IWM Ch 4

The space was silent.

Inside a sealed, rectangular room, its vertical length exceeding its width. Dark maroon wooden molding adorned the walls, and the interior, decorated with matching marble, exuded an air of luxury and refinement.

Clink. A whiskey on the rocks was calmly placed on a wide black table. The thick fingers that set down the glass carelessly flipped through a sheet of paper.

The ledger was handwritten. Scrawled handwriting. Letters pressed firmly, stitch by stitch. Beneath the characters carved with such care, regardless of penmanship, lay a fear directed at whoever read it.

On the paper, the traces of crimes accumulated since the grandfather’s generation were meticulously recorded. The world is full of countless evils lurking. If someone were to try to uncover even a fraction of them, this ledger would surely prove useful.

Some myths say that a young man, donning wings made of bird feathers, tried to soar but fell into the sea of the gods when the wax melted under the sun’s rays. Does carrying malice always drag one downward, beyond the reach of heaven’s judgment?

As evidence, the family business, passed down through three generations, stood unshaken, neither crumbling nor declining.

Leaning back on a red sofa, Jihwon wore a tailored suit that seemed at odds with the baseball cap he had flipped backward on his head.

Setting down the glass, his now-empty hand picked up a white cigarette holder. Soon, pale smoke filled the room, empty save for one person, like a cloud of lime dust.

Click—

“Oh my, Executive Director! You should’ve said something if you were here~”

The silence was broken by a man who burst through the door. He bounded into the room with exaggerated enthusiasm and claimed the spot on the sofa next to Jihwon.

“Come on, hiding that handsome face again! Don’t you know how disappointed the kids are? They live for the rare moments they get to see you, Executive Director…”

He twisted his body, cooing in a nasal tone.

Each time the man fidgeted, the glittering ornaments on his clothing jangled loudly. They sparkled so intensely they could sting the eyes, making the expensive designer outfit look like plastic trinkets given to children.

The stiff brim of the baseball cap lazily turned toward the man.

“Too close.”

The flat, emotionless voice carried no feeling.

The man flinched, slowly straightening his upper body, which had been leaning toward Jihwon. Only then did Jihwon face forward again.

“What, am I supposed to walk around with my face held high like I’m doing something honorable? Like you, Manager Jung?”

He muttered, his gaze fixed on the ledger he’d been reading.

“…Right, haha. Can’t just show your precious face to anyone, can we? The headquarters is doing so well, after all. I’m worried you’ll get too famous, Executive Director.”

Headquarters, Jihwon repeated to himself, smirking.

Strictly speaking, this place could be called the headquarters. It was because of establishments like this and those businesses that Daeho Construction could rise to what it is now.

Even after Daeho Construction established itself as a legitimate construction company, it couldn’t—or rather, didn’t—abandon its roots. There was no need to hand over the cash cow thriving in the blind spots of the law to someone else.

Daeho Construction, cloaked in a respectable facade, could never openly reveal this. The establishments once managed by the Daeho faction were all held under disguised names, firmly in the grip of Chairman Cha Kangyul. One of the roles of the field team, teeming with the chairman’s direct subordinates, was to oversee these illegal operations.

The place where this man served as manager was among the less repulsive of them. A private premium bar with a sophisticated ambiance. That’s what it claimed to be, but in truth, it was little different from a yōtei—a high-class venue where secretive dealings among politicians, businessmen, celebrities, or industry insiders took place.

“By the way, what brings you here so soon? It hasn’t been long since your last visit.”

How long had it been since he’d pulled back? Manager Jung leaned closer, his tone brimming with curiosity.

“Maybe, just maybe… is there a waiter here who’s caught your eye?”

A blatant omega pheromone wafted out. The smell of cheap perfume. It deserved to be called a stench. The word “fragrance” was too precious to waste on it.

Naturally, Jihwon recalled a scent from not long ago. A fragrance that didn’t suit that soft, youthful face. It was the only way to describe it, lacking any other comparison. The smell of that kid’s skin.

Jihwon furrowed his brow ever so slightly.

“Manager Jung.”

He called out to the man, his expression hidden under the cap’s brim carefully composed.

“By the way, Executive Director, I’m not Manager Jung—”

“In your eyes, do I look like I have the time to go around sleeping with random waiters from random joints?”

“No, what kind of talk is that?”

“Guess I need to step up and work harder, huh?”

As if pondering, Jihwon rubbed his jawline with one hand. The preserved snake eyes embedded in the ring on his hand glinted venomously at Manager Jung.

“Or maybe the chairman’s mistress sent you to poke around?”

“…”

The sudden, blunt question made Manager Jung blink rapidly. Jihwon didn’t miss that fleeting moment. Who’d call this guy a spy?

The work was already mostly done.

Jihwon promptly rose from his seat.

“Executive Director, why would you suspect me like that? ‘Poke around’? That’s a bit harsh.”

Manager Jung looked up at him, feigning hurt.

“The madam worries about you every day, Executive Director. I was just curious because I’m concerned too. The kids here adore you, so I thought I’d introduce you to someone you might like—”

Clang—

With a careless gesture, a heavy glass toppled over with a crash. Jihwon had knocked it over with a single finger.

