Chapter Twenty – The Weight of His Name
(Joon-Ho’s POV)
The cameras were still flashing in his mind.
The sting of microphones shoved too close.
The suffocating smile his father demanded while the nation looked on.
“Stand tall, Joon-Ho. From now on, you are not just my son—you are Daehan Group’s future.”
His father’s voice had been steady, commanding. There was no room for hesitation, no space for questions. Just obedience.
Now, as the black car hummed through Seoul’s evening traffic, Joon-Ho sat in silence, his phone buzzing endlessly in his pocket. His name was trending, his face plastered on every news site, every gossip page, every timeline.
And somewhere out there, Amara had seen it too.
The thought clenched around his heart like a fist. He pictured her staring at the screen, her lips parting in shock, her eyes narrowing with hurt. Did she hate him now? Did she feel like a fool for not knowing?
“Your introduction went well,” his father said from the opposite seat, his tone measured, his expression carved from stone. “From now on, you will attend family board meetings. It is time you step into your role.”
Joon-Ho kept his eyes on the blurred city lights outside the window. His reflection stared back at him, sharp suit and all, a stranger in his own skin.
Finally, he asked, “What about my life?”
His father’s gaze snapped toward him. “Your life is Daehan. There is nothing else. No distractions. Do you understand?”
Distractions.
That’s what Amara was to him in his father’s eyes.
Joon-Ho’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Because what good would defiance do now?
Yet, inside, his thoughts wouldn’t let go. She wasn’t a distraction. She was the only real thing he had found in years of living under shadows and expectations. In the library, in quiet conversations, in the heat of moments that still haunted him—Amara had seen him as just Joon-Ho, not Daehan’s heir.
And now, he had lost that.
When the car finally stopped at the mansion gates, he stepped out, his posture straight, his expression unreadable. But later, when the world grew quiet and he was alone in his room, the truth clawed its way back.
He missed her. He wanted her. And no matter how much his father ordered, Amara’s name burned louder than the legacy he was being forced to carry.
