The air in the Hong’s Mansion was heavy and suffocating. Even dust clung to every corner of the grand halls, once gleaming with the pride of his family name. Now, the chandeliers hung like forgotten relics, their crystal prisms dulled by neglect. The vast estate, surrounded by tall iron gates and sprawling, unkempt gardens, was an eerie reflection of its owner—cold, distant, and broken.
Seo Jun sat by the floor-to-ceiling window in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey he hadn’t bothered diluting. Rain streaked down the glass in lazy trails, the gloomy weather fitting the dark cloud of memories that haunted him. His mind drifted, unbidden, to the screams, the screeching of tires, and the blinding headlights of that night—the night his parents were stolen from him. He clenched his jaw, pushing the images away and focusing instead on the burning sensation of the whiskey sliding down his throat.
A knock at the door disrupted his brooding. Seo Jun’s eyes darted toward it, his irritation flaring.
“What now?” he barked.
The butler—one of the few staff members who hadn’t yet quit—peeked in cautiously. His graying hair and weary face spoke of years of enduring Seo Jun’s temper.
“Sir, there’s a candidate here for the housekeeping position,” the butler said, his voice measured but nervous.
Seo Jun scoffed. “Another one? How long do you think this one will last? A week, maybe two?”
“He seems determined, sir,” the butler replied.
Seo Jun rolled his eyes. “Send him in. Let’s see how determined he is.”
Lee Han Su stood in the grand foyer, clutching a thin folder containing his résumé. He shifted nervously on his worn sneakers, the grandeur of the mansion intimidating him. But he straightened his back and inhaled deeply. He had no choice but to be here. His family needed him. His mother’s medical bills were piling up, and his younger sister’s tuition was overdue.
When the butler returned and gestured for him to follow, Han Su’s resolve hardened. He was used to fighting uphill battles.
The study door opened, and Seo Jun didn’t bother looking up. He remained in his chair, swirling his whiskey.
“You’re the new applicant?” Seo Jun drawled, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Yes, sir. My name is Lee Han Su,” Han Su replied, bowing respectfully despite the icy reception.
“Why are you here? To snoop around in my life like the rest of them?” Seo Jun’s gaze finally met Han Su’s—cold and assessing.
“I’m here because I need a job,” Han Su said evenly, “and because this mansion could use someone to bring it back to life.”
Seo Jun let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Bring it back to life? What makes you think I care about that?”
Han Su’s eyes didn’t waver. “Maybe you don’t. But a house like this deserves to be cared for—whether you care or not.”
For a moment, Seo Jun was taken aback by Han Su’s boldness. Most people cowered under his biting remarks, but this boy stood his ground.
“Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?” Seo Jun asked, rising from his chair. His imposing figure cast a shadow over Han Su.
“I’m not easy to work for. I don’t care for pleasantries, and I don’t have patience for mistakes.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Han Su replied simply.
Seo Jun’s lips twitched, almost as if he were amused, but the expression vanished as quickly as it appeared. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and menacing.
“You’ll regret staying here. Everyone does.”
Han Su replied, “Then I’ll be the first who doesn’t.”
The first day of work felt like walking on broken glass for Han Su. Seo Jun wasted no time asserting his authority — or rather, his disdain. Every task Han Su attempted was met with relentless criticism.
When Han Su polished the antique vases in the hallway, Seo Jun sneered at the streaks on the glass. When Han Su swept the marble floors, Seo Jun pointed out specks of dust he claimed were missed.
“Is this what you call clean?” Seo Jun said, holding a pristine vase under the light and scrutinizing it with exaggerated disdain.
“It’s cleaner than it’s been in years,” Han Su muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” Seo Jun’s tone cut through the air like a knife.
“Nothing, sir,” Han Su replied quickly, bowing his head to hide his irritation.
Seo Jun smirked, clearly satisfied. “Good. Then get back to work.”
It went on like this for days. Seo Jun seemed determined to break Han Su’s resolve, throwing unreasonable demands his way.
“Reorganize the library by tomorrow,” he ordered one morning, ignoring the fact that the library had thousands of books, many of which were layered with years of dust.
Han Su bit back his frustration. “I need this job,” he reminded himself. His mother’s pale face and his sister’s hopeful smile fueled his determination.
One night after an exhausting day, Han Su was in the kitchen cleaning up when he heard it — muffled sobs drifting down the hall. He froze, his hands stilling over the sink. The sound was faint but unmistakable. Curiosity got the better of him, and he quietly made his way toward the source.
It led him to the study, where the door was slightly ajar. Peeking through the crack, he saw Seo Jun sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. His head was buried in his arms, and his shoulders shook with each sob.
Han Su’s heart twisted. This wasn’t the cold, unfeeling man he had come to know. This was someone deeply broken, someone drowning in grief.
He wanted to step in, to say something, but he knew it wasn’t his place. Instead, he retreated silently, his mind racing.
The next morning, Han Su made a quiet decision. He wouldn’t confront Seo Jun about what he had seen, but he would try to ease the man’s pain in his own way.
It started with small things. He brewed a cup of chamomile tea and left it on Seo Jun’s desk, saying it was good for stress. Seo Jun eyed it suspiciously but didn’t comment.
When Seo Jun criticized his work, Han Su responded with a calm nod instead of snapping back. He didn’t push, didn’t pry, but his demeanor softened.
One day, Han Su noticed a family portrait on a dusty shelf. It was the only sign of warmth in the otherwise cold mansion. He carefully cleaned the frame and placed it on Seo Jun’s desk.
When Seo Jun saw it, his expression flickered — pain, gratitude, and anger all rolled into one.
The change didn’t go unnoticed. Seo Jun grew more irritable, as though Han Su’s kindness was a challenge to his carefully constructed walls.
Late one evening, Seo Jun cornered him in the hallway. His face was a mask of fury, but his eyes betrayed something deeper.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Han Su blinked, genuinely confused. “I don’t understand.”
“All these little gestures. The picture. Do you think I need your pity?” Seo Jun’s voice was sharp, but it wavered.
“It’s not pity,” Han Su replied evenly. “I just thought—”
“That’s your problem,” Seo Jun interrupted, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You think too much about things that don’t concern you.”
Han Su held his ground, refusing to look away. “You’re hurting, and I—”
“I don’t need your help!” Seo Jun snapped, his voice cracking. “If you can’t keep your nose out of my business, you’re fired. Do you understand me?”
Han Su met Seo Jun’s glare, his heart pounding but his voice steady. “Fire me if you want, but I’m not going to stop trying to help you.”
Thanks So Much For Reading. You Can Get The Full Book By Clicking The LinkBelow https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FF4VNQP5
Enjoy watching my Bl Animated stories on Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/@Blstories4u
ns216.73.216.252da2
→ Request update
and then Add to home screen.