From the table to the hem of Manager Jung’s garish pants, amber whiskey spilled in streams. Jihwon stubbed out his cigarette in the pooling liquid.

A low, chuckling laugh echoed through the room.

“That’s strange, Manager Jung. Why are you looking for a madam who doesn’t exist? I don’t think there’s a madam in our household.”

The leather-bound ledger dropped onto Manager Jung’s soaked knees with a thud, as if discarding trash.

“Just do the job headquarters assigned you…”

The ornaments dangling from Manager Jung’s outfit trembled, clinking metallically. It seemed a scratch had been etched into the pride of the man who’d been king of this place.

Without sparing him a glance, Jihwon looked past the open door. After a brief pause, he spoke.

“Big round eyes, plump lips are nice.”

“…Huh?”

“The prettier, the better.”

Manager Jung stared at Jihwon, looking even more bewildered than before. The corner of his mouth split into a wide grin.

“Lately, I find those types entertaining.”

“…”

“But you’d know, Manager. Getting caught arranging stuff like that? This isn’t a brothel.”

Of course, his father’s mistress had once been a worker here. Unable to even make it onto the less-than-pristine family registry, she was now reduced to serving an old man past sixty, no different from selling her youth.

No matter how many fine labels you slap on it, if the roots are rotten, it’s bound to end badly. Everything does.

It wasn’t a question expecting an answer. Jihwon slipped his hands into his suit pockets and turned to leave through the door.

The hallway matched the room’s interior concept. With no windows or ceiling openings, it felt like a karaoke bar, lined with private room doors facing each other from end to end.

Then, from the opposite side of the corridor, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer.

“Executive Director!”

Taesoo was hurriedly rushing toward him.

“Are you heading that way…?”

Jihwon had tasked Taesoo with retrieving some documents needed at Daeho Construction’s headquarters. It wasn’t far from the establishment, so what had he been doing to arrive only now? Jihwon patted the panting Taesoo’s shoulder.

“Taesoo, did you swing by an auto factory or something?”

“…Huh, what?”

“What happened before you showed up here acting all busy?”

Taesoo’s eyes darted nervously. Jihwon’s tone was as gentle as usual, but it was clear his boss wasn’t in the best mood. Still, there was a more pressing matter.

“On the other side, in the rooms, I saw Director Shin Jin-yeon from Aehwa faction…”

Taesoo whispered urgently into Jihwon’s ear.

The name Taesoo mentioned was someone best avoided—someone sniffing around the dark legacy Daeho Construction had kept hidden.

“If you’re done with everything, it’s better to take this passage…”

Tch. Jihwon clicked his tongue lightly and changed direction.

Walking ahead of Taesoo, he opened the emergency exit door leading to the underground parking lot. Unlike the recently remodeled interior, the stairwell was musty and dim.

As he descended the steps casually, Taesoo hesitated behind him and asked, “Uh… Executive Director, are you okay?”

“Don’t people usually avoid asking that to someone who looks fine?”

“…You seemed to push yourself coming here. I mean…”

Jihwon, as if tired, took off his baseball cap. Visiting this place before the deadline wasn’t an accident—it was deliberate.

The ledger was structured so that the writer, the overseer, and the owner were all different, each watching the others. If Jihwon moved faster than planned, the ledger’s owner, Cha Kangyul, would naturally take notice. He didn’t trust his only son, after all.

And why would he? No farmer would hand over the farm’s title to a rooster raised in a coop. The irony was laughable. By Cha Kangyul’s logic, wasn’t Jihwon destined to become the rooster taking over the farm?

In any case, the maneuver had worked to some extent. The unexpected appearance of the mistress’s spy would only help. This would ensure the minor commotion at headquarters’ lobby a few days ago wouldn’t reach the chairman’s ears.

“All this fuss over one kid.”

A smile slipped out from between his lips.

“…Huh? What?”

Taesoo jumped, startled as if he’d overheard a grave secret. Jihwon paused mid-step on the stairs and glanced back.

“Taesoo.”

“Hyung—uh, I mean, Executive Director, I…”

“Why’d you say that kid from the bossam place was a beta?”

“What?”

The sudden question froze Taesoo in place. Like a student facing a pop quiz, he stammered nervously.

“You… seemed to take a liking to him, Executive Director…”

In truth, it was a pointless question now.

His subordinate was a beta, so he wouldn’t have known. That scent, radiating like a halo, from someone who’d never once suppressed their pheromones. The sharp eyes brimming with tears, cheeks flushed like ripe fruit, the omega pheromones that surged even more during a kiss. The moment he stole those lips replayed in his mind.

Jihwon smirked, one corner of his mouth lifting. He’d known from the start that Maeng Chiyoon was an omega. There was no need to mention it.

That kiss had been a kind of warning.

Creak—

The emergency exit’s metal door groaned as it opened. Stepping leisurely into the parking lot, Taesoo came tumbling down the stairs behind him.

“Executive Director, about that kid from the bossam place…”

He struggled to keep up with Jihwon’s stride, stuttering.

“Yeah, the young master from that place. Did you escort him back properly last time?”

“Of… course. You told me to, Executive Director…”

At his age, reminiscing about tangling tongues with someone felt a bit late. Yet, amidst the chaos, it crossed his mind often. The kid had a knack for sparking curiosity, and not the ordinary kind.

