Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Raindrops slid over the cold tombstone. The name written on the tombstone caused Yeonjun's sobs to intensify. His tears mixed with the rain and rolled off his chin. The conversations of the people around him were muffled sounds. His ears, which couldn't register a single word, were red from the cold, just like his eyes and nose. 

Closing his eyes, he turned his face towards the gloomy, grey cloud-covered sky. He felt the drops falling on his face, tracing a path down to his neck. The black coat he was wearing was already soaked, but he thought staying in the rain a little longer wouldn't be a problem. His body, which he was trying to hide inside the coat, was trembling. 

"He's quite young; it's so sad that he lost both his mother and father at this age. Moreover, an unmated omega will struggle greatly alone. I heard his father wasn't paying attention to him lately, either." 

Yeonjun sniffled and looked at the wet earth with a pain in his chest. It was true, the body beneath the wet earth couldn't care for him lately. He was always drunk or out of his mind. Every time Yeonjun called him, his phone was busy. But despite everything, he was his father. The man who both loved him and found him lacking. The man who sometimes watched him with pride, sometimes chose to roll his eyes, the man who never judged his being an omega, but never celebrated it either. He had never said "I am proud of you" out loud. 

But Yeonjun knew the conflict in his eyes by heart. 

His father had loved him. In his own way. Silently. From a distant place. He was the only alpha he had taken refuge in during his 26 years of life. The person whose scent brought him peace, whose existence gave him courage. But he was gone too, just like his mother had been two years ago. 

The people around Yeonjun had slowly begun to disperse. There were many unfamiliar faces from the business world. They were probably his father's colleagues. Friends who weren't there when his father needed them the most. Yeonjun laughed with a mix of pain; it was always like this, a person's worth was realized after he died. He was black coal before death, but became precious gold after he died. 

The darkness of the weather increased, and the downpour eased. He stirred with a feeling of unease that filled him due to the gloomy weather. Then he bent down and stroked his father's black tombstone. He ran his fingers over the name written there. Right next to the grave was his mother's grave. He smiled at both graves with tear-filled eyes. 

He was smiling, but the feeling of unrest inside him had still not passed. A shiver ran through him, and he felt like he was being watched. He lifted his head with the eyes he felt upon him. He met eyes with a figure who stood out from the crowd, standing under a large tree a little distance away with a black umbrella in his hand. He couldn't quite make out his face, but that stance, one of his hands in his pocket, and the impact his gaze left on him... brought a strange sense of familiarity.

Yeonjun squinted. 

Was it him? No, it couldn't be... Seven years had passed. 

He swallowed. He rubbed his eyes. He tried to clear the image that escaped his wet eyelashes. But the umbrella covered the face like a shadow. For just a brief moment, the wind lifted the edge of that black curtain. 

Time stopped. 

Him. 

But how? Why? 

Then he disappeared, gliding like a shadow into the crowd. Yeonjun rubbed his eyes with trembling hands. There was another ache now in the middle of his grief. A memory he had left to be forgotten... or an incompleteness. 

He lowered his head, ignored his accelerating heartbeat, and looked at the grave again. He placed his hand on his father's tombstone. The name on it was faintly but deeply etched: “Choi Seungho.” 

This man loved you. Not always. Not under all circumstances. But as much as he could. And you always wanted more, didn't you? 

His father had never openly said he found him inadequate. But in his gaze, his silences, his admiration for other children, a deficiency had been felt. The day he presented as an omega, the silence in the house corridors was longer than usual. He didn't hug him. He didn't congratulate him. But he patted his back; perhaps that was the greatest intimacy for someone like him. 

Yeonjun hadn't understood that day. But now, crying behind the man who had gone under the earth, the emptiness in his heart was filling with something more familiar: regret. 

Tears mixed with the rain. Yeonjun, unable to control his sobs, felt his knees give out. He slumped onto a stone bench next to the cemetery and buried his head in his hands. 

I wish I had argued with you one more time, he thought. To raise my voice one more time. Call me 'fragile' again, and I'll scream 'you don't understand.' Then we'll fall silent again. But at least live... 

Suddenly, the owner of the umbrella came to mind. He lifted his head and stood up. 

He had to be sure. His eyes were still blurry from crying, but that face, that stance was still vivid in his mind. He began to walk, cutting through the crowd. His eyes were fixed on that spot. 

But, there was empty. 

No one was there. 

Only the rain-soaked tree and the desolate patch of earth. 

Yeonjun stopped. His lips parted. He let his hands drop to his sides. 

"He's gone..." said softly. 

"Who?" a voice said from behind him. 

When he turned around, he was met with a familiar kind smile. 

His blonde hair was heavy with rain, plastered to his forehead. The jacket draped over his shoulder still looked a size too small, like it did in his childhood. His eyes were warm. There was an expression in those eyes that could soften all the pain in the world. 

"Huening Kai..." 

"Yeonjun Hyung," Kai said slowly, coming closer. "I know it's hard... but I'm here." 

Yeonjun couldn't say anything and just stared at him. Then, suddenly, with all the pain inside him, he hugged him and leaned on his shoulder. This time, the rain could not pass between them. His sobs started again. 

Huening Kai gently stroked his back. "Let it out, cry. Don't be strong today. I know it's so hard." 

Yeonjun spoke without lifting his head, "But I... I couldn't forgive him. Never..." 

"Forgiveness isn't forgetting," Kai said softly. "But making a space for it to be carried within love. You love your father, Hyung. And he loved you. That's enough." 

The rain had now lost its intensity. The cemetery had quieted down. People had slowly withdrawn. Only they remained. 

Yeonjun lifted his head and sniffled. He took Kai's handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Then his eyes went to that spot again: the emptiness. 

While Huening Kai tried to comfort Yeonjun, Yeonjun was still examining the place he had just seen out of the corner of his eye. That black umbrella, that figure... Everything felt real. He wiped his eyes again and lowered his head. 

But at that moment, in the grass, right at the edge of the soil, something caught his attention. 

A pristine white flower, glistening with raindrops. 

A Magnolia. 

Yeonjun's heart stopped for a moment. 

This wasn't possible. It wasn't the season for it. There wasn't even a magnolia tree in this cemetery. 

He slowly bent down. He took the flower with trembling hands. The stem was short, as if it had been plucked in a hurry. But it hadn't been damaged. It was still perfectly fresh. It smelled wonderful. Just like... in his childhood. 

"I saw him..." he said. "I think I saw him. From a distance. Maybe it really was him. Maybe it was just..." 

Kai lowered his head, looking at the flower in Yeonjun's hand. "Who did you see?" he asked. 

Yeonjun smiled faintly. Very faintly. But something sun-like stirred inside him. The grief was still there. But now he had a shoulder to carry it on. 

Huening Kai, realizing he wouldn't get an answer, put his hand on Yeonjun's back. "Come on. Let's go home. You're soaked." 

Yeonjun turned to his father's grave one last time. Suppressing the tremor at the corner of his lip, he whispered: 

"Goodbye... dad."

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Yeonjun told Kai he wanted to be alone after Kai dropped him off at home. Even though Kai objected and wanted to stay with him, Yeonjun knew the young alpha had midterms he needed to study for. He promised him he would be fine, went up the stairs alone, and entered the house. 

After closing the front door, he took off the black coat and black scarf he was wearing and hung them up. His eyes welled up again as he walked slowly toward the living room. He threw himself onto the sofa and buried his face in the soft fabric. He let go of the sobs he had held back throughout the journey and started to cry. He struggled to breathe, and his chest tightened. This house was alien to him now. The house he had returned to after a long time was no longer warm as it used to be. First his mother, then his father, had abandoned him to loneliness in this house, the place where his childhood had passed. 

He sat up on the sofa and looked at the fireplace filled with ashes across the room. It no longer spread warmth throughout the house as it used to. It was cold. The house was cold, too. It wasn't like a home. He sniffled and rubbed his red eyes with his hands. He pulled his knees into his lap and wrapped his arms around them. He rested his forehead on his knees, making himself even smaller in the massive house. 

When everyone was gone, when all the lights were out, when the storms subsided, even when the fierce seas slept, the omega was still crying. His scent of sorrow filled the entire house in the darkness. He hadn't eaten or drunk water. He didn't even know how many hours he had been crying; from the twilight that settled in the room, he understood that it was late. He slowly lifted his face and looked around. His neck was stiff from staying in the same position for hours. He ran his tongue over his dry lips and swallowed painfully. 

The roots of his eyelashes were aching from crying. He got up from where he was sitting and threw himself upstairs. His trembling knees trembled even more as he passed his parents' bedroom. He inhaled the faint sweet fruit scent and the lingering cinnamon scent from the room into his lungs. The people who brought him into this world were gone. Yeonjun felt a pang in his chest. 

With the last fragments of his strength, he entered his room, took off his still-damp clothes, and threw them on the floor. He walked with bare feet toward the bathtub in his bathroom. He turned on the hot water tap for the tub and stood up. He laughed hysterically at the image he saw in the mirror. Messy hair, red eyes, slightly purple under-eyes... his already pale skin was even paler, making him look like a corpse. 

He felt as though he was not much different from a corpse anyway. He slowly lowered his cold, trembling body into the warm tub and closed his eyes. He continued to torture himself further by staying alone with his thoughts until the water cooled. He cried, cleansing himself of the dirt that felt non-existent but that he felt would never wash off his skin. He scrubbed his skin red with a soapy loofah to wash off the pain the cold cemetery winds had left on his skin. He sniffled, dried himself, and walked to his bed with the towel wrapped around his body. 

Everything that happened still felt like a joke. What wouldn't he give for his father to walk in through the door, say that all this was a joke, and laugh until his eyes turned into crescent shapes? He'd better get dressed before he got lost in his thoughts again. He sat up to check the time, leaned over his clothes on the floor, and picked up his phone. There were countless calls and messages from Kai. The omega didn't want the young alpha to worry about him anymore, so he sent a brief 'I'm fine' message and looked at the other messages. People he knew from work and friends from America had sent messages expressing how sorry they were about the funeral, but Yeonjun had neither the strength nor the state of mind to answer them. 

He threw the phone back where he had picked it up and stopped at the sight of the flower on the floor. He had forgotten its very existence. He  reached for the white petal sticking out from the edge of his pocket while picking up his phone. With trembling fingers, he pulled the flower completely out of his pocket and examined it in the darkness of the room. Its delicate petals seemed to glow under the moonlight that illuminated the room. Or maybe Yeonjun just wanted to see it glow. 

He trembled as he brought the flower to his nose and smelled it. It smelled only of magnolia. There was no trace of any other scent on it. He wasn't sure if the feeling spreading in his chest was disappointment or regret from the heavy burden of the past. As he lovingly stroked the petals of the flower, a tear fell onto it. The omega sighed with a trembling chest and pressed the flower to his heart. It had been too long... Too many hearts had been broken. Too many tears, too many cries of agony had been shed. 

He placed the flower on the bed and stood up. Wiping his tears, he put on one of his oldest pairs of pajamas. The pajamas his mother had given him on his eighteenth birthday, the ones that would wrap him up warmly. His feet carried him to his bookcase. He pulled the chair from his study desk to reach the brown wooden box on the top shelf. He coughed from the dust that had accumulated on the box when he reached it. He put the box on his bed and wiped the layer of dust off it with his hand. He coughed a little more from the dust as he clapped his hands. 

When he tried to open the box, he realized it was locked and sighed. It had been a long time since he had opened this box. He got up and started pacing around his room. Where could he have put it? First, he checked the surface and drawers of his study desk. Then he checked his bookcase. Then he checked the drawers on both sides of his bed. Just as his hope was fading, his eyes fell on the painting hanging on the wall across from his bed. 

It was a framed painting. Yeonjun tilted his head slightly and looked at the painting. It was a rather unsuccessful but colorful painting done by two little artists. In the painting, colorful flowers were around a small lake. The lake was painted in the brightest shade of blue. Around the lake were cats, dogs and horses drinking water from the lake, swans and ducks swimming in the lake. And there was a huge tree by the edge of the lake. A tree that had opened its flowers in the most beautiful way, stretching out towards the lake. 

He walked towards the painting, took the framed painting from the wall. He returned to the bed, knelt on the floor in front of it, and turned the painting over. A small key was taped to the wood of the frame in the bottom right corner of the picture. Yeonjun pulled the tape, took the key in his hand, and brought the wooden box on the bed closer to him. For a reason he didn't know—didn't want to know—his hands were trembling. The key opened the wooden box with a click, but Yeonjun was not ready to open the box.

When he opened the box with trembling hands, a sob he didn't know he had been holding escaped his throat, and tears started to wet his cheeks again. Ignoring the items inside the box, he grabbed the thing he was actually looking for and quickly closed the box. What he held in his hand was a book. It was one of his favorite books in the past. And maybe it still was, but he had been avoiding seeing this book for a long time. Holding it in his hands again after years felt strange. The Little Prince, which had a puffy appearance due to the flowers placed between its pages. 

He turned, needing something to lean his back on, and rested his back against the bed. Maybe this was not the best time to open this box and book. Yeonjun sat with his knees pulled to his chest, slowly riffling through the pages. Every flower had dried and left yellow stains on the pages where it dried. He looked at the dates marked in the top right corner of the pages. How fast time went by. Other things that caught his attention as he turned the pages were the writings in the middle of paragraphs and on the margins. They were written in such bad handwriting that Yeonjun struggled to read them. It seemed his handwriting had still not improved since his childhood. There wasn't only his handwriting on the pages; there was another one just as bad as his. They had filled almost every page with writings about the book together. 

Yeonjun turned back to the first page and looked at the date. August 22, 2007. Then he looked at the page where he had put the last flower. April 21, 2018. The writings on the page where he put the last flower were smeared. His tears had smudged the book's ink, wetting most of the words on the page and making them unreadable. Yeonjun remembered everything. The person who gave him this book, how they took notes while reading this book together. Yeonjun always had to wait while taking notes because the other one was not yet fast at writing. When they finished the book together, Yeonjun had promised to keep this book forever. And he did. He finished reading the book at the age of 8, but continued to enrich the book over the years. He enriched the book even more with the magnolias he placed between its pages every time. 

Now, seven years later, he was dating it again. After writing the date with the ink pen he took from his study desk, he picked up the flower on the bed and placed it on the page. After closing the book, as his sobs burned his throat even more, he pressed the book to his chest and let himself drop to the floor. While he was crying breathlessly, his body grew more and more tired, and finally, his eyes closed in pain. 

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The door-bell ringing one after the other echoed in his brain. He stirred uncomfortably in his place and groaned in pain. The sound of the doorbell finally stopped, but it was still echoing in Yeonjun's mind. When he opened his eyes and looked around, he frowned. All he could see were the parquet floor and the underside of his bed. He whined irritably and moved his body. His cheeks were lightly stuck to the parquet floor from the dried wetness of his tears. When he finally lifted his head and straightened his body, he slowly began to grasp the situation. He had fallen asleep on the floor last night. He remained in a sitting position for a little longer and rubbed his swollen face and eyes with his hands. 

His whole body was stiff and ached with the slightest movement. He looked at his phone, whose screen was flashing amidst the wet clothes he had worn yesterday. As far as he could see, the time was long past noon. Yeonjun assumed the person messaging him was Kai and refused to pick up the phone. He didn't find the emotional strength in himself to deal with the storybook lying on his right side and crawled toward the bathroom. When he saw his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, he felt sorry for himself, more than he ever had. His eyes were swollen from crying, his right cheek was red from lying on the floor, his lips were swollen and red from biting them due to stress yesterday, and his whole face was puffy from sleeping for a long time. 

Yeonjun took care of his business, washed his face and hands, and dried himself with a towel. And that stupid doorbell started ringing again. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up in annoyance. Whoever was coming at this hour should just fuck off. Groaning in pain, he dragged his exhausted body downstairs and reached the door. As he prepared to curse when he opened the door, he stared into the emptiness in front of him. There was no one at the door. Yeonjun looked right and left to make sure, but there was really no one. For God's sake, who plays a prank at a time like this? he thought, then saw the food package on the floor. 

The warm smell of food coming from the package must have reminded his body how hungry he was, because his stomach rumbled. Yeonjun looked outside one last time and tried to find out who brought the package, but no one was there. As the rumbling sounds in his stomach intensified, he took the package and closed the door. The sound of his bare feet walking on the parquet floor led him to the wide living room, where he sank into one of the comfortable armchairs and placed the package on the coffee table in front of him. Right now, his only thought was food. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, but his stomach was rumbling from hunger. 

When he opened the package, his eyes welled up with the smell of ramen filling his nose. He opened the lid of the hot ramen, brought it to his nose, and smelled it. He put the plastic container back on the coffee table and looked for disposable chopsticks, but instead found homemade side dishes, healthy meat dishes, and a pair of iron chopsticks in the package. The omega's troubled scent had dissipated a little after days. Someone had prepared his favorite food and left it at his door. Yeonjun thought the person who did this was Kai. The young alpha must have left the food at the door and left to give him some privacy. 

Yeonjun tried to focus on the food without thinking, but there were some problems. First, this week was Kai's exam week, and studying medicine was definitely not easy, so Yeonjun doubted Kai had the time to do this. Secondly, Kai couldn't cook anything other than cracking an egg. While the omega cried with joy because the ramen was exactly the consistency he liked, he really didn't care who made these meals. He probably thought Kai's mother must have made and sent it.

After the omega finished all the side dishes, meat, and ramen, he leaned back on the couch and smiled, looking at the slight bulge of his belly under his pajamas. The food was really delicious, and he couldn't stop himself from eating it all. The dopamine secreted while eating dropped again after the meal. Just two days ago, he had fought with his father in the middle of this living room. As always, he had come home drunk and dishevelled. Yeonjun had heard that his father's alcoholism started two years ago, after his mother's death. 

Yeonjun was in America when the neighbors in the complex reported his father's drunken state to him with concern. After attending his mother's funeral, he had returned to America, leaving his father all alone in this massive house. He had to. His career in America was progressing so well that it would have been madness to leave everything and return to Korea when he was on the verge of success. That's why he stayed in America for about another year and climbed the career ladder one by one. Six years later, when he finally felt ready, he moved to Korea with the promotion he received. He was working for a very important magazine in America and quickly rose to prominence with his success. With the promotion from the magazine, he was appointed Editor-in-Chief for the Korean branch of the magazine in Korea. This was beyond Yeonjun's wildest dreams. 

But he was late. While chasing his own career and life, his father had already drowned in his loneliness. He was here one year after his mother's death. In his house. But his father had already become an alcoholic. Yeonjun really tried to take care of him, but it was so hard. Working in such an important job required serious responsibilities, and he had to work day and night. They hardly ever ran into each other at home. When they did, the man was either passed out in a corner from drunkenness or talking nonsense in a terrible state. 

Sometimes the man wasn't drunk. During those times, he would cook for Yeonjun. But there was always an air of embarrassment on his face. As if he couldn't look Yeonjun in the face. As if he was ashamed of him. Yeonjun didn't mind this; he thought the man was probably ashamed of him for constantly walking around drunk. 

Yeonjun's eyes welled up with the guilt he felt in his chest. He had thrown himself into his work because of the pain he was going through from his mother's death. He hadn't realized how much his father was suffering. Although, his father had never realized how much he was suffering either. They were like two ghosts living in the same house. The only things left behind were memories, pains, recollections, and this huge, unnecessarily large, and cold house. 

