The Omega Is Pregnant-Chapter 100

“Thank you for participating in the interview. We’ll be in touch again.”

As Reporter Park Soo-hee began packing up her laptop and other belongings, the red light on the camera turned off as well. With the clean wrap-up, Kang Se-heon took a breath and regained his composure before picking up his phone. While checking the messages and emails from his secretary, he heard Chairman Kang Hak-jung clear his throat.

“Did Tae-seo say there was anything he wanted?”

“You talk to Tae-seo all the time—why are you asking me?”

Ever since the Chairman had been the first to bring up the fetal movement, Kang Se-heon had suspected just how frequently the two had been speaking.

“Well, I only answered when Tae-seo called me once in a while.”

“You never called him first?”

Chairman Kang Hak-jung turned his gaze away, pretending to straighten his clothes. That alone was enough of an answer, so Se-heon didn’t press further. If Tae-seo had been calling him unwillingly, he might’ve said something—but it didn’t seem like that was the case.

“I’m sure you know this already from reading all those books, but once you're expecting, you start getting sleepy a lot. So just in case...”

Kang Se-heon’s sentence cut off mid-thought. It was because of a short message from Tae-seo. He confirmed the timestamp, and his brow furrowed.

Tae-seo had sent him a photo and a location.

There’d been no other contact since. And that silence was exactly what set Se-heon on edge. He immediately tried calling Tae-seo, but all he got was the automated message that the line was busy.

“When was the last time you spoke with Tae-seo?”

“This morning. He said he was going out to look at baby supplies.”

Sensing the shift in Se-heon’s expression, Chairman Kang Hak-jung answered without resistance.

If it were just a shopping trip, it wouldn’t be a concern. But the unusual message gnawed at Se-heon’s nerves.

“I’ll excuse myself.”

As Se-heon left the café while speaking rapidly into his phone, Chairman Kang Hak-jung’s wrinkled eyes followed his grandson’s empty seat. Something had definitely happened.

Receiving support from the secretary who’d appeared at his side, Chairman Kang mentioned the name that had come to mind.

“Find out what Soo-hak is up to.”

“Understood.”

It might be nothing to suddenly think of his second son at a time like this—but he didn’t take the words back once they’d left his mouth.

****

Upon arriving at the department store, Kang Se-heon headed straight to the floor that sold baby products. Walking the familiar path he had followed when accompanying Tae-seo, he searched for the baby shoes in the photo Tae-seo had sent. And the moment he spotted the identical shoes, he asked the nearest employee:

“Did a man who looked like this come in?”

It was quicker to show the photo than to describe Tae-seo. He held it out toward the employee, and after a brief look, she nodded.

“Yes, he did. He comes by occasionally, just to browse, so I remembered him. But today was a little different. He asked me to watch for anyone suspicious.”

The employee detailed what had happened earlier. As expected, Se-heon’s sense of unease had been right.

Just as he was about to lift his head and start walking around to find Tae-seo, the employee who had just been speaking to him suddenly ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ stopped him.

“After he told me about the suspicious person, a few men followed him. I can’t say for sure, but it’s rare for men to move around in groups on this floor, so I thought it might be related.”

Her voice dropped noticeably.

“Just now, someone passed by too. It looked like they were scanning the area.”

“Are they still here?”

At Se-heon’s question, the employee looked around and shook her head.

“They passed by this area a few times, but I don’t see them now. Still, if we wait, maybe they’ll come back?”

She offered a suggestion, trying to be helpful in her own way—but for Kang Se-heon, who needed to find Tae-seo immediately, it didn’t help at all.

His phone vibrated in his tightly clenched hand, and without even checking the caller ID, he answered.

[He’s not at home.]

The confirmation from his secretary made Kang Se-heon scan the surroundings.

Tae-seo had disappeared. Realizing that fact brought the fury he’d been holding back dangerously close to the surface. He couldn’t be certain who was behind it—but he prayed it wasn’t the person his mind was picturing.

After instructing the secretary to come to him, he ended the call and began retracing the situation step by step.

It wouldn’t be hard for someone interested in Tae-seo to find out that he visited here often. But only someone who also knew that Se-heon was unavailable during his interview would know he couldn’t be reached.

As if responding to Se-heon’s thoughts narrowing in on a suspect, his phone rang again. He glanced at the name on the screen, and a flash of coldness passed through his eyes.

[I have something to say.]

Even a surprise call wasn’t enough—Han Mi-sun’s confident voice went straight to the point. After saying her piece, she hung up without giving him a chance to respond. A moment later, a message arrived with the location.

Without looking back, Se-heon walked out.

