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Vieil Amour- Milmine



In the hushed corridors of PSH Bank, The famous business man park sunghoon's entry exudes an almost tangible chill. Employees swiftly shift their gazes, a mixture of respect and unease underlying their movements. Each of his steps resonates with intent, an echo of authority reverberating through the workspace. His secretary approaches, her approach measured.



"Sir, your mother just called. She's insisting you head home."



His gaze remains resolute, his response carefully measured. "Let her know that I'm busy."


The day unfolds as expected, a sequence of meetings where Sunghoon's detached professionalism leaves an indelible mark.


Yet, as the sun sets, the corporate façade he wears starts to loosen, revealing a more complex existence beneath.


Beneath the cloak of night, Sunghoon shifts from boardrooms to alleyways. Shielded from prying eyes, he issues directives to his network of connections, his influence extending into both legitimate and murkier domains. His movements reflect a practiced familiarity with the hidden realm he navigates.



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As darkness deepens, his path leads to a neighborhood that stands in stark contrast to his daytime domain. A modest home waits, its wear and tear etched into every corner. Inside, his mother opens the door, an interplay of exasperation and fondness dancing in her eyes.


"At last, you've graced us with your presence," she teases, the lines on her face belying her motherly concern. "Any plans to leave this place behind?"



A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, the tension of the day still visible on his features. "I'm here now, aren't I?"



A sigh passes between them, heavy with unspoken words. Sunghoon takes a seat, his eyes roving around the room, each item a repository of memories.



"Mother, do you you like the new TV?" he asks, an attempt to shift the conversation from the weight of the past.



Her response is a mix of skepticism and affection. "Material gains can't compensate for time spent together."



As the room remains a vault of unspoken memories, Sunghoon's mind drifts back to a past that lingers. The echoes of his father's voice resurface, a chorus of expectations and unmet hopes.



A memory resurfaces: his father's stern expression.






"Study, son. Is there any other purpose?"





𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐓 ☾ │Park Sunghoon Where stories live. Discover now