[Baby, you’re an omega, aren’t you?]

[….]

[Is this old man right or wrong? Hm?]

Back then, Chiyoon had stayed silent. Jihwon thought the kid was a chatterbox, like a sparrow, but he was also pretty good at clamming up when it suited him.

Those already wide eyes grew even rounder, his plump lips soaked with saliva. It was the kind of look that’d stir any bad guy.

[Didn’t the guy who almost became your husband say something? That he wouldn’t sleep with or marry an omega?]

Jihwon had wiped those lips with the back of his hand. Like a reptile’s tongue savoring its prey, he brushed against the soft flesh.

[What a shame. Guess I can’t do anything with you now, Chiyoon.]

His thick fingers tapped the soft cheek lightly.

[Taesoo. The sun’s already setting.]

Jihwon said quietly over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on the downy, pale cheek.

[…Yes, huh?!]

Taesoo, who’d been staring out the window, yelped. He was clearly flustered. And no wonder—the sky outside was clear and blue, the sun still shining brightly. There was plenty of time before sunset.

[The kid’s mom must be worried. Take him home.]

Jihwon walked past Chiyoon without looking back.

The moment he left the office.

In the brief instant the door opened and closed—

[Hey—! Cha Ji, hwon! You son of a—]

A shrill voice bellowed coarsely.

In the end, he didn’t catch the full curse. If he had to name one regret, that was it. He’d made it clear that marriage was off the table, so the kid probably wouldn’t show up again.

He wondered if Chiyoon was pulling the same stunt with other guys elsewhere. No need to hide being an omega, so the same situation wouldn’t repeat.

“When he said he wouldn’t sleep with omegas, I should’ve caught on from the way he bristled.”

The kid wasn’t ordinary, that’s for sure. Compared to others his age, Chiyoon was sharp. Yet he was convinced people would buy that he was a beta.

That face, claiming to be a beta, was bold and confident enough to make you want to believe him. It was strange. With omega pheromones floating around him like a cloud, how was anyone supposed to buy that? Why he insisted on it only became clear after the kiss.

Alpha and omega pheromones are more instinct than reason. Engraved deep in the brain, the reproductive drive emits them to procreate, surging more aggressively during sexual contact.

So when he recklessly mixed tongues and saliva, amid the shower of Chiyoon’s pheromones like falling petals, Jihwon concluded: anyone who’d tasted this properly even once wouldn’t have let him go.

Maeng Chiyoon was likely recessive. In the biological sense of the term, his omega traits probably hadn’t been outwardly apparent until now. For a recessive omega’s pheromones to feel so vivid to him…

“Ridiculous. Talk about picking the wrong guy to propose to.”

Jihwon let out a dry laugh. His sharp eyes, weighed by fatigue, softened slightly.

He was about to open the sedan’s back door.

“I-I-I have something to confess!”

A booming voice echoed off the empty parking lot’s ceiling and floor.

Taesoo and Jihwon stood facing each other across the car. Their eyes met above the vehicle’s height.

“Confess?”

Jihwon tilted his head, his face expressionless.

“…Yes, Executive Director, it’s…”

Taesoo had seemed like he wanted to say something earlier. But to wrap it up in a grand word like “confess”? Jihwon’s expression remained unimpressed.

“Taesoo, I get enough face time as it is.”

“…Huh, what?”

“I’m not out here sleeping with every beta. You’d know that better than anyone, right?”

Taesoo paled to a degree Jihwon didn’t think possible, his pupils trembling in shock.

“I’m the one who’s cold, so why’s Taesoo making that face? Trying to piss off the Executive Director?”

Jihwon jerked his chin toward the car, as if to say finish the conversation inside. Without looking at Taesoo, he climbed into the sedan.

Taesoo’s blinking eyes widened like saucers. “B-b-big trouble. Damn…” he muttered, jumping as if struck by lightning. He yanked open the driver’s door and scrambled in frantically.

“Hyung—no, Executive Director, inside—!”

“Hey, Cha Jihwon.”

Two voices, one from inside and one from outside, overlapped.

“Missed me, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t a question but a statement, brimming with confidence.

A pair of sharp, cat-like eyes narrowed playfully. The mole on Jihwon’s cheek, usually ignored, seemed to twitch for a moment.

“…Why does this feel like déjà vu?”

“I missed my baby so much I even dreamed about him. Should I go buy a lottery ticket or what?”

Ha. A hollow laugh escaped.

“Not a lottery ticket…”

The young, pretty face tilted in confusion, oblivious to the crude words that might follow.

Seeing him unchanged was almost exasperating. Jihwon had gone out of his way to warn him, but it clearly hadn’t sunk in.

No mistake about it—Maeng Chiyoon was in the car. Jihwon pressed his brow and closed his eyes tightly.

“Taesoo.”

“…Yes, Executive Director…”

“Didn’t you take him home last time?”

“That’s… what I mean…”

“Am I crazy, or are you?”

As Taesoo gritted his teeth, a slender arm grabbed Jihwon’s shoulders. Looking down, he saw a small hand clutching fistfuls of his oversized jacket.

