“Money is something the owner knows about, not the servant,” said Chairman Jung Tae-soo of Hanbo Group during a parliamentary hearing, almost offhandedly.
We call ourselves employees, salarymen, but in truth, we’re just servants.
I’m a servant too. But I gritted my teeth, determined to become a butler someday.
Yet, instead of becoming a butler, I ended up as a discarded servant.
And then, I received a blessing from the heavens.
Half a blessing, to be precise.
Everything was great, but why did I have to be the youngest?
[The Youngest Son of a Conglomerate Family]
[001] The Life of a Servant 1.
“Mr. Yoon, why are you on the phone for so long?”
As soon as I put down the receiver, burying my head in the papers on my desk, a sharp female voice cut through the air.
I knew who it was, but I lifted my head slowly, feigning exhaustion.
The first thing I noticed was the curve of her hips at the edge of my desk. As my gaze traveled upward, I saw her slender waist, the artistic line connecting her waist to her hips.
Wow, stunning.
And the start of that waist? Incredible.
Her chest, clearly more than a C-cup, stood out against her white shirt.
Those beautiful, full breasts. If only I could touch them just once, I’d have no other wishes.
Now, for the climax.
The delicate line where her neck meets her shoulders.
If someone wanted to paint a masterpiece, they should look at her shoulder line instead of a real orchid. It would be a work of art.
Finally, my eyes met her small, elegant face.
With such a stunning body and beautiful face, why isn’t she a celebrity?
“Mr. Yoon, stop pretending to be tired and call line three. They’re urgently looking for you.”
For a few seconds, I was in heaven, but the mention of line three brought me back to reality.
“Okay, I’ll call right away.”
“Hurry, it seems urgent.”
Heaven returned as she turned away.
Her retreating figure, the gentle sway of her hips with each step.
Her long, firm thighs seemed ready to burst through her tight skirt, and her pale calves had the soft texture of dough.
If only I could have a moment with her.
But that will never happen. She’s the vice chairman’s secretary.
Everyone knows she’s not just any secretary.
She lives in a luxury apartment with a rent over three hundred and drives a Ferrari. Of course, both the apartment and the Ferrari were bought by the company.
It’s obvious what it means to give such benefits to a mere secretary who’s neither an executive nor family.
I’m envious. Damn it.
Being born into a conglomerate family means having the chance to woo half the world’s beauties.
“Oh, right! Line three.”
I quickly picked up the receiver and pressed the hotline for line three. As soon as the ringing stopped, a nonchalant voice came through, despite the urgency.
“There’s a car parked in Nonhyeon-dong. Take care of it.”
And then the call ended. What a rude bastard.
I picked up the receiver again.
“Mr. Choi, head to Nonhyeon-dong right away and find out where the car is.”
He didn’t even ask how to find the car in the vast Nonhyeon-dong.
Of course not.
By now, the police and onlookers would have swarmed the place.
It’s obvious what the vice chairman’s son and the chairman’s grandson did.
Whether he was high or drunk, he must have been driving in a daze. He probably crashed into a roadside store or hit a tree or lamppost.
Of course, he would have fled the scene and then called me.
This isn’t the first time, so Mr. Choi knows exactly what to do.
I just hope he didn’t hit someone and run.
I quickly sent out a text.
[This is Hyun-woo Yoon from Sunyang Group. The recent accident in Nonhyeon-dong is nothing serious. Please handle it well.]
The reporters in the social affairs department of each media outlet know exactly what this text means. Depending on the severity of the accident, the thickness of the envelopes filling their pockets will vary, but it’s a foregone conclusion that they’ll make a tidy sum.
And the hit-and-run involving a luxury foreign car will only be a hot topic on the SNS of those who witnessed it in Nonhyeon-dong. It will soon disappear, and not a single line will appear in the media.
About thirty minutes later, I received a text from Mr. Choi.
[He crashed into a furniture store. They’re demanding 70 million won for repair and compensation. Please proceed.]
Damn bastard.
I don’t know why he crashed, but because of his hot temper, a manager-level salary just went up in smoke.
Forget it, it’s not my money anyway.
The hectic day was finally coming to an end. Will I get off work on time today? It’s my wife’s birthday, and I hope this is it.
