The ripple effects of Hae-in and Hyun-woo's united front extended far beyond the walls of the Queens Group. The viral videos, the public proposal, and their newfound power dynamic were the talk of the town, and their families, both in-laws, were forced to reckon with this seismic shift.
In the hallowed, silent halls of the Hong family mansion, a tense council was called. In the study, a room usually reserved for stern, silent contemplation, sat Chairman Hong Man-dae, his face a complex mixture of pride and a deep, abiding guilt. His wife, Kim Seon-hwa, was opposite him, her hands clasped tightly, her face a mask of bitter resentment. Their son, Hong Soo-cheol, and his wife, Da-hye, were present, looking more bewildered than ever. And then there was Hong Beom-ja, the self-appointed narrator of this entire drama, her eyes gleaming with a delightful anticipation.
"We need to discuss this," Seon-hwa began, her voice a low, furious whisper. "The way they have been conducting themselves is a complete disgrace. He is making a mockery of our family name."
"Mother," Soo-cheol, ever the diplomat, attempted to interject. "Have you seen the numbers? Director Baek's legal counsel has saved the company from two lawsuits. My sister, with his support, has closed two major deals this week alone. Their stock is at an all-time high."
The words, so logical and fact-based, seemed to hit Seon-hwa like a physical blow. She had no answer. She had expected them to crumble under the pressure, to show weakness, but they had done the exact opposite. They had thrived.
But Beom-ja, always one for the theatrics, decided to give a more personal and heartfelt defense. She leaned forward, her voice a dramatic, powerful presence in the quiet room. "Look at my niece," she said, her eyes fixed on Seon-hwa. "When have you ever seen her so happy? When have you ever seen her laugh so freely, so completely? He didn't make a mockery of our family. He made a mockery of a life that was cold, empty, and devoid of love. He gave her back her life, and he gave her back her laughter."
Seon-hwa just scoffed, but she had no fire in her retort. She couldn't deny the truth of Beom-ja's words. She had seen the pictures. She had seen the way her daughter looked at her husband. It was a look of pure, unadulterated love, something she hadn't seen in years.
It was Chairman Hong Man-dae who finally broke the tension. He had been listening in silence, his expression unreadable, but now, he spoke. His voice was a low, steady rumble, filled with a quiet authority that commanded everyone's attention.
"Seon-hwa," he began, his voice filled with a solemn gravitas, "you must stop."
Seon-hwa's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. Her husband rarely, if ever, went against her.
"For too long," Man-dae continued, his gaze filled with a deep, weary sadness, "you have blamed my daughter for the death of her brother. You have punished her. You have made her life a living hell. But what happened... what happened was an accident. It was a tragedy. It was no one's fault. And it was certainly not hers."
The words hung in the air, a final, unyielding declaration. Beom-ja, who had seen this pain simmer for years, felt a profound, emotional release. Her sister had finally been confronted, finally been told the truth she had refused to accept for so long.
Seon-hwa's face crumpled, the bitterness and anger finally giving way to a profound, heart-wrenching grief. She looked at her husband, then at her children, and for the first time, she saw the pain she had caused. The years of unspoken blame had finally been verbalized, and now, it had nowhere to hide.
Soo-cheol, who had grown up in the shadow of his sister's perceived guilt, finally understood. He had always known the truth in his heart, but hearing his father say it out loud, with such a quiet, resolute conviction, finally gave him the courage to voice his own feelings.
"Father is right, Mother," he said, his voice a low, steady murmur. "What happened was an accident. And what Hyun-woo and Hae-in have... it's a good thing. They are happy. We should be happy for them."
Man-dae nodded, his eyes filled with a deep, paternal affection as he looked at his son. He then turned his gaze to his wife, his expression a quiet plea for her to let go of her pain and her guilt.
"We have caused them enough pain," Man-dae said, his voice filled with a deep, quiet sadness. "We will not interfere in their lives. We will not question them. They are happy. Their work performance has never been better. We should let them have free reign. They deserve it."
Beom-ja, who had orchestrated this entire confrontation, was in awe. She had always known her brother had a backbone, but this was a level of defiance she had never seen before. He was finally standing up to his wife, finally fighting for his daughter's happiness.
Seon-hwa, her body still trembling with a mix of fury and a profound, overwhelming grief, finally relented. She had been defeated, not by the audacity of her son-in-law, but by the undeniable truth of her family's words.
The room fell into a quiet, somber silence. The old bitterness was gone, replaced by a raw, painful understanding. The family had faced their demons, and for the first time, they were on the path to healing.
They had been given a silent truce, a wordless acceptance of their relationship. The public displays of affection, the newfound happiness, the unapologetic love—it was no longer a scandal. It was now a beautiful, undeniable truth. And with the blessing of the family patriarch, their love was now a force that could never be broken. They had not just won the battle; they had won the war. And now, they could finally begin to live their lives, happily, and with no more shame or guilt.