“Leave Uncle Choi alone, okay? I’m busy too. I don’t have time for this, got it?”

“Did you two become besties behind my back?”

“Why would I with that guy?”

“Oh… so that’s why you were busy. Manager Ahn’s got it real good, huh.”

Their conversation ran parallel, never meeting. Taesoo, looking like a thief scaling a wall, watched them from the driver’s seat.

It all clicked now. Taesoo’s delay getting here from headquarters, the way he kept hesitating and watching Jihwon’s mood—it was all because of this reckless twenty-one-year-old.

A barely audible sigh slipped from Jihwon’s lips.

“Get out.”

A low, simmering edge laced the end of his voice.

“Me?”

Chiyoon asked with an innocent expression, pointing at himself with a slender, pretty finger for a restaurant kid.

“Not the baby.”

Jihwon glanced at Chiyoon, reaching for the door handle. His pale eyes then locked onto Taesoo. Catching the intent in his boss’s move, Taesoo jolted and scrambled out of the driver’s seat.

As Jihwon moved to step out, a faint tug—weak enough to shake off—pulled at his loose shirt collar.

His head turned obediently. The fingers that had been crumpling his jacket now grabbed his collar, yanking it tight.

Slam—!

The car rocked as the door slammed shut with force. Taesoo had bolted from the front seat. Understandable—he probably didn’t want to see what came next.

“Hn, ngh…”

Chiyoon pressed his lips against Jihwon’s. Well, more like just below his lips, on his chin. It wasn’t quite a peck or a kiss—more like a tap. Like a sparrow pecking at a rock with its tiny beak.

Jihwon watched the scene unfold before him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. The flushed face with tightly shut eyes was, as expected, a sight to behold.

“Kid, what’re you doing?”

Jihwon asked, bemused.

He raised a finger and gently pressed Chiyoon’s forehead. Even with light pressure, it felt like it might leave a mark on that delicate skin.

“Can’t you tell…? I’m k-kissing.”

Chiyoon held his ground, mumbling with unclear pronunciation.

“…This is it?”

The innocent question made Chiyoon’s fine brow crumple in frustration.

He stuck out his tongue defiantly, his face as red as the tongue itself, inching closer.

“Baby, you’re one determined Korean, huh?”

Jihwon teased. Before the tongue could graze his smooth jaw, a large palm covered Chiyoon’s face entirely.

Through the gaps, light brown eyes blazed fiercely. Calling this a kiss? Already, the cramped, sealed space was filling with soft, blooming pheromones.

It hit him out of nowhere. What was that scent? Then he remembered—a meeting for a forest park redevelopment project with a local government. A kind-faced official had handed over some documents.

Peony. A flower that blooms from April to May. The “king of flowers,” symbolizing wealth and honor. Not too heavy, not too light—a sweet scent that stirred strange imaginations.

A fragrance that didn’t suit this unpredictable nutcase at all. That was Maeng Chiyoon’s pheromone scent.

Jihwon’s face hardened.

The silence was brief.

He thrust his arm forward, easily pushing Chiyoon back. Like a receding tide, Chiyoon was swept away in an instant.

Clink.

“Gonna let go of this?”

A silver metal watch, snug on his wrist, was caught. Like someone swept by a wave grabbing a buoy, Chiyoon clutched Jihwon’s wrist with both hands.

“I can do it with you.”

“…What?”

“Why do you say you can’t with me?”

There was something Jihwon hadn’t yet realized.

No one could stop Maeng Chiyoon. Not now, not ever. And Chiyoon never missed the moment to strike.

This was that moment.

“If you weren’t gonna do it, why’d you kiss me?”

🥂

Last night.

“Maeng’s Jinmi Bossam” was dark and quiet, its lights off.

The restaurant was nestled in an aging building that had weathered decades alongside the Cheongham Traditional Market complex.

The third floor marked the divide between the bustling restaurant where customers came and went and the living quarters of the Maeng family. The third floor was mainly used by Chiyoon’s busy parents and elderly grandparents. The fourth and fifth floors, including the rooftop, were mostly used as storage.

It was a wildly successful restaurant, and a household where three generations lived under one roof. Even without doing anything, the family needed a lot, and the belongings to support six people naturally piled up.

Soft moonlight bathed the space. A large window stood with its curtains flung wide open. The living room floor was covered with a blue tarp, and on it, glossy red chili peppers sprawled in heaps.

Even setting aside the peppers Grandma had painstakingly dried, the space was packed with boxes and miscellaneous items. No one was talking, yet it felt lively enough.

A single beam of light slipped through.

Following the faint, warm yellow glow led to a room tucked in a corner of the fourth floor. The first thing that stood out was the dark wooden furniture, older than the room’s occupant.

Amid the tightly packed furnishings, pops of mismatched, vibrant colors stood out. Books with kitschy typography on their spines came in pink, red, lime green, and more. On the bookshelf, desk, and bed headboard’s rack, several male figurines were displayed.

With the lights blazing, the room had an overall peculiar vibe. It wasn’t sleek enough to pass as a trendy retro café interior, nor did it feel disorganized.

A calm yet subtly flamboyant atmosphere. It was the only personal space for Chiyoon in the “Maeng’s Jinmi Bossam” building.

