‘Why Her?’ Murder, Lies, Corporate Crime and One Iconic Lawyer Making Bad Love Choices
‘Why Her?’ is what happens when a girlboss lawyer refuses to stay down, no matter how many men try to bury her.
Korean Drama Name: 왜 오수재인가 (Why Oh Soo Jae?)
Where To Watch: Netflix, Hulu, Viki, Apple TV+ ← *Click for direct link*
Average Rating: 8.1/10 (Mydramalist)
My Rating: 8.0/10
One Sentence Description: ‘Why Her?’ follows Oh Soo Jae — a brilliant lawyer turned professor — as she fights corruption, old secrets, and questionable romance.
Trailer:
Disclaimer: This review is 100% my opinion — I’m not here to hate, just to share my thoughts! Also, SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution if you haven’t watched yet. Watch it, come back and let’s see if you agree. Let’s keep the discussion respectful and fun! 💕
CONTENT WARNING: I hope you’ve already seen this show and know what the deal is. But in case you don’t, I felt like I should add in a little warning. This show has heavy mentions of suicide, sexual assault, and death (Including the death of a child). And since this is a review, I do also talk about this (in relation to the show only). Please be aware of that before you continue and be mindful of it. Stay safe ❤️
Simple Description
‘Why Her?’ follows a top lawyer who’s accused of murder, banished to a college classroom, and uses her students to help clear her name… all while falling in love with one of them.
⚠️Length Note: This post includes a detailed (and long) story breakdown. Want to skip straight to the review? Jump to the Review
The drama opens with Oh Soo Jae, top-tier attorney and TK Law Firm’s star player, standing in a bathroom, wiping blood off her face. Okay then.
Flash back to firm boss Choi Tae Kook discussing business dealings with Soo Jae and another lawyer. Enter Assemblyman Lee In Soo, not pleased about being exposed for mocking poor people. He wants it covered up. Soo Jae delivers, with lawyerly precision and not a speck of remorse.
The next morning, Soo Jae shows up in the outfit from the first scene. Tension? Delivered. Tae Kook hands her a new case: Assemblyman An Kang Won, accused of rape. Soo Jae handles the situation like the powerhouse she is, demolishing the accuser, So Young.
Later, as Soo Jae leaves the building, a woman suddenly falls from the top floor and lands on the glass canopy right in front of her. Blood everywhere. Soo Jae looks closer: it’s So Young.
A few days later, Soo Jae puts nosy reporters in their place, storms into a board meeting, and calls everyone out. They want to fire her to save face, but she reminds them TK Law Firm is her. True, but it rattles Tae Kook.
He invites her to a meal and “suggests” she take a break and teach at a university. She refuses so he forces her, threatening her with So Young’s death.
Class kicks off at Seojung Law School with no teacher in sight. A law student, Gong Chan, shows up late, out of breath, and just in time to wait around with everyone else. Then Soo Jae walks in, writes “Never let my client end up in prison” on the board, and walks right back out. Iconic.
We flash back to a much younger Gong Chan, in a prison uniform, sitting across from a young Soo Jae. Assuming she won’t believe his side of the story, he tells her to get lost and throws a tantrum. She stops him mid-way to calmly say she does believe him. He breaks down in tears. Back in the present, Gong Chan remembers her but she has no idea who he is.
Later, Chan walks home and we get another flashback: younger Chan running around in the rain, desperately looking for his sister. He finds her shoe at a construction site and discovers her unconscious and covered in blood. While trying to get help, he’s knocked out cold. He’s been accused of her murder ever since; serving 10 years for it (more on that later).
Meanwhile, Soo Jae refuses to accept her forced “break” and keeps digging through some Hansu documents she stole for leverage. Back at TK Law Firm, she’s swiftly replaced by Choi Joo Wan, Tae Kook’s son, as Managing Partner. Back at the university, Soo Jae splits her class into eight groups and just so happens to supervise Group Eight, which includes Gong Chan. Small world.
We learn that Gong Chan is actually Kim Dong Gu. After getting out of prison, he changed his name to start over. He even lives with his old cellmates, a tiny support system wrapped in past trauma.
Later, Soo Jae joins the university’s legal clinic, which provides pro bono legal support. The school’s director invites them for lunch, but drama follows. Outside the building, a schoolgirl confronts Soo Jae, calling her a murderer. The girl is So Young’s younger sister, who firmly believes Soo Jae drove her sibling to suicide. Soo Jae doesn’t flinch, she fires back, blaming So Young’s own family for her death, and walks off while the girl continues shouting. Whew.