A beat too late, the suspicious man reappeared—and the employee, now tense from the atmosphere, spotted him and let out a helpless sigh.

****

Even in the worst-case scenario—that Tae-seo’s phone had been turned off—Kang Se-heon pressed the accelerator without a single expression. The tips of his fingers on the steering wheel scratched at it every time he came to a stop, but it wasn’t out of panic. Right now, Kang Se-heon was doing his utmost to conserve energy and stay rational, instead of wasting it on useless emotion.

He remembered the time he’d met Han Mi-sun at the café where Tae-seo had gone for his interview. Back then, he’d been uneasy, afraid something might happen to Tae-seo—but once he’d confirmed he was safe, he’d let his guard down. And now the consequence of not cutting things off at the root from the start was tightening around his neck.

Se-heon parked the car, slipped his phone into his pocket, and walked into the building.

The place Han Mi-sun had summoned him to was a vacant office inside a newly constructed building. His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway. The raw sound scraped along the corridor, impossible to conceal from anyone nearby. Pushing past the half-open door, Kang Se-heon stepped inside.

In the middle of the empty office sat a large sofa. And there, seated as if nothing were unusual, was Han Mi-sun—composed, proud, her face unable to fully hide the greed behind it.

“You’re here.”

“What did you call me for?”

“So busy, are you? And yet you couldn’t manage even a simple greeting?”

Han Mi-sun gave him a sideways glare and scolded him. Even as a child, he hadn’t acted like this. Se-heon met her gaze. There was scolding in her voice, but he knew that tone was all manufactured emotion.

“Well, you’ve never been the type to greet people properly, have you... You’ve always been arrogant. Conceited.”

She shook her head, delivering her cutting judgment of him.

“Do you know how disgusting it’s been to watch you act like the world revolves around you?”

Even with that sigh-laced resentment in her voice, Kang Se-heon remained silent. He’d long known about her jealousy. She’d always compared herself to his family, eating herself alive. And now she’d finally bared her claws.

“It was humiliating enough being beneath your uncle’s family. But to also have to walk on eggshells around you? Is there any greater injustice?”

Han Mi-sun absently fiddled with her fingernails. She must’ve had them done this morning—they sparkled more than usual. Yes, this was her life: the kind of life where more people watched her expression than she ever had to watch theirs.

That’s why she cared so much about how she looked to others.

She didn’t even seem to realize the way she had casually referred to “your uncle’s family.” Whether she was aware she’d already acknowledged she was losing was unclear. But she had said it—“your uncle’s family.”

Kang Se-heon’s eyes narrowed, then returned to normal.

“Is that why you called me here?”

He cut off the way she kept circling around the point. His gaze scanned the office. There was nothing—no place to hide anyone.

“Yes, yes. You’re busy, and here I am, selfishly going on.”

If it were any other day, Han Mi-sun would’ve been offended. But today, she let it slide with grace.

“You asked, so I’ll answer.”

Finally, she got to the point.

“I want you to scrap the new product launch.”

Even though Se-heon didn’t react, Han Mi-sun kept talking.

“Just say it’s defective. You can figure out the reasoning yourself.”

She spoke lightly, but if it really came to that, the damage would be catastrophic. Admitting a defect would mean lawsuits at best and guaranteed compensation. Yet Han Mi-sun only smiled innocently. She looked like she’d enjoy every second of it if that day came.

“Get the product pulled, and you’ll step down from your position.”

If she could bring down Kang Se-heon, the smartphone currently launching at Wonha would dominate the market. Then the losses her husband faced would vanish, and there’d be no need to go begging to Chairman Kang Hak-jung.

Naturally, her husband wouldn’t have to leave the country either.

From the start, the solution had been simple: take down just Kang Se-heon. And yet she’d wept and wailed about being abandoned by her father-in-law. There was no need to drag her husband into it. The solution was so easy, it was almost laughable.

Now, it was time to hear Se-heon’s response.

“Did you call me here to ask me for a favor?”

With one word—“favor”—he condensed everything she’d just said. Han Mi-sun’s face stiffened but quickly relaxed again. She held the winning hand in this negotiation; there was no need to fall for such a provocation. Hell, maybe Se-heon was trying to rile her up on purpose. Thinking that way, her smile deepened.

“Let’s call it a negotiation.”

“A negotiation disguised as a threat. And what card do you think you’re holding, Mother?”

Though Se-heon stood with his arms crossed, projecting calm, Han Mi-sun’s smile only grew sharper. It was the look of someone who knew all too well that he was pretending—that even though he acted composed, he was fully aware that Tae-seo had disappeared.