Heebom-nim

Tap, tap, tap. Fingers worn smooth from use danced across the phone screen.

Do you believe in fate?

Chiyoon lay on the bed, staring at the phone.

His pajama top was adorned with artwork of two male characters, accented by aesthetically striking typography in English and Chinese. “Everlasting Moon,” “永遠之月.” All of them meant The Eternal Moon.

It was only natural, since the T-shirt was a gift from Heebom. In fact, most of the items splashing vibrant colors across the room were things she’d given him.

Not long after, a “…” appeared in the SNS DM window. It wasn’t surprising—Heebom was always online, practically living on social media. But a reply didn’t come for several minutes.

What’s that supposed to mean?

It’d be hard to explain in under 10,000 words ;

I was writing something, but I deleted it ‘cause I thought you’d freak out ^_^a

That was the response that finally arrived. What on earth had she been writing? Chiyoon’s brow furrowed slightly.

I’m asking if you believe in it or not.

How could I not believe, are you crazy ;;

Seriously;; Chichi-nim, you’ve read Eternal Moon too;; ㅜ How can you know about Hwimun and Ryuyang and still ask something as obvious as whether I believe in fate? Motion to dismiss denied, three strikes!!

Tch, the soft sound of a tongue clicking echoed through the room.

That damn Eternal Moon.

That work was the BL novel that Chiyoon’s one and only cyber friend, Heebom, loved more than anything in the world.

The Eternal Moon was a sci-fi story set in the vast expanse of space. A poor space janitor, the protagonist Ryuyang, gets entangled with another protagonist, Hwimun, due to a certain incident, leading to a cascade of events.

In the story, Hwimun appears as a mysterious, shady man. Think #slygong, #brattygong, #scheming/blackheartedgong, #intensegong vibes. Ryuyang knows Hwimun is dangerous but falls for him helplessly, as happens in all romance genres.

Unbidden, a low voice surfaced in his mind.

[Look at you… you smell fucking amazing.]

Chiyoon flipped the phone facedown beside his pillow. Judging by the persistent buzzing, Heebom was probably unloading the 10,000-word debate she’d mentioned writing and deleting earlier.

It wasn’t that he believed in things like fate. Fate, romance, something eternal—those things didn’t exist in reality, only in fantasies, didn’t they? The 8,472 webnovels and webtoons in Chiyoon’s Soomdabooks library were proof of that.

Oh. Except for Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa.

Medically speaking, there was supposed to be no one who could detect Chiyoon’s pheromones. Maybe one person, at most. Yet Cha Jihwon had smelled Maeng Chiyoon’s pheromones.

It was statistically absurd.

One in eight billion people on Earth.

Cha Jihwon being that one in eight billion…

It was so astonishing it left him dumbfounded. That’s why he’d been mulling over a romantic word like “fate.” It definitely wasn’t because he was indulging in the naïve sentiments of a twenty-something.

Chiyoon had his own agenda. Cha Jihwon met every condition his mom had set for a partner. When he evaluated his appearance and personality point by point, he didn’t seem like a bad choice for a year-long marriage.

On the other hand, he also had some cunning thoughts. Even if Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa vehemently opposed the marriage, bringing an alpha home would be shocking enough on its own. That would make independence easier, wouldn’t it?

And then to top it off, Jihwon could even detect his pheromones. It was practically a bonus. If he brought up fate and claimed it was love at first sight, even his parents wouldn’t have much to say. After all, they believed they’d had a fateful encounter themselves.

It had been a few days since Jihwon’s dismissal had pushed him out of Daeho Construction’s headquarters. Yet the sensation of his lips being devoured and the tingling of his tongue felt vivid even now.

Come to think of it, that was his first kiss.

Good thing I called him a bastard.

He wasn’t the type to assign meaning to “firsts.” He was just annoyed because it hadn’t happened on his terms. Especially because his body had reacted so dramatically to his first-ever contact with an alpha.

Oh, and it stung a bit that he’d been too stunned to clap back right away. Honestly—really honestly—it wasn’t that it felt bad. It was just… weird.

In any kind of content, the first kiss is always a big deal. It’s the part where dazzling descriptions and dramatic staging crash in like a tsunami, right? Lines about bells ringing in your ears or flower petals falling even in the dead of winter—it’s portrayed as an extraordinarily special moment.

Chiyoon’s first kiss didn’t come with ringing bells or falling petals. All he remembered was the scent that pierced his nose. Like sitting by the remnants of a bonfire on a beach, a smoky yet crisp smell.

Without thinking, he brought his fingers to his lips, brushing them. A sudden premonition flashed through his mind. A feeling that something new was about to unfold swelled within him.

Chiyoon’s life had been like a highway speeding toward a single destination. He’d never felt the future to be so uncertain before.

And that felt good. In the end, it all boiled down to one conclusion.

He absolutely could not let Cha Jihwon slip away.

🥂

Contrary to Cha Jihwon’s attempt to scare him with talk of sex, Chiyoon felt an baseless confidence. Having done it once, he figured he could do it twice. Hell, he could probably handle worse.

So, tracking down Cha Jihwon and pressing his lips to his was pure stubbornness—a revenge. A way to make him pay for daring to warn the third-generation heir of the Maeng family.