In the present, Tae Kook gives us a flashback: his son Joo Wan, alongside two other heirs, stands over an unconscious girl. His friends throw blame around while Tae Kook, ever the picture of villainy, physically beats his son. Tired of being manipulated by Hansu Bio’s chairman and the Assemblyman, Tae Kook urges Joo Wan to retrieve the confidential Hansu documents Soo Jae snagged at the beginning of the show. They need leverage and fast.
Meanwhile, So Young’s younger sister Ji Young gets arrested for So Young’s murder. Soo Jae takes on her defense and learns So Young was four weeks pregnant at the time of her death. Suspicious doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Group Eight (aka Soo Jae’s unofficial investigation squad) tracks down a mukbang streamer who unknowingly caught the murder on camera, specifically a man in a suit pushing So Young off the rooftop. With the footage secured, Ji Young is cleared of all charges. Meanwhile, Soo Jae and Gong Chan keep getting closer — way closer than a professor and student should. Lines are blurring fast.
Then comes the emotional sledgehammer: Soo Jae once got pregnant after a one-night stand with Joo Wan, Tae Kook’s son. Tae Kook promised her a fairytale ending: marriage in New York, Joo Wan joining her shortly, happy family vibes. Instead, Joo Wan ghosted her, she delivered a stillborn, and Tae Kook married his son off to someone else. Alone, grieving, and betrayed, Soo Jae slit her wrists and called Tae Kook. He coldly told her to return to Korea and work for him. That moment lit the fuse and her quiet vow for revenge was born.
Back in the present, Soo Jae uncovers Tae Kook’s dirty laundry of fraudulent accounts, all in her name. She demands 70 billion won to keep quiet. And honestly? That’s the kind of compensation we love to see.
Tae Kook, delusional as ever, suggests that Joo Wan marry Soo Jae once his divorce finalizes. Soo Jae meets Joo Wan’s wife, who casually drops that the child everyone thinks is hers… isn’t.
While Soo Jae deals with that, her student team keeps working on the So Young case. They narrow down the father of So Young’s baby to three possible men: Hansu Bio’s Chairman Han Seung Beom, Assemblyman Lee In Soo, or TK Law Firm’s Chairman Choi Tae Kook. The three besties of this entire mess.
The web of corruption deepens as we meet Kang Eun Seo, a female patient at a mental health facility with ties to both Jin Ki (the school director) and Yoon Se Pil (chairman of SP Partner). It’s revealed that Eun Seo was sexually assaulted the night she sustained the injuries that led to her current condition. Tragic and heartbreaking, but not random. Not in this story.
Time jumps a bit, and Soo Jae meets Se Pil for dinner at Gong Chan’s restaurant. Se Pil casually drops that his life goal is to destroy Tae Kook, Assemblyman In Soo, and Chairman Seung Beom. Right then, he gets a call from Jin Ki which immediately raises Soo Jae’s eyebrows. Why would these two even be in contact? Se Pil reveals he was engaged to Jin Ki’s daughter, Kang Eun Seo. So the woman hidden away in that mental facility is his fiancée. Suspicion instantly grows: did Tae Kook, In Soo, and Seung Beom have something to do with what happened to Eun Seo?
Se Pil later explains he’s planning to buy an old Seung Beom-owned house that might hold some answers. Why? Because the night Eun Seo was assaulted, she’d run out of that very house while being chased by three men and eventually be hit by a car.
Across town at a Hansu Bio construction site, a work accident leaves employees injured and missing. When they finally recover a missing worker, they also uncover a skeleton buried right beside him. On the skeleton’s wrist? A charm bracelet. Gong Chan reads about it in the news and immediately recognizes it — it’s just like the bracelets his sister made for him and their family. Could it be her? The possibility that this is her body sends him reeling.
Chan visits the funeral home in search of answers and bumps into Director Baek. And boom: we learn that Chan’s sister helped Eun Seo the night of her assault just before her murder. The connections between Chan, Eun Seo, and the three powerful men start snapping into place like puzzle pieces.
The truth about Eun Seo’s assault finally starts to surface. Her drink was spiked at a club, and she was taken to a house—yes, the same one Se Pil now owns. She was assaulted by three guys, escaped and stumbled into Chan’s sister, who was working at a convenience store nearby. Chan’s sister protected her, giving her a jacket before the three men (the sons of the elite trio: Lee Si Hyuk, Han Dong O, and Choi Joo Wan) showed up and chased her. Eun Seo was eventually hit by a car, and Chan’s sister? The only witness. Which meant she couldn’t be allowed to leave.
