ODKO | Chapter 16

Before he knew it, a smile crept onto his face. Jack quickly composed himself at Cayenne’s fierce curses, realizing he had let his guard down. Only then did Cayenne, who had calmed down a bit, squint his eyes and approach the desk, but suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Shit, you, you… how did you know it was my first time?”

Cayenne spun around and grabbed Jack by the collar. Jack, caught off guard, widened his eyes in surprise.

Cayenne’s face was flushed red with embarrassment. His fair skin made the redness even more pronounced, turning his cheeks, ears, and neck a deep crimson.

Jack blinked in disbelief. How could he not know? Cayenne’s body, face, and demeanor screamed inexperience, making it surprising that Cayenne thought he wouldn’t notice.

“If you’re asking how I knew…”

Would he get angry if Jack just said he knew? Jack, equally bewildered, could only stare at Cayenne.

It had been a while. Since their encounter in the warehouse, it was the first time they were this close, face to face.

Even without any pheromones, the dry scent made Jack’s mind hazy. Cayenne’s flushed and panting face reminded him of that day, leaving him dazed. Moreover, Cayenne’s embarrassed reaction from an unexpected point was just too…

Too cute…

Smooch.

A short, sticky sound echoed as their lips briefly touched—then parted.

Jack, caught in the moment, had kissed Cayenne without even realising it.

The instant the realisation hit, he gasped, letting out an awkward, strangled sound.

Cayenne, still gripping Jack by the collar, stared at him with wide, flushed cheeks, as if his mind had completely blanked out.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then, like a delayed reaction, the sensation of the kiss seemed to finally register.

The redness that had spread across Cayenne’s face, ears, and neck drained away all at once—like a receding tide.

“…You bastard…”

Cayenne’s voice, now low and filled with menace, seeped out like a slow-acting poison.

The murderous intent in his tone was so tangible, it almost felt like a visible blue aura creeping through the air.

Jack, paling with fear, trembled.

“Hey, what’s up? Why does your face look like that?”

“It’s nothing. I just fell down the stairs.”

“Again?”

Rick Wyatt’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Jack Carlson—who had recently been promoted to the unprecedented position of Knight Commander’s secretary—was now sporting a colorful bruise on his face.

Jack, momentarily confused by his own excuse, blinked.

When did I fall again?

And then, it hit him—the day he had first met Cayenne.

That clumsy fall.

That had been the excuse he had used back then.

“You seem to fall a lot on the days the Commander shows up.”

Rick Wyatt, blissfully unaware of the situation, made an astute—if oblivious—observation.

”…Rick Wyatt?”

From the depths of the Commander’s office, a voice called out.

Rick, who hadn’t been paying much attention to the imposing figure at the desk, stiffened at the unexpected sound of his name.

Slowly, he turned.

“Yes, it’s Rick Wyatt.”

His gaze met Cayenne’s.

The young noble sat behind a luxurious desk, fingers interlocked, watching him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Rick’s brown eyes flickered with mixed emotions—curiosity, intrigue, and the subtle excitement of being personally addressed by a member of such a prestigious family.

Cayenne tilted his head slightly.

“You’re the second son of the Wyatt Baron family, correct?”

“That’s correct. My father works under the Chief Treasurer.”

Cayenne’s smile deepened at the unsolicited information. Jack, sitting at the desk by the door, clicked his tongue inwardly. Rick Wyatt, slightly blushing at Cayenne’s clear smile, seemed oblivious to the implied question of “Who asked?” in Cayenne’s curt response.

“I see. Then you must not be unfamiliar with the workings around here.”

“…Pardon?”

Rick Wyatt blinked, confused by the mention of “workings.” Jack, anticipating the reaction, clicked his tongue more vigorously while watching Rick Wyatt’s profile.

“Even though he was your subordinate until recently, Sir Jack Carlson has achieved numerous merits and has been dispatched as my personal secretary. It seems the hierarchy is still somewhat complex for you, Sir Rick Wyatt.”

Even Rick Wyatt, who lacked awareness, couldn’t miss the subtle reprimand in Cayenne’s gentle words, which essentially meant, “Aren’t you addressing my secretary properly?” Rick, feeling a sting, glanced between Jack and Cayenne, stammering.

“Well, that’s…”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll correct it.”

Even without knowing much about Cayenne, Rick Wyatt was quick to adjust his posture and tone, realizing that the sharp retort was not something to take lightly.

