Bang!

Sang-jong Lee, having come up to the second floor, slammed the door hard enough to break it.

"Honey. The painting. That…"

"What about the painting?"

When Sang-jong Lee shouted in a voice laced with irritation, Min-yeong Oh flinched for a moment.

Because she knew better than anyone what sort of mood Sang-jong Lee was in just now.

Min-yeong Oh read his face for a moment and then opened her mouth carefully.

"The painting… we have to sell that, don't we."

"Is it that you brought it from your family home, and now you're loath to part with it?"

"Oh, come. It isn't as though we're going to boil the painting and eat it as soup — what's there to be loath about?"

"Then what is it you're loath about?"

"It isn't that…"

Min-yeong Oh hesitated, and then spoke in a low voice.

"We need money urgently just now. That's why I was going to sell the painting."

At Min-yeong Oh's words, Sang-jong Lee, who had been venting his irritation, said nothing at all, his face drawn into a frown.

Because he too knew perfectly well what it was Min-yeong Oh's words meant.

Min-yeong Oh, seeing Sang-jong Lee looking as though he was listening to her, opened her mouth again.

"Secretary Park asked for money, didn't he? To get that money together there was nothing for it but to sell the painting."

"Enough."

Sang-jong Lee waved a hand and walked over to a chair and sat.

Min-yeong Oh, wearing an expression that said she did not understand, sat down opposite him.

"Enough — what do you mean, enough?"

"Is money what matters right now?"

Sang-jong Lee frowned and looked at Min-yeong Oh, and spoke.

"Didn't you hear what Father said? If we hadn't handed over the painting, he'd have dragged me out of the president's seat at Ilhyeon Construction."

Sang-jong Lee called to mind what had happened a short while before and clenched his back teeth.

"He led Seong-ho on, none too subtly, to wish for me to be pulled down. And that Seong-ho fellow meant to finish it with…