So… did the golden boys murder her?
Jin Ki confesses all this and Soo Jae goes off by calling him out and everyone else for calmly coexisting with the very people who assaulted his daughter and Se Pil’s fiancée.
Eventually, Soo Jae confronts Tae Kook and lays out everything she’s dug up about his precious son. For a second, it looks like she’s won… until Tae Kook drops the most brutal truth bomb yet. He throws test results in her face: the child she thought was Joo Wan’s with his wife? Actually hers. She never had a stillbirth, Tae Kook lied and took her baby.
After confirming through her own test that the girl, Jae Yi, really is her daughter, Soo Jae storms back into Tae Kook’s office, doubling down. Now she wants the 70 billion plus full custody of her daughter and full control of TK Law Firm. Tae Kook laughs in her face… until Soo Jae laughs right back and drops her trump card: she knows he killed So Young. She has proof that So Young’s baby was his and video evidence that he pushed her off that balcony. The tables officially turn.
She walks off triumphant and heads to Chan’s restaurant, only to get the worst phone call of her life: Jae Yi is missing. She finds the girl picking flowers, sweet and unaware. As they cross the street, Jae Yi rushes ahead and is hit by a truck. Soo Jae’s world shatters. Her daughter dies.
Tae Kook blames Soo Jae. The men who caused so much pain line up to destroy her reputation, revoke her license, and erase her once and for all.
But she’s not done.
In court, Soo Jae defends herself with precision. When she shows up for the disciplinary hearing, the board finds her not guilty of some charges, but more hearings loom. So Soo Jae and her team go to work. That night, Il Ku’s son dies. Tae Kook doesn’t blink and just tells Il Ku to take the fall for everything. And that’s the last straw.
At the next hearing, Tae Kook’s camp tries to pin So Young’s death on Soo Jae but she flips the script. She exposes Tae Kook as the murderer and calls a surprise witness: Il Ku. Turns out Il Ku secretly recorded Tae Kook pushing So Young and kept the video as insurance. But he doesn’t stop there, he spills every dirty secret, including the truth about Chan’s sister’s murder. Il Ku had a hidden camera back then too, capturing Tae Kook giving the order to blame it on innocent Gong Chan.
While this courtroom circus explodes, Se Pil holds a press conference exposing the three golden boys, Lee Si Hyuk, Han Dong O, and Choi Joo Wan, for raping and assaulting Eun Seo. Soo Jae walks out innocent. Tae Kook is fully cornered.
That night, Tae Kook, having lost everything, downs a bottle of pills and liquor and dies alone. Seung Beom and In Soo scramble to distance themselves. Seung Beom puts all the blame on Tae Kook, while In Soo tries begging for forgiveness from the public.
Six months later, Soo Jae is back to teaching at the university and runs her own firm — this time on her terms. Jin Ki rots in prison for bribery, Se Pil stays in the fight for justice, and Soo Jae has finally burned TK Law Firm’s chokehold to the ground.
The show closes with Soo Jae and Gong Chan walking under an umbrella, side by side. A mess of moral grey? Absolutely. But at least the rain is finally gone.
The End.
The Review
The Good
A Plot That Actually Held Up in Court
This story? Genuinely captivating. For a 16-episode legal drama with revenge, corruption, murder, and romance, it never lost momentum. The pacing had purpose, and every episode gave just enough to keep you hooked without tipping its hand too soon. When a drama leans into its own complexity and still keeps the viewer locked in? That’s not just good writing, it’s a rare achievement.
Truth Served Hot, Not Cold
We didn’t have to wait 12 episodes for some flashback monologue or shaky confession scene. When things got messy (like Soo Jae and So Young’s rooftop video), we immediately saw the real story. Same with Soo Jae’s pregnancy trauma. No long-winded buildup, no fakeouts. And the best part? The reveals were strategically placed and interconnected. It’s so much better when the truth is revealed when it actually matters— especially when keeping it hidden wouldn’t add anything. Secrets only matter if they add weight to the plot and Why Her? knew when to spill and when to simmer.