His gaze flickered toward Jack, filled with a tangle of emotions—whether it was dissatisfaction, resentment, or reluctant acceptance was unclear.

“I brought the documents related to the recent leave allocation, Secretary…”

The words were squeezed out, begrudging and stiff.

Rick—who, until recently, had looked down on Jack—was now forced into the humiliating position of speaking to him formally.

It was immensely satisfying.

And yet, a small part of Jack almost felt pity for him. Almost.

Jack accepted the stack of documents with a composed expression, savoring the moment.

“Understood, Squad Leader Rick Wyatt.”

Ah, this… this is the taste of power.

A thrill ran through him—one he had never experienced before.

Only then did Cayenne, still seated leisurely at his desk, seem more at ease.

Jack had begun to accept it.

Their new Knight Commander—despite his immaculate, young, and sophisticated appearance, the very image of high society—was, at his core, an old-school stickler who demanded absolute respect in the hierarchy.

Jack had lost count of how many times he had been forced to swallow his pride, much like Rick just now, after thoughtlessly speaking out of turn.

This was just another reminder.

Cayenne Madison didn’t tolerate disorder.

“Hey.”

Jack, whose heart had softened after receiving formal speech from Rick Wyatt for the first time, looked up at Rick’s whisper from across the desk.

“But why the hell is your seat like this?”

Rick seemed to think Cayenne wouldn’t hear. Jack saw Cayenne’s face, sitting behind, rise like a meerkat, but Rick Wyatt, with his back turned, seemed unaware. A sharp glare flashed from Cayenne’s eyes, like a blade of light. It seemed he could hear the furious roar of “That bastard.”

“What do you mean by my seat?”

“Isn’t it too exposed? Even if you’re a secretary…”

—Bang!

Before Rick Wyatt could finish his sentence, a loud noise erupted from the Commander’s desk far away. Rick flinched, distancing himself from Jack and cautiously gauging the situation.

“These days, really, who knows what the world is coming to.”

Cayenne clicked his tongue loudly, as if for Rick to hear. Though his eyes were on the documents, anyone could tell his words were directed at Rick Wyatt, who showed no sign of correcting himself despite a previous warning.

“Then I’ll be on my way.”

In the end, Rick, unable to fully voice his dissatisfaction about the overly open secretary’s position, retreated. Jack, pleased with the formal speech returned to him, smiled and said, “Take care.” Rick, with a disgruntled expression, glanced between Cayenne and Jack before stepping out the door.

Even at the sound of the door closing, Jack continued to smile. This was why people were so eager to succeed. To receive such formal speech from Rick Wyatt. It felt like a grudge from a past life was being resolved.

“Do you still think you’re that guy’s lackey? Make sure you claim the rights you need to.”

But unlike the satisfied Jack, Cayenne’s expression and voice were filled with dissatisfaction. Jack, with a face marked by a bluish bruise, laughed sheepishly.

“There’s nothing I can do. He’s a noble from a baron family, and I’m just a commoner…”

“So what if you’re a commoner? Were all the noble bastards in the Empire born nobles?”

The heir of the Madison family, a noble family since the Empire’s inception, spoke. It wasn’t particularly convincing, but Jack just laughed. Somehow, it felt good. Even though he had received a glorious wound from a careless remark, the content, despite the cold tone, was quite favorable.

“Now that you’re my secretary, any disrespect or disregard towards you is directed at me, so be careful. If I see you being disrespected anywhere, I won’t let it slide.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jack sat in a position where, if he just turned his head, he could see Cayenne’s face directly.

He nodded silently, swallowing the words that nearly slipped out—“The one who disregards me the most is the Commander.”

Jack was a master of social restraint.

His gaze wandered across the Commander’s office, taking in the space as Cayenne, now engrossed in paperwork, paid him no mind.

Rick Wyatt’s earlier question echoed in his head—

“Why is your seat like this?”

The room was vast, with one entire wall made of windows, flooding the space with natural light. At the far end, an imposing desk stood, intricately carved with the figures of the four great spirits—an unmistakable symbol of authority.

Cayenne sat behind it, half-buried in the mountain of documents that had accumulated during his absence.

In front of him, a large meeting table stretched out, with enough chairs to easily seat ten people side by side.

And Jack?

Jack’s desk was placed sideways—near the entrance.

Far from the grandeur, far from the center of power.

A subtle but clear reminder of his place.