Yeonjun continued to sit on the couch for a while longer, then turned his head toward the large glass door leading to the garden with the sound of cars outside. He frowned at the sight of the consecutive black cars and wiped the tears from his eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, large black cars were currently entering their front yard. Yeonjun counted at least five. Yeonjun straightened up with the fear that filled him.

He became even more uneasy when the doorbell rang. It was as if the blood was drained from all the veins in his body. Before he had time to think about whether to open the door or not, a strange voice was heard. 

"Yeonjun-ah, Uncle Doshik is here." 

The voice was familiar, but he had absolutely no idea who it belonged to. Yeonjun took a breath and exhaled until he controlled his pheromones so as not to show his fear, and reached out to open the door. The man was probably one of his father's old friends. Even when Yeonjun was little, men in black cars used to come to their house and do business with his father. Anyway, these men would find him no matter what. 

When he opened the door, he was met by a middle-aged, old man. The man had a big belly, a mixed white and black beard, and strange-looking hair. Ah, Yeonjun would recognize this hair anywhere. Glued-on wig hair; the man was probably using it to cover his baldness. Yeonjun looked at the man, who had wrinkles on his face and looked a little older than his father. The man had dark skin from smoking and brownish teeth. And this face looked quite familiar to Yeonjun. 

There was almost an army of men behind the man, and Yeonjun could easily see the guns at the men's waists. God, I wish I had put on my scent blockers, Yeonjun thought. Because he was probably emitting insanely stressful and fearful pheromones right now. 

"Ah, honey, don't be afraid; they won't harm you," the old man said with a smile. 

Yeonjun swallowed and looked at the old man. The man was shorter than Yeonjun, and his scent smelled like ashes. A dominant and nauseating alpha scent of ash. Yeonjun was really putting effort into not showing his nausea. 

The man must have realized Yeonjun wouldn't speak and started talking again. "How beautiful you've grown up, Yeonjun-ah. You've become a wonderful omega, just as you should be." He looked Yeonjun up and down as if inspecting a property. Yeonjun tightly gripped the door frame to suppress the nausea in his stomach. 

Yeonjun had never been uncomfortable with any compliment he had received before. But these words made him feel sick. He had enjoyed being the center of attention his whole life. But he wanted to vomit in front of the eyes across from him that were scanning him from top to bottom. 

"I couldn't attend the funeral yesterday. You really can't imagine how sorry I am. Your father and I have been friends for a very long time. Recently, you know... he was having a hard time. And as a friend, I did what I could," the man said. 

Yeonjun truly couldn't understand what the man was trying to get at, but he wanted this nonsense to end as soon as possible. The old man gave a hand signal, and one of the men behind him came forward with a yellow envelope in his hand. 

When the old man held out the envelope to Yeonjun, Yeonjun frowned and reached out to take the envelope. As he took the envelope, the old man deliberately and slowly brushed his fingers against the omega's fingers. 

Yeonjun instantly pulled his hand back in disgust. His omega released a sour, sharp warning pheromone against this insolent contact. 

The old man's smirk widened a little more. "You're as temperamental as your mother. Ah, don't be so hasty. This envelope... is a summary of the burden your father left behind. He had many friends, Yeonjun-ah. And many debts, too." 

Yeonjun opened the envelope, took out the paper inside, and examined it carefully. There were many names and numbers across from them on the paper. At the top of the list was written Choi Seungho's Debts. Yeonjun's eyes widened when he saw the names and the amounts across from them on the list. God, Yeonjun had never seen so many numbers together in his life. When he saw at the bottom of the list that the person who prepared this paper was his father's accountant, his heart sank. These were officially taken debts. 

Another thing that caught Yeonjun's attention was that all names except two were crossed out with a thin black pen. One of the names was Yoo Doshik, and the other was a hotel name. 

"You must be curious about why all names except two are crossed out. Please take out the other paper from the envelope." the old man said with his cigarette-smelling breath. 

Yeonjun did as the man said and took the other paper out of the envelope. This time, the paper was less complicated than the previous one. There were only two names: Yoo Doshik and Luxe Mirage Hotel. But the debt to Yoo Doshik on this paper was greater than the previous one. Quite a lot more. Yet, it was half the debt to Luxe Mirage Hotel. Yeonjun frowned. For God's sake, dad, what could you have done to incur so much debt at a stupid hotel? Yeonjun thought. 

Yeonjun took a hysterical breath, laughed, and then his eyes filled with tears. "This... this is not possible." 

Yeonjun did his best to stay calm. The numbers he was seeing right now were not numbers he had ever seen in his life. His hands were trembling again, but this time it was from pure stress. This paper had to be a huge joke because a person could not owe millions of dollars to a stupid hotel. No, it's not possible. Yeonjun let out a hysterical laugh from nervousness and stress. This was not possible. Then his eyes filled with tears, and the paper suddenly blurred. 

"Don't worry, Uncle Doshik paid almost all the debts for you. I paid the debts one by one so that the other creditors wouldn't threaten you and you wouldn't get into trouble. Now your only debt is to me. Oh, and your father also has debts to the casino. But don't worry, Uncle Doshik will also cover that debt. Just so that no more tears fall from those pearl-like eyes and no helpless moans pour from your lips." The man reached his hand toward Yeonjun's cheek. This time, he couldn't escape. Doshik's old and rough finger touched Yeonjun's cheek. 

"Now you have only one debt, Yeonjun-ah. And that is... to me. Call me when you feel ready. We'll talk at length about how your debt will be paid. My card is inside the envelope," the old man said, and with a disgusting smirk, he scanned the omega one last time and sighed. "I can't wait to see you again." 

He turned around and quickly got into his car. The black cars disappeared from the yard, leaving Yeonjun at the door, helpless and frozen. Yeonjun clutched the debt paper he had been given.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun slammed the door shut and leaned his back against it, the disgusting feeling left by Doshik clinging to him. With a trembling hand, he angrily flung the debt paper onto the coffee table. His burning rage had given way to despair once again. This house was overshadowed by a heavy debt inherited from his father and the threat of a stomach-churning alpha. 

After sitting frozen on the couch for half an hour, Yeonjun figured out what he needed to do and went upstairs. He picked up his phone, found the name of his friend Wooyoung, whom he had known since high school, in his contacts, and called him. 

The phone was answered on the second ring. “W-wooyoung. I’m in a really messed-up situation right now. I don’t know what I should do, or who I should call.” 

As soon as Wooyoung heard Yeonjun’s choked voice, he knew there was a serious problem. After Yeonjun said he needed his help, Wooyoung told him he would be at his door in twenty minutes. 

Wooyoung arrived in twenty minutes, just as he said. When the doorbell rang, Yeonjun got up and opened the door. He felt an instant relief when he saw his beta friend Wooyoung, who was looking at him with worried eyes. As soon as Wooyoung stepped inside, he wrinkled his nose, smelling the remnants of the tense, sour alpha pheromones that filled the room. 

"Junnie, what is this smell? It’s like someone smoked a pack of cigarettes in here," Wooyoung asked, taking Yeonjun's arm and leading him to the couch. He sat beside him and immediately hugged him. The desperate look on the omega's face pained his heart. "Hey, I'm here. You had to be so strong yesterday. I know it's hard." 

Yeonjun couldn't hold back any longer with Wooyoung's sincere touch. He leaned his head on his friend's shoulder and sobbed softly. 

"Yesterday... A man came yesterday, Woo," Yeonjun said, sniffing and lifting his head. His teary eyes pointed to the paper on the coffee table. "This was my father's inheritance." 

Wooyoung took the paper and began to examine it. As he saw the numbers, Wooyoung’s eyebrows slowly began to rise. His mouth hung slightly open in astonishment. 

"My God, Yeonjun... This... What does this mean?" Wooyoung whispered, unable to take his eyes off the paper. "Luxe Mirage? Isn't that a hotel? What business did your father have with this damned hotel?" 

Yeonjun shook his head. "I don't know. I honestly don't know where all these debts came from, or how my father racked up this much debt. He just... he drank too much alcohol, but getting this much debt from drinking is ridiculous. Woo, I really don't know what I'm going to do.” 

Wooyoung felt his chest ache even more with his friend's shattered state. Words caught in his throat. Yeonjun was one of the strongest people he had ever known. But watching Yeonjun silently trembling now, there was no sign of the strong, stubborn omega he knew. He always stood tall—he knew how to survive without being dependent on others' mercy, how to get up if he fell. Even in high school, when everyone else was falling apart, he would pull things together and spread his wings alone to chart his own path. He was hardworking, ambitious; the word failure was not in his vocabulary.

But now Wooyoung saw that unwavering strength cracking, those proud shoulders bowing under the weight. He wanted to help, but how? Even touching Yeonjun felt like betraying his last remaining fortress. He just watched silently, realizing for the first time how quiet and desperate the breaking of someone as strong as Yeonjun could be. 

Then Yeonjun spoke again. “An idiot man named Yoo Doshik has taken over part of the debts. He told me he was an old friend of my father’s. He left his card, saying we could talk about how we’d pay the rest of the debt. I don’t want to talk to that man alone." He grimaced as the man's words and implication came to mind.

Wooyoung put the paper back on the coffee table and tightly held Yeonjun's hand. He couldn't just sit there and watch his friend fall apart. "You won't talk to him. You won't do anything alone. We’re here, Kai and I are by your side. This is our debt. First, we need to understand this: Is this debt real? And even if it is real, do we have a chance to object since they were your father's?" 

"Woo, you should have seen the men. A whole army of scary men walking around with guns in their belts. Do you think such terrifying men would leave a debt that I could object to?" Wooyoung narrowed his eyes and answered Yeonjun. "I don't care. Let them stand here every day with guns in their hands if they want, they have no chance against the law. First, we have to find your father's accountant and confirm everything. I came with my car. I will take you. Get ready." 

Although Yeonjun wanted to object, he realized his friend was right. After all, he didn't create these debts, and why should he have to pay his father's debts? With a spark of hope rising inside him, he went to his room to get ready. When Yeonjun came down a half hour later, dressed simply but elegantly, Wooyoung was waiting at the door. 

“Wow, you're shining as always, my darling.” 

Despite being unhappy, Yeonjun laughed and rolled his eyes at his friend's attempts to cheer him up. Wooyoung was always a supportive friend. The kind who stands behind you no matter what. They got in the car and drove off. 

They both looked at each other when the navigation showed the location. It was far from the city center and in an area neither of them had been to before. When they reached the location, they got out of the car. The accountant's office was in a gray, gloomy building, far from the luxury buildings. Instead of taking the old elevator that looked compatible with the building, they chose the stairs and reached the second floor. They knocked on the door and waited nervously, looking at each other for a while. A woman who was not young opened the door. When they entered, the old, tired, and constantly sweating accountant man stirred nervously when he saw them. 

"Oh Mr. Choi Yeonjun, I'm sorry for your loss. I wasn't expecting to see you here," the accountant whispered as he led them into his study. 

Yeonjun, not wanting to stay in this cramped and gloomy place any longer, got straight to the point. He took out the paper from his back pocket and handed it to the old man in front of him. "A man claiming to be a friend of my father brought this paper today. Your approval is underneath the paper." 

The old man's hands trembled as they pointed to the debt paper. He sighed as if he had already expected this moment to come and wiped the sweat from his face with a cloth. 

"The debts... are unfortunately true, sir," the accountant confirmed, his voice trembling. "Mr. Seungho... got into a very large debt mess in the last two years. The people he borrowed from were powerful people. It would be foolish to give large amounts of debt just based on a word, so the people Mr. Seungho borrowed from would officially create a record of the debt being taken out. I tried to stop him, but I'm just an employee, I'm responsible for carrying out the orders given to me." the old accountant said with a very ashamed expression. 

"Can we object? After all, Yeonjun didn't create these debts. Why should he have to pay his father's debts?" Wooyoung asked. 

The accountant shrugged at the question. "Unfortunately, it wouldn't be right for me to give information about this. It's not my area, so I'll give you Mr. Seungho's lawyer's number. It would be better for you to discuss this with him." 

Yeonjun felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He took the card the accountant handed him and thanked him. Yeonjun and Wooyoung left the office in disappointment. Wooyoung took a deep, angry breath. "Did you see how the man was sweating? It was as if he was afraid of something." 

Yeonjun pursed his lips and got into the car. He sighed and closed his eyes as he fastened his seatbelt. "I don't know, Woo. I think I'm scared too. I hope the lawyer says something to ease my mind, and we can get out of this damned situation." 

Wooyoung looked at the sulking omega as he started the car. "Don't worry Junnie, everything will be fine," he said with a hopeful look at his friend.

On the way, Yeonjun called the lawyer, and the lawyer said he could arrange an appointment for him an hour later, even though his calendar was full. Yeonjun knew the lawyer. The lawyer had worked with his father for years, and Yeonjun had seen him a few times. The fact that a well-known lawyer in Korea created a slot just for him in his packed schedule made Yeonjun even more nervous. The situation must be really serious, Yeonjun thought, watching the city rush by outside the car window he leaned against. 

When they arrived at the lawyer's office, they felt a little more relaxed than before. The office was in a newer, cleaner, and brighter building than the accountant's office. When they entered, a man led them to the waiting area and informed them that Mr. Lee would be there shortly. 

“Wow, your father's choices surprise me. The accountant was literally in a forgotten part of the city, while this place is in the heart of the city,” Wooyoung commented as he examined the luxurious office. 

Yeonjun nodded and pulled the lapels of his coat together, trying to create a warmer space for himself. His omega instincts wanted to create a small space for himself to escape stress and fear. Perhaps a nest. Yeonjun felt the peace that flooded him with the thought of a warm and safe nest. He would definitely make a nest for himself when he returned home. 

“I can almost smell your stressed pheromones. They’re practically leaking out from under your scent patch.” 

Yeonjun turned to his friend, then leaned his head on his shoulder. It was highly unlikely that Wooyoung would smell his pheromones. Betas were not as good as other species at smelling pheromones, and Yeonjun always wore the strongest scent patches. The fact that he could smell it meant Yeonjun was in really bad shape. 

Wooyoung put his arm around the omega’s shoulder and stroked his shoulder with his hand. He was trying to give him the best support he could, but this was all he could do. To be by his side and make him feel like he could share his troubles. In fact, he didn't know what else he could do. The omega had never been this desperate. He was usually the one who needed help, and Yeonjun would be the most rational and idea-giving person. Right now, he genuinely felt like he was failing as a friend. 

After sitting for a while longer, a man in a perfectly pressed suit entered. The man had a smile on his face, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was more like a comforting smile. The man was probably in his fifties but looked quite athletic. Even his white hair added a distinct air and charm to him. 

“Welcome. Please, let’s go to my office.” His flat and firm tone made both of them shiver. 

The two stood up and looked at each other as the man walked towards his office. Both had a slight look of shock on their faces. Wooyoung whispered as he looked after the man. “I think I've discovered a new fantasy.” 

Yeonjun elbowed him. “Don't be ridiculous, Woo, you have a boyfriend.” 

Wooyoung chuckled as he walked next to Yeonjun. “That's exactly what I'm talking about. If my beloved alpha continues not to come out of the gym like this, he will be a very sexy dilf-” 

Yeonjun elbowed him harder than before, and he grimaced and groaned in pain. "Please stop telling me your ridiculous fantasies," Yeonjun said, frowning and whispering. 

The pair entered the lawyer's office and sat on the leather armchairs across the desk. Mr. Lee asked for a moment and left the room, requesting a few files from his assistant in the corridor. When he returned, he looked at Yeonjun in a way that made Yeonjun feel like he would faint from stress. The lawyer's gaze was full of pity and shame. An inner voice told him that what was about to be discussed would not be good at all. 

"Actually, I wasn't expecting you so soon. Seeing you at your father's funeral, I thought you would need some time alone. I am truly sorry for your loss, Yeonjun-ssi," Mr. Lee said with a genuinely sad expression on his face. 

Yeonjun just nodded. He didn't remember seeing him at the funeral yesterday. Although there were many faces there, and he wasn't well enough to pay attention to all of them one by one. The assistant knocked and came in, breaking the strange silence in the room. He put the files on the desk and left the room. 

“First of all, may I learn the reason you are here?” 

Yeonjun watched carefully as the lawyer shuffled through the files. His heart was beating faster than it should have been. The stress inside him was increasing with the silence. 

Wooyoung noticed Yeonjun's lost-looking eyes and gently nudged him with his foot. “Yeonjunnie,” he said in one of the softest voices in the world. 

When Yeonjun came to himself, he cleared his throat, found his lost voice, and spoke. “A man came to my door today and told me he was an old friend of my father, giving me these papers," he said, taking the papers out of his back pocket and placing them on the lawyer's desk.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses as he took the papers from the desk and examined them, signaling Yeonjun with his hand to continue. 

“The man said he had taken over the debts and that I now owed him. So we went to my father’s accountant, and the accountant said the debts were real and directed us here. I really don't understand what's going on. Why did my father have so much debt, and why do I have to pay these debts? I mean, I didn't incur the debts, so I shouldn't have to pay them, right?” Yeonjun looked at the lawyer with hopeful eyes. 

The man sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his forehead. God, Yeonjun could faint at any moment. The amount of stress he had experienced in one day was truly too much for his body, and he felt nauseous. The man put his glasses back on and turned to Yeonjun. 

“I can understand how scared you are right now, Yeonjun-ssi. I really wasn't expecting you so soon, but it seems someone couldn't wait and showed these debts to you. That greedy bastard," the lawyer said, lightly cursing while looking out the window. 

Yeonjun realized his eyes were filling with tears as his vision blurred. Mr. Lee was saying things he completely didn't expect. His stomach was clenching, and his hands were sweating. As his breath tightened, Mr. Lee looked at Yeonjun's eyes again. This time there was pure disappointment and despair. 

"I'm going to be honest with you, Yeonjun-ssi. You have to pay these debts because your father named you as a guarantor for the debts. And you accepted it. You have your wet signature on the documents," the man said, pulling out a few pages from the files and handing them to Yeonjun. 

The papers rustled between Yeonjun's trembling hands. Yeonjun struggled to understand the words coming out of the lawyer's mouth. It was as if every syllable was sprinkled with ice; even breathing hurt. “What... what signature?” His own voice sounded foreign. 

Yeonjun looked at the crooked ink lines on that paper. He saw his name, he saw his signature. Next to it, his father's signature. Side by side. Together. Time slowed down. The blood circulating in his veins seemed to recede; a ringing echoed in his ears. 

The memory of that day came back to him: his father had held out the pen, saying, "it's just a formality." 'My son, I won't make you sign anything that isn't safe, trust.' He was now crushed under the weight of that trust. 

His knees trembled. His chest burned; anger, resentment, and guilt were intertwined. His eyes stared into the void. 

“So… I will pay his debts?” 

“I’m sorry, Yeonjun-ssi. If there was anything I could do, believe me, I would do everything to get you out of this debt mess and away from these disgusting men. But your signature is on the papers. I was truly surprised when your father came with signed papers. My daughter follows you and your writings, and we were really surprised that an independent omega like you signed these,” the lawyer's voice held genuine surprise. 

“I... I didn't sign these knowingly.” Yeonjun looked at the lawyer, his voice trembling. Then he turned to Wooyoung, shaking his head. 

“As far as I can see, you didn't sign these documents knowingly, and I believe that. But there is nothing we can do. You put the signature there, and that’s what matters. If it had been forged, we would have a chance, but you signed it yourself,” the man said. 

