I'll Marry Your Brother (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 7

I quickly got ready upon seeing the message “How are you doing?” pop up on the screen and headed straight for the broadcasting station.

By the time I arrived, it was just past weekday lunch hour, and the building was bustling with activity.

Getting off at the familiar floor, I spotted the office of the head of KBC’s Programming Division.

“One year… no, it’s been four years.”

After marrying Ji Han, I had taken a year-long leave from my announcer position, and ultimately resigned.

I had wanted to keep working even after marriage, but an unexpected family accident left me no choice but to quit.

“Back then, I wasn’t in any condition to continue working.”

Things were different now, though…

I gave a brief knock and opened the door.

The familiar office interior—where I’d come and gone countless times during my announcer days—came into view.

Kook Hyun, the head of the News Programming Division, sat at his desk.

He’d been reviewing approval documents but looked up as I entered, offering a faint smile.

“Long time no see.”

He greeted me warmly, taking off his glasses and placing them on the table.

He seemed intrigued by the boldness of a former announcer on leave showing up unannounced, yet his eyes held a sharp glint.

“It’s been a while, Director.”

I bowed slightly to him, who was eyeing me with narrowed eyes.

I needed this man for my revenge—or more precisely, I needed the power the Director held to restore me to the main anchor position.

“You must’ve gone through a lot to come all the way here. As you know, my schedule is too tight for me to go out.”

“Of course. I’m fine. It’s actually nice to visit the station again after so long.”

I offered polite words and sat down on the sofa in the center of his office.

He stood up and walked over to the coffee machine.

Not long after, he placed a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of me.

“My wife’s been making a fuss, asking why Announcer Yoon isn’t appearing on the 9 p.m. news anymore.”

“It’s been a while since I last saw Mrs. Director.”

The Director’s wife was the daughter of the president of a W Group affiliate—and also a distant relative of mine.

Because of that, we’d known each other for a while and occasionally shared meals together.

After my leave, we’d lost touch completely—it felt like centuries had passed since our last conversation.

“Isn’t an announcer happiest when on air?”

“That’s right.”

I responded with a faint smile to his sudden, pointed question and picked up the cup before me.

He clearly knew I hadn’t come just to catch up on old times.

Setting the cup back down, I gave a slight, knowing smile.

“That’s exactly why I wanted to see you.”

“…Hm?”

“Director, I want to work again.”

Returning from leave—this uncomfortable reason alone explained my presence here.

He might have tossed out the bait casually,

but when I snapped it up immediately, the Director stared at me wide-eyed, clearly taken aback.

“Will you approve my reinstatement?”

Instead of answering right away, the Director took a sip from his cup, observing me carefully.

Although officially on leave at the station, my status had been closer to a provisional resignation.

Knowing the truth behind my marriage, he seemed intent on deciphering my real motives, his eyes flickering with thought.

Then he placed his half-full cup back on the table.

“Reinstatement… Now that you mention it, it’s almost been a year since Announcer Yoon went on leave.”

“…”

“It’s about time you returned, isn’t it?”

Still uncertain of my true intentions, he stroked his chin and asked carefully,

“You’re thinking of returning as an announcer, right?”

The Director held considerable influence over anchor appointments—

which was precisely why I’d come to see him. Yet he deliberately mentioned “announcer,” not “anchor,”

as if the anchor position wasn’t even on his mind.

“Oh, come to think of it, we’re currently reorganizing a program and need a new reporter.”

“…”

“Actually, that program might suit Announcer Yoon’s image quite well.”

I paid no attention to the list of programs he was now enthusiastically describing.

Seeing me just stare blankly without responding, his eyes slowly widened.

“You couldn’t possibly be talking about the anchor position, could you?”

“I mean the anchor position. I want to return to News 9.”

As I made my intention clear once more, the Director grimaced and waved his hands dismissively.

“As an announcer, maybe—but there’s no opening for that position. You know that.”

His expression now showed genuine distress—the kind reserved for truly difficult situations.

“It’s not that I’m withholding a position that’s available. I’d love to work with Announcer Yoon again.”

Then, with a face full of regret, he offered only a perfunctory reply.

“…Isn’t Anchor Jeong retiring soon?”

I’d heard from an announcer peer that Anchor Jeong of News 9 was stepping down abruptly due to health issues.

And Seo Rin would surely aim for that vacancy.

“How did you find out about that? That position’s already been filled.”

The Director was surprised I knew—but then firmly shook his head, showing no intention to reconsider.

His firm stance suggested higher-ups had already made the decision.

“So it’s already settled—their chosen candidate.”

I hadn’t expected to get it that easily. True to Seo Ji Han’s nature, he’d clearly laid the groundwork meticulously in advance.

Moreover, Ho Jin Group was KBC’s largest shareholder, and a request from Ji Han—the heir—was practically a directive from the top shareholder himself.

To sway the Director, I’d need an ally whose influence matched Ji Han’s.

Just as I was pondering how to persuade him—

Knock knock.

A sudden knock sounded, and the office door opened shortly after.

“Who dares enter without permission…?”

“Long time no see.”

The Director, about to scold the intruder, abruptly cut himself off upon seeing who it was.

I, too, turned toward the door in surprise.

“Seo Ji Han… What are you doing here?”

I never expected Ji Han—dressed in a crisp suit—to show up personally at KBC.

“Representative Seo! What brings you here?”

“I was just passing by and decided to drop in—I had no idea she’d be here.”

Remembering his earlier rudeness, the Director quickly stood up to greet him.

As Ji Han took a seat at the Director’s invitation, his gaze turned toward me.

