“Yes. He said he was reorganizing the entire budget to recalculate compensation for all the island residents—not even as a proposal, just announced it like a decree. On top of that, he’s talking about reassessing an already finalized project direction, so the company’s in total chaos. Director Kim, Director Nam, and Director Kwon have all been venting to me non-stop… I was so stunned when I heard it that I came straight to inform you.”
The directors Han Ki-taek mentioned—Kim, Nam, and Kwon—were all founding members of the company and still held powerful executive positions. It wasn’t hard to imagine the kind of conversations they’d had behind closed doors. Nor was it hard to sense the underlying intentions behind their complaints. After all, Chairman Cheon Han-jo had known them far longer than Han Ki-taek had.
Chairman Cheon chuckled as he poured out the remaining half of his cold tea onto the dirt.
“You know what tree I planted myself when I first started working this garden?”
“Sir?”
“That magnolia over there. I planted it ten years ago. Thought it would bloom right away after I moved it, but it made me wait three years. I even thought maybe I’d bought a dud, something already dead. But then one day, out of nowhere, it bloomed so beautifully it took my breath away.”
“Father, don’t you think Tae-seong lacks too much experience? If he makes a mistake on a project this critical—”
Chairman Cheon quietly stroked the branch of the lilac tree he’d just been working on, waiting for Han Ki-taek to finish.
Tae-seong was his grandson and Han Ki-taek’s own son. From a young age, he’d shown remarkable intelligence, taking after his mother—and he had inherited Cheon Han-jo’s boldness and decisiveness too.
But Han Ki-taek considered himself far more suited to run the company than his own son.
“Tae-seong’s a bit of a lone wolf, huh? Must’ve gotten that from his grandfather.”
No matter how much Han Ki-taek raged about company matters, Chairman Cheon simply laughed it off. Whenever someone tried to belittle Tae-seong for being too young, too inexperienced, or too impulsive, the Chairman would defend him, saying it was because he took after his grandfather. Meanwhile, Han Ki-taek could only stew in his frustration, unable to make any headway.
“Besides, shouldn’t you be focused on something more important than the company? Like caring for your wife? Have a little more faith in your son.”
“…Of course. It’s just, the project’s so significant, and I have to think of the company’s future—”
“Tae-seong will take care of the company’s future.”
Han Ki-taek could say no more. From the moment they’d first met, Chairman Cheon had never once seen him as someone to bring into the fold. And yet, here he was again, foolishly overstepping with misplaced expectations. Forcing a smile, Han Ki-taek picked up a glass of cold tea from the butler’s tray.
“You’re right, Father. I’ll focus on caring for Soo-young, and put my trust in Tae-seong to lead the company well.”
Chairman Cheon nodded, smiling in satisfaction.
The moment Han Ki-taek left the mansion grounds, his face twisted like a demon’s. He vowed to himself: When that grandson whom the Chairman trusts so blindly finally fails—that’s when I’ll make my move.
The moment Cheon Soo-young ended up like that, the company had effectively become his. One day, he would make sure the Chairman understood that.
Left alone in the yard, Chairman Cheon lifted his gaze to the room where his daughter Soo-young lay.
Han Ki-taek’s ambition and greed were so blatant that there wasn’t a soul who didn’t see it. He had never given the man an inch, and yet here he was, stretching his legs where there was no room to lie down. It was almost laughable.
“Butler.”
He reached out toward the butler who stood like a shadow off to the side.
“Lock the front gate and scatter salt around the place.”
He nodded mechanically, unfazed by his cold tone—it was nothing new—and headed inside to fetch the salt.
***
“Ugh, salty.”
Salted coffee had become a trendy fad lately. Everyone and their mother was adding ‘salted something’ to their menus, but the owner here clearly had a heavy hand.
Song Jae-hyun grimaced and spit out what he’d sipped. When he looked over at Cheon Tae-seong, who showed not a single change in expression, he shook his head in disbelief. What a relentless bastard.
“You ran away from the hospital saying you were sick of the place, and now you’re back the next day?”
“Ha-jin’s brother’s sick. He’s waiting for emergency surgery.”
“I know, dumbass. News is all over the hospital already.”
Tearing into his bread, Song Jae-hyun muttered with a hint of pity. Said it was probably a struggle just to keep his condition stable, and now the poor kid had complications. Treatment costs would pile up too. What was Ha-jin supposed to do? God always seemed to be cruelest to the kind ones. As he rambled, Tae-seong let out a dry laugh.
“How would you even know if Lee Ha-jin or Lee Yushin are kind people?”
“Ugh, this bread’s salted too. Don’t be such a jerk. If you wanna date Ha-jin, take this chance to score some points. Boost your stats in the VIP ward. Everyone wins.”
“Me… with Ha-jin?”