“If you weren’t going to do it, why’d you kiss me?”

Everything Cha Jihwon said was a contradiction.

He claimed he had no interest in omegas, yet he’d threatened to sleep with him. He said he wouldn’t have sex or marry an omega, yet he’d rubbed lips with him.

After all, wasn’t it kiss, then foreplay, then sex? And then marriage followed. If the sequence Chiyoon knew wasn’t wrong, Jihwon shouldn’t have kissed him at all.

Chiyoon narrowed his eyes sharply.

“Am I right or wrong? Huh?”

Even the slimmest chance—he had to seize it tenaciously and pull Jihwon toward him. To make Cha Jihwon marry Maeng Chiyoon.

Jihwon said nothing. Meeting his gaze, he turned his head with a natural movement, as if lost in deep thought.

Watching Jihwon stay silent made Chiyoon feel less like he’d landed a blow and more like his chest was tightening. He prodded him.

“Hey, Cha Jihwon. Baby, can’t you hear me?”

“…How the hell did you even get here?”

Jihwon asked, covering his lips with one hand. His obvious attempt to change the subject made Chiyoon’s eyes narrow further.

When Chiyoon didn’t answer, Jihwon turned his upper body toward the car door again. Clink. As if refusing to let go, Chiyoon tightly hugged the hand he’d been holding.

A heavy sigh reverberated through the car.

“This old man’s not running away.”

Tap. A large finger touched Chiyoon’s round forehead. It seemed like he meant to flick it, but it didn’t hurt at all. The touch was careful, like playing a piano key.

“I’m a bit too old and busy to ditch my car and walk home just because of a whiny twenty-one-year-old.”

Hmph. Chiyoon let out a sullen huff.

Jihwon pressed the window switch pointedly, as if to make a show of it. Then, in a low voice, he called out.

“Taesoo.”

“I-I-I wasn’t looking, hyung…!”

“Cut the nonsense and get in.”

As soon as the order was given, the window rolled back up. Jihwon nodded, as if he’d sized up the situation.

“Looks like Manager Ahn picked the wrong career. Seems he’s better suited to chauffeuring kids than driving around some gruff old guy in the back.”

It seemed Jihwon had pieced together how Chiyoon ended up here. His tone was laced with sarcasm toward Taesoo, but his clear voice made it sound like he was simply stating facts.

Jihwon’s guess wasn’t far from the truth.

[Hey, Maeng Chiyoon! Where are you off to on this moonlit night?!]

[To… meet a friend?]

[What? A friend?!]

After closing up “Maeng’s Jinmi Bossam,” Chiyoon had bolted straight to Daeho Construction’s headquarters. His excuse about “meeting a friend” made his mom look like she’d never heard the word “friend” before.

[Why, why, why… are you here…? No, have you… ever met someone else here? Please, say no…]

Running into Taesoo in the headquarters’ lobby was pure luck. Last time, he’d dragged him straight to the executive director’s office—did they not want his presence known around the company? The math added up quickly.

[How about we settle something first?]

[…Huh?]

[Your name. Is it Taesoo or Choisoo?]

The man’s stern face, already grimacing, twisted oddly. It was a look torn between joy and sorrow.

[Alright, Uncle Choisoo.]

[Y-yes…]

Chiyoon had finally figured it out. Taesoo’s real name was Ahn Choisoo. But how could someone always get the name of the guy constantly by their side wrong? He felt a pang of pity for Taesoo.

But then Chiyoon grinned devilishly.

[Last time I saw, no wonder it’s a fancy company—the floors are top-notch, huh?]

[…What?]

[I’m here to see Director Cha Jihwon, got it?]

Pity was pity, but business was business. He’d thrown a cheerful threat at Taesoo.

[If Uncle Choisoo doesn’t take me to Cha Jihwon, I might just lie down here again. It wasn’t half bad, you know.]

“If the Executive Director finds out, I’m dead.” That’s what Taesoo had muttered like a prayer the whole way here. He couldn’t leave Chiyoon at the company, but his body trembled at the thought of bringing him to Jihwon.

It was the same now.

Back in the car, Taesoo recounted the full story to Jihwon in detail. Kneeling in the driver’s seat like a condemned man, he hung his head toward the back seat.

“Baby, you went as far as kissing me—does it make sense to say you can’t marry me? Are you messing with me right now?”

Chiyoon ignored him gracefully. His tone was so natural, it was as if he didn’t even know Taesoo was there.

Taesoo’s eyes quaked like an earthquake.

“…E-Executive Director, should I… stay here…?”

“After chauffeuring a few others in the back seat, our Taesoo’s forgotten who his direct boss is?”

Taesoo clamped his mouth shut. If a meme like “please don’t @ me” could be a facial expression, that’d be it.

Jihwon’s hand was still held captive by Chiyoon. Like a squirrel hoarding food in its cheeks for winter, refusing to let go.

“Quit fooling around and look ahead. Aren’t you driving?”

Jihwon said, running a hand through his thick hair.

“Y-yes, sir, I’m on it!”

Driving seemed easier for him, as Taesoo visibly brightened. Then, hesitating, he asked Jihwon again.