The flicker of surprise in his eyes upon seeing me vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by calm composure.

“What are you doing here?”

“What about you? What brings you to the broadcasting station?”

Then Ji Han asked me directly.

He wasn’t the type to visit the station in person—and even if he had business, there’d be no reason for him to see the Director.

That he’d come straight to the Director’s office struck me as deeply suspicious.

Then I remembered running into Seo Rin at the department store.

“Could it be…?”

My heart began pounding fiercely at the sudden thought.

“Did you really come here all because of Chae Seo Rin?”

I didn’t want to believe it—but aside from Chae Seo Rin, no one else could possibly move him like this.

Watching Ji Han speak calmly with the Director, I burned inside with rage.

“You’ve lost your mind. You’re insane.”

My gaze toward him turned icy cold.

Only the voices of Ji Han and the Director filled the office now.

[With the pleasantly clear air today, spring has truly arrived. Tomorrow will be even warmer than today.]

The Director must’ve been monitoring the broadcast—a gentle female voice drifted through the room.

The two men, deep in discussion over minor investment matters, abruptly stopped talking as the voice interrupted.

[Most places will see daytime highs above 16 degrees, making for a pleasantly warm day.]

In the sudden silence, Ji Han’s eyes shifted toward the TV behind the Director, drawn by the clearer voice.

Following his gaze, I saw Seo Rin delivering the weather forecast.

“Oh dear—I’m so sorry, Representative. I completely forgot to turn it off.”

“It’s fine. It’s not at all bothersome.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You’re also acquainted with Caster Chae Seo Rin, right? She and our Announcer Yoon were very close.”

Noticing Ji Han’s fixed gaze on the TV, the Director chuckled amiably and continued.

“Yeo Jin, of course—but Chae Seo Rin really is quite talented too.”

“So she’s one of your division’s rising stars? You must be pleased to have so much talent under you.”

“Ha ha. Indeed.”

Though he spoke casually, as if indifferent, the depth of his hidden emotions was unmistakable.

This wasn’t the first time I’d felt betrayed—but again, my breath caught in my throat.

A storm of emotions swept over me.

The man once my husband now loved not me, but my closest junior colleague.

“How much more do you intend to humiliate me?”

The profound affection Ji Han held for Seo Rin, evident deep in his eyes,

was utterly clear to me—even if the Director remained oblivious.

To keep my wavering mind from drifting away, I clenched and unclenched my fists repeatedly.

Though this wasn’t new information, the suffocating frustration felt as if my insides were burning.

“Oh, right—Mrs. Representative mentioned reinstatement for Announcer Yoon.”

“Reinstatement?”

Ji Han frowned at the Director’s sudden mention of reinstatement.

His eyes sharpened as he picked up his cup, seemingly having just learned something unexpected—

prompting the Director to ask in surprise,

“You didn’t know? I assumed you’d discussed this beforehand with the Representative… Yoon Ah-na, was this supposed to be a secret?”

The Director looked at me with an awkward, troubled expression, as if whispering.

Ji Han, who’d been silently observing, slammed his cup down roughly.

“She’s going to become part of the Ho Jin family—becoming an anchor is out of the question.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. Ha ha. What’s going on here?”

The Director forced an awkward laugh and whispered toward me again,

“And isn’t that position already decided?”

Realizing his misstep, the Director’s smile gradually faded.

Indeed, as Ji Han said, the successor to Anchor Jeong had already been chosen by upper management.

“An anchor may look good on screen, but it’s a position fraught with harsh criticism and endless rumors.”

Though speaking to the Director, Ji Han’s gaze was fixed on me.

His heavy stare slowly pressed down on me.

“I don’t want the person I care about enduring hardship.”

“…”

“I want her to stay peaceful, under my protection, for a long time.”

I barely managed to suppress the sigh rising in my throat.

I loathed that man’s lips—how shamelessly he lied without a flicker of change in his eyes.

The clueless Director, meanwhile, seemed genuinely moved by Ji Han’s seemingly heartfelt words.

Only I understood the hidden meaning behind them.

“As you know, she’s someone deeply passionate about her work and tends to push herself too hard.”

“Of course. We all know how much our Anchor Yoon Yeo Jin loves her job.”

Trying to smooth over what he’d just said to avoid hurting Ji Han’s feelings, the Director readily agreed.

“But some things simply can’t be allowed.”

Intimidated by Ji Han’s suddenly sharp glare, the Director shrank back.

Even the seasoned Director couldn’t move under that piercing stare.

“If she tries to overexert herself from now on, I trust you’ll stop her, Director.”

“Ha ha ha! Absolutely! I care deeply for Announcer Yoon—I’ll certainly do that.”

Ji Han’s previously stiff expression relaxed as if nothing had happened.

Seemingly satisfied with the Director’s prompt answer, a faint smile finally spread across his face.

***

After exchanging trivialities, I left the Director’s office.

Once the door shut behind us, Ji Han’s demeanor changed drastically.

“Follow me.”

Without even glancing back, he tossed out that cold command.

He remained utterly silent as we walked down the corridor toward the central elevator bank.

Passing through the main entrance, I felt the outside air hit me all at once.

Only then, with the cool breeze, did I feel like I could breathe again.

He’d been silent the entire way out of the station—but suddenly turned to face me.

His sharp eyes bore into me.

He must’ve learned from someone else that I wanted reinstatement—and it had clearly displeased him.

When I gave no reaction, he furrowed his brow.

Staring at me with eyes deeper and more intense than before, Ji Han asked quietly,

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”