As soon as Inho stepped out of the car, deep lines formed on the forehead of the man standing in front of the black sedan. The man, who had blasted his horn noisily, was as tall as Inho.
“You could’ve at least answered your phone.”
He was a burly man, his large frame exaggerated by his stocky build. His booming voice and narrow, piercing eyes gave off an intimidating aura.
“Why are you here?”
Inho ignored the question and approached him, speaking in a brusque tone. His demeanor made it clear—get to the point and leave.
“You see your Hyung, and that’s the first thing you say? No greeting?”
The man stood with a slouched posture, hands shoved into his pockets. Though his features were partially buried in flesh, they were rugged and sharply defined. He looked nothing like Inho.
“Let’s at least stick to the basics of civility, yeah?”
Even his insolent way of speaking was completely different.
The only resemblance they shared was their height. This gruff-looking man was Inho’s second eldest brother, Seo Taewan. The child of Chairman Seo’s second wife, he was treated worse than an Omega in the family—despite being a recessive Alpha.
His name was Seo Taewan.
Out of all the brothers, he resembled the chairman of Hansung Group the most, especially in physique. While he had intentionally bulked up, he was also naturally big-boned. Seo Taewan took great pride in his large frame that mirrored their father’s.
Which was why, whenever he found himself in a tight spot or feeling disadvantaged, he would puff out his chest and make his presence even more imposing—just like now.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
Seo Taewan gestured toward Haon, who had stepped out from the passenger seat, with a tilt of his chin. He had no real intention of being properly greeted; he was just looking for a reason to pick a fight.
Upon hearing that, Haon paused and looked over at Inho.
“……”
But when Inho said nothing, Haon quickly moved away. It was only a brief moment, but the fleeting eye contact with Seo Taewan had made him shrink back instinctively.
“Your taste’s really changed, huh?”
Seo Taewan scoffed as he watched Haon’s hunched figure retreat. The way the boy avoided eye contact made him look like a frightened little rat—utterly unimpressive.
Inho listened to the fading sound of Haon’s footsteps, then took a step closer to Seo Taewan.
“I asked why you’re here.”
With a sharp click of his heels, Inho’s low voice reverberated in the air. As he went on, the smirk slowly faded from Seo Taewan’s lips.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
A mocking smile curled at the corners of Inho’s mouth as he repeated the question with a taunting “Hm?” In response, Seo Taewan clenched his jaw and slammed his fist down onto the hood of his car.
Thud!
The loud crash echoed all the way to Haon. He froze in front of the entrance door and turned back. His heart dropped—was that the sound of someone hitting Inho?
Thankfully, Inho was still standing upright, firm in front of the man. Their eyes met almost immediately—Inho had been watching him.
He gave Haon a slight smile, as if to say he was fine, then signaled toward the entrance with a flick of his eyes.
Catching Inho’s gaze, Haon reluctantly dragged his heavy feet forward. Just then, another apartment resident exited the building, and the door opened. Before he realized it, he had stepped inside.
‘Please, let nothing happen…’
Worry was etched across Haon’s face as he made his way to the elevator.
“You heard it’s Father’s birthday this week, right?”
Meanwhile, Seo Taewan, who had closed his eyes in an attempt to cool off, finally got to the point. He flexed and unflexed his now-stinging hand, then ran it through his waxed hair.
“I saw your name on the dinner list. That’s why I came—I was surprised.”
His lips curled into a strained smile. The crash against the car hadn’t been enough to vent his temper, and his deep voice still trembled with agitation.
“You never planned on showing up, did you?”
His eyes flashed sharply, hungry for a response. Inho raised his chin slightly and looked down at the snorting Seo Taewan.
“Hyung must have a lot of free time on his hands.”
In stark contrast to the flustered Seo Taewan, Inho’s expression remained calm. He looked like a wooden doll stripped of all emotion.
“Not as much as you, at least.”
Seo Taewan let out a forced laugh and clenched his thick hand into a fist again. If there hadn’t been people passing through the parking lot, he might have already thrown a punch.
“Just answer me. You’re not the kind of guy who gives a damn about Father’s birthday.”
He was the one who didn’t even show up to their father’s 70th, making Jang Eun-young’s blood pressure spike. So why was this bastard suddenly pretending to play the dutiful son?
There could only be one reason—to make sure he got his share.
The other brothers, including Seo Taewan, were sensitive to even the smallest move Inho made. Chairman Seo was still in good health, but he was clearly preparing to pass the reins soon.
And every year, the updated will still listed Inho’s name at the very top. That’s why the others couldn’t help but keep him in check.
“Inho.”
Seo Taewan smoothed his twisted expression with a long stroke across his face, thinking hard. Instead of slapping Inho, he pinched his own cheek, barely managing to fake a smile.
“If you need anything, just tell your brothers. Don’t force yourself to come to something uncomfortable.”
He softened his tone as if showing concern for Inho and reached out a hand, pretending to pat his shoulder in a friendly gesture.