Wooyoung shifted in his seat. “What if we don't pay? Is the man owed the debt very dangerous?” 

Mr. Lee looked at the debt papers Yeonjun gave him and chuckled in disbelief. “Yoo Doshik. A ruthless, ambitious man who would do anything to get what he wants. Like anything. He and your father didn't get along very well, but they started hanging out after your father's close friend, Mr. Choi, died. They weren't very close at first until your mother died. After that, he started drinking with your father and became close to him. He is a dangerous man. A powerful figure who has made a name for himself in the mafia. Such baseness is only to be expected from a man like him.”

As Yeonjun and Wooyoung tried to make sense of what the man was saying, Wooyoung repeated in fear. “Mafia?” 

Mafia. As the word echoed in Yeonjun's mind, that terrifying past, which he had kept locked away for a long time, suddenly forced the door open. The wall that protected him from this filth had collapsed. 

That's right, Yeonjun had never told him about it. How could he talk about something he was so ashamed of? His father wasn't mafia, but a man who worked in dirty business, cooperating with the mafia. Yeonjun's father was a man who worked in logistics. He would cooperate with the mafia, helping them with arms and drug trafficking, and in return, he would earn good money. 

When Yeonjun was little, he couldn't make much sense of it. He attended large invitations with his family and met new people. He didn't know that these people were mafia, doing dirty work. When he learned, there was nothing he could do. He was born right in the middle of dirty business; even if he wanted to, he had no chance of escaping. Not until the mafia issues started to bother him. He didn't want to live in fear every day, he didn't want to go to bed with a guilty conscience. 

He received his first death threat when he was sixteen. When he cried and told his father, he saw the affection and fear on his father's face. He was afraid of losing him. The fact that his only child was an omega made him even more vulnerable. Then, when he turned eighteen, his father explained the plan he had made to save him from this filth. Leaving everything behind and running away... Yeonjun couldn't accept it at first; there were things he couldn't leave behind. But when his father told him how much he was desired in the mafia, his blood ran cold. 

Yeonjun had always been aware that he was beautiful. He had always received compliments from the people around him and had been an omega that everyone looked at with envy. His scent, his posture, his character, his beauty, his demeanor were enchanting and ethereal. It was no surprise that he was popular among the mafia. It was terrifying. It was terrifying because his family had never allowed him to go to mafia invitations after his omega scent became clear. Yeonjun thought he had almost purged himself of the mafia, but his name being mentioned as a desired person in the mafia filled him with fear. 

Now that he was also a legal adult omega, he was in bigger trouble. Yeonjun had to leave. He had to go far away from the mafia. He couldn't live his life in the filth with a man he didn't want until the end of his life. And he left. To save himself from this burning flame, he left without looking back at what he left behind. Because if he had, he wouldn't have been able to go. 

The betrayal he experienced still felt foreign to him. His father, who had done everything he could to save him from this filth, had thrown him back into this fire. Maybe the fault wasn't only his dad. Maybe Yeonjun shouldn't have returned from America at all. That wasn't the plan anyway. Yeonjun was supposed to spend the rest of his life in America, far away from Korea. But things didn't go that way. Yeonjun was burning with longing inside, trying to find an excuse to return to Korea every day. 

His father never allowed it. They always went to America to see Yeonjun, and they wouldn't let Yeonjun come to Korea. Not until his mother died. Yeonjun attended his mother's funeral, ignoring everyone. He stepped foot in Korea for the first time after five long years. 

Despite everything, Yeonjun loved his mother very much. He video-called her almost every day while he was in America, telling her what he did that day. When she died, an even bigger void formed inside him. He felt completely empty when he returned to America, and he gave himself to working even harder. He worked constantly every day to silence the voices in his head. A year later, when he got a promotion, he couldn't stand it and returned to Korea. Surprisingly, his father had no objections. 

Yeonjun's goal was to spend more time with his father. His mother's death had made him think too much. He didn't want to lose the time he couldn't spend with her, with his father as well. But he lost him too... now he was at zero. 

Yeonjun began to tremble even more with the thoughts flooding his mind. Why hadn't his father objected to his return to Korea at all? As his eyes scrolled over the lines, his breath caught. A burning sensation, not a pang, spread in his heart. It was as if someone had stabbed a knife into his chest. 

The whole puzzle suddenly came together. He understood now why his father had allowed him to return to Korea so easily. He hadn't objected to him at all during that time, acting as if he was proud of him for climbing the career ladder so quickly, and he had honored his arrival in Korea. Because he had already decided to sacrifice him.

His breathing quickened. His shoulders trembled. "No..." he said, but his voice didn't come out. He wanted to deny it. To not believe, to not know, to have never opened that paper. But the truth was as cold as the dried ink on the document in his hand. 

His hands trembled and went to his neck, trying to relieve the suffocating feeling there. He felt even more nauseous. The weight of the betrayal settled on his shoulder, causing the image in front of his eyes to blur. As his stomach clenched, a metallic taste came to his mouth. 

'You promised to protect me... You saved me from the fire and threw me back into it.' The thoughts were consuming his mind. He swallowed, but his throat was dry. A single tear rolled down the corner of his lips, landing on his chin. He gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists. Anger... Guilt and pain. The pain of tasting betrayal for the second time from the only person he trusted was tensing all the muscles in his body. Yeonjun, his eyes filled with wet, burning rage, now knew that his father was not just an alcoholic, but also a traitor who had abandoned him to his own fate. 

Yeonjun turned to Mr. Lee, with more tears streaming down his chin. "I... I don't know how I'm going to pay these debts." 

“That was the goal. To leave you desperate. Yoo Doshik is a complete bastard. It seems he made a plan and played all his cards for this plan. I warned your father many times, Yeonjun-ssi, but he didn't listen to me. First, they wanted him to change his accountant to that man whom Doshik called trustworthy but had him do illegal work. They prepared the ground to use your father in their own games. Then they asked him to work with another lawyer instead of me, but I objected. Your father and I are very old friends, so it was easier to persuade him,” Mr. Lee sighed, as if he didn't know where to continue or how to explain it. 

At that moment, Wooyoung finally came out of the trance he was in and turned to the man with wide eyes. "S-so the main goal was Yeonjun?" he asked, unable to hide the tremor in his voice. 

“It appears so. The fact that he brought up this issue the day after the funeral shows how impatient he is,” Mr. Lee said, looking at the debt paper with hatred. 

“Mr. Lee, please tell us there is a way out. Please tell us if there are any legal loopholes,” the despair in Wooyoung’s voice made Yeonjun tremble even more. 

“I’m so sorry. Even if there were a legal loophole, these men are the mafia. I don’t think they will easily let go of this matter," he said, pointing to the names on the debt paper. 

Yeonjun cleared his throat, and wiped his tears, looking at the paper. “T-these men?” Yeonjun's eyes widened in disbelief. “Don't tell me that stupid hotel...” 

“Luxe Mirage Hotel... I've heard that hotel hosts one of the biggest secret casinos in Seoul." Mr. Lee frowned and said in a whisper-like voice. "The debt most likely comes directly from there, it was just officially recorded under the hotel name. This means the debt is not clean, but it will be very difficult to prove." 

“A casino?” Yeonjun was almost whispering. So his father was also a gambling addict. “Doshik told me he would take care of that debt too, so, he wants to make me completely dependent on him.” Yeonjun held his aching head in his hands from the information overload. 

“I doubt he will be able to do that.” Mr. Lee said, holding his hand under his chin, as if thinking something. 

“Why wouldn't he be able to? If he has enough money, he will, right?” When Wooyoung’s voice was heard, Yeonjun looked at his friend. The beta's eyes were red, as if he was struggling not to cry. 

“I know the owner of the hotel, and thus the owner of the casino. He is the son of an old friend of your father’s and mine. He is a very clever person. He has probably understood Doshik's intention, so I don't think he will let him pay. From what I see, the debt to Doshik is nothing compared to the casino debt," Mr. Lee said, looking at the two young people listening to him.

Yeonjun laughed in pain. “Why would he do something like that? Why would he decide to protect me just because I'm his father's friend's son, when he could just take his money? Especially when I owe him an amount that he knows I can never pay in my lifetime.” 

Mr. Lee sighed and leaned back. “I’m only speaking on assumptions here, Yeonjun-ssi. But from what I've heard from a few sources, he is very wealthy, so your debt might truly be a negligible amount for him. Also, it’s very clear that he did not allow Doshik to pay off the debt. Doshik had almost all the other debts transferred to himself two months before your father's death. I don't think the reason he couldn't pay the casino debt for two months was a lack of money. Someone must not be accepting the payment.” 

Yeonjun didn't know whether he should feel relieved or even more afraid. There was someone who prevented him from becoming Doshik's prey entirely. But this person might be making even worse plans than Doshik's. His stomach clenched even more, and he closed his eyes. “Thank you very much for the information, Mr. Lee. I understand that there is nothing we can do. I guess I have to accept my fate.” 

Wooyoung saw the painful smile on the omega’s face and wanted to cry. The omega’s face was bright red. One leg was trembling, and his eyes were trying to prevent tears from flowing. But the worst was the despair in his eyes, as if he was looking at Mr. Lee with one last hope, practically begging him. 

“I’m really so sorry, Yeonjun-ssi. I’m truly sorry I couldn’t help you. Still, please take my card and call me if anything is on your mind. I'm here not as a lawyer, but as an old friend of your father's." The old man had a gentle smile on his face. 

Yeonjun took the debt paper and the card with trembling hands and put them in his pocket. Yeonjun and Wooyoung thanked the lawyer and left the building. As Wooyoung drove his car to take Yeonjun home, silence settled on both of their shoulders like a heavy weight. 

"I don't want to leave you alone," Yeonjun shrugged at Wooyoung. 

"I know, Wooyoung. But you've also been through a lot of heavy things today. I think I need to be alone for a bit and think. I'll figure out what to do." 

After a silent drive, Wooyoung drove the car into Yeonjun's yard and stopped. Yeonjun was expecting an interrogation, but Wooyoung only gave him an understanding look. He didn't ask anything or judge. 

Yeonjun hugged Wooyoung before getting out. "Thank you, Woo. For everything." 

"You are never alone, Yeonjun," Wooyoung replied, giving his friend a tight pat on the back. He let him get out of the car and closed the door. Yeonjun smiled at his friend who was looking after him. The strength of his friend had erased some of his fear. 

Alone at home with a debt outstanding, Yeonjun turns Doshik's card over in his hand. If I was already in ruins, what did I have left to lose?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ  🏵 ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆   

A few days had passed. Kai and Wooyoung's intensely caring and supportive visits had helped Yeonjun break free from the oppressive silence at home. Still, the feeling of being trapped was growing with each passing hour.

Explaining the situation to Kai had been easier than he'd expected. The alpha listened silently and sympathized. As Yeonjun waited for his friends to flee in fear and abandon him, both of them had grown clingier. Kai would release soothing pheromones to relieve his stress, while Wooyoung would cook for them. Yeonjun, lost in his thoughts, would sit in the same place for hours.

It was one of those rare moments when he was alone at home. Sitting in the living room, Yeonjun stared at Doshik's green and black card, which he twiddled between his fingers. His stomach churned at the memory of the older alpha's disgusting, suggestive gaze and his words about "payment." This card was a ugly proposition extended to him.

But there was also that massive Luxe Mirage debt looming from the paper on the table. Going to the casino and writing his own fate seemed less humiliating than giving in to Doshik's threats. 

He closed his eyes and took a breath. Thoughts swept through his mind like a wind: The debt must be paid. Either with my body or with my own intelligence. Okay, maybe it wasn't the most rational decision, but Yeonjun couldn't resist the adrenaline he felt in his body after days. 

"If I'm already at zero, I have nothing to lose," Yeonjun whispered, quickly getting up. His heart was pounding too fast. It was impossible for him to pay this debt. Even if he sold all his assets, he couldn't pay it. 

He immediately ran upstairs and went into the bathroom. While showering, he specifically used the most intoxicating shower gel and the sweetest-smelling shampoo. Today, he had to be more intoxicating than ever. After the shower, he looked at his reflection in the mirror: The dullness in his eyes was replaced by the fire of determination. 

He dried his black hair, gave it a slightly messy style, and started rummaging through his wardrobe. 

He chose the sharpest, most attention-grabbing, and confidence-boosting clothes while rummaging through his closet. The tight, shiny black shorts he wore beautifully showcased his long, slender legs, and the fitted black shirt with a transparent back gracefully but sinfully revealed the thinness of his waist and the line of his back. This look would serve as a shield to distract people while he cheated. 

Returning to the bathroom, he did his makeup. He applied very light makeup; just a touch that sharpened his eyes and made his lips look natural but appealing.He took one of the strongest scent patches and carefully applied it to the scent gland. The collar of his shirt left his neck exposed, and the thin chain around his neck emphasized the exposed, elegant lines of his throat. The person looking back from the mirror was no longer the desperate and needy Yeonjun. The confident, sharp-eyed, and self-aware omega was back. 

Yeonjun was doing what he did best: shining perfectly and effortlessly. Brave, free, and untamed... soft but wild, innocent but daring... 

After completing his preparation and leaving the house, Yeonjun’s mood shifted with all the strength he had contained inside. As soon as he got into the waiting taxi, he looked out the window. 

The Luxe Mirage Hotel, which he arrived at in a dark taxi, was truly a monument of grandeur. Its glossy glass facade stretched toward the sky as if hiding the dirty secrets underneath. When he looked  the hotel, Yeonjun experienced a brief shock at the hotel's size and splendor. Even though he was usually surrounded by luxury, this place was different; this luxury was a jaw-dropping intimidation. 

Yeonjun, who gracefully got out of the taxi, couldn't help but look around in awe as he climbed the hotel stairs in his tight black shorts and transparent shirt. 

As he walked through the high-ceilinged, gold-leafed lobby, every detail around him captivated him. The colossal chandeliers in front of the elevators, the dazzling frescoes adorning the ceiling, and the shiny marble fountain in the middle of the lobby... This ostentation helped suppress the fear inside Yeonjun. 

He approached the reception desk and caught the attention of the receptionist, who was speaking loudly. With a sharp, confident posture, he leaned toward the desk. The man at the reception immediately gave him his attention with a gentle smile. "Hello. How may I help you?" 

"I'm not here to stay at the hotel," Yeonjun explained, his voice as calm and authoritative as possible. "I'm a special client. How can I get to the casino floor?" 

As soon as Yeonjun uttered that word, the receptionist's eyes widened in surprise. The man instantly leaped from his spot, grabbed Yeonjun's arm, and rushed him down a dark corridor behind the desk. 

"You must be new here," the employee whispered, his voice containing a threat beyond a mere warning. "We don't mention that 'word' here." 

The employee led Yeonjun to two giant, black, ornate elevators at the end of the corridor. When they got into the elevator, the employee stepped in front of Yeonjun and pressed a few buttons on the panel below the fingerprint reader. 

Yeonjun's unease increased as he looked at the keypad. There were no minus floor buttons on the elevator, but the elevator silently began to descend. This mystery created a new wave of excitement in Yeonjun's veins. As the elevator silently went down, Yeonjun replaced the tension in his stomach with rising adrenaline. They had begun to descend underground, into the unknown.

When the elevator doors opened, Yeonjun’s mouth dropped open in shock. The scene he encountered doubled the luxury of the hotel lobby—but in a darker, wilder way. It was a vast, luxurious hall that stretched as far as the eye could see. Tables illuminated by crystal chandeliers, dark velvet fabrics covering the high ceiling; a color palette dominated by gold and black; and piles of gambling chips glowing despite the dim lighting. 

The sharp scent of expensive alpha pheromones spreading around was mixed with heavy cigar and old whiskey smells. Croupiers in frock coats, glamorous women circling the tables, and hundreds of people playing nervously... The casino was a splendor that would dwarf even the most dazzling halls of Las Vegas. This was the true heart of the underworld. 

Yeonjun felt highly adrenaline spreading through his body. This was an enchantment beyond fear. There was no turning back. 

The employee turned to Yeonjun and bowed with a synthetic smile. "Good luck, sir." 

As Yeonjun stood in the middle of the casino, he felt the eyes of Alphas and Betas in every corner on him. His brave clothes made him stand out. Yeonjun, who didn't know what to do at first, took a deep breath and blended into the crowd. He walked toward the bar he saw, which was in elegant dark wood tones. 

Yeonjun took his place at the bar to suppress the fear inside him. He asked the bartender for something strong and waited. The bartender gave the omega a look—what is someone like you doing here—and poured the amber-colored drink into a glass. When he drank the cold whiskey shimmering in the smooth glass in one gulp, he rebuilt his confidence with the burning sensation going down his throat. With the finishing of the whiskey, the audacious Omega inside him had surfaced. 

Just as he was about to move towards the tables, a pot-bellied, middle-aged Alpha, who looked constricted even in his suit, glided up next to him with his cigar in hand. The Alpha's arrogant gaze scanned Yeonjun's transparent shirt and invited him to the roulette table with a mocking voice. Yeonjun, staying true to his role, accepted the invitation with a cold smile placed on his lips. 

He deliberately lost small amounts in the first two hands of roulette; this was just an opening game to present the impression to the surrounding crowd that he was an ordinary gambler. When he decided he had distracted enough, his gaze drifted to the quiet Blackjack table in the far corner of the casino, and he walked towards it. 

As he walked towards the table, he narrowed his eyes and scanned the area again. A sharp sensation, coming from a cold place, like the gaze of a predator, shivered Yeonjun's spine from top to bottom. His Omega instinctively tensed and shuddered against this pressure, but Yeonjun made sure to keep the expression on his face ice-cold and calm. 

Yeonjun sat down at the blackjack table. Although his hands trembled a little, he started the game, recalling the card counting techniques he had learned in high school. In the first hands, he gained trust by playing according to the rules. Then, he put his plan into action. As the dealer dealt the cards, Yeonjun leaned forward with a very slow and elegant movement; this was a diversion that made his unmated neck under his transparent shirt draw attention. While eyes naturally drifted there, Yeonjun's mind quickly calculated the cards leaving the game and predicted the next card. When it was time to collect the cards, he changed a card hidden under his hand with only a millisecond of speed; this fluid and invisible movement created a flawless illusion amidst his slightly flirtatious moves. 

With every big chip he won by cheating, Yeonjun played an uncaring and glamorous role, placing an innocent smile of luck on his face. However, the cold feeling of being watched climbing up his spine was a heavy burden that hindered the happiness of the money he won. This feeling was a declaration of superiority from a powerful person, and Yeonjun felt a mix of fear and curiosity. As the hours passed and the pile of chips rose, the amount he won by cheating increased rapidly. Yeonjun's eyes were shining, but even this large amount he won was far, far below the debt he owed to Luxe Mirage. 

Just as he was struggling with this disappointment, the dealer at the head of the table leaned over the edge of the table with barely hidden nervousness in his eyes and whispered: "Excuse me, sir. But could you spare a minute? Someone wants to play a game with you." 

Yeonjun's eyebrows furrowed. His heart started beating fast. He scanned the tables with his eyes, trying to find who invited him. When the dealer whispered the amount the man inviting Yeonjun wanted to play for, Yeonjun's eyes widened in shock. 

The amount was enough to pay off all his debts, and even more. This was his last chance.

“Please follow me.” He started walking behind the croupier. The croupier passed every table and walked toward the bar. Yeonjun looked around in surprise. As they proceeded toward the corridor next to the bar, Yeonjun frowned. 

