And then his thoughts turned to pheromones. He wondered if Ethan didn’t like the scent of Alexander’s pheromones lingering on his body. But even as the thought crossed his mind, Yeon Yiseo quickly shook his head. Ethan had no reason—none at all—to feel that way.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find an answer, and that frustration weighed on him. But there was nothing Yeon Yiseo could actually do.
The idea that he’d somehow fallen out of favor felt strange, even absurd—but it was the only way to explain Ethan’s behavior.
***
And as time passed, Yeon Yiseo’s suspicions gradually solidified into certainty.
Ethan had practically excluded him from work. He still assigned Yeon Yiseo document-related tasks, but for anything involving face-to-face interaction or accompanying him anywhere, he always pointed to Natalie instead.
As a result, nearly all paperwork duties fell on Yeon Yiseo’s shoulders.
Even Natalie seemed confused by Ethan’s behavior. She’d asked him if something had happened between them, clearly puzzled, but Yeon Yiseo could only shrug.
He wanted to say, If I did something wrong, please tell me. But right now, he didn’t even have a clue.
And it wasn’t like he could barge into the CEO’s office and demand an explanation.
If he were Seo Eunwoo—if he were the Seo Eunwoo from Don’t Look for the Sickly Villain—he probably would have marched in there and said something. “What the hell’s your problem? Why are you ignoring me?”
That scene was actually an event in the game—one where Ethan was visibly shaken and caught off guard.
But Yeon Yiseo wasn’t Seo Eunwoo.
So all he could do was cradle his head and stew in silent agony.
Just a lowly secretary like him—could he really storm into the CEO’s office yelling, “Why are you treating me like this?!” It was a move that only made sense in a game. And only because it was Seo Eunwoo who did it.
If only things worked like a game. If he had a status window pop up, things would’ve been so much easier. At least then, he wouldn’t be stuck trying to navigate this blind.
Right now, it felt like he was walking a tightrope, wobbling with every step.
Still, if a glowing status window suddenly appeared in the air in real life, he probably would’ve lost his mind.
“……Haa.”
Yeon Yiseo let out a long sigh.
Just getting through his mounting workload was hard enough. Add the emotional rollercoaster on top of that, and it would be weird not to be stressed out.
Maybe that’s why.
It hadn’t been that long since Alexander last supplied him with pheromones, but his condition had already started to deteriorate.
The imbalance had come on faster than before.
No matter how much water he drank, a nagging thirst refused to go away.
He knew the reason.
His body was craving an Alpha’s pheromones. A specific Alpha’s pheromones.
Yeon Yiseo knew it instinctively—the one his body wanted was Alexander.
He tried to endure it, but once the headache started, it dragged on for two days straight, growing more intense by the hour.
Even strong painkillers did nothing.
In the end, Yeon Yiseo hesitated—but reached out to Alexander.
—Yes, Yeon Yiseo.
Alexander must’ve recognized his number—he addressed him by name right away.
Hearing that voice instantly melted the tension from his body.
They hadn’t met many times, but the memories he had with Alexander were pleasant ones. That’s probably why his body reacted instinctively.
“Hello, CEO. I’m sorry for calling out of the blue like this. Would you happen to have time today?”
—I’m free. I’ll have a car ready to meet you when you’re off work.
Even though he hadn’t said it directly, Alexander seemed to understand what he was asking.
When he immediately agreed and offered to send a car, Yeon Yiseo panicked.
“N-No, that’s really not necessary… I can go myself.”
He wasn’t just being polite—he genuinely meant it.
Having a car sent for him felt a bit too much.
Alexander wasn’t someone with time to spare—he was just as busy as anyone else, if not more.
It felt like too much to accept both his time and his personal driver.
—I’d say it’s fine, but I know you’ll refuse anyway. Understood. Please come safely.
“Thank you. I’ll see you later then.”
When the call ended, a weight seemed to lift off his shoulders.
Knowing he’d get to see Alexander after work gave him a bit of strength to push through the day.