Oh Soo Jae Was That Girl
From the very first scene, Soo Jae walked in like the building owed her rent. Calculated, sharp, emotionally armoured and yet still deeply human. Whether she was wiping blood off her face, shutting down political pawns, or casually threatening billionaires, she never lost control. Even when her past was used against her, she refused to flinch. She wasn’t just a girlboss, she was the whole firm. A lead like that isn’t just likable, she carries the narrative.
Every Thread Wove the Same Tapestry
You have to respect a writer who remembers their own plot. The fact that Jin Ki’s daughter, Chan’s sister, the three spoiled sons, Se Pil, Hansu Bio — literally everything — tied back into the main plot was so satisfying. They didn’t leave us hanging with random side stories or forgotten subplots. Every loose end got resolved, every puzzle piece snapped into place. And let’s be honest, the only unanswered question was what we’re supposed to do with ourselves now that it’s over. And honestly? I’m okay with that.
The Bad
Oh Soo Jae: Girlboss… or Loyal Employee #457?
Let’s talk about that ending. After years of enduring Tae Kook’s manipulation, betrayal, and literal criminal coverups, Oh Soo Jae’s “final form” was a small firm and a university classroom? Sure, peace over power is valid, but it felt like she settled more than she triumphed. She walked straight into the lion’s den, vowed revenge, and then quietly filed paperwork for ten years instead. I wanted her at the top, exactly where Tae Kook never wanted her to be. She spent years doing every vile thing he ordered her to do, only for it to amount to… basically nothing.
What made it worse was the irony: she called Jin Ki out for his decade of silence while doing the exact same thing. For every shady favour, every elite coverup, every humiliation, she just kept nodding like it was part of the plan. Like he literally faked her child’s death. Hello?
Tae Kook called her a “loyal dog,” and while we hated it, the show didn’t exactly disprove it. The idea that she was waiting to gain more power only worked if she used that power. But until So Young’s case landed in her lap, she never did. She liked to say she never did anything that didn’t benefit her, but honestly? Half the things she did were just free labour for Tae Kook to keep stepping on her.
Even when she finally flipped the tables, it felt like circumstance did more of the work than her long-con strategy. Tae Kook never trusted her—he used her, discarded her, and wrote her name on fraudulent accounts like she was a folder in his filing cabinet. So when she gave up the head of TK, the goal she supposedly chased from the beginning? That wasn’t healing, it was whiplash.
Gong Chan: The Student Who Got Way Too Comfortable
Can we talk about how fast that romance happened? Soo Jae kissed Gong Chan in episode two like she wasn’t fully aware that he was her student. I don’t care how old he is, it’s the fact that he was her student. From the second he walked in, she should’ve been putting him in his place, but instead he barely had to do anything for her to fold. The fact that she kissed him by episode two had me staring at my screen like, “Wait, what?!”
Personally, I don’t even date guys a month younger than me (lol, joke). So watching a grown woman, a top lawyer no less, melt for her college student was just so hard to buy. At first, she at least tried to act like she had boundaries, but that didn’t last long. The minute he crossed the line — moving her documents to his house, telling her to sleep at his place — she should’ve shut that down. Instead? She’s passed out on his couch like that was normal.
And what made it crazier? An adult woman with a decade of trauma and enemies on every floor, choosing him as her emotional anchor? Not her best friend of ten+ years. Not any of her allies. A student who moved her legal files and casually invited her to play house during a murder investigation.
It got hard to take seriously when she started sharing her deepest secrets with him while brushing off everyone else. There’s closeness, and then there’s “this script needed a romantic lead and you’re conveniently nearby.” For a woman known for being calculating and guarded, she let her walls down with record-breaking speed.
Chan: Boundary Issues in a Cinnamon Roll Wrapper
There’s persistent, and then there’s Gong Chan. Every time he showed up uninvited, declared he was sleeping at her house, or forced his “support” during trauma cooldown moments, I couldn’t help but cringe. Soo Jae repeatedly told him he was crossing the line, yet he kept vaulting over it like it wasn’t even painted. It gave strong “I know what’s best for you even though you said no” energy. And that’s not romantic, it’s exhausting.
He didn’t respect her boundaries, and while Soo Jae eventually let him in, it doesn’t erase the manipulative undertone and the fact that he took advantage of every crisis. Taking advantage of someone’s emotional vulnerability, especially right after they’ve been through something traumatic, is a red flag wrapped in soft lighting and tragic piano music.
I just couldn’t stand how persistent and boundary-stomping he was and how the show expected us to swoon over it.
How Was Everyone Okay With The Teacher-Student Thing?
