As Cheon Tae-seong stepped out of the CEO’s office, Kim Dae-hong and the secretarial team followed behind him. His gaze suddenly swept across the employees’ faces. He had never really thought about it before—how these people stayed behind after working hours, silently waiting for him.
All of this was because of Lee Ha-jin. In his past life, the man had followed him around like a shadow, as if he barely existed. But in this life… he went home.
“Ha, it’s insane what kind of crap can screw a person up…”
Letting out a hollow breath, Cheon Tae-seong stopped abruptly in front of the elevator and turned around.
“Go home. Order snow crabs or something for yourselves.”
“Huh? Sorry—snow crabs?”
Startled by the CEO’s sudden declaration, the staff raised their voices in confusion.
“Cancel everything on the weekend schedule.”
“What? But, sir…”
“And clear out the building in an hour. I want to be alone.”
“…”
“…”
It was the first time they’d ever received such an order. Not even Kim Dae-hong had a response. The secretarial team, who were used to being on standby in shifts even on weekends, couldn’t immediately make sense of Tae-seong’s directive.
“What, got a problem? You don’t wanna go home?”
“No, sir… That’s not it, it’s just…”
Wearing a crooked expression, Cheon Tae-seong got into the elevator and repeatedly pressed the ‘close’ button. Just as the doors were almost shut, he caught a glimpse of his subordinates bowing in a flurry. He let out a sigh that was almost a laugh, tinged with irritation.
The elevator ride up to his penthouse didn’t take even a few minutes. As he passed through the security doors and stepped into the front hall, he stripped off his stifling clothes.
After throwing a fit about wanting to be alone in a thirty-story building, he felt a little more settled. He’d shown his subordinates the full extent of his foul mood, twisted and ugly as it was. What a fine show he’d put on.
“…”
He had been a diligent one.
He’d even agreed to pay him more than in the previous life.
Wasn’t he just shameless?
Song Jae-hyun had been right. This wasn’t his style. Come Monday, he’d prepare the contract. The first step was silencing Lee Ha-jin with an airtight confidentiality clause.
After that, he’d pay the price and get on the operating table to remove the imprinting.
And Lee Ha-jin—he’d be removed from his life, too. Then everything could go back to the way it was.
With that decision made, Cheon Tae-seong headed to the bathroom feeling strangely light. He filled the tub with hot water, as if trying to wash away a stain.
***
On Monday, as Ha-jin stepped through the front door of Tae-seong’s home, he took a deep breath.
[I have an external schedule and will be out of town all weekend.]
He’d tried to drop by briefly on Saturday night, only to receive that reply. His calls had been blatantly ignored. It felt a bit off, but the man had endured ruts without a manager long before they met, so he figured it would be fine.
And yet…
“His pheromones are…”
The air was so thick with pheromones it made him feel like his vision was clouding over.
Every time he entered this domain, he’d felt like he was walking into the den of a giant beast—ever since their first meeting. But this time, it felt more dangerous. He’d encountered many Alphas, but never once had he hesitated at the threshold.
And today, of all days, Kim Dae-hong—who was always waiting outside—was nowhere to be seen. As Ha-jin rode up, he tried to recall which security staff had been on duty, but soon shook his head.
What the hell am I thinking?
The entrance was spotless—no shoes in sight. Ha-jin neatly placed his shoes off to the side and slipped on a pair of guest slippers.
Maybe he should call Kim Dae-hong, just in case?
He fiddled with the phone in his pocket, a strange sense of dread rising in him.
Having worked with Tae-seong for two years, he knew the man well. And he knew—this wasn’t normal. His pheromones had never been like this. The unfamiliarity made his steps falter.
If something had happened… if Tae-seong lost control and tried to pin him down like some other Alphas did—it might actually work out for the best. He could terminate the contract, take the penalty fee, and be done with him for good.
Even thinking it made him feel like a cold-hearted opportunist. Ha-jin gave a bitter chuckle.
As he passed through the spacious living room and headed toward the bedroom, tangled thoughts swirled in his mind. By the time he stood in front of the bedroom door, every muscle in his body was tense. He’d woken up Tae-seong hundreds of times before—this shouldn’t be any different.
Wiping the cold sweat off his palms on his pants, he knocked softly.
