the car carrying the bodyguards intercepted hers, preventing a second crash.
However, both Beomhyeon and Jungin, whom he had desperately tried to save, sustained severe injuries and required surgeries lasting over 20 hours.
Both of them teetered on the brink of death multiple times during that ordeal.
In Jungin’s case, the bleeding wouldn’t stop, necessitating an emergency transfusion.
His small body took in six units of blood, leading to complications that left him fighting for his life throughout the night.
While Beomhyeon, with the extraordinary resilience of a dominant alpha, eventually recovered, Jungin remained unconscious, even after two winters had passed.
The memory of this hardened Jungjin’s jaw as he thought about it.
“You really think that kid is so special? Was it worth bringing your parents down to this?”
His mother must have heard about the child’s condition during the trial.
Yet, her complete lack of remorse twisted Jungjin’s tightly shut mouth into a bitter line.
“What’s so lovable about that child of a woman like her? Why do you defend him? What’s so great about him that you’d betray the one who bore you? I should have never brought him into our home. When I learned that woman had a child, I should’ve just killed them both!”
Her words snapped the last thread of Jungjin’s self-restraint.
Any lingering sympathy he had for his mother vanished as he stared at her with icy eyes.
“Did you really not know? You knew everything, didn’t you?”
His father, who had no interest in business and was always entangled in gambling and infidelity, had eventually preyed on even those within their home.
“Jungin’s biological mother, Shin Haegyeong. She was forced by him, wasn’t she? My father dragged her into a room against her will and violated her! That wasn’t an affair—it was rape!”
Jungjin’s memories were crystal clear of the day Jungin first entered their home, a terrified nine-year-old, led by the secretaries.
At an age when he should have been loved and nurtured, Jungin had his mother taken from him and was left to face loneliness—a result of the greed of Jungjin’s parents.
“Shin Haegyeong wasn’t at fault. And neither was Jungin for being born!”
At first, he pitied his mother.
She had always craved his father’s love, shackled by an unreciprocated obsession.
Eventually, she was even betrayed by the only brother she had leaned on, so he understood why she might have lost her sanity.
For that reason, while protecting Jungin, he couldn’t bring himself to resent her—until he discovered that she had known the truth all along, yet chose to project all her anger and hatred onto Jungin’s mother and torment the child.
“You knew everything, yet you vented your rage on a defenseless child. That was anything but mature.”
Each time Jungjin spoke, his mother’s face turned paler.
With her head bowed and her hands clasped tightly together, she began to tremble, pulling at her hair in frustration.
“Take care of yourself. I mean it. I want you to fully pay for all the sins you’ve committed.”
Breaking his gaze away from his mother, Jungjin clenched his eyes shut, then opened them again, addressing her one final time.
“And… if you feel even the slightest guilt toward that child, then at least pray for Jungin to wake up.”
As Jungjin left the visitation room and got into his car, he let out a long, deep sigh.
This was the end.
His mother would spend the rest of her life in prison.
His father, stripped of everything and cast out, now led a miserable existence.
And yet, Jungin…
On the drive to the hospital, Jungjin felt as though he might burst into tears.
By the time he reached the all-too-familiar hospital room, he spotted someone already there and bowed his head.
“You’re here.”
“Yes. How have you been, Chairman Ki?”
“I’m well. I heard you’ve been very busy lately, Executive Director Lee—no, I suppose it’s Chairman Lee now. You should have taken the evening off to rest.”
“No, it’s my duty to be here.”
Nearly two years had passed since the accident.
Although Beomhyeon had managed to avoid a direct collision by steering sharply, the speed of the oncoming vehicle had left both of them gravely injured.
If not for Beomhyeon’s dominant alpha constitution, his life might not have been saved.
“How is Beomhyeon doing? He doesn’t mention any pain to us.”
“He’s fine. He’s a dominant alpha. Don’t worry about him and focus on Jungin’s recovery.”
Though Chairman Ki spoke with a faint smile, his heart must have been in turmoil.
To think that they had imprinted during the accident—and it was a one-sided imprinting by Beomhyeon at that.
As Jungin wavered between life and death, Beomhyeon’s condition deteriorated as well.
A shaman who had visited the hospital mentioned that Beomhyeon was forcibly holding on to Jungin’s soul. Without him, Jungin might not have survived.
“Jungin… Is he still unresponsive?”
“…Yes. They say he will improve, so we must hold on to that hope.”
Both Jungjin and Chairman Ki were acutely aware of Jungin’s dire condition, even though more than a year had passed without any sign of improvement.
Through the large glass wall, Jungjin looked at Beomhyeon, asleep on the bed next to Jungin’s. He let out a quiet sigh.
For those who had imprinted, the pheromones of their partner were vital.
Yet with Jungin in a coma, Beomhyeon could only absorb them indirectly during Jungin’s heat cycle.
“What happened with your mother?”
“She’ll be sentenced to at least 30 years.”
Thirty years later, Madam Jang would be nearing the age of ninety.
Perhaps she would spend the last days of her life alone in a prison cell.
“I see…”
Bumgyun, lost in thought, nodded and patted Jungjin on the shoulder.
Despite all the preparations, Jungjin had been running nonstop for the past year to handle the fallout from the allegations against Chairman Lee, the head of the group, involving solicitation, money laundering, and Madam Jang’s charges of bribery and tax evasion.
The current relative stability was the result of Jungjin’s blood, sweat, and tears.
“I’m sorry.”
“Haven’t we already gone over this?”
“Even so, I’m still sorry. We’ll do our best to provide adequate compensation.”
Watching Beomhyeon endure his unhealed wounds and struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy was just as difficult for Jungjin.
At twenty, twenty-one years old—the age when life should shine its brightest—his younger brother lay bedridden in a hospital.
Seeing Beomhyeon cling so desperately to Jungin added to the sorrow.
A quiet silence lingered as Chairman Ki, who rose from his seat, stared at Jungin’s face for a moment before leaving the guardian room with a darkened expression.
* * *