Let’s be blunt: it’s not just about age. It’s about power dynamics. Soo Jae was his professor. He called her “Ms. Oh.” She graded his papers. And she kissed him before midterms. That alone should have been enough for HR intervention or, at the very least, a serious conversation.
But nope. Everyone in the show either ignored it or actively encouraged it—except one guy, who was treated like he was the weird one for bringing it up. Living with your student and dating him is not “romantic defiance”, it’s workplace misconduct. Legal age isn’t a magical morality reset button, and I would’ve liked someone to treat the situation with actual concern.
How Did Chan Not Die?
Okay, so I know I said there were technically no plot holes, and there weren’t, but a few things still made zero sense. Like Chan getting hit by a truck. Full speed. On a deserted road. And he’s… fine? Not dead, not even in a coma. Just vibes.
I mean, yes, people do survive freak accidents, but come on. He got mowed down to cover up the last loose end but they never explained how he survived. It wasn’t a busy road where someone would find him right away. He didn’t have any dramatic hospital arc or long recovery. One episode he’s roadkill, next episode he’s up eating noodles like nothing happened. So… did it even happen? Who knows.
Jae Yi’s Death Felt Emotionally Manipulative
Same vibe here: Why did Jae Yi have to die? I’m still irritated about it. That plot twist did nothing except slap Soo Jae with extra pain for shock value. Either the baby should’ve stayed dead at birth, or Jae Yi should’ve stayed alive. Pick one.
Having her survive just so she could get hit by a truck out of nowhere was so unnecessary— especially since the accident itself made no sense. She looked both ways. It was a quiet road. The truck should’ve seen her from a mile away. Where did it even come from? Why did no one see it until the last second? The whole thing was tragic for no good reason, and it honestly knocked the show down to an 8/10 for me. Sometimes sad for the sake of sad just feels cheap and this was one of those times.
Soo Jae’s Arrhythmia: Plot Point or Lost Item?
When a character’s illness gets name-dropped early, it’s usually meant to add tension, vulnerability, or stakes. Soo Jae’s arrhythmia? Ghosted after one episode. They mentioned it, never circled back, and didn’t use it to heighten any moments of stress, court pressure, or trauma. It could’ve been used to show the toll her revenge plot was taking on her, or added urgency to confrontations with Tae Kook, but nope. It was there and then, it wasn’t. Next time, if you’re gonna give a character a heart condition, use it.
Chan’s Cellmates: Friendship by Vibes Only
Let’s break this down: Chan was in prison for allegedly murdering his own sister. So when two older cellmates decided to befriend him and help him build a new life… how did they just know he didn’t do it? I mean we knew he didn’t do it, but without knowing, how would you know? The evidence was mounting and he even said he did it during the prison tussle he got into. So what made them stop and think “I know he said he did it and all the evidence points to him, but I just know he didn’t do it”..? We got no backstory, no heart-to-heart, no “we’ve seen injustice before” bonding moment, just instant loyalty. Give us one scene. One conversation. One shared trauma. It would’ve added weight to their loyalty and made their friendship believable instead of random.
Money Is a Real Villain and That’s the Scariest Part
Honestly? The show felt almost too real in its depiction of elite corruption. What’s wild is that if you swapped out the names for real-life companies and politicians, you wouldn’t even blink. Coverups, false trials, bribery, buried evidence—it’s horrifying how plausible all of it is. The only thing that broke realism? That the rich people actually got exposed. Because in real life, they don’t always get courtroom monologues and public shame. They get settlements, NDAs, promotions, and vacations.
Justice Had Great Lighting, But No Teeth
I think what disappointed me most about the ending, besides Soo Jae’s half-baked “happy” ending, was that justice didn’t even feel properly served. When Tae Kook died, it wasn’t satisfying. It wasn’t earned. It was a sudden exit-stage-left that robbed the audience of watching him feel the consequences. I wanted to watch him crumble — lose every penny, lose every backer, lose every ounce of power, and rot in jail. But nope, he gets an off-screen, easy way out: just pills, whiskey, and fade to black.
And what happened to the rest of the villains? Chairman Seong Beom? Hansu Bio? Assemblyman In Soo? The show hinted they’d face fallout but never showed it. A little montage, a few news headlines, anything would’ve helped. I’m not playing the “Well maybe they did off-screen” game, if it didn’t happen on camera, it didn’t happen at all. That’s storytelling 101. So yeah, the ending didn’t hit nearly as hard as it could have, and it felt like it skipped the final chapter just to give Gong Chan and Soo Jae their umbrella moment. Cute. But not enough for a show this good.