“Where are we going? We left all the tables behind.” He stopped next to the bar before entering the dimly lit corridor. 

“Ah, the person who wants to play with you is the boss. We are going to the boss's room,” the croupier said, continuing to smile as if he had said something completely normal. 

But it was not normal at all. Yeonjun could feel the stress inside him increasing. The boss wanted to play a game with him. Yeonjun's heart began to pound in his chest with a pure fear, very different from the adrenaline rush of the cheating he had done earlier. Did the eyes he felt belong to the boss? The owner of the eyes he constantly felt behind him was now calling him with a private invitation. 

The croupier started walking towards the dimly lit corridor again. Yeonjun had already accepted that there was no chance of escaping from here. When he looked at the elevator he had arrived in, there were men in suits there whom he was sure hadn't been there before. Yeonjun didn't know any other way out. He followed the croupier down the corridor. 

They found out I cheated. Now I'm going to my death, Yeonjun's entire body tensed with the thought echoing in his mind. The corridor was far from the noise of the casino, a deep silence reigned. The rising stress and anxiety with every step burned the thin skin on Yeonjun's neck. A cold drop of sweat running down his nape disappeared into the fabric of his transparent shirt. 

The croupier stopped in front of the heavy door at the end of the corridor and opened it. The room was kinda dark, filled with a heavy silence, completely opposite to the light and sound extravaganza of the casino outside. When the door closed, an icy shiver ran down Yeonjun's nape. As soon as he stepped inside, the scent that hit his nose—intense, sharp, yet somehow familiar—filled his lungs, disrupting his heart's rhythm. A deep, woody scent... internally burning, with a knee-weakening heaviness. An alpha scent. His scent... 

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he made out the silhouette sitting at the desk in front of him. Broad shoulders in a black shirt, a leaned-back posture. The ice in the whiskey glass he held cracked in the middle of the silence. The man lifted his head and turned his eyes towards Yeonjun. In that moment, an invisible weight seemed to settle over the room. 

“Soobin...” 

Yeonjun's entire body trembled with shock and tension. The face he saw was a harsher, more brutal version of the face he had left years ago. The sharp straightness of Soobin’s back against the chair was a physical reflection of his emotional distance. His powerful alpha aura dominated every inch of the room, making Yeonjun feel suffocated. 

Soobin's eyes scanned Yeonjun calmly but devastatingly. Every detail was surveyed, from his black hair to his transparent shirt, his shorts, and his trembling legs. Yeonjun felt his knees buckle even more with the penetrating gaze. 

But this gaze contained neither desire nor anger; it was merely an indifferent, objective examination, as if he was looking not at Yeonjun's living body, but at his soul. A wave of hot shame spread across Yeonjun's cheeks against this naked observation, but Soobin's face was unreadable. 

Yeonjun's throat dried up. He involuntarily clasped his hands behind his back, as if he wouldn't notice he was trembling if he did that. 

"I hear you've been winning every hand you play," Soobin said. His voice created a cold echo in the room's silence. This voice, completely devoid of emotion, combined with the familiar scent, caused deep pain inside Yeonjun. His voice had changed, it was thicker and firmer. “I would like to play one hand,” he said, slightly tilting his head, “with someone so lucky.” 

Yeonjun's heart stopped for a moment. The stillness in his voice was so measured... death threats could have sounded warmer than this. He took a breath without making it noticeable, and then managed to ask in a faint voice, “If I win?” 

Soobin set his glass down on the table, the sound of the crystal ringing like a bell in the room. “If you win,” he said, “all your debt will be erased. And you will take your money and leave  ” 

Then a small pause. His eyes bored into Yeonjun’s eyes, his words cutting with the cold sharpness of a knife, “If you lose, your debt will double.” 

Yeonjun's stomach clenched. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. If he won, he would erase his debt and get the hell out of this hell. If he lost... the money he couldn't pay anyway would double. Either way, he had already suffered the real loss; he felt like he had nothing to lose since he was at zero. 

He was knowingly stepping into the fire. Into a game he had already lost. With trembling hands, he gently lifted his head.

“…Let's play,” 

Soobin’s face didn't move. His fixed and unwavering expression drifted for a moment to Yeonjun’s neck. 

His gaze paused for a moment in the hollow of Yeonjun's bare neck, beneath the thin necklace chains. While Yeonjun's omega instinctively tensed, Yeonjun felt this was not just a passing glance. Soobin seemed to be looking for a mark he shouldn't see right now. The icy indifference in his eyes slightly cracked with a piercing question mark in that brief moment—but this was only Yeonjun's own pain-tinged perception. 

Then, Soobin's cold gaze quickly returned to his fox-like eyes and shifted to Yeonjun's trembling fingers. 

Soobin took a deep breath. That woody, smoky scent spread in the room like a rope tightening Yeonjun's nerves. 

"Sit," Soobin said. His voice was neither an invitation nor a command. It was just an undeniable fact. "The game begins." 

Chapter Text

Grasping the gravity of the situation prevented the air from reaching Yeonjun's lungs. He sat silently in the leather armchair, watching the wall opposite him, awaiting what was to come. The mixture of anger, regret, and self-pity that filled him as he recalled how and why he had reached this point consumed him. For the first time in a long time, he felt so pathetic and miserable. 

Making the mistake of taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with the Alpha’s woody scent. It was different. It was drastically unlike the comforting, reassuring scent he remembered last. It was as if it had intensified over the years and become chilling. Just as it should be. It suited the terrifying aura a Mafia leader ought to possess. 

He crossed his long legs, pressed his trembling hands onto his kneecaps, and tried to hide the tremor. Turning his head to the right, he saw that the alpha’s almost-black, dark brown eyes were already fixed on him. Yeonjun searched for a flicker of hope in those eyes. He longed for them to shine as they once did, to make him feel that everything was in the past and he was safe now. But the only thing he found in those eyes was danger. 

The alpha's silence fell over the room like a nightmare. To hide the fear in his own gaze, Yeonjun adopted the indifferent look he always wore, fixing his foxy eyes on the alpha. The alpha’s lips curved slightly when he saw Yeonjun's emotionless face, but it didn't last long. Yeonjun wasn't even sure if he had seen it correctly. 

"We are going to play a very simple game with you," the alpha said in an icy voice. He took a deck of playing cards from the desk drawer and began shuffling them in his hands. 

Yeonjun's eyes drifted to the long fingers shuffling the deck. He shuffled them so effortlessly that Yeonjun tilted his head slightly in astonishment. He watched the alpha shuffle the cards with curiosity in his eyes, his lips slightly pouting. 

After spreading the cards in a semi-circle on the table, the alpha's gaze met his again. Yeonjun corrected his expression and cleared his throat. 

In a cold voice, the Alpha said, "Draw two cards. Choose one of them. We will sequentially shuffle both cards on the table without turning them over. After we are both certain they are mixed, we will each take one. The one to turn over the card you chose wins." 

Yeonjun was surprised by how simple the game was but did not object. It was a straightforward game left entirely to chance. He reached for the table and randomly drew two cards: a King and a 2 of Clubs. He pushed the King card toward Soobin. "This one." 

Soobin nodded, took the two cards, shuffled them, and offered them to Yeonjun. As their fingers brushed while Yeonjun took the cards, he felt a faint spark shoot from the Alpha's cold fingertips and course through his body. He quickly withdrew his hands as if he had touched fire, then shuffled the two cards until he was certain they were thoroughly mixed, and placed them face down on the table. His sharp eyes fixed on the Alpha, asking what he should do next. 

"You go first." His gaze did not linger on Yeonjun's face; it was merely like a shadow gliding across glass. 

Yeonjun’s fingertips touched the edge of the table, then retracted—a reflex, fluctuating between fleeing and staying. He had a fifty percent chance; he would either win or lose. As his eyes darted between the two cards, his trembling fingers felt as though they had lost their ability to cheat. Though, he was in no position to cheat now; he was merely focused on survival. 

His hands trembled as he picked up the card, but he tried to smile—a habit, like armor. The sight that greeted him when he flipped the card, however, choked him. The 2 of Clubs stared back mercilessly. His guilt-ridden eyes, hidden behind a fragile silence and desperately seeking escape, met the alpha's jet-black irises. 

Soobin's pupils seemed to see not Yeonjun, but the ghost of his betrayal from seven years ago. That look was a sharp sword that tore apart Yeonjun’s entire defense mechanism. He placed the King card on the table. He used his silence like a gun. He knew the way to dominate without speaking a single word. 

Realizing he could no longer hold back his tears, Yeonjun clenched his jaw in anger; crying was a shame for him. He couldn't cry in front of the alpha. He swallowed painfully, trying to restrain himself from weeping. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, his rapid breathing inflated and deflated his chest like a balloon—uncontrolled panic.

The alpha leaned indifferently back into his armchair; his posture was dominant, as if he were an unshakeable part of the room. Without a word, he rose from the table and took a crystal bottle and a glass from the small bar beside him. He poured the amber liquid from the crystal bottle into the two glasses. 

He walked around the table and sat on the leather armchair opposite the omega. He slid one of the glasses across the coffee table toward the omega. He settled into the chair, his legs casually spread. The sheer dominance established by the alpha's sitting posture made the omega shiver inside. 

He tilted his head slightly, assessing the limits of his patience rather than showing mercy. Instead of speaking, he answered with the sharpness of his breath. He slowly swirled the whisky glass in his hand; even this small action was an announcement of his absolute control. 

Yeonjun wanted to look away, to escape the eyes that gazed into his soul, but he couldn't. He was trapped between his pride and his regret. His shoulders were slightly slumped, but he stubbornly kept his head up, pushing back the tears that threatened to stream from his fox-like eyes. 

The alpha took a sip of his whisky, his gaze never leaving the sharp, stubborn fox eyes. The silence in the room was like the harbinger of a storm about to break. The omega's stubbornness was admirable. Anyone who didn't know him would appreciate how composed he was in the face of losing millions. 

But Soobin knew him. He knew the fear and desperation beneath the omega's unshakeable gaze. He knew that Yeonjun constantly wet his lips with his tongue out of stress, tightly pressed his hands against his kneecaps to hide his trembling, and counted internally to keep his breathing under control. 

Yeonjun wet his lips with his tongue, tasting his cherry-flavored lip gloss again. As the silence lengthened, his heart pounded faster, and stress consumed his body. The corner of his lips curled faintly, not from fear, but from anger at himself. "What happens now?" 

The alpha only continued to fix his gaze upon him. Against Yeonjun's shaky voice, he didn't even shift his shoulders; his unresponsiveness was a wall. Soobin's indifference began to tear down the walls Yeonjun had built. The omega felt naked under the eyes fixed upon him, forcing himself not to look away. He knew, damn it, Soobin knew him too well. His gaze reached deeper into his soul with every passing second. 

"I can't pay this," the words left his mouth, a choking sound that failed to remain steady. His eyes simultaneously apologized and defied, two emotions trapped in the same body. A laugh, mixed with pain, escaped him. He fixed his eyes on the crystal glass, shimmering in the dim light on the coffee table. 

Shit. His emotions were pressing too hard to be suppressed any longer. As the smile on his lips faded, he felt the warmth of tears tracing down his cheeks. It was no longer possible to conceal his collapse. 

Tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes, dropping from his chin to the floor. Even the trembling of his eyelids was like an admission; fear, shame, and longing all mingled together. 

When he met the Alpha's eyes, he swallowed. Those eyes, shining not with brightness but with a dangerous coldness… promised no warmth at all. They were entirely neutral. 

Soobin took another sip of his whisky, looking ruthlessly at the Omega's tear-filled eyes. "Doyou know what happens to those who don't pay their debts, Choi?" 

The surname, uttered from the alpha's deep and controlled voice, built yet another wall between them. Yeonjun sniffled and sat up straighter. If he was going to die, he wouldn't bow to an alpha. If he was going to die, he wouldn't tremble before him. He wouldn't give him that pleasure. "I don't know." 

Soobin took another calm sip of his amber-colored whisky. His eyes fell on Yeonjun's shaky bravery; that gaze examined every crack in Yeonjun's armor, one by one. It was a cold but deep look. It pierced Yeonjun, carrying the cruel wisdom of someone who knew him. 

"You don't know," Soobin repeated, the emphasis in his voice like a sharp whip. "And believe me, you don't want to know." 

This was stronger than an explicit threat; it was like gazing into a silent, deep well. Actually, Yeonjun knew. He had grown up in the Mafia and knew what happened to those who betrayed or failed to pay their debts. 

Yeonjun's pride clashed with the panic inside him. He was desperate, yes, but the fact that Soobin was so different from the man he had left seven years ago made the feeling of humiliation even more searing.

Yeonjun pressed his trembling hands tighter against his knees. The area around his eyes was reddened from pushing back his tears, but he locked his jaw to keep his face lifted. Despite his fragility, the stubborn Omega within him refused to give up. 

Soobin noticed this obstinate resistance. The corner of his lips twitched with a tiny curve but immediately froze. 

"There must be a way to pay the debt," Yeonjun pushed. His voice came out louder than he expected—a challenge. "What do you want from me, then?" 

Soobin slightly pulled his shoulders back. Even the small movement in his body increased the pressure in the room. His broad shoulders under his white shirt stood like a wall. He placed the whisky glass on the coffee table. 

His cold, but absolutely focused eyes never left Yeonjun's. 

"I have an offer for you," Soobin said. His voice was like a player explaining the rules of a new game. 

Yeonjun calmly raised his eyebrows. He had accepted that he wouldn't get out of this easily. He was aware that the Alpha's offer would actually be a compulsion, not a choice. 

"Your entire debt will be wiped clean," Soobin began. His voice was calm and definite. "Your life will be spared. You will be free from Yoo Doshik's disgusting hands. In return... I want you to play the role of my fiancé." 

Yeonjun's breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted across Soobin's face in astonishment. He forgot the tears streaming down his cheeks. He was experiencing an unbelievable shock. This was definitely unexpected, outside of every idea that had crossed his mind. 

"What?" Yeonjun whispered. His voice was like broken glass. "Why would you want something like that? Why a fiancé role?" 

"The only thing that matters to me is business, Yeonjun." Yeonjun flinched at hearing his name without a respectful suffix. This was an open message. I no longer respect you. "My company needs strong PR advertising in the new media age. I need an image that is stable, reliable, and upscaled in the public eye." 

Yeonjun's eyebrows furrowed further. "You have a company?" he questioned. This was unexpected information from the owner of Luxe Mirage. It slapped him in the face with how much everything had changed in Soobin's life. 

"Furthermore," Soobin continued, as if he hadn't heard Yeonjun's question. "I need to maintain the balance of power within the Mafia. Establishing a stable bond will solidify my position. And you are the perfect choice. Your beauty, your education, and your image in society... you are a flawless accessory." 

Accessory. This derogatory word struck Yeonjun's reawakening pride like a slap. Yeonjun swallowed. The alpha's flattery only diminished him further. You are beautiful, educated, and have a very good public image, but you are merely a decoration. 

"You said I would be free from Doshik?" Yeonjun expressed his surprise that the alpha was aware of Doshik. He was avoiding voicing the thoughts running through his head. 

The alpha laughed in disbelief. "You didn't really believe he wanted to save you, did you?" 

Of course, the omega knew the old man's intentions weren't to save him. From what Mr. Lee had told him in the past few days, he understood the disgusting man's goal much better. 

Soobin took his whisky and another sip. "I don't know exactly what he told you, but he will never be able to pay the debt you owe here. Only you can pay this debt. If you accept my offer, I will end your debt to him. If you don't, you will live and see what happens." 

Soobin watched the turmoil inside Yeonjun and delivered the final blow. His cold yet deep gaze pierced the shiver of fear running down Yeonjun's shoulder. "Make your choice wisely, Choi. I give you five days." The determination in Soobin's voice made Yeonjun's entire body tremble. "If you don't want to be an old man's Omega, who is nearly forty years older than you, forever... you know where to find me." 

Soobin stood up. His posture was as unshakeable as a mountain; his shadow fell over Yeonjun. This last sentence was a cruel calculation made by someone who knew Yeonjun's deep attachment to his independence. The Doshik threat was now a rope in Soobin's hands. 

Soobin walked toward the door without another word and left the room without looking back. Yeonjun remained frozen in the leather armchair. As the intense alpha scent in the room slowly dissipated, only terror and tears were left behind. 

Yeonjun continued to stare into space. The trembling in his body had turned into an uncontrollable shudder. The weight of Soobin's offer; the horrific dilemma between the disgusting implication of being Doshik's Omega and Soobin's golden cage, gnawed at Yeonjun's mind. 

The tears had stopped, replaced by a hot, burning anger. With a trembling hand, he quickly pushed the amber whisky glass on the coffee table as if it were a curse burning him. The glass didn't tip over, only slid a little and stopped, but even that small movement drained all of Yeonjun's strength. 

A few minutes later, the door knocked and the croupier reappeared. His face held neither mercy nor anger, reflecting only the emotionlessness of someone doing his duty. 

"Mr. Choi, please follow me." 

Yeonjun rose from the leather armchair with the last shred of his broken pride. His legs were still shaky, but without Soobin’s gaze, he managed to stand straight. He didn't want anyone to see how devastated he was. 

Following the croupier, he walked through the corridor as if entering another dimension and returned to the clamor of the casino. The hall was still gleaming with gold and sin, but for Yeonjun, this extravagance was now just the walls of a cruel prison. He felt as if everyone's eyes were on him, as if everyone knew he had lost. 

Stopping his spiral of thoughts, he got into the elevator and watched the croupier depart. He exited the elevator and stepped out the front entrance, down the dazzling staircase of Luxe Mirage. 

The night air cooled the dried tear tracks on his face. As he moved to take out his phone to call a taxi, he saw a black, sharply-creased sedan stop on the sidewalk. 

The driver's door of the car opened and an alpha, a few centimeters shorter but stocky, stepped out. He had big eyes and a straight nose; his face carried a sense of calm. 

The alpha took a step toward Yeonjun and opened the car door. "I will take you home, Mr. Choi." His tone was deep and respectful. "Mr. Choi's orders." 

Yeonjun's eyebrows furrowed in anger. The first thought that crossed his mind was a self-preservation instinct. No, I won't trust the word of an alpha I don't know and get into the car. 

"Why should I believe that?" Yeonjun asked, trying to keep his voice under control. The fire in his eyes scrutinized the man. 

The alpha didn't hesitate. He took his phone from his inner jacket pocket and quickly turned the screen toward Yeonjun. The screen displayed a single-sentence message: 

Ensure his return is safe. – CS 

"I will take you home, Mr. Choi," the alpha repeated, bowing slightly. 

Yeonjun hesitated. He saw the sincerity in the alpha's large eyes; this was a duty, not a threat. Yeonjun sighed, accepting defeat. 

"Alright." 

Yeonjun sat in the back with reluctance. When the door closed, the dark sedan silently pulled away. Not a single word was exchanged during the journey. Yeonjun stared out at the road, trying to process this new move of surveillance by Soobin. 

Shortly after, the car stopped in front of his house. The alpha opened the door again and bowed respectfully. 

"Good night, Mr. Choi." 

Yeonjun nodded slightly and stepped out. He had reached his home, under Soobin's watch. The car waited until Yeonjun went inside. Before locking the door, he heard the black car silently slide away. 

After gently locking the heavy door behind him, his attempt to take a deep breath turned into a painful ache in his lungs. He headed toward the stairs, but his legs were so shaky and heavy that they stopped him from taking another step. He leaned against the wall in the dark corner of the living room. Without even thinking of taking off his boots, heavy tears began to fall. 

