Undercover Chaebol

It was hot in Seoul. And humid.

Yoon Jinah emerged from the company's private jet and took a deep breath.

The distinctive scent of Gimpo Business Aviation Terminal—a mixture of jet fuel, summer humidity, and something indefinably Korean—filled her lungs. Home, sweet home, she thought, descending the aircraft stairs with measured steps.

The sun was about to set behind the building, a gust of wind lifting the flaps of her dark gray business jacket. The suit she'd put on in Berlin stuck to her back, too warm for the heat here. Slipping her Bottega Veneta off her shoulder, she handed it to Park Seojun, who was walking a few steps behind her.

She shrugged out of her suit jacket as she walked, exchanging it for her handbag in one practiced motion with Park Seojun. With a quick flick of her wrist, she removed the sunglasses that had been keeping her black, shoulder-length hair from falling across her face and slipped them into her bag.

Entering the airport building, she shivered; her black silk blouse was too thin for the cold, climate-controlled terminal. "Do you want your jacket?" Park Seojun asked quietly.

"No, thank you. In a minute we'll be in the car anyway," she said, walking to the exit door.

Her phone buzzed insistently inside her bag, the device coming alive with messages as it found the local network. Behind her, Park Seojun spoke quietly into his mobile, giving instructions to his team for the collection of her luggage.

He hung up as they exited the terminal, where a limousine was already waiting for them, the driver standing next to the open door.

"Good evening, Deputy Manager Miss Yoon Jinah," he said, then bowed deeply from the waist.

Jinah gave a curt nod and slid into the car. The driver shut the door behind her, then moved around to hold open the passenger door for Park Seojun.

He got in and turned in his seat to check with a glance if she was comfortable.

Jinah didn't notice; she was frowning at her phone.

Ten messages. Most of them from father. As she scrolled down, she could hear his growing impatience, sharper with each word.

She sighed and leaned back in the leather seat, turning her face to the window. The city slid by. Streetlights cast their glow over people walking the sidewalks, waiting at the corners for the lights to change.

It was strange being back after so long. Strange yet familiar. After almost six years in Berlin, street signs and ads looked similar until you noticed the Hangul lettering everywhere. Buildings and streets were not so different from Europe but for the crowds walking on the sidewalks, released from office buildings after long working hours, rushing to catch the subway or the bus.

She turned her attention back to her phone, scrolling through the messages from her team in Germany. They wanted to know if she'd landed, how the weather was. Someone had sent a GIF of a wailing baby, with a note that they missed her. She smiled. She missed them too. The last week in Germany had been a blur of bittersweet goodbyes. Five years together, and her team felt less like colleagues, more like family. Two nights ago, she'd ended up drinking with Eva, her marketing director, the red wine flowing, the laughter dissolving into tears as they remembered old campaigns and late nights.

A tear splashed onto her phone, right over the baby's face. She wiped at her eyes, then scrubbed the screen against her suit trousers. Schluss damit. Enough. No point in dwelling on what was finished. Over.

She straightened, squared her shoulders, and tapped on father's number.

"Yes," she said into the phone, "I've landed. We're just leaving the terminal."

Her father's voice came sharp as a blade: "You’re late. Your flight was scheduled to touch down forty minutes ago."

No hello, not a word on how she was. Jinah dug her thumbnail into her palm. "There was some weather interference.”

“I see. You got my message? About tomorrow morning?”

"Yes, I will be there."

"Of course. And for tomorrow evening: I’ll have Kang Hyunsik call the store, they’ll prepare a few dresses for you."

Jinah gripped her phone hard enough for it to make a breaking sound.

“Yes father. See you tomorrow.”

He hung up without another word. Jinah's screen returned to the home menu, a crack in the glass.

The wool of her suit was too warm against her skin. She shifted in her seat, her body wanting to move after the long flight. Twisting awkwardly, she slipped out of the jacket, impatiently tearing at the sleeve, turning it inside out as she tore her arm out, flinging the garment on the seat next to her. Thumping the button for the window to open, she closed her eyes and let the warm summer wind cool her face, her hair blown back. Took a deep, calming breath. This was better. She took another breath, let it out slowly, concentrating on her body, calming down, relaxing her muscles.

Calmer now, she leaned back in her seat. Air moved across her face, carrying the scent of asphalt, the city, the faint green of trees. Buildings slid by. The car slowed, then stopped at a red.

Her eyes widened; she leaned forward, hand settling on the back of the driver’s seat.

“Go right when the light turns green.”

The driver glanced at her, startled, then gave a quick nod.

Park Seojun raised an eyebrow.

"The grocery store. I want Milky's," she said, smiling. The corners of his mouth turned up, then his face smoothed back to its usual, unreadable calm. Jinah leaned back, then tipped forward again, as if struck by a new thought. "And Chocopie. I absolutely need Chocopie."

Seojun nodded, catching her meaning. She leaned back again, folding her hands in her lap, letting the rush of air cool her flushed face as the car turned and stopped in front of a small grocery store.