And thankfully, things went smoothly—he’d be able to leave at a decent time.
Still, it was later than most of the regular employees.
After a quick glance at Natalie’s now-empty desk, Yeon Yiseo headed into the CEO’s office to say goodbye.
“Sir.”
When Yeon Yiseo called him, Ethan shot him a sidelong glance.
He seemed to be waiting for whatever came next, so Yeon Yiseo spoke quickly.
“I’m heading out now.”
“……”
Not even the usual curt reply came.
Ethan simply stared at him, silent.
The air felt suffocating, heavy against his shoulders.
“That’s it?”
“Pardon?”
Ethan’s incredulous question caught him off guard.
“Come in.”
“…Yes, sir.”
At Ethan’s command, Yeon Yiseo closed the door behind him.
It felt like he might finally get an answer to Ethan’s strange behavior.
He couldn’t miss a chance like this.
So he obeyed—but something about the whole thing felt off.
Like a cold hand yanking the back of his neck.
Yeon Yiseo thought Ethan would get straight to the point.
But even after calling him in, Ethan just stared at him in silence.
And that gaze—it felt like it could cut through skin.
There was definitely something.
Yeon Yiseo wanted to know what it was. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure he did.
The promise he’d made with Alexander kept popping into his head.
He didn’t want to be too late.
At least he’d refused the car—that might be the only small relief.
If Ethan was holding him back like this, it meant he had something to say.
But Yeon Yiseo couldn’t wait forever.
“Sir.”
“Yeon Yiseo.”
Their voices overlapped.
Yeon Yiseo took that as a sign Ethan was finally ready to speak.
“Yes?” he answered, tuning in to what would come next.
“What have you been thinking all this time?”
The question caught him completely off guard.
“Thinking…?”
The moment he heard “all this time,” Yeon Yiseo realized it—Ethan had intentionally excluded him from work.
He’d suspected as much, but hearing it directly from Ethan’s mouth hit differently.
It was disorienting.
He hadn’t done anything wrong—or at least, he hadn’t meant to.
Could he have made a mistake without realizing it?
Still, someone like Ethan—would he really let personal feelings affect his professional decisions?
This was the CEO of Dymine.
No one understood the ripple effect of every word, action, and choice better than him.
Ethan rose from his seat and walked toward Yeon Yiseo.
He was already a big man, but now, approaching without expression, he looked terrifying.
Yeon Yiseo was scared—but he had nowhere to run.
So he just stood there and watched him come closer.
“You really didn’t think anything?”
“Sir, I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”
“Why? There’s no way you didn’t notice.”
No. No way. This can’t be happening.
“Sir…”
“It didn’t bother you at all?”
Yeon Yiseo was speechless.
The question was so unexpected, he didn’t even know how to respond.
He’d been dragged in here without warning and asked this? What was he supposed to say?
“I thought you’d at least ask me why. But I guess I expected too much.”
“No, that’s… That’s not what I meant.”
Yeon Yiseo had no idea what was going on.
It almost felt like a scene from the game.
One where Seo Eunwoo confronted Ethan about being ignored.
But this wasn’t the game.
This was him, Yeon Yiseo.
And it was happening to him.
The chill ran down his spine.
“Why haven’t you asked me what’s going on?”
“…Sir…?”
Ethan’s hand landed on his shoulder.
“Is it really that easy for you to be unaffected by what I do?”
Right now, Ethan looked like a child sulking for being ignored.
Except Ethan wasn’t a child.
“P-Please calm down, sir.”
The presence of a man larger than a walk-in freezer was not easy to handle.
Yeon Yiseo instinctively took a step back.
But that seemed to provoke something in Ethan.
His large hand suddenly gripped Yeon Yiseo’s arm—tight.
“I am calm.”
But he absolutely did not seem calm.
Pain shot through Yeon Yiseo’s arm from the crushing grip.
He winced, but Ethan didn’t loosen his hold.
This wasn’t the Ethan he knew.
It was like he’d lost all composure.