Clutching the wall, he slid to the floor. His back was pressed against the cold wall, his knees drawn to his chest, his hands pressing shakily against his legs. Everything was blurry, every sound distant. The fear and anger accumulated inside him mingled, blurring his vision. Soobin's offer and threat echoed ruthlessly in his mind. 

Soobin. That icy gaze. Familiar yet foreign. 

The coldness of the wall, combined with the faint light hitting his face, made him feel even more alone. He was trapped between the fake engagement Soobin offered, freedom from Doshik, and the loss of his own independence. His mind spiraled like a labyrinth with no exit. One part of his mind wanted to be saved, while the other feared losing his freedom.

"What am I going to do…" the sentence escaped his lips in a trembling voice and vanished in the house's silence. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to his knees. Tears left warm trails from his chin down to his neck. 

He was devastated and broken; every trembling breath was filled with the burden of the past and the uncertainty of the future. 

After a while, he slightly lifted his head but remained motionless. He considered taking a shower, pulling himself together, but he didn't want to do anything. 

He merely dragged himself to the bedroom and threw his boots into a corner. He hid his trembling body under the covers that smelled like his nest. 

When he buried his face in the pillow, his last remaining tears soaked the bed. Soobin's new, ruthless alpha scent remained in his nostrils as a haunting memory. When his mind realized it couldn't solve this terrifying dilemma, it shut down with a protective mechanism. 

Yeonjun fell asleep immediately, as if dropping into a deep void. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ 🏵 ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

The morning light streamed through the gap in the curtains in a thin line onto the bed. The first thing he felt when he opened his eyes was weight. He felt a slight throbbing as he tried to lift his head from the pillow. It was that foolish, familiar consequence of crying himself to sleep. He rubbed his eyes, noticing the dried, salty tracks caught in his eyelashes. 

"Ugh…" he groaned to himself. 

He couldn't recall how long he had slept, but the shaky fatigue of his body was still there. He slowly sat up, and the cold of the floor jolted him as he swung his feet out of bed. He headed straight for the bathroom, hoping the confusion in his head would lessen if he got into the water. 

The sound of the hot water alone felt comforting as soon as he turned on the shower. He quickly undressed and stepped into the cabin; the heat hit his skin and spread from his shoulders down his entire body. He didn't move for a while. He stood under the water, trying to breathe. 

But Yeonjun didn't want to think about what had happened anymore. Only a single sentence passed through his mind as his fingers ran through his hair. 

"Cleanse… at least a little." 

The silence under the water seemed to mute the reality outside for a few minutes, but his body still carried tension. His shoulders were tense, his breath shallow. No matter how much he washed, the pressure in his mind didn't wash away with the water. 

When he stepped out of the shower, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His under-eye area was slightly bruised, and his hair fell messily across his forehead. He looked at himself not with self-pity, but with tired acceptance. 

"Fairly well…" he said in a muted voice. 

He quickly wrapped himself in a towel and returned to the room. He noticed his fingers were still slightly trembling even as he opened the closet door.

He didn't scold himself this time; he didn't have the energy to; he just acted quickly. He put on a simple t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants. The clothes were light, but his body still felt heavy. 

As he headed for the stairs, he felt a slight weakness in his legs. His sighs grew deeper with every step down. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, a familiar scent hit his nose. 

Coffee. 

The hot, fresh, roasted coffee scent filled the house. Yeonjun paused for a moment, slightly steadying himself on the last step of the staircase. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent. 

"At least… a good start for day." 

Then, he dragged his steps toward the kitchen; still tired, still cracked, still unsure of what to do… 

The kitchen presented a very usual scene. Despite the dark circles under their eyes, he sat at the elegant dining table. Wooyoung and Kai were waiting for him. 

Breakfast had already turned into lunch. The scent of coffee wafting from the kitchen couldn't suppress the tension in the large house. 

"Darling, you're finally up," Wooyoung said, trying to hide the worry in his voice. He handed a cup filled with fresh coffee to Yeonjun. "Are you going to tell us what happened last night now? We're so curious. Even from outside, your scent smelled bitter." 

Yeonjun first thought of denying it and saying nothing happened. But the two had probably seen him sleeping in those clothes and with his messy makeup. Wooyoung was raising his eyebrows, giving him the look that said, we know something happened. 

Yeonjun held the hot coffee, trying to warm his cold hands. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth. 

"I went to the casino." Yeonjun whispered.

Yeonjun's words dropped onto the table like a bomb. After a long moment of silence, Yeonjun looked up at his friends. Their faces held pure astonishment and shock. 

Wooyoung let out a sarcastic laugh. "What did he say? I think I heard wrong." 

Kai shook his head with wide eyes. 

"What do you mean you went to the casino? Yeonjun! Are you crazy? How could you go there alone? I can't believe it! What if they had done something to you? What if they had detained you? Yeonjun, have you lost your mind!" Wooyoung continued to yell at Yeonjun as if he had gone mad. 

Yeonjun looked at his reflection in his coffee cup and sighed. Like a child being scolded by his mother, he listened to his friend's reprimand without lifting his face. Wooyoung's gaze hardened with disappointment and intense protective instinct. 

Kai intervened in a calmer voice. "Wooyoung Hyung, calm down. Let him talk. Hyung, what happened?" 

Yeonjun shook his head. He first recounted how well he had won, and how he had cheated. Wooyoung scolded him for being so irresponsible as to cheat in a dangerous casino. Then he told them he was caught and played one more game with the boss. His friends looked at him with fear.

"Yes, the debt doubled. But that's not the horrifying part. The owner of the casino... was Soobin." 

The room suddenly froze. The anger on Wooyoung's face instantly solidified, replaced by great astonishment. 

"Soobin?!" Wooyoung gasped, his eyes wide. "Our Soobin? I mean, the kind, little one... the one who used to hang out with us? I heard wrong, didn't I?" 

Yeonjun confirmed it again with pain. "It's hard to believe, isn't it?" 

Wooyoung ran his hands through his hair and leaned back. His mind was transported back to the high school corridors. High school corridors, Soobin's bright, round face, and him running to Yeonjun's side every break... Despite being a grade younger, he was always a shadow behind Yeonjun Hyung. He was a very kind and thoughtful alpha. Wooyoung always appreciated the alpha's sincere, charming behavior. Now it was hard to believe that the little alpha was a Mafia boss. 

"Wooyoung Hyung, who are you talking about?" Kai asked, affected by the intensity of this personal history. 

"Choi Soobin, Kai. An old friend of ours. Someone Yeonjun was close to," Wooyoung explained, still astonished. "So what did he do? Did he clear the debt? Did he help out for the sake of old friendship?" 

Yeonjun took a painful breath. He shook his head. "No. That man is not the Soobin we knew. It was as if... as if he were a completely different person. I had never felt so much like a stranger in my life. His eyes... looked at me like a stranger. He didn't clear the debt. He made me an offer." 

Yeonjun began to speak again in a broken voice and explained Soobin's fake engagement offer. 

Wooyoung's eyebrows slowly furrowed. "So, for PR advertising. He has both a Mafia and a company? What kind of life is that?" 

Kai spoke for the first time in a long while. His eyes were still wide with shock. "Choi Soobin... the owner of a company?" 

When Kai heard that name, the pieces clicked into place in his head. His eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed his phone in shock. He began searching for something on the screen. 

"Oh my God, I know Choi Soobin!" Kai exclaimed. "I don't know how many times I've seen him in magazines. He's one of the fastest-rising, most successful CEOs of recent times! He founded his own tech company from scratch. Wait a minute..." 

Kai excitedly turned his phone toward the other two. 

Yeonjun was shocked by the face he saw on the Google page. The cold seriousness of the man in the photo belonged to the Mafia boss from last night, but here he stood in an expensive suit, with a trustworthy and professional smile. Yeonjun nodded to confirm it was him.

Kai continued to explain, rapidly scrolling his finger across the screen. His voice was filled with an incredible expression. 

"Look, there are very important articles about him in global business magazines like Forbes and Wired. In the latest article in the magazine, he was named among the '50 Leaders to Watch This Year' for his groundbreaking work in technology and data. The company he founded, 'ChoiTech,' is leading the sector in fields like artificial intelligence and blockchain. His power in the global market is growing at an incredible speed. This man must be a genius! An unbelievable strategist. He was constantly coming up in the media, Hyung, how did you not notice?" 

Yeonjun looked with a mix of astonishment and confusion. It was almost impossible that he hadn't heard all this information. He himself was the editor-in-chief of Korea's fastest-rising fashion magazine. It was professionally unbelievable that Soobin would be in such important magazines and he wouldn't notice. 

Was Soobin living a secret life?

Wooyoung turned back to Yeonjun in astonishment. This was a reality that pushed the limits of imagination. "Both Mafia and CEO... Soobin has grown up. But he's grown up in a terrifying way."

Yeonjun took his hand to his forehead and began to lightly massage his temples with his palms. He closed his eyes; his fatigue and disappointment were overwhelming. 

"Now I understand better why he wants to me play the role of his  fiancé." Yeonjun let out a deep sigh. His shoulders were slightly slumped. "It would really be great for PR. After all... I'm also the director of the highest-selling magazine of recent times. The rising CEO of ChoiTech and the director of the most talked-about fashion magazine. When his global reputation merges with my social circle and media power... He will gain credibility in the media, and I will... be free from Doshik. Just business. A flawless accessory." 

The emphasis in Yeonjun's last sentence revealed his inner pain. 

"So what are you going to do, Hyung?" Kai asked seriously. 

Yeonjun scanned the table with his eyes. The panic of last night had been replaced by cold, strategic thought. 

"He gave me five days. I need to think," he said. His voice was sharp and determined. "But the only thing I know is that I won't choose Doshik. Choosing that path means cutting my wings at the root and shrouding my soul. Rather than becoming Yoo Doshik's Omega," Yeonjun's eyes shone with cold stubbornness, "I'd prefer to enter Soobin's golden cage. Even if I'm restricted there, my wings will still be intact. And one day, I can break that cage with my own hands."

Chapter Text

When the door closed behind him, that heavy, broken air inside hung on Soobin’s shoulders. He didn’t pause even for a second where he stood. His steps advanced down the corridor, hard and rhythmic, without echoing. His shoulders were straight, his chin slightly up; it was that invisible wall no one dared to approach. 

It wasn't anger he felt. Anger would be hot, explosive. What he felt was like liquid nitrogen coursing through his veins; burning cold and sharp. 

He pressed the button for the private elevator at the end of the corridor. As the metallic doors slid open, he saw his own lack of expression in the mirrored surface inside. He stepped in. As the doors closed, his right hand involuntarily clenched into a fist, knuckles straining until they turned white. 

He leaned his back against the cold metal of the elevator. He threw his head back slightly. 

Yeonjun. 

His mind replayed the previous scene like a film strip. Yeonjun’s momentary pause the second he entered the room... There was no scent. Soobin slightly curled his nose. That damn scent patch on his neck. It had hidden his scent, his identity, his fear. As if he thought Soobin wouldn't be able to read him with that patch on. 

Fool, he thought. I don’t need your scent to understand you. 

His eyes were loud enough. 

As the elevator rapidly ascended to the upper floors, towards the hotel's executive offices, Soobin suppressed the urge to loosen his tie. He had seen how Yeonjun pressed his hands into his knees to keep from trembling. How he locked that stubborn jaw, how he held his breath to stop the tears from falling... Soobin hadn't missed any of it. That small, proud omega still thought he could hide the wreckage inside him with that upright posture. 

The elevator stopped on the top floor. Ding. The sound cut the silence like a knife. 

When Soobin entered his office, the sterile, expensive room scent filled his lungs but didn't bring him comfort. It only sharpened his mind further. He carelessly tossed his jacket onto the leather sofa. He didn't stop in the middle of the room, walking directly toward the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, toward the indifferent lights of Seoul. 

The calm part of the city sparkled below, but only one image was stuck in Soobin's mind: Yeonjun’s helpless yet defiant gaze. 

“There must be a way to pay off the debt,” that crack at the edge of his voice... made Soobin grit his teeth. 

But the thing that truly angered him was something else. 

Yeonjun’s hesitation. 

Soobin had offered him a way out, a path that would save his life. A golden ticket. But Yeonjun... that foolish omega, had paused, even if only for a second. He had seen the calculus in his eyes: Soobin or Doshik? 

Yeonjun wouldn't last a week with Doshik. Soobin knew all too well that old man’s definition of a "collection," how he turned omegas into mere pieces of meat, how he tore their souls from their bodies. Doshik wouldn’t break; he would destroy. 

In that split second where he imagined Yeonjun falling into Doshik's hands, the muscle in Soobin's jaw twitched. If Yeonjun was that stupid, then maybe watching him go to Doshik and rot was the lesson he deserved. 

But no. 

Soobin was a businessman. He couldn’t allow his investment to be ruined by someone else. This was a transaction. And Yeonjun was too special a piece to be squandered in Doshik’s clutches. 

He wouldn't let Yeonjun fall into that pit. It would be such a foolish waste that the very thought irritated Soobin. 

He walked over to his desk. He placed his hands on the heavy, black marble surface. He began tapping the desk with his index finger in a slow, rhythmic beat. Tock. Tock. Tock. 

It was his way of controlling his anger. He was angry at himself. Angry that after seven years face-to-face, he had to offer him such a proposal; angry at Yeonjun for falling into this situation... but most of all, angry at Yeonjun. 

His acting like he still had a choice... that momentary hesitation... 

It had scratched at that dark, unnamed place inside Soobin. 

Do you see me as such an enemy? he thought, a scornful, icy smile appearing on his lips. Enough to even consider choosing that old pervert over me? 

He pushed the file on his desk aside. His eyes caught his reflection in the glass. Cold-blooded, expressionless, unbreakable. This was the man Yeonjun saw. This was the man he should see. This was the man he would see. 

He had given him five days. It was more than generous. 

He knew Yeonjun’s pride would be shattered, that he would eat himself up alive in that house. But he had to come. He had to learn to enter that cage without breaking his stubborn wings. 

Soobin spoke in a silent yet definitive tone, as if whispering to the darkness of the night. There was no emotion in his voice, only absolute warning. 

“You have five days, Yeonjun.” 

The rhythm of his fingers on the desk stopped. 

“Don’t... make a foolish choice.” 

The silence in the office, along with the dull reflection of the city lights on the glass, grew heavier. For a while, Soobin tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk with rhythmic patience. 

Then, with the cold determination that commanded the room, he picked up his phone and called a number. 

“Kwon. Come up to the office. Now.” 

The door opened within minutes. Kwon slightly bowed his head as he entered. 

“Sir?” 

Soobin didn't rise from his chair, closing a file without lifting his gaze. His voice was calm, almost indifferent, but the sharp threat within it was easily felt. 

“Put Doshik’s movements around the casino under instant surveillance. Who he talks to, which entrances he uses, when he leaves... all of it.” 

Kwon nodded. “And Choi Yeon—” 

Soobin abruptly raised his head. His eyes shone icy under the lamp. 

Kwon immediately fell silent. 

Soobin continued, his voice dropping even lower; there was cold steel beneath his composure: 

“I don't want him to even cross the same corridor as Doshik for a single second. But do it without him noticing.” 

Kwon bit his lip, cautious. “Should the covert protocol be initiated?” 

Soobin lowered his eyes back to the documents on his desk, as if the subject were unimportant logistics. 

“Yes. beta staff shadowing. No one will notice. Especially not him.” 

Kwon slightly bowed his head. “Understood, sir.” 

When the door closed, the office was once again enveloped in silence. 

Soobin didn't take a long breath; he held his breath, as always, with cold patience. 

He looked out the window for a while. As the night lights flickered across the city, the only truth in his mind became a flat, sharp sentence: 

“Doshik won’t get near him.” 

There was no anger on his face as he said it. 

Just a rational and dangerous certainty unique to an alpha. And no one, especially Yeonjun, would ever know it. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶָ

Four days had passed. 

Yeonjun had refused to take any more leave. His father's funeral, the debts, Soobin's offer... They were all like black holes, but he wouldn't let himself be sucked in and vanish. He was Choi Yeonjun; the youngest and most successful Editor-in-Chief of the country's most prestigious fashion magazine, L'Eclat Korea. Work was his shield. 

When he returned to his office, his assistants and editors sensed his usual flawless, cool, and professional aura. The sound of his low-heeled boots echoed with an authoritative rhythm on the glass-covered office floor. No one could guess the storm inside him, or the sleeplessness beneath his perfect makeup. 

However, during these four days, Yeonjun hadn't only managed the fashion world. The tablet on his desk was now showing not only the latest collections but also Choi Soobin’s world. 

Yeonjun had used the magazine's archives and business contacts to research everything about Soobin. What he saw doubled his astonishment every time. 

Soobin had founded ChoiTech at just 22, without even finishing university. He had coded his first software in a dorm room at 21, then sold it to a global security giant to build his initial capital. At 24, he developed groundbreaking software in cybersecurity. After that, he multiplied his fortune with his work and investments in artificial intelligence and data protection technologies. 

Yeonjun picked up last month's issue of Forbes. Soobin wasn't on the cover, but there was a full-page analysis of him in the "Architects of the Future" dossier inside. In the photo, Soobin wore a black turtleneck, staring at the camera with that familiar cold and sharp gaze. 

> "Choi Soobin is a leader who wields the power of silence. While he generally prefers to stay away from the media, his influence increases daily. He is known as the 'Shadow King' of the technology world." 

>  

Yeonjun bit his lip as he read the article. Shadow King. This nickname was a perfect nod to both his success in the business world and his mysterious identity in the underworld. 

How did I not notice? Yeonjun thought, putting the tablet on the desk. This is my job. To follow trends, rising stars, power. But he... he was hidden in my blind spot. 

This ignorance wounded Yeonjun’s professional pride. But at the same time, he felt an involuntary respect for Soobin’s ability to manage this double life. He wasn't just a mob boss; he was a strategist who managed the world on two different fronts. 

Yeonjun, who wore the mask of a workaholic executive during the day, could take it off at home in the evenings with Wooyoung and Kai. 

Throughout these four days, the two had never left him alone. They met at Yeonjun's large, silent house every evening after work. 

That evening, while Wooyoung was making kimchi jjigae in the kitchen, Kai sat beside Yeonjun in the living room. An old movie was on TV, but no one was watching. 

“Fourth day is over, Hyung,” Kai said, offering the bowl of popcorn. “Is your decision final?” 

Yeonjun gathered his legs beneath him, settling into a more comfortable position on the sofa. He was tired, but his mind was clear. 

“It’s final, Kai. I will choose Soobin.” 

Wooyoung poked his head out of the kitchen, ladle in hand. “So... you accept that fake engagement nonsense? You’re going into that dangerous world next to that man?” 

Yeonjun took a deep breath. His eyes burned with a determined spark in the TV light. 

“Dangerous, yes. But Doshik... he’s a swamp. Soobin is... he’s a chessboard. I won't be a pawn on that board, Wooyoung. I’ll be the Queen. I’ll use his power. He thinks I’m an accessory, but I’ll show him how sharp that accessory can be.” 

Kai smiled slightly. “That’s the Yeonjun Hyung I know. He chooses to change the rules rather than lose the war.” 