“B-but… where to…?”

Jihwon’s sharp eyes flicked to Chiyoon before settling back on Taesoo. The silent pressure made him flinch. Straightening up, he started the car.

“S-straight to the young master’s place, sir.”

Vroom—

The sleek sedan, as polished as its owner, began to pull out of the underground parking lot. Outside the window, the tacky green and gray paint of the parking walls gave way to the blackened night sky. Neon signs from skyscrapers filtered through the glass, casting light into the car.

“Hey—!”

An angry voice rang through the cramped car. Chiyoon finally flung Jihwon’s hand away.

As if it didn’t hurt, Jihwon wiggled his wrist. A kindly, uncle-like remark followed.

“Your parents must be working hard at the restaurant. Get some lotion or something—don’t ruin those pretty hands.”

“They’re already ruined enough without your concern? I’ve had enough of your deflection skills, so just answer me. This kind of charm offensive is annoying, you know?”

“So this counts as a charm offensive? Kids these days have tastes I can’t keep up with…”

The conclusion was clear. The kiss had been Cha Jihwon’s mistake. That’s why he had no intention of answering the question.

Chiyoon immediately thought of Plan B.

“There’s something I never knew about myself. Turns out, I’m pretty good at public protests. Maybe I should get cozy with the folks at your company’s lobby desk.”

“Now you’re threatening me too.”

Jihwon laughed, incredulous. Even as he said “threatening,” his face looked like he’d heard an amusing joke.

“For a kid living an honest life, our company’s not exactly a great place to wear out the doorstep.”

“Why not? The floors are marble, and the lobby’s nice and warm.”

“What’s so great about hanging around where gruff old guys come and go, huh?”

Now he was almost coaxing. Realizing warnings didn’t work, he’d switched to persuasion. But Chiyoon caught the hidden subtext between the lines.

“The one who’d be in trouble if those gruff old guys spotted me—isn’t that you?”

“Gasp…”

A sharp intake of breath came from the driver’s seat. It sounded like an exclamation from a soap opera viewer. Chiyoon shrugged triumphantly.

“Our Manager Ahn’s being spectacularly unhelpful today.”

Jihwon pressed his temple with a large hand.

“What’s Uncle Choisoo done wrong? You’re the one who got caught by me.”

Jihwon propped his chin on his knee, looking at Chiyoon. He seemed deep in thought, wondering what to do with him.

“Well, it’d be just as bad for the kid if they caught you. We’ve got an old man with weird ideas at the company, and a nine-tailed fox glued to his side.”

Jihwon continued in a low voice.

It sounded like he was reciting a folktale, but Chiyoon instantly picked up the implication. He’d overheard Taesoo and Jihwon’s earlier conversation. For Jihwon to mention an “old man” indirectly like that, it had to be someone like the chairman of Daeho Construction—Jihwon’s father.

Chiyoon blinked innocently.

“Even if we’re doing this because we like each other, it’s marriage—I’d have to meet my father-in-law eventually. That’s how filial love works. My dad told me so.”

Honestly, whether Cha Jihwon got along with his father or not made no difference to Chiyoon. It only strengthened his conviction. Jihwon didn’t want his family or company people to see Chiyoon. It didn’t feel great, but he had to use every leverage he could.

“So what the kid’s saying is, you’re gonna ignore everything I say and just lie down on the company floor?”

“Yup.”

“Man, you don’t even pretend to listen… Gotta treat your mom right.”

“My dad might be a bit jealous, but it’s good for a daughter-in-law and mother-in-law to get along. That’s how it is at our house.”

“…Not me. You, I mean you.”

His sharp eyes glared at Chiyoon, tiredly. Seeing that usually composed face twist felt oddly satisfying.

After a long silence, Jihwon finally spoke.

“Turn the car around.”

“…What?!”

Screech—

At an intersection between Ulchogu and Yongsangu, the black sedan, gliding smoothly, made a loud noise as it sharply U-turned. Chiyoon’s slender frame lurched toward the right side of the back seat.

“Ugh—!”

Tch, a tongue clicked. Jihwon, sitting casually, wrapped an arm around Chiyoon’s shoulders to steady him.

“Taesoo, wanna drive like crap?”

“S-sorry, sir…!”

Once again, the pheromone scent from the kiss wafted through.

After two or three times, it was a fragrance he’d grown familiar with. Come to think of it, it was strange. He’d never thought the smell of burning firewood was pleasant before. But from Jihwon, it was like the scent he’d caught when his family went camping by the lake.

“What’s the puppy sniffing at now?”

Jihwon tugged Chiyoon’s nape with gentle force. A faint crease formed on his smooth brow. Chiyoon mirrored it, forming his own little scowl.

“Petty much? Calling me a bastard just for sniffing my future husband?”

“Why’s someone who can’t even curse properly keep whining? Fearlessly, at an adult.”

“E-Executive D-Director…”

A tiny voice slipped between their verbal sparring. Clutching the steering wheel, Taesoo wandered the road like a GPS that’d lost its destination.

Their eyes met through the rearview mirror.

“Go home.”

“T-to the young master’s place, I’d need to U-turn again…”

“Not the bossam place. My house.”

Jihwon said, gently releasing Chiyoon’s clothes.

