RED STRING || 1

Chapter one.

SEULGI STOOD STILL in the hallway, her hand frozen mid-air, about to knock on her father's office door. The sweet aroma of the chocolate cupcakes she had made lingered in the air, but they no longer felt important. The sharp sound of her father's voice on the other side of the door startled her, his words heated and urgent.

"There is no way I'm putting her at risk!" he shouted.

Seulgi's heart skipped a beat. Her? Who was he talking about? And what risk was he referring to? Her curiosity gnawed at her, but the confusion quickly gave way to a sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn't know what was happening, but it sounded serious. Her father, the man who had always been so in control, was angry. And yet, she could feel a deep unease settling over her, as if the world she had known was shifting beneath her feet.

She set the cupcakes on the kitchen counter, the warmth of the homemade treats now a distant thought, and made her way upstairs to her room. Her footsteps echoed through the house as she walked, but each step felt heavier than the last. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong-something was about to change.

Seulgi sat down on her bed, her elbows resting on her thighs, her hands supporting the weight of her head. She stared at the floor, lost in thought, trying to piece together what had just happened. The faint sound of her mother's voice broke through her thoughts, and Seulgi looked up to see her walking into the room with a glass of milk in hand. She offered it to Seulgi, a gesture that felt both comforting and infantilizing.

Seulgi was twenty-four years old. Too old for milk, really. But her mother, in her warm, quiet way, still treated her as though she were a child. It was a bittersweet kind of love-the kind that Seulgi had grown used to, though it still made her heart ache for something more. Her father had always been too busy to spend time with her, buried under the weight of his work. And when he was home, his attention was often divided, leaving Seulgi feeling like a secondary priority in his life.

Her mother sat beside her, placing a hand gently on her back, rubbing small circles as if to offer comfort without words. The silence between them wasn't awkward-it was simply shared understanding, the kind that only a mother and daughter could have. Seulgi leaned into her mother's touch, resting her head on her shoulder, the tears threatening to come, though she hadn't even begun to process what was going on.

"I'm pretty sure you heard it," her mother said softly.

Seulgi's chest tightened as she nodded, her heart sinking further. She had heard her father's angry voice, but she hadn't expected to be caught in the middle of whatever conflict was unfolding. All her life, she had longed for her father's attention, for the time he could never give. He was always too busy. He was always "working" for their family, always out of reach, always too consumed with the weight of the business to notice her.

But even though he hadn't given her the attention she craved, Seulgi had always been spoiled with material things. If she wanted something-a new car, the latest fashion, anything-her father was quick to provide. With just one word, he would grant her desires. But somehow, it never felt enough. Not when she had been left in the shadow of his work.

Her mother had tried to teach her different values. Raised her to be gracious, to be humble, to understand the effort that went into everything they had. Seulgi never grew up as a spoiled brat, even though, in many ways, she had been spoiled. She had been taught to be grateful for what was given to her, even if it wasn't always what she wanted most-her father's time.

Seulgi had learned to fend for herself, too. She had worked a temporary job as a waitress when her mother suggested it, eager to gain experience and understand the world outside the bubble her family had created for her. It had been a humbling experience, one that had shaped her into someone who didn't take everything for granted, despite the material wealth that surrounded her.

But now, in this moment, as she sat beside her mother in her room, a feeling of helplessness washed over her. It was as if the walls of her carefully constructed life were slowly crumbling, and she didn't know how to stop it.

"I tried giving him cookies I made," Seulgi said, her voice small and pouty, though it held an edge of frustration. "But he's angry, and I didn't want to disturb him."

Her mother didn't respond right away. She simply patted Seulgi's back, her touch a constant source of warmth. "Princess, he's doing that for us," she said, as if the words were a soothing balm. But Seulgi had heard that excuse so many times over the years. Her mother had always defended her father, always excused his absence with the same tired phrase: "He's working for us."

Seulgi had long ago stopped questioning it. She understood, or at least she told herself she did. But the ache in her heart never went away. She still wanted more. She still wanted her father's presence.

The memories of her childhood flooded back-the moments when she had hoped her father would show up at her school events, her graduation, or a family outing. She had asked, time and time again, "Is daddy going to be there?" And each time, the answer was the same: "No, Princess. Daddy's busy working to provide for us."

Seulgi had always excelled in school, driven by her own ambition and the pressure to succeed. She had no time for relationships or social activities, focusing instead on her academics and arts. Her life was a whirlwind of school and extracurriculars, leaving little room for anything else. Her friends, if she had any, were few and far between, and she had no time for the usual teenage mischief-sneaking drinks or singing at karaoke bars. Her life had been structured, disciplined, and above all, lonely.

But she understood why her family was so wealthy. It was because of the sacrifices her father made. She had always admired his dedication to their future, even if it came at the expense of their time together.

Seulgi's thoughts were interrupted as her father entered the room. His face was tense, his brow furrowed, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just... worry.

"Princess," he said softly, "Can we talk?"

Seulgi nodded, her heart racing. Her mother gave him space to sit beside Seulgi, then moved to the vanity chair. Seulgi looked up at her father, her mind racing. What could he possibly want to talk about now?

"Princess, daddy wants a little favor from you," he began, his voice steady but laced with unease. "But you can always say no if you don't want to, okay?"

The use of "Princess" made Seulgi's heart swell. It wasn't because she was spoiled; it was because it reminded her that, despite everything, she was still his precious daughter.

"What is it, Dad?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He took her hand in his, his fingers fidgeting nervously. She noticed it-how his fingers betrayed his calm demeanor. He looked at her, his gaze filled with unspoken tension.

"The Baes' child will be arranged to marry you," he said, his words coming out slowly, as though he was unsure of how to break the news. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but this is the only way to save our company from going under. I shouldn't have invested so much, and now we're losing. The only way forward is to have our company acquired by the Baes, and in exchange, we'll have to align ourselves with them... and that means you."

Seulgi's heart dropped. The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. She felt a wave of nausea rise in her stomach. Arranged marriage?

Her father continued, "I believe in you. I know that one day, when you take over, you'll be able to handle everything. But it's not too late to say no. I won't sacrifice my daughter's happiness for this. We can start anew-"

Seulgi didn't want her father's sacrifices to go to waste. She didn't want him to feel as though his efforts had been for nothing. And despite everything-the lack of time, the distance between them-she knew that this was what her family needed. She couldn't let the company collapse.

"No, I will do it," she said, her voice resolute.

Her father looked at her, eyes wide in surprise. "You will? It's not against your will?"

Seulgi shook her head. "I'll do it, Dad. For the family. For everything you've worked for."

Her heart was heavy, but she knew this was the right thing to do. Despite the lack of attention and the years of emotional distance, she knew her family loved her. And now, it was her turn to sacrifice-for them.