Wooyoung grumbled as he brought the food to the table, but there was relief on his face. “Fine, fine. Be the Queen. But please, take care of yourself and call us often, okay? Don't let that mafia punk completely shut you off.” 

The trio ate dinner that evening with the warmth of friendship, despite the uncertainty of the future. Yeonjun had made his decision. Tomorrow was the fifth day. Tomorrow, he would go to Luxe Mirage and stand before Soobin. 

However, fate had another plan for Yeonjun. That night, an unexpected visitor would bring Yeonjun’s plans forward. 

Yeonjun was sheltering in the peace of the evening spent with Wooyoung and Kai. But this peace was cut like a knife by the insistent and impatient ring of the doorbell. It was quite late, the air pitch black. 

The three looked at each other. Wooyoung started to get up, but Yeonjun stopped him. "I'll get it," he said, trying to maintain his posture even though his voice trembled. 

When he opened the door, the heavy, spicy, and rotten scent of alcohol that drifted in with the night cold turned his stomach. 

Yoo Doshik. The old alpha was leaning against the door frame, surveying Yeonjun with a crooked smile. Behind him, two bodyguards stood like statues in the darkness. Doshik didn't wait to be invited, using his shoulder to push the door and step inside. 

"Do you have guests, little omega?" Doshik said, casting a mocking glance at Wooyoung and Kai in the living room. "Saying goodbye to your friends? How touching." 

Kai and Wooyoung quickly rose. Kai, an alpha, let out an instinctive growl, but the heavy, suffocating, and experienced dominance Doshik radiated forced the young alpha to take a step back. 

Yeonjun stepped in front of Doshik. "What do you want? I haven't made my decision yet." 

Doshik walked towards Yeonjun's armchair with his cane and spread out on it as if the house were his own. His eyes traveled over Yeonjun’s body in his house clothes with disgusting hunger. 

"These are just a formality, Yeonjun," Doshik said, his voice oily and slippery. "We both know you'll come to me in the end. You can't pay that debt. But..." He stood up and took a step toward Yeonjun. Violating the distance between them, he wrapped a lock of Yeonjun's hair around his fingers. 

Yeonjun’s entire body tensed with revulsion, but he froze, afraid his friends would be harmed if he pulled back. 

“I'm getting tired of waiting for you,” Doshik whispered. “That beautiful face, those noble manners... The thought of how I’ll train that proud look when I make you my own omega excites me. Forty years... means experience, Yeonjun. I’m not like the young ones.” 

It was clear Doshik didn’t know about Soobin’s offer. He thought he was a victorious hunter, cornering his prey. 

“I’m leaving now,” Doshik said, letting go of Yeonjun's hair and stroking his cheek with the back of his hand. “But soon, I’ll come back to take you to this house. And when that happens, you won't be coming back.” 

Doshik laughed, leaving his heavy and nauseating pheromones behind as he exited the house. 

The moment the door closed, Yeonjun’s legs gave out. That last drop had spilled over. 

Wooyoung and Kai immediately rushed to him. Yeonjun was sobbing, curled up on the carpet, hugging himself and shaking. He was wiping the cheek Doshik had touched harshly, as if he wanted to scrape off his own skin. 

“I can’t do it...” Yeonjun choked out. “I can’t be that man’s... that disgusting man’s puppet. His touch... God, I want to die.” 

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s passed,” Wooyoung whispered, holding Yeonjun tight. “We won't let that happen. Never.” 

Yeonjun lifted his tear-filled eyes. A moment of breaking occurred in his gaze. Fear gave way to icy acceptance. 

“Soobin,” he said, his voice suddenly clear. “I’ll accept his offer right away. I have no other choice. Rather than falling into that man's hands, I’ll be Soobin’s pawn.” 

Yeonjun quickly stood up, wiping his tears. “He told me... he knows where to find me. I have to go. Right now.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Wooyoung grabbed his arm. “Yeonjun, you can't go back to that casino at this hour of the night. You saw it, it's hell. I won't let you go alone.” 

Yeonjun stopped helplessly. “Where else can I find him, Woo? He said five days, but Doshik won't wait. I have to find Soobin.” 

Kai broke his silence, putting his phone in his pocket. There was an intelligent sparkle in his eyes. 

“ChoiTech,” Kai said. 

Both turned to him. 

“The casino is his nightlife,” Kai explained. “But he's a CEO. And tomorrow is Thursday. He’ll be at his company first thing in the morning. If you're going to make a deal with him, you should do it with a businessman, not a mob boss. Play on your own turf, Hyung.” 

A lightning bolt struck Yeonjun's mind. Kai was right. He wouldn’t go to the darkness of the underworld, but to that skyscraper that reached up to the sky. 

Not as a victim, but as a partner. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶָ

The next morning, when Yeonjun looked at his reflection in the mirror, there was no trace of the sobbing omega from last night. 

He wore a custom-designed, midnight blue suit that he rarely wore even for magazine shoots. The cut of the jacket gracefully hugged his waist and straightened his shoulders. The collar of the silk shirt underneath was slightly open, but it was a display of confidence, not an invitation. His hair was slicked back, fully exposing his face. 

He was Choi Yeonjun. One of the names that steered Korea's fashion world. And today, he was going to a business meeting. 

When Yeonjun got out of his car and arrived in front of the ChoiTech building, he raised his head and looked at the massive glass tower piercing the sky. The building was a castle woven from cold steel and reflective glass. As dark and suffocating as Soobin’s casino was, this place was bright, sterile, and unattainable. 

The automatic glass doors silently slid open. Yeonjun entered the wide lobby, the authoritative sound of his heeled ankle boots echoing on the marble floor. Suit-clad employees rushing around turned to look at the striking and famous omega. 

Yeonjun walked up to the reception desk, ignoring every gaze. 

"I'd like to see CEO Choi Soobin," he said. His voice was clear and professional. 

The beta attendant at the desk, impressed by Yeonjun's aura, remembered the procedure. "Did you have an appointment, sir? Mr. Choi does not accept walk-in meetings." 

Yeonjun removed his sunglasses with a graceful movement and placed them on the desk. He leaned slightly forward, a defiant spark in his eyes. 

"I am Choi Yeonjun," he said. "The Editor-in-Chief of L'Eclat Korea. And rest assured, Mr. Choi won't mind the appointment when he hears I've arrived." 

The attendant slightly flinched upon hearing Yeonjun's name. It was impossible not to know this giant of the business world. He immediately picked up the phone in front of him and called upstairs with a trembling voice. 

A short, whispered conversation ensued. When the attendant hung up, his face was even more respectful. 

“I apologize, Mr. Choi. Please, our CEO is expecting you. Top floor.” 

Yeonjun thanked him with a slight nod and headed for the elevators. As he stepped into the elevator, his heart was not as calm as he appeared outwardly. It was pounding against his ribcage. 

As the elevator rapidly ascended, Yeonjun took a deep breath. You can do this. You are not an accessory. You are a partner. 

The elevator doors opened on the top floor. The sight that greeted him was the pinnacle of minimalist luxury. A large, open space, modern art pieces, and a view of the city. 

But what caught Yeonjun's attention was the secretary's desk in front of the CEO's office. 

The tall, broad-shouldered alpha with large eyes and a straight nose, sitting at the desk in a pristine suit, stood up when he saw Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun paused. This was the driver who had dropped him off at the casino that night. So he was not just a driver, but Soobin’s right-hand man or private secretary. 

The alpha gave a slight, respectful nod, indicating he recognized Yeonjun. There was a professional expression on his face, but his eyes held a hidden meaning, as if to say, "We were expecting you." 

“Welcome, Mr. Choi,” the alpha said in a resonant voice. “Mr. Choi is waiting for you inside.” 

The alpha opened the enormous, dark-wood double doors across from him. 

Yeonjun adjusted his suit one last time, raised his chin, and stepped inside, into the wolf's den—or, in this case, the king's tower. 

The office was even more impressive than the secretary's desk outside. It was like a physical manifestation of minimalist luxury and absolute power. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls laid Seoul at his feet, and the gray and black tones of the furniture within added an icy seriousness to the space. 

Yeonjun let his eyes wander the room. His gaze didn't linger on the expensive art pieces or the view; it locked directly onto the man sitting behind the massive, mahogany desk in the center of the room. 

Choi Soobin. 

The dark, dangerous mob leader from four nights ago was gone. In his place was CEO Choi Soobin, with his flawlessly ironed white shirt, slightly loosened tie, and thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. When he looked up from his computer screen at Yeonjun, there was neither threat nor mockery on his face. Just the stance of a pure, calculating businessman. 

Soobin took off his glasses and placed them on the desk. He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Soobin said. His voice was smooth and calm. His emphasis was clear: I knew you would come, but I thought you’d come to the casino. I didn’t expect you to enter my domain this way. 

Yeonjun savored this veiled surprise. 

Without saying a word, he walked across the room, the tock of his heels resonating. He headed for one of the modern, leather single-seat chairs in front of the desk. He sat down without waiting for an invitation, crossing his legs. As the trousers of his midnight blue suit slid up, his elegant leather boots were revealed. 

He took a deep breath. And his lips curled slightly at what he noticed. 

There was no scent. 

That intense, dizzying, lung-burning woody scent from the casino was completely gone. Soobin, like himself, was wearing a professional scent patch. Here, in this glass tower, he ruled with his intellect, not his pheromones. This situation further emboldened the warrior inside Yeonjun. They were on equal terms. Or at least, Yeonjun wanted to feel that way. 

He straightened his back, lifting his chin. All that was left of the crying boy from last night was a sharp determination. 

“If I'm not mistaken,” Yeonjun said, his voice echoing clearly and confidently in the office's acoustics. “This agreement is also a very meaningful PR move for your CEO identity. So why don't we do it here, where it belongs?” 

This was a challenge. He was saying, You can’t drag me down to the underground, I will meet you on the surface. 

Soobin noticed this move by Yeonjun, and that familiar old spark in his eyes. An ambiguous, weary smile, icy yet appreciative, formed at the corners of his lips. 

“You're right,” Soobin said, short and crisp. “Then let’s put the obstinacy aside and talk business.” 

Soobin reached for the sleek intercom device on his desk and pressed a button. He didn't take his eyes off Yeonjun’s challenging gaze for a moment. 

“Mr. Kang,” he said into the device. “Please bring the draft of the contract with Mr. Choi into the room.” 

Yeonjun paused for a moment at the address "Mr. Choi" but kept his expression neutral. They were both Choi. It was a strange twist of fate. 

The door was tapped and opened shortly after. The large-eyed, well-built alpha secretary who had driven Yeonjun home that night, and who he had just seen outside, entered. He was holding a black, matte file. 

The secretary respectfully placed the file on Soobin's desk, then gave Yeonjun a brief, professional nod and quietly left the room. 

Soobin took the file. He didn't open the cover. He just ran his hand over it, as if weighing the terms inside. Then, he slid the file across the desk toward Yeonjun. 

“Read the terms,” Soobin said. His tone was more of an instruction than a negotiation. “These are mandatory terms for me. My red lines. But still...” Soobin leaned slightly forward, putting his glasses back on. “...if you have other ideas, we can discuss them. After all, we’re doing business now, aren’t we?” 

Yeonjun looked at the black file in front of him. This was not just a piece of paper; it was the script that would determine the next period of his life. As Yeonjun's eyes skimmed the lines, his eyebrows furrowed a little more with each clause. 

Contract Clauses 

1. PUBLIC IMAGE AND NATURE OF THE ROLE

* Clause 1: The parties will portray a couple deeply bound by passion and loyalty, progressing toward marriage, in front of the media and in public. Displaying coldness, distance, or signs of argument is strictly forbidden. 

* Clause 2: “Party B” (Choi Yeonjun) will refrain from any action, word, or body language that could damage the reputation of “Party A” (Choi Soobin), cause public suspicion, or ruin the "happy couple" image. 

1. RESIDENCE AND SECURITY PROTOCOL

* Clause 3: Due to security risks and the requirement of credibility, Party B must move out of his current residence and move into the Choi Mansion, where Party A resides, within 24 hours of signing the contract. Living in separate homes is out of the question for security reasons. 

* Clause 4: Party B cannot refuse the surveillance and protection of the security personnel assigned by Party A. Every location he visits must be instantly shared with the security team. 

III. EXCLUSIVITY AND SCENT INTEGRITY 

* Clause 5: During the contract period, Party B is strictly forbidden from engaging in a romantic or sexual relationship with any other alpha, beta, or omega. 

* Clause 6: Scent Integrity: The presence of another pheromone's scent on Party B, other than Party A (Choi Soobin), will be considered a severe breach of contract. Tolerance will not be shown, especially toward scents belonging to other alphas. 

1. PHYSICAL CONTACT AND PHEROMONE REGULATION

* Clause 7: Close contact such as holding hands, hugging, or touching the waist is mandatory in public areas or at private events where credibility is required. Party B cannot avoid these contacts or react with flinching. 

* Clause 8: In emergency situations or environments where other alphas are threatening, Party B will permit Party A to release his scent (scenting) or display dominance similar to a temporary marking (excluding biting the neck). 

1. ACCESSIBILITY AND PRIORITY

* Clause 9: Party B is obliged to respond to Party A’s calls and messages 24/7, within a maximum of 15 minutes. 

* Clause 10: Company dinners, launches, or "special" (underworld/mafia-related) meetings requested by Party A will always take priority over Party B's personal calendar and current job (L'Eclat Korea). 

1. COMMUNICATION

* Clause 11: All statements, interviews, or social media shares given to the media must be submitted for Party A's prior approval. 

VII. SYMBOL AND INDICATION 

* Clause 12: Party B will never take off the engagement ring provided by Party A, including during sleep. 

VIII. DURATION AND TERMINATION 

* Clause 13: The contract duration is indefinite until the date Party A deems his objectives to have been met. Party B has no right to unilateral termination. 

* Clause 14: Breach: Should Party B breach any of the above clauses, the erased debt will immediately become due with interest, and the transfer of the debt to Yoo Doshik will be reactivated. 

When Yeonjun finished reading, his fingers were clenching the edge of the paper enough to wrinkle it. Clause 3 (Moving) and Clause 6 (Scent Integrity), in particular, made his blood rush to his head. 

He raised his head, an unbelievable anger flashing in his eyes. 

“Are you... out of your mind?” Yeonjun said, resisting the tremor in his voice. “It says I’ll move into your family's house? And... scent integrity? What do you think I am, Soobin, a territory you’ve marked?” 

Soobin, sitting in the chair opposite him, affirmed with only a calm nod, his expression unchanged. 

“Security, Yeonjun. I know Doshik came to your house,” Soobin said. His voice was clear enough to instantly silence Yeonjun’s protest. “I cannot protect you in that house with that weak security. You must be under my supervision. Furthermore...” 

Soobin fixed his eyes on the scent patch on Yeonjun’s neck. 

“...if my fiancé carries the scent of anyone else, it undermines my authority. This is a business, Choi. And I don’t tolerate flaws in my business.” 

The problems weren't only these. He reread the paper, and every clause stung his skin like a needle. Yeonjun's fingers squeezed the barrel of the expensive fountain pen in his hand. His eyes fixed on Clause 9 and Clause 10. 24/7 Accessibility and Priority. 

Taking a deep breath, he looked up. In his eyes was the fire of a professional trying to protect his boundaries, not a cornered prey. 

“These clauses...” Yeonjun said, pointing at the paper with the tip of his pen. “I have a career, Soobin. I am the head of L'Eclat Korea. I can’t just turn off my phone and rush to your every command. Magazine print deadlines, editorial meetings, international contacts... These are my responsibilities. My job is my identity.” 

His voice grew harder. 

“I agreed to be your ‘accessory,’ but that doesn't mean I’ll completely trash my own life. I can’t be there whenever you want.” 

Soobin leaned slightly forward in his leather chair. His gaze behind his glasses suddenly sharpened, and the air in the office grew heavy. 

“You still don’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation,” Soobin said. His voice was low but menacing. “You don't have a business partner opposite you, Yeonjun. With Yoo Doshik waiting at your door, do you think magazine covers or seasonal trends are going to save you? I am the one setting the terms here.” 

This cold, authoritarian reminder broke the resistance in Yeonjun's shoulders. He was right. Fashion weeks meant nothing with Doshik’s breath on his neck. But still... it was hard to throw away the years of hard work he'd put in. 

Yeonjun lowered his gaze to his lap. Unconsciously, as he always did when stressed, he slightly pursed his lips. That old, stubborn but hurt child-like expression settled on his face. 

The moment Soobin saw that gesture, he paused. 

His eyes were fixed on Yeonjun's pursed lips. Seven years ago, in the high school corridors, that was exactly how he looked when he didn’t get something he wanted or when Soobin teased him. That momentary familiarity shook the icy wall inside Soobin very slightly, almost imperceptibly. 

Soobin sighed deeply. He leaned back, slightly relaxing his tense posture. 

“Don’t worry,” Soobin said, his voice not as harsh as before. It had adopted a more... reasonable tone. “I’m not telling you to quit your job.” 

Yeonjun looked up, surprised. 

“Mafia business...” Soobin lowered his voice as he spoke the word in his sterile office. “...usually happens after sundown. During the day, I’m at the company, and you can be at the magazine. PR activities and press events don’t happen every day either. We will talk and arrange our schedules. My assistant will synchronize your calendar with mine.” 

Yeonjun’s shoulders visibly relaxed. The pucker on his lips disappeared, replaced by a light, relieved expression. Perhaps he wasn't completely free, but at least he could protect his career—his own fortress. This small concession was a space that allowed him to breathe. 

“Alright,” Yeonjun said, his voice softer. “If it can be scheduled... then it’s fine.” 

Yeonjun opened the pen cap without giving himself any more time to think. The scratch of the ink as it spilled onto the paper broke the silence in the room. He signed. 

When he placed the pen on the desk, he felt as if he had left a piece of his soul there as well. There was no going back now. 

Soobin reached for the file. He checked the signature, then closed the file and put it aside. His expression returned to that unreadable, professional mask. 

“Good,” Soobin said, standing up. This was the sign that the meeting was over. 

“Go home and pack your things. Take only the essentials. Your clothes, personal items...” Soobin paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to Yeonjun’s neck. “...and your scent patches.” 

Yeonjun also stood up, adjusting his jacket. 

“My men will come to your house tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM,” Soobin commanded. His voice was definite. “They will take your belongings and move you to the mansion. Be ready by that time.” 

“Tomorrow?” Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “That fast?” 

Soobin continued to stand behind his desk like a fortress. He fixed his eyes on Yeonjun, spreading his authority throughout the room. 

“Doshik has no patience, Choi,” Soobin said, his voice icy. “And I don’t have time.” 

Yeonjun set his jaw against this ultimatum. He may have signed the contract, but that didn’t mean he would immediately submit to Soobin’s every word. His professional life was still his red line. 

“I cannot be home at nine,” Yeonjun objected, his voice firm. “I have an editor meeting at the magazine tomorrow and I need to be present. I will pack my things tonight. I’ll leave the key with security or under the doormat. Your men can come and get the things and move them while I'm at work.” 

Soobin shook his head slightly at Yeonjun's endless obstinacy and workaholism. A faint, tired expression, as if saying 'You're still the same,' crossed his face. He checked the watch on his left wrist. 

“Fine,” Soobin cut short. “Do as you wish. I have an important board meeting in fifteen minutes.” 

Soobin turned to the files on his desk, signaling that his interest had completely ceased. 

“Leave your contact information with Mr. Kang on your way out. He will coordinate everything.” 