I should at least give her a gift to prevent our already strained relationship from getting worse.
But things never go as I wish.
The phone rang, as if waiting for this moment, proving my point.
I composed myself and picked up the receiver. The voice of the chairman’s chief secretary came through.
“Chief, there will be staff at the department store. Do I really need to…?”
Again?
How can the chairman’s wife prefer a rival department store over our group’s?
“Ah, yes. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, Chief. I’ll handle it without a hitch.”
I wanted to throw the receiver.
I didn’t go to university to become a servant carrying shopping bags, nor did I build my resume to clean up after a spoiled brat.
But I lacked the courage and pride to refuse such absurd tasks.
Suppressing my rising anger, I rushed to the department store. I had to be there before the madam arrived.
Two sedans pulled into the VIP parking lot of the department store.
Though over seventy, the madam flaunted a slim figure and clear skin, thanks to money, medical science, and her immense effort.
The money and effort were for appearances.
The madam wore a tight-fitting dress and boots.
While her peers might envy her and she might feel proud, to younger eyes, she looked bizarre.
“Oh my, Mr. Yoon! You’re early?”
I nodded slightly without a word. I knew from experience that her bright smile would soon turn into irritation.
If the Italian brand’s size 44 clothes, newly arrived today, were even slightly tight on her, she’d turn the store upside down.
Three male bodyguards and a female secretary led the way as the chairman’s wife followed.
I sidled up to the female secretary and whispered.
“Who’s the new guy?”
“Shh.”
She gave a brief shake of her head and winked.
“Ah.”
Oh, the lustful old witch. She’s found another man already.
If she’s still so sexually active at over seventy, it’s clear the chairman’s family got their womanizing tendencies from the maternal side.
The madam, who had taken the VIP elevator directly to the store, frowned in annoyance.
“Did they leave the store open to the public? Even though they knew I was coming?”
That comment was directed at me.
Damn it, I just got the call and rushed over. When did I have time to clear the place?
“I’ll handle it right away. I’m sorry.”
As I rushed out, the entourage began berating the store staff. I called the store manager and started yelling.
“Didn’t you hear that she was coming today? Are you out of your mind?”
“But who is she…?”
The store manager looked terrified.
With burly men in suits surrounding the store and an old lady who looked like she was ready to spend a fortune striding towards them, it was understandable.
“I’m Yoon from the Sunyang Group’s strategy department. That’s the chairman’s wife. Are you claiming you didn’t know to keep the public out? Really?”
This tactic always worked.
One mistake with a VIP, and a manager’s career could be over.
A single VIP could spend in a day what a hundred regular customers might spend, and that kind of spending power could make or break a store manager’s career.
The store manager bowed without hesitation.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately.”
The manager didn’t even consider that I might be from Sunyang Group. He was convinced I was a high-ranking official from L Group.
Eventually, with all available store staff controlling access, our madam finally entered the store with a satisfied smile.
Now I could relax a bit. But the madam’s secretary had to heighten all her senses to superhuman levels.
She had to accurately gauge the madam’s interest in each piece of clothing, noting her touch, gaze, and the time spent on each item.
In just over ten minutes, the madam held only three outfits.
“What do you think? Are they nice?”
“The colors are quite bold…”
“Not you.”
The madam cut off the store manager’s opinion and turned her gaze to the newly hired man.
“Mr. Kim?”
The handsome man with the surname Kim just smiled gently.
“What do I know? If you wear it, it’s fashion.”
What? If she wears it, it’s fashion?
I barely suppressed a snort of disbelief.
An over-seventy woman wearing bold colors isn’t fashion. It’s just ridiculous.
However, the old lady, clearly delighted by the young man’s compliment, broke into a shy smile. Whether young or old, a handsome man’s praise has the power to bring a smile to any woman’s face.
“Why don’t you try it on? I think it would look great on you.”
“Should I?”
With that, she took the clothes and headed into the fitting room, encouraged by the young man’s suggestion.
“Mr. Kim, could you help me for a moment? The zipper’s a bit stuck.”
I thought I must have misheard. Calling a man to help with changing clothes? Not a female assistant?
It was the moment my suspicions were confirmed. Mr. Kim wasn’t just a bodyguard; he was the new plaything the lady had acquired.