The weather was clear for the first time in a while. Winter had crept in, and a chill lingered in the morning air, but somehow it felt refreshing. A dull meeting wrapped up quickly, and everything was going smoothly. Could a day like this come again? It was that kind of peaceful day—but Winston was far from well.
“Mr. Campbell, are you alright? Should I call your physician?”
The assistant hesitated for quite a while before speaking, noticing the unusually strong pheromone scent and the deeper furrow etched between his brows. Winston, eyes closed, rubbed his forehead and answered,
“Keep going with the report.”
“……Understood.”
With a less-than-pleased look, the assistant fixed her gaze on the documents and resumed her briefing. Winston tried to focus on her voice, but the headache wouldn’t let up. He’d been suffering from this wretched pain for days now. It had started out faint, gradually building in intensity.
He knew the cause. He hadn’t released his pheromones in far too long.
His limit was creeping up on him. How long can I keep this up? He needed to release them before it led to a serious problem.
“…….A party.”
“Sorry?”
The assistant, standing by after finishing her report, didn’t catch the low murmur and asked again. Winston still didn’t look at her as he spoke.
“Find out if there’s a pheromone party. The sooner the better—tonight would be ideal.”
“Understood.”
Only then did the assistant realize the true reason her boss had seemed off. She quickly left the office. While waiting for her to return with a report, Winston had to swallow a fistful of pills to dull the pain.
Fuck.
The curse slipped out on its own. When the pheromones built up, even old scars on his back would start to ache—like they were testing how far Winston could be pushed.
But enduring it this long was rare. In recent years, he’d been regularly releasing pheromones, so it had been a while since he’d felt this kind of pain. And now, he was at his breaking point.
“Mr. Campbell, I’ve located a pheromone party currently underway. Shall I take you there now?”
At that, Winston checked the time. There were still hours left before the end of the workday, but if he went to the pheromone party, there was no telling when—or if—he’d return home. If he went into rut and lost consciousness, he might not make it back at all today.
His expression turned grave as he fell deep into thought, then pulled out his phone.
“Get everything ready. We’re going now.”
“Understood.”
As his assistant turned to leave, Winston made a call to the butler.
“Yes, Mr. Campbell.”
“What’s Yu-jin doing?”
The butler replied in his usual composed tone, the answer coming immediately.
“He’s in the study. Lately, he seems to spend most of his time there reading.”
Winston didn’t respond right away. He needed to form a thought, but his mind wasn’t functioning properly. As the silence dragged on, the butler hesitated for a moment. He was about to mention that Charlotte was scheduled to visit, but Winston spoke first.
“I’m going to a party today. Let Yu-jin know however you see fit.”
Not that he’d be waiting for me anyway.
The disdain Yu-jin felt for him was written all over his face. It was painfully obvious. But what did it matter? Winston had gotten his hands on him—that was enough. That alone was more than enough.
“Understood. Please take care, sir.”
The butler didn’t feel the need to say anything further. His master’s condition came first. Charlotte stopping by for tea wasn’t something Winston urgently needed to know.
After ending the call, Winston pressed his fingers to his temple. A knock followed, and the assistant stepped in. Watching her boss closely, she spoke with caution.
“The car is ready, Mr. Campbell. It’s waiting downstairs.”
Winston rose without a word, slipping on his suit jacket and moving toward the door. Fucking pheromones. Gritting his teeth, he strode down the corridor with wide, purposeful steps, and suddenly his father came to mind.
Harold would constantly flit from one party to another, draining his pheromones. Sometimes, he’d even buy multiple Omegas and spend the night in debauchery—just like many other Extreme Alphas. He lived and died as a slave to his pheromones, finding release only in death.
Was that an inevitable choice? Or was it what Harold had wanted?
Winston would never know. Harold was already gone.
Why. Why now, of all times.
In the rapidly descending elevator, Winston clenched his brow and shut his eyes. Why were these memories rushing back now? And then, in stark clarity, he saw Yu-jin’s face—the way he had smiled from within Harold’s arms. The elevator bell rang, pulling him from the thought, and the doors slid open.
Winston stepped out with long strides and headed straight for the waiting car.
What mattered was the present. Harold was dead. Winston was alive.
As the car glided forward in smooth motion, Winston thought to himself: that kind of thing will never happen again. There was no one left in this world brazen enough to try to steal Yu-jin from him.