Yeonjun gritted his teeth at this implicit "go" but didn't say anything. He simply gave a brief nod and exited the office with a sharp turn on his heel. 

The large-eyed alpha standing by the secretary’s desk, Mr. Kang, was waiting for Yeonjun. His posture was much more formal and distant than before. 

“Mr. Choi,” the secretary said in a professional tone, handing him his tablet. “I’d like to ask you to enter your contact information and current address here. Also...” 

Secretary Kang continued to speak as Yeonjun entered the information on the tablet. 

“...please save my number. You can reach me for any logistics. And we need to save Mr. Soobin’s private line on your phone, for emergencies.” 

“Alright,” Yeonjun said, taking out his phone. 

Secretary Kang took the phone and entered his own number. Then, as he entered Soobin’s number, Yeonjun saw the secretary’s fingers freeze on the screen. He slightly lowered his head and understood why. 

A seven-year-old entry had popped up at the bottom of the screen: 

"Soobin 🐰" 

Yeonjun’s breath hitched in his throat. A pain far heavier, far more devastating than the anger from moments ago, surged through his heart. 

Soobin had never changed his number. 

For seven years... during those lonely nights in America, when he lost his mother, when he learned of his father’s betrayal... If he had pressed that call button, this number would have rung. He had a chance to reach out. Soobin was on the other end of the line. Maybe he wouldn't have answered, maybe he would have shouted, but he was there. Yeonjun, thinking the bridges were completely burned, hadn't even dared to call that number. 

Did he wait for me? he wondered, with bitter pain. Or did he just not bother to change it because he didn’t care? 

He felt his eyes well up as he stared at the screen, but he quickly composed himself. He snatched the phone back and locked it. 

“The number... was already saved,” Yeonjun said, his voice cracking. 

Secretary Kang, seeming to understand the weight of this detail, simply nodded in respectful silence. He made no comment. The distance between them was now even wider. 

“Understood, sir. I will escort you to the elevator.” 

Mr. Kang walked Yeonjun to the elevator. The familiar driver from last night was gone, replaced by a cold guard protecting his boss’s boundaries. 

When Yeonjun exited the ChoiTech building, the complex traffic and noise of Seoul greeted him. The valet brought Yeonjun’s sports car to the front of the door. 

As he got into his car, he took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel. The tension from Soobin's office, Doshik's threat, and the strange melancholy created by the unchanged number... it all mixed together. 

He started the engine and drove onto the main street, heading towards the magazine office. He didn't turn on the radio. He just focused on the road, trying to silence the noise in his mind. He wanted to feel free, to feel the steering wheel in his own hand. 

However, because he didn't look in the rearview mirror, he didn't notice what was happening behind him. 

Two black vehicles glided out of the ChoiTech building's garage, blending into the traffic, and began following Yeonjun’s car at a determined distance. 

Soobin's protection was already a shadow. Wherever Yeonjun went, that invisible chain had already wrapped around his neck. 

​⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶָ  

The next evening, as Yeonjun stepped out of the magazine building's revolving door, he felt a sweet fatigue on his shoulders. All day, he had debated the autumn collection with the fashion editors, corrected printing errors, and managed to escape the suffocating reality by focusing entirely on his work. 

He started walking toward his sports car in the parking lot. As he turned the key, a sleek, black, armored sedan suddenly stopped in front of him with a screech of brakes. 

Yeonjun flinched and stepped back. The car's rear window slowly whirred down. 

Inside, under the dim light, Choi Soobin was sitting. He had a tablet in his lap, his face illuminated by the screen's blue light. Without lifting his head, he spoke in an icy voice. 

“Get in. We’re going to the mansion.” 

Yeonjun frowned. This authoritarian tone immediately pierced the professional armor he had maintained all day. 

“I have my own car,” Yeonjun said, holding up his key. His voice was tense. “I can follow you. I can't leave my car here.” 

Soobin scrolled his finger across the tablet screen. He seemed not to have heard Yeonjun's reasonable suggestion. He slowly turned his head toward the window, his expressionless brown eyes finding Yeonjun. 

“Get in the car, Yeonjun,” he said. His voice hadn't been raised, but the certainty in his tone was an unyielding wall. “My men will handle your car.” 

Yeonjun gritted his teeth. Making a scene in the middle of the parking lot, especially at the time employees were leaving, was the last thing he wanted. He took an angry, deep breath and muttered, “Fine.” 

He opened the door and sat in the back seat, as far from Soobin as possible, practically glued to the door. As soon as the door closed, the car moved. 

Inside, it was completely silent, as if insulated from the outside world. Only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the tock, tock of the tablet pen touching the screen could be heard. 

As the car flowed through Seoul traffic, Secretary Kang, sitting in the front seat, glanced briefly in the rearview mirror and began to speak. 

“Sir,” Kang said in a professional tone. “Have you approved the drafts prepared for tomorrow morning’s board meeting?” 

Soobin murmured, “Mm-hmm,” without looking up from the tablet. 

“I’ve sent the presentation by email,” Mr. Kang continued. “I reviewed it generally, but it would be good for you to go over it as well. There are a few points I’m concerned about in the risk analysis, especially regarding the Asian market expansion. The finance department might have been a bit too optimistic.” 

Soobin zoomed in on the graph on his tablet and examined it carefully. There wasn't the slightest change in his facial muscles. No worry, no approval, no satisfaction. 

“I saw it,” Soobin said, his voice mechanical. “Have them recalculate the risk analysis. I don't want optimism; I want data. Note the points you're stuck on, I’ll look at them tonight.” 

“Understood, sir. I’ve already emailed you those specific points I was concerned about.” 

Soobin only gave an approving, ambiguous murmur and turned to the next page. 

Yeonjun pretended to watch the outside world through the window, but all his attention was on this iceberg beside him. 

How can he be so... empty? Yeonjun wondered. 

From the very first moment they met, from that dreadful night at the casino, he hadn't seen a single genuine flicker of emotion on Soobin's face. No anger, no hatred, no joy. Even when talking to his secretary, it was like talking to an operating system, not a human being. 

Before... In high school, Soobin’s eyes reacted to everything. They would sparkle when Yeonjun laughed, darken when he was sad, widen when he was excited. Now, those eyes had turned into black holes that merely read data, strategized, and gave commands. 

Yeonjun glanced at Soobin again through his reflection in the glass. 

He really sold his soul to that company and the underground, he thought, with a bitter ache in his stomach. The thing sitting next to me is not a person. Just a very efficient, expensive machine. 

The black sedan left the noise and chaos of the city behind and glided towards the outskirts of a wooded area. The journey was silent and tense, until the car slowed down in front of a massive structure. 

Yeonjun held his breath as he looked out the window. 

On both sides, a long, suffocating but fascinating road stretched out, surrounded by ancient trees so tall they blocked the sky. Ground lighting placed along the tree trunks made the road look like a mystical tunnel. The car's tires made a deep sound on the perfectly laid stone road as it proceeded. 

And then... the tree-lined road ended, and the forest gave way to a breathtaking clearing. 

In front of them stood a colossal, black iron gate, the pinnacle of wrought-iron craftsmanship. The crests on the gate gleamed like gold in the yellow light of the lamps. The gate slowly swung open to both sides with a heavy metallic groan, as if granting passage to another world. 

When the car drove in, Yeonjun found himself inside a fairy tale—or a gothic novel. 

Yeonjun's lips involuntarily parted. 

The structure standing before him was not a house. It was not even a mansion. It was a modern palace, zapped from the Victorian era into the present day. 

The car slowly circled the enormous, layered ornamental fountain positioned in the center of the entrance. The waters rising from the middle of the fountain flowed from an angel statue, sparkling like crystal with the surrounding landscape lights. The garden was adorned with labyrinthine, meticulously trimmed hedges and sculptures, as if drawn with a ruler. 

But the most shocking part was the building itself. 

The two-story, large detached house Yeonjun lived in with his family... seemed tiny next to this structure. Even the large house where Soobin’s family lived in their childhood was nothing next to this colossal mass. 

The structure was exactly three stories tall. 

The facade, rising with a harmony of gray stone and white marble, was adorned with columns, carved balconies, and high arched windows. The steep roof and tower-like protrusions on the top floor gave the house a gothic and unattainable atmosphere. The warm, yellow light emanating from each window was only a fragment of the luxury inside. This house screamed not just wealth, but absolute power. 

When the driver opened the door, Yeonjun got out of the car but couldn't move. His feet were cemented to the gravel path. As he raised his head to look at the gothic windows of the third floor on the building's peak, he felt as small as an ant in the shadow of this massive structure. This wasn't just a building; it was Choi Soobin’s defiance to the world. 

He was startled by the sound of the car door closing, but he couldn't take his eyes off the structure. Just then, he heard the sound of firm footsteps. 

Soobin had gotten out of the car and headed toward the entrance without waiting a second for Yeonjun's mesmerized state. He climbed the wide, matte marble stairs leading up to the mansion entrance with self-assured, firm steps. 

He stopped in the middle of the stairs. He didn't turn around, only slightly tilted his head over his shoulder. With his broad shoulders and height, he stood in front of that massive door behind him, like the sole owner of that palace. 

“Do you plan to stand there...” Soobin said, his voice echoing in the night air. “...and wait forever?” 

Yeonjun snapped out of his trance at this cold warning. No matter how captivating the view was, the beast inside had no patience for waiting. 

He swallowed, straightened his chin, and took his first step to climb those marble steps. He was entering his golden cage. 

As Yeonjun took his steps, the tock of his heeled boots on the matte marble floor echoed in the mansion's high ceilings. 

The woman who opened the door, in her late forties, uniformed but motherly, stepped aside, saying, “Welcome, Mr. Choi.” While Soobin entered with a soulless nod and hung his coat on the stand, Yeonjun froze where he stood. 

His eyes were lost in the splendor of this modern palace. 

The entrance hall was like a work of art, dominated by white and gold leaf details, illuminated by a massive crystal chandelier. Directly opposite, a wide marble staircase with carved railings curved upwards like the neck of a swan. 

To the left, there was a stylish door leading to the kitchen, but what truly caught Yeonjun's attention was the living room just past it. There was no door to the living room; instead, a breathtaking lounge, designed as a sunken area reached by three steps down, stretched out. Modern white seating groups, a massive fireplace, priceless paintings adorning the walls, and floor-to-ceiling glass doors opening to the backyard... 

This is not a home, Yeonjun thought. This is a museum. Cold, flawless, and devoid of lived experience. 

To the right of the stairs, there were three rooms with closed doors. Probably the rooms of the staff or guests. 

Soobin, about to turn to Yeonjun after hanging up his coat, saw a movement at the top of the stairs. 

Yeonjun lifted his head. 

Leaning against the stair railing was a delicate-figured omega with long brown hair falling over his face. 

Choi Beomgyu. 

Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat. Soobin’s little brother. The cheerful child with scraped knees who used to run after Yeonjun and Soobin to join their games in their childhood... Now he stood opposite him with an icy glare. 

“Beomgyu...” the word involuntarily slipped from Yeonjun's lips, like a whisper. 

There was neither longing nor surprise on Beomgyu’s face. Only pure, sharp resentment. He looked into Yeonjun’s eyes for a second, as if weighing him and finding him wanting. Then, without saying a word, he turned his back, entered his room on the stair landing, and slammed the door shut. 

Bang. 

The sound cracked like a slap in the silence of the large house. 

Yeonjun closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A wave of guilt, making him feel sick, surged within him. He hadn't just left Soobin behind. At 17, he had also abandoned that small boy who had just lost his father and needed his older brother and "Yeonjun Hyung." That sound of the door was the sound of Beomgyu’s anger toward him. 

For a moment, Yeonjun forgot everything and wanted to run up those stairs, pound on that door, and apologize. He took a step. 

But then, the sound of another door and cheerful, quick footsteps were heard from upstairs. 

Yeonjun stopped. This wasn't Beomgyu. The steps were much lighter. 

A silhouette like the wind glided down the stairs. 

She was a tall, slender-waisted, and incredibly beautiful woman with light brown hair falling over her shoulders. There was a bright and gentle smile on her face, like the sun, completely unsuited for this gloomy house. As she approached, the sweet and fresh scent of cinnamon filled Yeonjun's nose. An omega. 

The woman skipped the last step of the stairs and, without hesitation, threw herself into Soobin’s arms, who was waiting in the entrance. 

“Oppa!” she chirped, her voice full of affection. 

Yeonjun froze where he stood. His eyes were wide open. 

The cold, soulless, robotic alpha... suddenly vanished. 

Soobin opened his arms without thinking. He slipped one hand under the woman’s legs and lifted her into the air, wrapping the other tightly around her back. As the woman wrapped her legs around Soobin’s waist, the intense, loving cinnamon pheromones she released literally washed the alpha with her scent. 

And Soobin... smiled. 

That genuine, warm smile Yeonjun hadn't seen for days, even years... melted all the ice on Soobin’s face. His eyes were shining. 

The woman pulled back and cupped Soobin’s face, then kissed his lips without warning. 

Yeonjun forgot to breathe. That hot, acidic pain, whose name he couldn't name, seeping from his heart, burned through all his veins. He stared in shock at the passionate scene unfolding before him. Soobin was kissing the woman, hugging her, and looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. The icy king from the casino was now a man in love. 

When their lips parted, Soobin’s smile grew even wider. The woman giggled, resting her head on Soobin’s shoulder. 

Just then, the woman noticed Yeonjun. 

A sweet embarrassment appeared on her face, and her cheeks flushed slightly. She quickly got off Soobin’s lap but didn't leave his side. 

“Oh... hello,” the woman said, her voice still cheerful. “I didn’t realize you were here. Excuse me.” 

Yeonjun could only nod, unable to say anything. His throat was dry. 

The woman smiled, raised her head, and looked at Soobin with admiration. Soobin lightly, affectionately, touched the tip of her nose with his index finger. 

“Hyelin,” Soobin said, his voice tender. Then he turned his head and looked at Yeonjun, the smile on his face fading slightly. “This is Choi Yeonjun.” 

Yeonjun was about to open his mouth to say something, but the woman spoke before him. She extended her hand, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. 

“Pleased to meet you, Yeonjun-ssi,” she said. “I’m Lee Hyelin. Soobin’s fiancée.” 

The world slipped out from under Yeonjun's feet. 

His fiancée? 

Within the "fake engagement" game Soobin had offered him, it turned out there was a real fiancée. And this woman was the only one who could melt Soobin's ice. 

As Yeonjun looked at the extended hand, he felt more uninvited, alien, and... deceived than ever before. 

Chapter Text

​"Pleased to meet you, Yeonjun-ssi," the woman said, with a sincere smile on her face. "I am Lee Hyelin. Soobin's fiancée."

​As Yeonjun looked at the extended hand, he felt the world slip out from under his feet. His fiancée? In the shadow of the cold, strategic "fake engagement" plan Soobin had offered him, there was, in fact, a real, flesh-and-blood fiancée. And this woman seemed like the only person who could melt the ice king.

​In his shock, Yeonjun could only slightly bow his head.

​At that moment, Soobin instantly wiped that warm expression from his face, as if he wasn't the man beaming with smiles just seconds ago. When his gaze turned to Yeonjun, he had reverted to that familiar, soulless robot.

​"Ms. Seo," Soobin said, his voice icy and commanding. "Escort our guest to his room and explain the house rules to him."

​Soobin didn't even wait for Yeonjun's reply. He gently grasped Hyelin's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and slightly pulled the woman toward himself, guiding her into the salon, that stylish area reached by three steps down.

​Yeonjun stood there, watching them leave. He watched them walk away holding hands, Hyelin leaning her head on Soobin's shoulder, and Soobin allowing it. A thin, sharp ache appeared in his heart.

​He used to... Yeonjun thought, his eyes glazing over. He used to look at me like that too. With those shining eyes, with that admiration... He would show how much he loved his Hyung with every glance. Now, when he looks at me, I see only emptiness.

​This feeling was more than romantic jealousy; it was the bitter sense of abandonment felt by someone who sees they've been replaced. He had lost his best friend. He had lost the privilege of being the "most loved."

​"Sir?"

​Ms. Seo's gentle voice pulled Yeonjun out of his trance. The woman, in her forties, was waiting for him with a warm, professional smile on her face.

​"This way, please follow me."

​Yeonjun sighed, casting one last look at the silhouette of the couple in the salon, and followed Ms. Seo toward those wide, marble stairs. With every step, the grandeur of the house grew, but so did the weight on Yeonjun.

​When they reached the second floor, the landing, a wide hall greeted them. This was a spacious transition area where the stairs coming from below ended and the other stairs continuing upward began.

​Ms. Seo stopped and gently explained, pointing to the doors one by one.

​"This is the family's living floor, Mr. Choi," she said. She pointed to the door immediately on the left. "This is Beomgyu's room."

​Then, she pointed to the door diagonally across from Beomgyu's room, on the right side.

​"This is your room, sir."

​Next, she pointed to the door right next to Yeonjun's room, made of heavier, darker wood.

​"This is Mr. Soobin's home office. He usually works there at night."

​And finally, she pointed to the door on the right, right next to the stairs going up.

​"And this is Ms. Hyelin's room."

​Yeonjun listened, nodding. The layout was quite clear. However, his eyes involuntarily drifted to the continuing stairs curling up to the third floor. A dim atmosphere hung at the top of the stairs, as if there were an invisible barrier.

​When Ms. Seo noticed Yeonjun's gaze, her smile vanished. Her face grew serious, her tone hardening not so much as a warning, but as if stating an absolute law.

​"Those stairs, sir..." Ms. Seo said, looking into Yeonjun's eyes. "Lead to the forbidden floor. That entire floor belongs to Mr. Soobin."

​Yeonjun raised his eyebrows. "Forbidden?"

​"Absolutely," the woman confirmed. "It is Mr. Choi's strictest order. No one in the house, under any circumstances, even in an emergency, can go up to that floor. Stepping there is strictly prohibited. Please do not forget this."

​Yeonjun took one last look at the steps stretching into the darkness. The forbidden floor. He had built an isolated fortress for himself even in his own home. This mystery was further proof of how much Soobin had changed and how many secrets he was keeping.

​"I understand," Yeonjun said calmly.

​Ms. Seo returned to her gentle demeanor and opened the door to Yeonjun's room.

​When Yeonjun entered, he relaxed slightly with the feeling of spaciousness. The room was much wider and brighter than he had expected. The decoration, dominated by white and cream tones, had a simple elegance that was easy on the eyes.

​Right in the middle of the room stood a wide, very comfortable-looking double bed covered with cream-colored linens. Directly across from the bed was a door he guessed led to the bathroom. Right next to the door rose a massive wardrobe with white lacquered doors that looked built-in.

​On the left wall next to the bed, against the wall with the large floor-to-ceiling window, a stylish desk leaned. Next to the room door stood a modern dresser with large drawers, its polish still shining, clearly newly assembled.

​And the only thing breaking the simplicity of the room: cardboard boxes and Yeonjun's suitcases piled in the middle of the room.

​Yeonjun felt a bitter satisfaction seeing his belongings brought here. The wardrobe was huge, yes, but he doubted he could fit the mountain of clothes he owned due to his passion for fashion. Maybe I should only hang my favorites, he thought.

​Ms. Seo silently walked to the window and opened the panes. The curtains fluttered gently as the cool, clean evening air filled the room. The woman turned to Yeonjun with a smiling face.