But the moment his hand came close, Inho’s pupils twitched reflexively. It was a barely noticeable tremor, hidden on the surface—but Seo Taewan caught it.
“Then I’ll take it as you’re not coming.”
He redirected his hand away from Inho’s shoulder and casually stroked his own chin instead, as if the anger from earlier had never existed.
“No need to force yourself. Your mom’s tantrums are nothing new. Just ignore her.”
Seo Taewan unilaterally ended the conversation and climbed back into his car. With his business finished, his face looked visibly relieved. A smile curled on his thick lips—one that carried a different, concealed meaning.
“Hyung.”
Just then, Inho grabbed the car door and leaned down with a slight bow. Seo Taewan scowled, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture.
“See you Thursday.”
“You little—!”
Veins bulged on Seo Taewan’s neck as he prepared to shout, but he suddenly erupted into a fit of coughing, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“I wasn’t planning on going. But since you came all the way here throwing a tantrum like a rabid dog, I guess I have to.”
Inho’s voice was calm and languid, yet laced with fury. And he had begun releasing his pheromones.
“S-Stop it… you bastard…”
Seo Taewan gasped, covering his mouth. He tried to resist, but the overwhelming pheromones suffocated him. As a recessive Alpha, it was only natural he couldn’t handle Inho’s scent.
Pheromones released with deliberate aggression didn’t just affect Omegas—they overwhelmed other Alphas too. In Omegas, they triggered sexual arousal, but in Alphas, it felt like their airways were being crushed.
“You should’ve thought about that before showing up here.”
Inho casually placed a hand on Seo Taewan’s shoulder. Seo Taewan flinched, staggering as spittle dripped from his mouth.
“Get… your hand off…!”
He slapped Inho’s hand away and hurriedly started the engine. Without even bothering to close the door properly, he slammed on the gas as if fleeing.
Inho watched the black sedan roar out of the parking lot with a flat expression. It disappeared just as loudly as it had arrived.
All the noisy emotions Seo Taewan had thrown around were now dumped squarely on Inho. A silent sigh escaped between his lips, barely audible to anyone else.
He stood still for a long moment before slowly moving again. But instead of heading toward the entrance, he walked toward his own car. What he needed right now was the sedative in the center console.
Standing at the driver’s side, he let out a hollow laugh. His hand trembled faintly as he reached for the door handle. Once inside, the tremors only worsened.
He continued to chuckle quietly to himself as he chewed and swallowed the pills, then closed his eyes. That’s when a familiar voice echoed in his dulled ears.
“Try this. It’ll make you healthy.”
It was Seo Taewan’s voice—much younger, back when he didn’t bother hiding his hostility as a child.
“I said eat it. Come on, good boy. You ate it well, didn’t you?”
Among all the brothers, Seo Taewan had been the one to torment Inho the most. While the others treated him like he didn’t exist, Taewan would seek him out whenever boredom struck, just to inflict pain.
What started as “pranks” had turned more violent year after year.
Inho cracked the window slightly and reclined the seat. Transparent beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead as he loosened his tie.
As the sedative slowly took effect, Inho’s body began to feel limp and heavy. But despite his loosening limbs, his mind remained sharp and alert—trapped in a body that felt like a corpse. It was a sensation he was thoroughly sick of.
***
Inside the elevator, Inho leaned back against the wall as he pressed the button. The cold sweat had vanished from his face, which now looked relatively composed—perhaps thanks to the two hours of sleep he’d managed in the car.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirrored wall before shifting his gaze to the digital floor display. The numbers seemed to be climbing faster than usual today.
Ding— The elevator stopped at the 71st floor with a short mechanical chime, and the doors slid open.
But Inho didn’t move. He simply stared at the smooth, parting steel doors. Even after they were fully open, his back remained glued to the wall.
He was supposed to get off. But he couldn’t summon the will to move.
If he went back now, he’d probably have to explain everything to Haon… That thought alone made his feet feel like lead.
For a fleeting moment, he wished he could disappear somewhere. Drown himself in noise and booze, drinking until he blacked out.
“Getting tired of it, aren’t you?”
As soon as he thought of alcohol, an unwelcome voice brushed past his ear—Ryu Su-hyun’s.
“Regretting bringing him into your home?”
The sharp tone left a lingering sting. Inho’s brow creased slightly as he took a step forward. But just as the elevator doors began to close, his body leaned forward instinctively—then recoiled again.
He knew full well that pressing the button would reopen the doors instantly. Still, he didn’t do it. He simply stood there, watching the doors close in slow motion, paralyzed and powerless.
And then, just before the gap fully disappeared, a pale face appeared between the narrowing panels.
It was Haon.
“…Haon-ssi.”
The moment his eyes met those wide, peeking eyes looking in, Inho’s lips moved on their own. At the same time, his hand shot out toward the open button—pure reflex.
His desperate fingertips tapped—tap, tap—on the button in quick succession.