The Campbell family was his. Yu-jin, too, was his.
***
“He might not come home tonight?”
Yu-jin repeated what the butler had just said. The butler replied with a detached tone.
“He said work is quite hectic. There’s a meeting going late into the night… He suggested you get some rest without waiting up.”
“I see.”
It was an unremarkable message. Yu-jin hadn’t been waiting for Winston anyway, so it didn’t stir any sense of disappointment or concern. If anything, he felt a quiet relief. It meant he could relax tonight. And while that feeling showed clearly on his face, the butler didn’t comment on it.
Just then, a familiar car sped through the garden and came into view beyond the window. It was Charlotte’s car. Sitting on the floor, Yu-jin turned to Angela, who had been playing dolls with him.
“Angie, get up. Charlotte’s here. Let’s go greet her together.”
Taking the girl’s hand without hesitation, Yu-jin left the room with her. They had only made it halfway down the stairs when the front door opened and Charlotte stepped inside. Yu-jin quickly scooped the child into his arms and nearly ran toward her.
“Welcome, Charlotte.”
Yu-jin smiled warmly, catching his breath.
“Y-Yes… Hello, Yu-jin.”
Charlotte returned the greeting, but her face was still pale—worse than usual, even. She didn’t look well at all.
Did something happen?
Yu-jin felt a flicker of concern but didn’t dare ask outright. One mistake was enough. Charlotte had lashed out so fiercely last time—she must have had a reason for coming to see him now. That’s where his focus needed to be.
Angela glanced back and forth between the adults, then spoke at just the right moment.
“Hello, Charlotte.”
“A-Ah… Yes, Angie.”
As the girl standing beside him offered a greeting, a faint smile appeared on Charlotte’s face. Yu-jin was relieved to see some of her tension finally ease and gently guided her toward the tearoom he had prepared in advance.
“I’ve made rose tea, but if you’d prefer something else…”
“No, it’s fine. That’s perfect.”
Charlotte quickly shook her head, cutting him off. Watching how visibly on edge she remained, Yu-jin tried to ease the tension by chattering aimlessly. He spoke about the rose tea, the pastries that accompanied it, the mischief Angela had gotten up to the day before—anything that might lighten the mood.
But all he got in return was a litany of dull, flat responses: “Yes.” “No.” “I see.”
In the end, Yu-jin grew tired before she did.
“What is it you wanted to talk about?”
Deciding there was no point dragging things out, he asked her directly. Charlotte jolted as if struck by lightning. Her face turned a deathly pale, and she began trembling uncontrollably. Seeing her like that filled Yu-jin with a mix of guilt and frustration.
If that’s just how she is, there’s no helping it.
He calmed himself and tried to make things a little easier for her, bringing up the topic first. But it still wasn’t enough. She fidgeted helplessly, breaking into a cold sweat.
Yu-jin stole a glance at the child.
“Angie, would you mind giving us a moment? I think Charlotte wants to tell me a secret.”
At his gentle coaxing, Angela blinked, then nodded. She’d just finished her cake, so she politely excused herself and trotted out of the tearoom.
Now alone, Yu-jin turned to Charlotte once more.
“Go ahead. Do you need a little more time?”
Charlotte, still shaking, finally lifted her head. The moment her eyes met Yu-jin’s, her terrified gaze wavered violently.
“…I’m sorry.”
Her voice was so faint, Yu-jin didn’t catch it at first. He just blinked at her, puzzled—until suddenly, Charlotte shot to her feet and swung something at him.
“…Ah!”
Yu-jin let out a startled gasp, a short cry escaping his lips.
A split second later, he saw red—blood spurting before his eyes.
The realization came a beat too late.
Wait… is that my blood?
His mind struggled to grasp the situation. It didn’t make sense. His thoughts felt sluggish, like he was trapped in a dream. But as his blurred vision refocused, he saw Charlotte before him, swinging a knife in his direction.
A small blade, easily hidden in one’s clothes—yet sharp enough to be a lethal weapon.
His dazed mind barely had time to process the image before him, as if everything had slowed to a crawl. The sight of her advancing, the blade in her hand, loomed larger and larger in his vision.
Then—
“Ugh…!”
A sharp, searing pain exploded in his chest. His legs gave out beneath him, and Yu-jin collapsed to the floor.
