Divorce Contract C90

Chapter 90

 

“What… are you doing?”

Following him into the room, Shin Eunsuk stopped in her tracks.
Dr. Kwon Juil had already opened his medical bag, pulling out a syringe and an IV drip with calm efficiency.

She didn’t say a word.

With practiced hands, he rolled up Igyeol’s sleeve, pressed lightly into the cold skin, and slid the needle in.
The crisp rip of tape echoed in the quiet room.
Only Eunsuk’s eyebrows twitched at how routine this seemed for him.

After checking blood pressure and temperature, Dr. Kwon packed up again, rising as though his job were simply to reset a fragile device.

“His body’s weak. He can’t handle even mild stress. He must be looked after with special care.”

“Oh heavens… yes, thank you, Doctor.”

“And forgive me for asking, but… I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. Have you just come into the household?”

He spoke lightly as he picked up his bag.
Eunsuk offered a shy smile.

“I’m only staying for a while. For Igyeol’s sake.”

“Ah. I understand. Then forgive my assumption.”

“No need.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave.”

He bowed—deeply.
Eunsuk bowed back, still unsure how to respond to such exaggerated politeness, but she followed him out because… well, someone had to.

“Go safely, Doctor.”

“And to you as well.”

Even as he left the house, he turned back several times to bow again.
Once the door closed and silence returned, Eunsuk exhaled, bewildered.
Who bows like that to a stranger?
But Dr. Kwon had already swept down the marble stairs, pulling out his phone the second he stepped past the gate.

He pressed a familiar contact.

The line barely rang once.

“Doctor Kwon!?”

“Yes, Chairman. It’s me.”

“Well? Who was there? Was Dohyeon present? And that boy—why did he call you again? What’s wrong now?”

“The Executive Director wasn’t home. Someone else was caring for him. I asked if she was staff, but she said no—she’s staying for Go Igyeol-ssi.”

“Dohyeon allowed someone else in the house? To stay for Igyeol… hmm. And the boy—how was he?”

“Fainted again today. Not as bad as the first time I saw him, though. There’s improvement, but he’s still very fragile.”

Chairman Seo Jeongjae’s long sigh trembled through the phone.

“I want him properly examined, but I can’t force the boy out…and I can’t face him myself. Tch. Tell me—shouldn’t he be on medication? Western or herbal—anything?”

“I can’t prescribe without seeing him awake, sir… As you know, he’s always unconscious when I visit.”

“Yes, yes… I know. And this woman—this ‘caretaker’—you didn’t get her name?”

“It wasn’t the right moment, Chairman. My apologies—I didn’t ask.”

Another sigh.
Deep, exasperated, heavy enough to shake the line.

“Fine. And her appearance?”

“She seemed plain, but kind. If the Executive Director let her stay, she must be someone important to Go-ssi.”

“I’ll look into it. You’ve done well today.”

“Thank you, Chairman. Please rest well.”

After hanging up, wiping cold sweat from his brow, Dr. Kwon grabbed his car door handle—

—when a figure detached from the shadows.

Every muscle in his body froze.

“…Executive Director?”

“I suspected it,” Dohyeon said quietly. “But seeing it… is still unpleasant.”

“N-No, sir, it was only—”

“I expected this, Doctor. Every visit, you report everything. Why else would I wait here, if not to confirm it myself?”

Dohyeon stepped forward and opened the car door for him.

“Speak only what you witnessed.”

“Y-yes, sir. Only what I saw.”

“If you understand that much, good.”

His tone was ice.
A warning carved into every syllable.

He gave Dr. Kwon’s shoulder a light, chilling pat and walked away.

“G-go safely, sir…”

Dohyeon paused.

“Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“The only ears I allow to receive your words belong to my grandfather. You understand that?”

“Perfectly, sir.”

“Good.”

And then Dohyeon disappeared back into the garage’s shadows, leaving Kwon Juil nearly collapsing into his seat from sheer relief.

---

On the drive back to the company, with Yoon Jaeseon at the wheel, Dohyeon was silent—thinking.
Calculating.

He needed to rid them of Go Daesik.
Once and for all.

“Shall we proceed, sir?” Jaeseon asked.

“Hm? Ah… yes. When do you begin?”

“He’ll be asking for money again soon. We give him enough to bait him, then wait. The man is all instinct and no brain—he never thinks past his next gamble.”

Dohyeon tilted his head toward the window, watching the blur of passing streets.

When he thought of Igyeol’s trembling hands at something as trivial as a kiosk card reader… compared to Daesik, who threw away money like garbage, rage simmered low in his chest.

From Igyeol’s gentle, frightened nature, Dohyeon had imagined what his real parents must have been:
soft-voiced, patient, kind.

What cosmic joke had placed that child into the hands of a man like Daesik?

“When you told me to observe him,” Jaeseon continued, “I found he borrows heavily from loan sharks. He keeps bragging his son will bring him money soon.”

“Why are there only vultures around him…”

His voice was barely a mutter.

“Though I am… perhaps not so different from them.”

Jaeseon kept quiet—because truthfully, he had thought the same.
But he valued his job and his life too much to agree out loud.

“You’re cursing me in your head.”

“N-no, sir! Never!”

Dohyeon shot him a sideways glance—half amused, half bitter.
Jaeseon’s mortified face said everything.

“The gambling dens are mapped?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Begin spreading word.”

Jaeseon nodded.
Meanwhile, Dohyeon leaned back, fingers pressing briefly into the corners of his eyes.

“The Chairman will attend the meeting today,” Jaeseon reminded quietly.

“I know. He’s coming for me.”

“I suspect so. He’s been trying to see the baby at the hospital.”

“He wasted his time.”

Dohyeon’s voice hardened.

He would never show his family the child.
Not one of them deserved it.

One day, he would have to let go of Igyeol—and when that happened, the last thing he wanted was for any of his relatives to claim the baby.

“They’d only drag him into filth,” he muttered. “They are no blessing.”

After a long moment, Dohyeon spoke again.

“Mr. Yoon.”

“Yes, sir?”

“If Go Daesik disappeared—gone, erased—would it bring comfort to Igyeol?”

“…I doubt he would celebrate, but… yes. It would ease him.”

Silence.
Only the hum of the engine.

Then Dohyeon whispered:

“When he said he wanted to begin again…”

Jaeseon held his breath.

“…he couldn’t have meant he wanted to begin again with me… could he?”

“…Perhaps, sir,” Jaeseon answered softly. “Perhaps he did.”