Humming thoughtfully, Tae-seong’s throat rumbled with amusement, and Song Jae-hyun chuckled like it was his own creative brilliance at work. Then again, he looked slightly annoyed too. Otherwise, what kind of crazy person turns the hospital upside down before dawn?
“Still, Lee Ha-jin’s got a cute side.”
Tae-seong sipped his over-salted coffee.
“…He owes me for stabbing me in the back. There’s stuff I need to figure out too. Long road ahead.”
“At least he’s cute. You? You’re just creepy.”
“Ha-jin’s cute? Where?”
Even as he asked, Tae-seong’s mind was already starting to drift. The only one unaware of that fact… was Tae-seong himself.
***
Two full days passed. After the surgery, Lee Yushin was admitted to a VIP room.
“Once Mr. Lee stabilizes in recovery, we’ll move him up to his room. Please wait here just a bit longer.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Following the staff’s guidance, Ha-jin arrived at Yushin’s hospital room first. Instead of asking questions, he pulled out his phone. The reason his brother had been placed in a room twice the size of their own home didn’t need an explanation.
As the dial tone rang endlessly in his ear, Ha-jin paced circles around the room. Suddenly, the door burst open. His head snapped in that direction.
“Why are you putting him in a room like this?”
“Because if I don’t, you’ll use your brother as an excuse to break the contract and run.”
They spoke almost at the same time.
A brief silence followed, then Cheon Tae-seong stepped further into the room, and behind him came a crowd of people. They weren’t in hospital uniforms, but they were all wearing identical clothing with name tags on their chests.
One, two, three, four, five, six… As Ha-jin scanned the six unfamiliar faces with a puzzled look, Tae-seong added calmly:
“Your brother’s caregivers. All Beta-typed. They’ll work in two-person shifts, covering him 24/7. Exchange contact info with them later. They’re trustworthy, so don’t worry.”
Before Ha-jin could even find the words to respond, the six caregivers gave a brief bow and quietly exited the room like a receding tide.
As if seizing the moment to silence him completely, Tae-seong pressed on.
“The room, the caregivers—everything’s for my sake. I’ll provide everything so you don’t get distracted. Just focus on me. Enough with that nonsense about paying me back. That debt? It’s your shackle. If anyone’s undoing it, it’ll be me.”
With his mind already overwhelmed by the new drug issue, Tae-seong’s efforts to tighten the leash only made Ha-jin bristle. He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his temple with his thumb, feeling a headache coming on.
“First of all, what kind of person doesn’t check in on their sick family just because they’ve got caregivers?”
“There are people like that.”
Ha-jin let out a hollow laugh and waved him off.
“Second, what you need isn’t me—it’s a doctor. You need treatment. I can’t handle your condition. I also need to get tested—”
Tae-seong began closing the distance, one step at a time.
“If my body’s really changed, then I’m basically poison to you. You keep sensing my pheromones when machines can’t even detect mine. And your body’s unwell too.”
“Poison, yeah. But you need money too, don’t you?”
He silenced Ha-jin with that. All the goodwill Tae-seong had shown since last night was shattered with just that one cold line.
“What I need is you, Lee Ha-jin. No one knows my body better than I do. And it was written in the new contract too. You read it and signed it.”
Lee Ha-jin will fully comply with Cheon Tae-seong’s methods of pheromone management.
He will receive Tae-seong’s pheromones daily without fail.
He will trust and follow Tae-seong’s instructions.
The contract is exclusive. He may not take on other work.
Under any circumstances, Tae-seong’s condition care must remain the top priority…
Ha-jin shook his head as each clause came back to him. With every word exchanged, Tae-seong kept stepping closer, while Ha-jin instinctively backed away.
Until at some point… Ha-jin found himself with his back pressed against a wall.
“An Alpha receives pheromone management to avoid ruts… That’s the whole point. Given our current state, I’m not the right fit. What you need is someone to monitor your pheromones—not an Omega you want to mix pheromones with.”
“There are things I want to check through you. You just have to cooperate.”
“I don’t know what exactly you want to check, but what I do know is—I can’t help. Whatever it is, I’ve got nothing to offer.”
“I’ll figure out how.”
Ha-jin’s back hit the cold window with a thud. Tae-seong closed the distance completely, lowered his head without warning—and brushed his tongue across Ha-jin’s lips before pulling back. When Ha-jin looked up, startled, Tae-seong’s expression was slightly twisted with irritation as he looked down at him.
“Anyway, you’re mine. Exclusively. That’s never going to change.”
Staring back at him, Ha-jin felt a vague sense of fear rising in his chest.
What must happen… will happen. Maybe it really was set in stone—that Lee Ha-jin would serve as Cheon Tae-seong’s manager for two years, only to meet his end.
The look on Tae-seong’s face, twisted in frustration like he couldn’t bear it anymore, was pure stubbornness.
Day 3 of Cheon Tae-seong’s rut episode. The third kiss… had just begun.
