CHAPTER 6 — THE BILLIONAIRE WHO MISSED HER FIRST WORD
CHAPTER 6 — THE BILLIONAIRE WHO MISSED HER FIRST WORD
The conference room no longer felt like a legal office.
It felt like a funeral.
Only nobody had died.
Instead...
Five years had.
Joon looked at the DNA report for a long time.
Too long.
His breathing became uneven.
His hands trembled almost imperceptibly.
He wasn't looking at percentages anymore.
He was counting memories.
Or rather...
The memories he never got to have.
First smile.
First laugh.
First steps.
First birthday.
First scraped knee.
First day of preschool.
First nightmare.
First Christmas morning.
First word.
Five years.
Gone.
Stolen.
Not by strangers.
By his own family.
He suddenly asked without looking up,
"What was her first word?"
The question landed softly.
Yet somehow became the heaviest sentence spoken all morning.
Elena blinked.
"What?"
"Her first word."
Silence.
He finally raised his eyes.
"What did she say first?"
Elena swallowed.
A sad smile appeared.
"'Up.'"
Joon frowned.
"'Up?'"
Elena nodded.
"She wanted me to carry her all the time."
A tiny laugh escaped through her tears.
"Everywhere."
"Kitchen."
"Bathroom."
"Grocery store."
"'Up.'"
Joon smiled.
Just barely.
Then asked,
"When did she start walking?"
"Ten months."
"What does she like?"
"Dinosaurs."
"What food?"
"Kimchi fried rice."
He blinked.
"Really?"
"She says yours tastes better."
He looked confused.
"I've never cooked for her."
Elena smiled sadly.
"You taught me."
Another memory surfaced.
Tiny apartment.
Sunday afternoon.
Joon insisting kimchi needed more butter.
Elena insisting butter was a crime.
They argued for twenty minutes.
Then laughed until the rice burned.
Yuna suddenly interrupted.
"I like Mommy's better."
Everyone looked toward her.
She smiled proudly.
"But if you're my daddy..."
She tilted her head.
"...maybe yours is yummy too."
The room laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough to release years of tension.
Even the attorneys smiled.
Joon slowly walked toward Elena.
No guards followed.
No lawyers interrupted.
He stopped only a few feet away.
"I owe you..."
His voice broke.
"...more apologies than one lifetime can hold."
Elena looked at him quietly.
"I know."
"I failed both of you."
"Yes."
"I should have fought harder."
"You should have."
Neither softened the truth.
Neither avoided it.
That honesty somehow mattered more than forgiveness.
Joon lowered his head.
"I can't ask you to forgive me."
"You can't."
"I don't deserve it."
"No."
Silence.
Then Elena quietly added,
"But..."
His eyes lifted.
"You deserve the truth."
She slowly reached into her brown leather bag.
Opened a small zippered pocket.
Removed an old photograph.
Edges worn.
Corners faded.
The same kitchen.
The same cracked silver watch.
The same young couple laughing over burned rice.
She handed it to him.
"I kept it."
Joon stared.
"You said..."
"...that one day our child should know her father wasn't born wearing a suit."
He remembered saying that.
He had completely forgotten.
Elena never had.
He carefully held the old photograph.
For the first time in years...
The billionaire mafia boss cried.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just silent tears falling onto a picture that had survived when his family almost hadn't.
Across the room, little Yuna slipped her tiny hand into both of theirs.
Without asking.
Without thinking.
As though it had always belonged there.
May you like
And for one brief, fragile moment...
The broken family looked exactly the way it was always meant to.