“Sir, it’s Lee Ha-jin. I’m coming in.”
Ha-jin opened the bedroom door and took a deep breath.
Cheon Tae-seong lay sprawled on the center of the massive bed, as if dead.
The air was saturated with an overpowering scent, making him seem less like a person and more like a monstrous, blooming flower. With his eyes closed like that, he didn’t seem real at all.
His pale cheeks were flushed red, and his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, glistening with sweat. Ha-jin approached and used a towel to wipe the damp hair clinging to his forehead. Once he got over the stunning beauty of his face, the blazing heat radiating off his skin finally registered.
“Sir…? Wake up.”
He moved on autopilot to take his temperature. 39.7°C. Ha-jin’s voice grew urgent.
“Please, stay with me.”
He quickly scanned the scattered pill wrappers on the nightstand beside the bed. Sliding his hand beneath Tae-seong’s neck to check his pulse, he groped for his phone.
“I must still be dreaming.”
“Sir?”
Startled, Ha-jin dropped the phone. The man’s voice was hoarse—rasping like metal scraping metal. He reached for the phone on the floor, thinking he had to call an ambulance immediately. But before he could, Tae-seong’s hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Ugh!”
There was no time to dodge. He was yanked down, landing face-first onto the bed. Tae-seong straddled him, pinning both shoulders with his full weight. He was disturbingly quick for someone with a fever nearing 40°C.
Heavier than the weight pressing down on his body was the flood of pheromones that followed. What stopped Ha-jin from crying out wasn’t fear—it was the look in Tae-seong’s eyes, fevered and wild, staring down at him with something he couldn’t name.
Tae-seong held down his shoulder with one hand, and with the other, he slowly caressed his neck. He didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers moved—as if confirming something—made Ha-jin instantly recall that night.
“So soft…”
Ha-jin snapped out of it and grabbed Tae-seong’s wrist. His skin was burning hot, veins bulging, muscles beneath like iron.
He didn’t budge despite Ha-jin’s struggling. Beneath him, Ha-jin’s body trembled with fear.
Lost in the fever, Tae-seong gazed down at him. The heat of his skin, the frantic pulse beneath his palm, the moist tension and tremors—it all tickled something deep inside him.
The person beneath him wasn’t a corpse dragged into the depths. He was alive.
“See? I told you it wasn’t you. I said it wasn’t.”
“Please, sir… You’re not thinking straight right now… Your fever—kgh!”
Just the pressure of his fingers started cutting off Ha-jin’s air. Tae-seong’s eyes grew darker as Ha-jin gasped and struggled.
“Ha-jin…”
For some reason, when Ha-jin looked into his face, it brought back memories from before he regressed. The way he said his name—just like back then. The way he looked at him.
Even though his voice was hoarse with fever, that’s how it sounded to Ha-jin.
Just as the grip on his throat tightened, a breath of scorching air washed over his lips.
“Kh… mmph!”
Something soft and burning slipped between his teeth without warning. Tae-seong’s broad chest crashed down onto him, the weight making the mattress sink beneath them. It was dizzying—like falling.
“Mmph! Ngh!”
His lips were bruised by the forceful rubbing. Ha-jin tried to twist away, but he couldn’t escape Tae-seong’s iron grip. He seized Ha-jin’s jaw and tilted his face, sealing their mouths together.
Saliva laced with pheromones mixed into a messy tangle. Eyes wide, Ha-jin stared up at him.
Only after devouring every corner of Ha-jin’s mouth did Tae-seong finally pull back.
“Hah… Hh… You’re not yourself… right now…”
As Ha-jin panted, hazy eyes stared down at him.
Tae-seong’s pupils, glazed with fever, gleamed red in the dim light. His gaze, steeped in lust, roamed from Ha-jin’s forehead to his eyes, nose, and cheeks.
“Don’t… please. Let me go!”
Tae-seong’s fingers stroked Ha-jin’s earlobe, then suddenly clenched tight. “Ngh!” The pain made Ha-jin’s shoulders flinch, and Tae-seong’s brows furrowed in displeasure.
His face closed in again.
“Sir!”
Ha-jin turned his head and flung his arm to the side, blindly grabbing whatever he could. There was no time to consider what it was or what would happen—he just swung with all his strength.