​"We thought you might be uncomfortable with your belongings being touched, sir," she said apologetically. "That's why we didn't open the boxes, just placed them in the room. But if you need help settling in, please don't hesitate to ask. I'll help immediately."

​Yeonjun smiled slightly at the woman's thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Ms. Seo. That was considerate. I prefer to arrange my things myself. I don't think I'll need help."

​The idea of strangers handling his private life, his clothes, items permeated with his scent, didn't sit well with him either. He wanted to create his own little space in this room, among these boxes.

​Ms. Seo nodded understandingly and headed for the door.

​"Very well, sir. Dinner is served at 7:00 PM sharp. Mr. Soobin is particular about punctuality." she said, and left the room with a slight bow.

​When the door closed, Yeonjun was left in the midst of a deep silence.

​He looked at the cardboard boxes standing in the middle of the room. These boxes were the packaged version of his old life. Now he had to open them and place them in this foreign palace full of prohibitions, where his old friend had turned into a "soulless" king.

​Yeonjun took a deep breath to suppress the unnamed ache in his chest and walked toward the first box.

​⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶ

​When the clock struck 7:00 PM, the heavy air in the dining room was broken by the gentle sounds of porcelain touching.

​Everyone was at the table except Yeonjun.

​Soobin was settled at the head of the table with his unquestionable authority. Opposite him sat the eldest of the house, his mother, Ms. Choi. On the long sides of the table, Hyelin and Beomgyu were seated across from each other; Hyelin had chosen to sit close to Soobin.

​As Ms. Seo silently placed the serving dishes on the table, Soobin watched the patterns on his plate with his fork. Without lifting his gaze, he asked in a cold voice.

​"I assume you forgot to mention the dinner time to our guest, Ms. Seo?"

​Ms. Seo smiled gently as she straightened the napkin in her hand. "I told him, sir, but he might have forgotten the time in the rush of settling in. I'll let him know immediately."

​At that moment, Hyelin gracefully rose from her chair. "Don't bother, I'll tell him." she said cheerfully. Without waiting for Soobin's approval, she headed for the stairs with light steps.

​Yeonjun had lost the concept of time in his room.

​He was swaying slightly to the rhythm coming from his headphones as he pushed the last cardboard box he had emptied into the corner. He frowned when the song cut off abruptly and turned to the nightstand to get his phone.

​At that moment, he came face to face with Hyelin, who was holding Yeonjun's phone in her hand.

​Yeonjun flinched and took a step back. Hyelin smiled sheepishly as she slowly put the phone down.

​"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she said in a whisper. "I knocked, but when there was no sound, I got worried and came in."

​Yeonjun could only nod at the girl. He felt so foreign and tense in this house, among these people, that words were knotted in his throat. Yet the young omega across from him was smiling like the sun, showing her white teeth, defying the grayness of the environment.

​Hyelin cast a brief glance at the phone on the nightstand and turned to Yeonjun, eyes sparkling. "I love the band you were listening to too! Especially the lyrics of this song are great, aren't they?"

​The girl hummed a few words from the chorus of the song Yeonjun had just been listening to. Her voice was soft and clear. Yeonjun felt the tension inside him dissolve a bit. Hyelin's natural cuteness was warming the ice in his heart. He smiled back as best he could, albeit forcedly.

​"It's dinner time," Hyelin said, pointing to the door. "Everyone is downstairs."

​Yeonjun's eyes widened. He slapped his forehead. "God, I completely forgot to check the time."

​As he scolded himself for breaking a rule on the very first day, Hyelin giggled. "It's okay, it's normal to miss it since it's the first day. Let's go."

​As they went downstairs together, Yeonjun's steps slowed as they approached the dining room.

​Before reaching the table, he saw the back of the woman with slightly graying hair sitting in the chair. Ms. Choi.

​Yeonjun's heart ached. As he walked to take the seat set for him next to Hyelin at the table, he came face to face with Ms. Choi.

​Seven years... The lines on the woman's face had deepened a little, but her motherly expression was still the same. Yeonjun returned to the old days for a moment. In the past, he would have hugged her from behind, joked, "Eomma-nim, you look like you're in your twenties again today" and made her laugh.

​But now... his body was frozen.

​He wanted to hug the woman he saw as a second mother, lay on her lap and tell her his troubles as he used to, cry while she stroked his hair. His nose stung. But the woman's gaze was so empty that Yeonjun felt the invisible wall in between.

​He just bowed respectfully and sat silently in his chair.

​No one had started eating. Silence was like a heavy blanket over the table. Beomgyu sitting opposite and Ms. Choi at the head of the table acted as if there was no one in that chair.

​When Ms. Choi reached for her soup spoon and took the first sip, the others moved too. Soobin spoke while stirring his soup, without taking his eyes off his plate.

​"This house has certain rules, Yeonjun. And everyone is responsible for these rules."

​Yeonjun. Not Yeonjun Hyung.

​It wasn't the lack of the honorific that hurt. It was that the warmth, that "brotherly" bond between them had been severed and thrown away. Soobin was putting a formal distance between them with his words.

​Yeonjun was thankful for the scent patch on his neck; otherwise, the scent of stress and sadness he emitted would have covered the whole room.

​Hyelin, sitting next to him, reached out and put her hand on Soobin's fist resting on the table. Tilting her head slightly, she intervened with that sweet voice.

​"It's Yeonjun-ssi's first day here, honey. And he seemed unaware of the time while settling in. I think we can show some understanding, hm?"

​The scent of fresh cinnamon spread lightly over the tense table. Hyelin's softening attitude resonated at the table, but Beomgyu gave the expected reaction.

​The young omega twisted his mouth, silently mimicking what Hyelin said, and threw a look full of disgust and anger at the girl.

​Soobin took Hyelin's hand into his own large hand. While stroking the back of the girl's hand slowly and possessively with his thumb, he shot a sharp, warning look at Beomgyu.

​Beomgyu shrugged as if to say "What?" and indifferently returned to his soup.

​Yeonjun was confused as he looked at his soup. Beomgyu was the most cheerful, adaptable kid he knew. To display such open hostility towards someone as kind as Hyelin... There were too many dynamics in this house that Yeonjun didn't know.

​The rest of the dinner passed in a suffocating silence where only the sounds of cutlery were heard.

​Yeonjun had taken a few spoonfuls of his soup, but his stomach had turned rock hard. Not a single bite more would go down his throat. After taking a piece of his salad and forcibly swallowing the bite that grew in his mouth, he realized he couldn't take it anymore.

​He slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. He bowed gently.

​"Excuse me," he said, his voice hoarse. "I'm going up to my room. I'm tired."

​He was asking Ms. Choi for permission, his eyes were on her. But the woman continued to attend to the meat on her plate. She didn't even raise her head. This ignoring doubled the weight sitting on Yeonjun's chest.

​Just as he was about to take the silence as approval and turn around, Hyelin spoke, pouting her lips.

​"Oh, but you barely ate anything, Yeonjun-ssi."

​Yeonjun paused.

​Hyelin tilted her head slightly to the side and examined Yeonjun's face carefully. Her eyes lingered on Yeonjun's cheeks.

​"Are you..." Hyelin said, with completely innocent curiosity. "...on a diet?"

​Yeonjun froze where he stood.

​The young omega's eyes were wandering over his cheeks, his chin. Those looks opened a dark door in Yeonjun's mind. The cruel criticisms he heard while modeling years ago, the nights he went hungry, the moments he looked at himself in the mirror and said "you're too fat"... They all came back at once.

​Diet? My cheeks... do they look too fat again? Did I gain weight? Is that why she thinks I'm not eating?

​Hyelin's intention might have been just to express concern, but for Yeonjun, it was a needle stabbing his weakest point. He felt tiny, vulnerable, and flawed in that luxurious dining room.

​"I'm just..." Yeonjun said, his voice trembling. "Not hungry."

​Without waiting for an answer, he practically ran out of the hall. He took the stairs two at a time and threw himself into his room. The moment he closed the door, he let out the breath in his lungs.

​He quickly entered the bathroom. He turned on the lights and stood in front of the large mirror.

​His physique was his armor. When he was modeling, he paid attention to his form to a sickly degree. But in recent days... His father's death, debt stress, Soobin... He had no eating routine left. Sometimes he didn't eat at all, sometimes he stuffed himself out of stress.

​His hands went to his face, trembling. He grabbed his cheeks with his fingertips, squeezed them. He tugged at his skin.

​His eyes filled with tears as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. What he saw was not a fit and beautiful omega. His mind was playing tricks on him.

​You've gained weight, whispered that toxic voice inside him. Look, your face is swollen. Other omegas are so graceful and thin... And you... You are flawed.

​As Yeonjun continued to squeeze his cheeks, a tear rolled down his eye. This house was full not only of the ghosts of the past, but also of Yeonjun's own demons. And on the very first night, those demons had awakened.

​⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶָ

​The sun hadn't risen yet.

​The mansion's kitchen was cloaked in the gray tones of the twilight outside. Yeonjun was leaning his hip against the marble counter, taking support from the hot mug in his hands. All night, he had tossed and turned in bed, Hyelin's question "are you on a diet?" repeating in his mind like an echo. As a result, he had greeted the day with only two hours of restless sleep.

​The coffee in his mug was pitch black. No sugar, no milk. Just bitter, black coffee. It was the only way to fully wake up.

​The silence of the kitchen was broken by the sound of firm footsteps coming from the corridor.

​When Yeonjun raised his head, Soobin appeared at the door.

​It wasn't even five in the morning, but Soobin looked flawless, as if it were midday. He was wearing a charcoal gray, razor-sharp ironed suit. His hair was neatly combed, there was no trace of sleepiness or fatigue on his face.

​Soobin ignored Yeonjun. Without giving the slightest sign that he noticed his presence, he headed straight for the huge refrigerator. He opened the door, took out a ready-made protein drink bottle from inside, closed the door, and leaned his back against the island counter.

​As he twisted the cap open, Yeonjun watched his back. Did this man not sleep? Was he a robot?

​Soobin brought the bottle to his lips, took a big gulp, then turned to leave.

​"We need to talk," Yeonjun said. His voice came out hoarse and weak in the cold of the morning.

​Soobin stopped. He turned slowly on his heels. He looked at Yeonjun with expressionless eyes from the other side of the kitchen island lying between them.

​"I'm listening," he said. His voice was so flat that Yeonjun wanted to give up speaking for a moment.

​Yeonjun lowered his gaze to the black coffee in his hand. His fingers were squeezing the handle of the mug.

​"Why..." he said and swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me you had a fiancée?"

​The sentence hung in the air. He expected an explanation, an apology, or at least some surprise from Soobin. But all he got was silence.

​When he raised his head and locked eyes with the alpha, there wasn't a crumb of regret on Soobin's face.

​"Should I have?" Soobin said.

​The question was asked out of uselessness, not curiosity. Yeonjun shivered with this emotional coldness superimposed on the cool of the morning.

​"Of course you should have!" Yeonjun said, his voice rising slightly. "You brought me here, to the house where your fiancée lives. Looking at the girl's face, I felt... I felt-" Yeonjun didn't know how he felt, couldn't express it. Guilty? Deceived?

​Soobin put the bottle in his hand on the counter. That heavy sound silenced Yeonjun.

​"Drop the sentimentality, Yeonjun," Soobin said, in an icy voice. "I told you. This is a business deal. Hyelin is my private life. And you..."

​Soobin scanned Yeonjun from head to toe, as if despising that tired and exhausted state.

​"...you are my business life."

​Yeonjun felt like he had been punched in the stomach at this distinction. The feeling of worthlessness climbed up to his throat.

​"If that's so..." Yeonjun said, resisting the tears filling his eyes. "If you already have a fiancée who loves you, who is beautiful and elegant enough for society to adore... Why did you get me involved in this? Why do you need me when she exists? She is a much better option for PR than me. Innocent, clean, spotless..."

​Soobin leaned slightly forward over the island. His eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint.

​"That's exactly the problem," Soobin said. "She is too clean."

​Yeonjun frowned. "What?"

​"You are not here just for magazine covers or PR, Choi Yeonjun," Soobin said, emphasizing every word. "You are here because you also have a name within the mafia."

​Yeonjun was confused. "I have nothing to do with the mafia. I ran away from that world."

​Soobin let out a short, mocking breath. "You think you ran away. But your father's surname and your title of 'runaway prince' in that world are still on people's tongues. The underworld knows you. You being by my side sends a much bigger message to my rivals than Hyelin ever could: A union of power."

​Soobin straightened up and fixed his shirt cuffs.

​"I can't feed Hyelin as an appetizer to that table of wolves. She is too fragile for that world."

​Soobin's eyes found Yeonjun again and delivered the final blow.

​"But you... You come from within that mud. You are used to it."

​Yeonjun froze. Yeonjun had been chosen just because he was more durable, more "soiled".

​Soobin picked up his bottle again without looking at that devastated expression on Yeonjun's face.

​"Finish your coffee and get ready," he said, as if giving an order. "We're going to the company. And Yeonjun..."

​He stopped before going out the door but didn't turn around.

​"...get along well with Hyelin. If you upset her, the course of our agreement changes."

​When Soobin left the kitchen, Yeonjun was left alone with the cold bitter coffee in his hand. His shoulders slumped. He had never felt so alone, used, and stained.

​⋆ ˚｡⋆ ʚ౨ৎ ɞ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ִֶָ

​As the last lights of the day withdrew from over the city, Soobin shed the sterile world of ChoiTech and stepped into his true kingdom, the underground floor of Luxe Mirage.

​When the elevator doors opened, the dense cigarette smoke and tense pheromone scent inside hit his face. The security chief and croupiers who saw him instantly straightened their posture and bowed respectfully. Soobin didn't look at anyone. His eyes were locked on that table at the most strategic point of the hall.

​His steps made a heavy and rhythmic sound on the floor, emitting not just a physical presence but a tangible wave of power around him. His presence was like a threat echoing within the casino walls.

​He stopped when he reached the table.

​Yoo Doshik was clutching the whiskey glass in his hand tightly, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. The smell radiating from the old alpha was stale alcohol, cheap tobacco, and a sharp, sour rage.

​Soobin sat down heavily in the empty chair opposite Doshik, buttoning his jacket. A silent power struggle began between them, piercing even the green baize cloth of the table.

​Soobin turned his head slightly to the side and looked at the other two players at the table.

​"Gentlemen," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Could you excuse us? A private matter."

​The men immediately recognized the tone in Soobin's voice that didn't accept "no". Without even collecting their chips, they hastily got up from the table and moved away.

​When they were alone, Doshik threw the cards in his hand onto the table, hard.

​Soobin heard that wheezing breath coming out of the old man's nostrils and the corner of his lips curled slightly.

​"You'll never get tired of playing games on my turf, will you Doshik?" Soobin said, without reaching for the cards. "Even knowing you'll lose."

​Doshik gave a nasty laugh, showing his yellowed teeth. "I always win, Soobin." He showed his remaining cards from the previous hand as if they were a title deed. "My hand is always strong."

​The cards in his hand were indeed good. But the issue wasn't the cards. The issue was the prize that wasn't on the table.

​Soobin shook his head, sighed deeply. "Then..." he said, signaling to the croupier. "...let's play a hand together. The last hand."

​As the croupier shuffled the deck and dealt the cards, Doshik leaned over the table. His eyes were looking for a sign of fear on Soobin's face.

​"You stole him from me," Doshik growled.

​Soobin lifted the cards dealt to him. His face was expressionless. He answered in a calm voice without taking his eyes off the cards.

​"He was never yours."

​"He was going to be!" Doshik hissed, his voice as poisonous as a snake's. "If you had let me pay that stupid debt, He was going to be mine. As he should be. I was going to train him."

​Soobin's fingers squeezed the edge of the cards slightly but the mask on his face didn't move. He slid his own card onto the table.

​"How many times have I told you not to touch what is mine, old man," Soobin said. His voice was as clear as the cracking of an iceberg. "You have all these years of experience but you still play like a rookie."

​These double-meaning words fell like embers into the middle of the table. Doshik's face turned purple with anger.

​"You are still green, Soobin," Doshik said, his voice trembling. "It's quite a pity your father left you alone at such an early age and you took over this business. You don't know the rules. The prey belongs to the one who sees it first."

​Soobin narrowed his eyes when he heard his father's name. With that flawless discipline he learned in the last seven years, he froze the lava inside him.

​He slowly revealed his cards on the table. Blackjack.

​"Too late," Soobin said, looking into Doshik's eyes. "I won."

​Doshik looked at the cards on the table. Then shaking his head, he started laughing in an annoying, hysterical way. He threw the cards in his hand onto the table.

​"A hyung advice to you," Doshik said, his voice lowering. "Don't swim in rough seas where you'll drown. Oh, and also... don't touch what is mine."

​Soobin leaned back comfortably in his chair. He responded with a half-hearted, contemptuous smile.

​"He was never yours Doshik. And he never will be. That sea is too deep for you to swim in."

​This word became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

​Doshik knocked over his chair roaring like an animal and leaped to his feet. "HE IS MINE!"

​He reached for his waist and within seconds pulled a silver gun with a shining barrel and pointed it right at Soobin's forehead.

​"I will pay that stupid gambling debt! And you will bring him to me, wherever he is!" Doshik shouted. His spittle was spraying onto the table. "Bring me my omega!"

​Female customers in the hall started screaming and running away upon seeing the gun. Chairs were overturned, glasses were broken. A wave of panic engulfed the entire hall.

​But in the center where Soobin was, time seemed to have stopped.

​The bodyguards emerging from the shadows behind Soobin had drawn their guns in less than a second and locked their barrels on Doshik's head, chest, and legs. At least ten guns were pointed at the old man.

​Soobin didn't even blink while looking at the barrel.

​"Ah..." Soobin said, as if talking about the weather. "You know very well where he is. But you want me to bring him. Why?"

​Soobin slowly took his hands off the table and stood up. He took a step towards the gun in Doshik's trembling hand.

​"Because you are afraid, old man. You are afraid to reach out to someone under my protection, to my fortress." Soobin's voice was harder than the metallic coldness of the gun. "And you should be."

​"Either you give Yeonjun to me or I will bury you in this casino!" Doshik shouted, but the trembling in his voice was giving him away.

​Soobin put his hands in the pockets of his fabric trousers. He looked down at Doshik from above, like a pitying god.

​"You know Doshik? I was a quite sharing child when I was little. But sinking into filth at an early age changes who a person is."

​Soobin tilted his head slightly to the side.

​"What is mine is mine. He has no debt to you anymore."

​"No!" Doshik lunged. "I don't accept your money! The deal was mine!"

​Soobin shrugged. "You can discuss that with the notary. The debt is officially closed, the money is in your account and the file is closed. Legally and according to 'our' laws, you have no right left over him."

​Soobin turned his back and started walking towards the exit. His back was completely open to Doshik's barrel. This was the heaviest way of saying 'I don't take you seriously enough to know you won't dare shoot me'.

​"Don't dare approach him again," Soobin said, as he continued walking. His voice echoed in the silence of the entire hall. "Or the consequences will be too heavy for that dirty old body of yours."

​He stopped when he reached the exit door. He turned his head slightly, cast one last look over his shoulder at the man still holding the gun with a trembling hand.

​"Oh, by the way..." Soobin said, his voice like a deadly whisper.

​"Don't take my omega's name into that disgusting mouth of yours again."

​When Soobin went out the door, he left behind a defeated, humiliated Doshik who was about to go mad with rage.