What I Would Do
Oh Soo Jae: Shadow Boss, Not Shadow Puppet
This is a given, but in my version, Soo Jae wouldn’t be Tae Kook’s loyal dog for nothing. Over the years, she’d secretly build her own empire inside TK — quietly collecting dirt, allies, leverage — piece by piece, becoming the one lawyer he literally can’t function without. He still wouldn’t trust her fully (he shouldn’t), but he’d know that if she walked out, TK Law Firm would crumble overnight. Staff loyalty? Check. Strategic leverage? Check. Maybe she’s not managing partner on paper, but she’s the one everyone listens to.
Then, when So Young’s case explodes, that’s her trigger and her plan goes live. It wouldn’t be just happenstance that brings TK Law crumbling down, it’s the match she’s been soaking in gasoline for a decade. She’d orchestrate his unraveling like a courtroom symphony. No coincidences. Just a calculated, deliciously slow burn. And when it all collapses, she’ll stand there, smiling, as she reminds him it was always her pulling the strings. Iconic.
Everyone Pays—Properly
Forget vague fallout. The ending would be explicitly just. Hansu Bio? Bankrupt. TK Law Firm? Renamed SJ Law Firm (I mean, branding matters) with Soo Jae as the undisputed head. All the corrupt power players and their pathetic sons? Behind bars, no fancy settlements, no easy outs. Not “maybe indicted.” Not “probably fined.” Jail. The sons too. No escaping accountability via inheritance loopholes or last-minute repentance press conferences. And if they avoid prison? They’re bankrupt, blacklisted, and bitter. Beautiful.
No More Student-Professor Storylines, Please and Thank You
The romance angle? Rewritten. Sorry, Gong Chan, go journal about your feelings somewhere else. He might still pine from a respectful distance, but Soo Jae would be busy building empires, not helping a college kid process his trauma over lattes. Instead, I’d rewrite it so Soo Jae either ends up alone (she’s too busy running Korea, hello) or with someone who actually makes sense. Honestly Se Pil was right there, his thing with Eun Seo felt random and could easily be tweaked out. Or better yet, introduce another hotshot lawyer or professor who’s her equal. Not someone who calls her “Ms. Oh” during class and builds secret rooftop shrines.
Final Thoughts
This show was a near masterpiece, in my opinion. I was hooked from the second I hit play. With Oh Soo Jae being an absolute icon and the crime twist keeping every episode tense, what wasn’t to love? Even when I reached the end, the parts that annoyed me didn’t ruin the experience (okay, the ending stung a bit, that relationship was weird, and a few things fell flat but you get the point). This drama is seriously underrated and deserves way more love.
Like I said, this is what happens when writers actually think the whole show through and make sure no questions get left behind. It proves that with just a bit more effort and guts, K-dramas can go from good to great.
And honestly? If a drama can keep me glued to the screen, not drag things out just to hit 16 episodes, and give me a female lawyer lead who chews men up and spits them out, then I’m not complaining. Well, not too much.
Next time, just keep the student crushes out of the syllabus and we’re good.
What did you think of this show? It’s still one of my favourites despite its issues. If I choose to watch a show more than once, you know it’s a fav!
Did you like the relationship between Oh Soo Jae and Gong Chan or are you normal? Joking, you’re great 😉
Recently I’ve been wanting to review a Chinese drama that I had LOTS to say on and I’m still not sure. I don’t think rating Chinese dramas would be a normal thing and I don’t know if I should just throw one in every so often… Any thoughts?
The next review is gonna be on another thriller that I didn’t end up liking to much so get ready for that! I’ll see you next week 💕
Find Your Next Watch!
Main Cast
Seo Hyun Jin as Oh Soo Jae
Hwang In Yeop as Gong Chan
Hun Joon Ho as Choi Tae Kook
Ji Seung Hyun as Choi Joo Wan
Kim Chan Wan as Baek Jin Ki
Jeon Jin Ki as Ha Il Ku
Choi Young Joon as Yoon Se Pil
Themes/ Genres
Power, Ambition, Corruption, Redemption, Personal Growth, Betrayal, Romance
Legal Drama, Mystery, Melodrama, Romance
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'Why Her?' (Review-Only) Murder, Lies, Corporate Crime — and One Iconic Lawyer Making Bad Love Choices – Aya's K-drama Corner
August 8, 2025 at 1:20 pm
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