Don’t get out. I’ll just run in and grab what I want. I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to the two men, but as she stepped out of the car, Park Seojun followed suit, imitating her. She turned and sighed. “Please, Seojun. I think I can manage a grocery store without getting into trouble. And if I do happen to walk in on a hold-up or something dramatic, you know I can take care of myself. Or, if it comes to that, I can use this.” She raised her left wrist, displaying the smartwatch.

Seojun’s gaze flicked over the entrance of the store, the sides, coolly assessing, as if half-expecting something to slip from the shadows. It wasn’t yet eight, but the neighborhood had already emptied, the handful of people outside moving quietly, intent on their own private errands. Seojun turned, caught her eye, and gave his familiar, silent nod.

“Do you want something? I can get you Pepero, or Chocopie?” Jinah said, already turning away, her words tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the store.

“No, thank you,” Seojun replied, shaking his head. He watched her cross the street, then changed his mind. “Miss Jinah!”

She stopped, surprised, half turning.

He hesitated, then: “Maybe some Jinju Cheese peel sausages?”

Jinah laughed, a real laugh, and shook her head at him. “Really? You like that stuff. Okay, I’ll bring it back for you,” she said, and disappeared inside the store.

Stepping into the store was like slipping through a crack in time. The last time she’d been in a place like this, she’d been in high school, ducking into corner shops with Hana after classes, the two of them grabbing sweets and drinks in a hurry, stuffing the forbidden snacks into their schoolbags before their drivers could catch them. The place smelled of microwaved noodles and sugar, the harsh neon lighting buzzing overhead, the refrigerator motors humming as she searched for her Milky’s. It all felt oddly comforting, as if she’d finally made it home.

She took a few cans of the sugary drink, scanned the shelves for her chocolate cookies, and added a box to her growing collection. A bag of grape juice candy went in next, and then she found the sausages Seojun had requested. Arms full, she made her way to the register.

A man about Jinah’s age leaned on the counter, elbows propped, chatting with the girl behind it. He wore faded jeans and a battered brown leather jacket, the kind that had seen better days—a strip of gray packaging tape covering what appeared to be a hole. The girl couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, probably a student working a part-time job, Jinah thought as she stepped up behind the man, awkwardly juggling the cans and bags. He didn’t seem to notice her at all; he kept talking, his voice low and coaxing, drawing laughter from the girl, whose cheeks were flushed pink.

"You know me, Seolah. I'm good for it. It's just that I'm a little short right now, but I swear I'll be back tomorrow with the cash."

She hesitated, fingers curling on the counter. "But you know I can’t do that, Oppa. If I just hand you the food, my boss will notice tomorrow when he checks the accounts. And there are cameras everywhere. He’ll see I didn’t ring it up," she said, torn between wanting him to like her and the fear of what might happen if she got caught.

Jinah saw the groceries—some fruit and vegetables, a bottle of beer, rice and instant coffee—already bagged in front of him on the counter. The clerk had registered them; they must be paid now.

"I'm sure he won't. I can leave you my phone and my address. Or even better, I'll leave you my ID. You can show it to him. If I don't bring back the money, he can call the cops on me," the man said in a reasonable, sincere tone, keeping his body low on the counter to avoid looking threatening.

"Excuse me. Could I...?" Jinah asked, squeezing past him, before her groceries slipped and a can fell to the floor. The man moved away to give her space, standing straighter but still leaning with his hip against the counter, now looking at her, startled.

Then he gave an amused chuckle.

"I'm sorry, lady, I was here first. But I guess you're in a hurry," he said in a mocking tone. The part-timer behind the counter looked at Jinah, wide-eyed.

Jinah ignored the stranger, digging in her bag, an irritated frown between her eyebrows.

Now where had she put it?

She looked up at the girl, voice ringing with impatience, "I'll pay for his stuff. Please ring up my things. I have someone waiting outside."

Then she continued digging in her bag.

The guy and the part-timer looked at each other, then the man opened his mouth. "Look, lady, there's no need..."

"Ah, here it is!" Jinah exclaimed, holding up her phone. She put up her payment app and held it out to the young woman.

"Do you want a bag?" the girl asked timidly as she rang up Jinah's chocolate and drinks.

The stranger kept looking at her, an amused smile on his face, handing her a can of Milky’s that had rolled over. “Here you go, Princess.”

"No, thank you,” she gave him an irritated look taking the can, telling the part-timer, ”I'll put everything in my bag.”

The man reached for his own bag, turning his attention to the sales girl. He flashed her a dazzling smile. “Have a nice evening, Seolah. See you around.”

The girl’s cheeks colored as she smiled back, waving a little. “Bye, Oppah. And bring some money next time.”

He laughed, the sound easy and unguarded, making the girl blush even more.

Jinah couldn’t help but notice how good-looking he was. If a little too pleased with himself.

She was about to leave when he said, “Well. I guess I’ll have to thank you for feeding me. Why don’t you give me your number, so I can pay you back at least.”

He was nearly a head taller than her. Jinah had to tilt her chin up to answer. “No need. Consider it my good deed for the day.” She gave the girl a brief nod and left.