Round eyes widened even further. Chiyoon pressed his lips down to hide his excitement. But his face, drunk on victory, twitched uncontrollably.

No phone number, no email, nothing. But getting his home address was a huge step forward. Entering a more private space than a company office meant they were getting closer emotionally too, right?

As expected, Cha Jihwon was slowly warming up to the contract marriage proposal. Outwardly, Chiyoon kept a neutral expression, but inside, he was cheering like a coach whose team had reached the World Cup semifinals.

Yeah, that’s what he thought at the time.

🥂

The officetel was located in Dongjakgu, across a Han River bridge from Ulchogu and Yongsangu. The neighborhood felt so serene and calm, it was hard to believe it was Seoul. It was worlds apart from the always-bustling Cheongham Market, yet it didn’t quite match the “rich neighborhood” vibe he’d seen on phones or TVs either.

Swoosh. The car Taesoo drove slipped into the officetel complex with ease. The place where Jihwon lived was structured with a residential officetel surrounded by a wall, the empty space turned into a park.

An officetel, sure, but it was practically a luxury apartment. And it seemed the entrance and exit had top-notch security.

He really is an executive director. It hit him anew. With all the pointless chatter every time they met, it hadn’t quite sunk in before.

“Baby, we at an amusement park?”

As they reached the entrance of the officetel building, Jihwon stepped out first. Only then did Chiyoon peel his forehead off the window and turn his head. Jihwon stood by the open door, jerking his chin as if to say, “Get out.”

Stepping outside, Jihwon closed the car door for him. Then he tapped twice on the passenger-side window next to the driver’s seat. As if waiting, the window rolled down quickly.

“Park it and clock out.”

Jihwon tossed the words at Taesoo.

“C-clock out?”

“Don’t wanna clock out?”

“…N-no, it’s just…”

It was already heading toward 10 p.m. Taesoo’s eyes darted between Jihwon and Chiyoon. Soon, the car’s wheels started rolling again.

“Have a great time, Executive Director!”

A booming voice rang out, filled with resolve.

Pfft. In the spot where Taesoo vanished, Jihwon’s lips curled slightly. True to his words, Chiyoon’s head was swiveling busily, like a kid at an amusement park for the first time, eyes stolen by everything.

“Said you’ve seen enough faces. Is this old man’s house handsomer than him? That’s hurtful.”

Jihwon tapped Chiyoon’s slender neck lightly. Startled by the warm touch, Chiyoon looked up.

It’d been ages since he’d been somewhere outside Ulchogu and its surroundings. Honestly, since high school, he could count the times he’d left home on one hand. Visiting someone else’s place was a first in his life.

Everything felt fascinating. There was no reason to say it, but no reason not to either. Cha Jihwon hadn’t told him why he kissed him yet, so they were even.

With a furrowed brow, Chiyoon stayed sulkily silent.

They stood facing each other, a step or two apart. A breeze from the Han River, wherever it was anchored, carried a cool, damp scent to his nose.

Under the streetlight, glossy black dress shoes drew a line between them. The sound of heels scraping the pavement grated on his ears.

“This is as far as the kid gets.”

“…What?”

Chiyoon’s head tilted so far it nearly touched his shoulder. If he were a cartoon character, three or four crossroad signs would’ve sprouted on his forehead.

“You’re kicking me out at the door?”

He muttered in an uncharacteristically menacing tone.

Jihwon chuckled. Not even taking it seriously, he smiled like he was watching a pet throw a tantrum.

“I know you’re fearless, but what—trying to barge into a strange man’s house?”

Hah. A hollow laugh escaped, incredulous. At Daeho Construction, he’d at least made it to the executive director’s office. Now he was getting turned away at the officetel entrance, not even the front door. If this was how it was gonna be, storming the headquarters again would’ve been a hundred times better.

“You think I’m some idol stalker? That I’d be thrilled just knowing your address?”

“Seemed like you were thrilled, no?”

He brushed off the sharp words poking at his intentions.

Chiyoon just wanted to charge at Jihwon.

One step. Then two.

In a few strides, the attempt was brutally thwarted.

As Chiyoon stormed forward, Jihwon scooped him up effortlessly. An arm propped somewhere between his hips and thighs—it felt like being carried in a palanquin. His dangling legs swung in the air again.

“Hey, Cha Jihwon.”

“You’ve been throwing my name around like crazy. Guess you’re finally tired of ‘baby.’”

Chiyoon scrunched his soft, doughy nose. Treating him like some lightweight package just because he sounded easygoing.

Tiny fists pounded on solid shoulders.

“Put me down!”

“Where’re you planning to scamper off to if I do?”

Unfazed by the feeble resistance, Jihwon started walking naturally.

Two meters off the ground. The only thing to cling to was the rock-like torso in front of him. Fingers worn smooth from use gripped the thick neck tightly. The position was ridiculous, but for intimidation, it was perfect.

Jihwon’s eyes slid over, scanning Chiyoon.

“Not really my kink.”

His sharp gaze still held a trace of amusement. Not even a hint of being choked.

Jihwon crossed the park within the officetel complex. Despite Chiyoon flailing fists and calves up and down, his steps remained light and effortless.