Min-jae’s heart pounded as he was ushered out of the airport terminal, his arms firmly held by the two security guards flanking him. The city of Seoul, once a place where he had freely roamed in his arrogance, now felt suffocating—heavy with the weight of the past he had tried so desperately to escape. His body screamed to break free, but the grip of the guards was unyielding, and his father’s iron resolve left him with little chance of resistance.

As they approached the sleek black limousine waiting outside, Min-jae’s mind flashed back to the days when he used to be driven in luxury, surrounded by sycophants who fawned over his every move. But that person—the spoiled, entitled heir who had cared for nothing but pleasure and indulgence—felt like a distant memory, a ghost of someone he no longer recognized.

Tae-hyun led the way, his stride unhurried, as if this was a matter of course. Min-jae had no choice but to follow, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to resist, to fight this, to turn back. He had worked so hard, reinvented himself from the ground up—why was his father so determined to drag him back into this gilded cage?

As the doors of the limousine closed behind him, the suffocating reality of his situation hit. Min-jae stared out the tinted windows, watching the city pass by in a blur, his mind reeling. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, each one heavier than the last. Part of him longed to return to the U.S., to the life he had fought for with everything he had. But another part of him felt a deep, hollow ache in the pit of his stomach. He hated the weakness, the helplessness he felt in his father’s presence. The same father who had always treated him like a pawn in his grand game, never once allowing him to make his own decisions.

Back at the Kang estate, the family was waiting for him. His mother, Kang Ji-yoon, stood at the top of the grand staircase, her eyes wide with disbelief. Min-jae had been a ghost to her for four long years, and now, here he was, not the son she remembered but someone completely unrecognizable. She had seen the pictures the investigators had taken, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality.

When the limousine pulled into the driveway, Min-jae’s younger sister, Soo-bin, was the first to step forward. Her usual sharp-tongued banter was absent, replaced with a stunned silence. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this was certainly not it. Min-jae’s transformation was jarring—his once soft, rounded features now chiseled, his posture straight and confident, his eyes hard and distant. He looked like a stranger.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that shocked them—it was the way he carried himself. The boy who had once flitted from one indulgence to the next, with no care for anyone or anything, now exuded a cold, almost dangerous air. It was as if he had shed everything—his past, his family, and even his own emotions.

As Min-jae was escorted into the grand foyer, his family watched him with a mix of disbelief and awe. His mother couldn’t suppress a gasp, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. She had always been the one who indulged him, who softened the blows of Tae-hyun’s harshness. But now, it was as if that son, the one she knew and loved, was gone—replaced by someone who seemed completely indifferent to her.

“Min-jae...” Ji-yoon whispered, her voice breaking. “What happened to you?”

But Min-jae didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his body rigid. He had no intention of playing the role of the dutiful son, not anymore. Not after everything he had worked for.

His father stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension in the air. “This is where you belong, Min-jae. Your place is here, with the family. Stop trying to run from your responsibilities.”

Min-jae didn’t respond, though the words gnawed at him. He wanted to scream, to tell his father that he was no longer the same person—that he had built something on his own, far away from this suffocating world. But the silence hung between them like a thick fog, and his throat tightened, the words unable to break free.

Soo-bin took a step forward, her sharp eyes scanning him, trying to find some trace of the brother she had once known. “You look... different. Not just on the outside. What happened to you?”

Min-jae glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “I’m not the same person anymore, Soo-bin. Don’t expect me to be.”

The words stung, and Soo-bin recoiled, her face flushing with a mix of confusion and hurt. But Min-jae didn’t care. He didn’t have the energy to care about their reactions anymore. He had spent four years building a life that was his, free from their expectations and suffocating rules. And now, he was back—against his will, dragged by the same people who had always tried to control him.

His mother reached out to him, her trembling hand hovering in the air. “Min-jae, please... come back. We’ve missed you. You don’t have to be this way.”

But her words felt hollow. Min-jae’s gaze drifted to the grand staircase, the opulence of the estate stretching out before him. Everything here—the wealth, the power, the legacy—was nothing but a gilded cage. He didn’t want it. He didn’t need it.

“I’m not coming back, Mother,” he said quietly, the words heavy with finality. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Tae-hyun’s face hardened. “You’ll learn, Min-jae. You’ll learn that you can’t escape what you are.”

Min-jae looked at him then, his eyes colder than ice. “I’ve already learned that, Father. And I’ve learned something else too—that I don’t owe anyone anything.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked up the stairs without another word. As he reached the top, he paused, his back still turned to his family. The longing to return to the U.S. was overwhelming, the ache in his chest unbearable. But he couldn’t go back—not yet. The cage was closing in on him again, and all he could do was brace himself for whatever came next.

It didn’t matter that his body had changed, that he had transformed into someone unrecognizable. The truth was, Min-jae didn’t know who he was anymore. He had erased everything that once defined him, and now he was nothing but a stranger in his own skin.

He wished he could go back to the life he had built—the life where he was in control, where he could drown out the noise of his past. But here, surrounded by the family that had never understood him, all he could do was try to endure.