Even after hearing Cheon Tae-seong’s words, Ha-jin hesitated. Why was that? Because it felt like there was still a bit of leeway.
Even though Tae-seong’s eyes were firm as he pointed to the bathroom, it felt like if Ha-jin pushed just once more, the man might actually give in.
And the fact that he was even having thoughts like that shocked him.
It had to be the constant kissing—Tae-seong kept messing with his head, and now his mind was starting to unravel.
“…All right. I’ll—I’ll go wash up.”
“Good boy.”
Ha-jin placed the business card he’d been holding on the desk and practically fled the study. Even the way “go wash up” sounded was enough to mess with his head.
Once Ha-jin had stepped out, Cheon Tae-seong picked up the business card left behind—Kang Sung-oh’s. It carried the unmistakable trace of an Alpha’s pheromones, clinging to it like fingerprints.
Whether it was Alpha or Omega, Tae-seong had always instinctively disliked strong pheromones.
“……”
But this kind of discomfort… this was a first.
Holding the foul-smelling card beneath his nose, Tae-seong deliberately took a deep breath.
The scent was so intense it felt as if the card had taken on a slimy texture—like the pheromones had substance. Nausea surged up his throat instantly.
Just as he was about to rip the card away in disgust, a faint wisp of Ha-jin’s scent slipped through the bitterness and brushed against his nose.
In that instant, the vague discomfort took form—growing larger, giving it weight and shape.
An intrusive, grotesque image bloomed in his mind.
An Alpha he’d never seen before—this man called Kang Sung-oh—burying his face into Ha-jin’s scent.
Torturing him to extract the barest trace of Omega pheromones.
A shadowed figure—big and heavy—loomed over Ha-jin, pinning him down. One large hand pressed against his chest, holding him still, while the other slid lower.
Between pale, slender legs, he gripped Ha-jin’s unnaturally beautiful cock—tight enough to make it look like it might burst, then softly coaxing until it stood upright.
With greedy fingers, he twisted the pink-tipped shaft, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slit, as if he believed doing so would make the scent grow stronger.
Sticky precum beaded out, and he spread it around, rubbing until the swollen head deepened in color.
Unable to resist anymore, he wrapped his mouth around it—and Ha-jin let out a sound he’d never made before.
The hallucination ended in a flash—Tae-seong suddenly crumpled the card violently in his hand.
“…Shit.”
The Alpha pressing down on Ha-jin in that twisted fantasy—
Was himself.
The Alpha pheromones that should have been mingled with Ha-jin’s… his instincts had automatically assumed they were his own, creating that grotesque illusion.
His brain wasn’t the only part reacting too fast—his lower half was already burning up.
The damp heat gathering in his pants made it hard to think.
***
Meanwhile, Ha-jin found himself in a bit of a predicament after finishing his shower.
In his rush, he’d run into a random bathroom and cleaned up—only to realize there was no bathrobe waiting for him.
“…Well, the CEO walks around naked anyway.”
It should be fine, right?
He tried to reason with himself, cracking the bathroom door open slightly. A towel was wrapped around his waist, just barely covering the essentials.
“CEO? You’re still in the study, right?”
Peeking out, he called to Tae-seong in a whisper, barely louder than a mosquito.
The house was so big, there was no way his voice would carry. But just to be sure, he called out again. Twice.
“CEO? CEO—?”
Since there was no response from the ever-alert man, Ha-jin figured he was probably still in the study with the door closed.
“…Ugh. I really am missing a screw.”
Ha-jin sighed, scolding himself. Putting his old clothes back on would defeat the purpose of showering, and he didn’t see any better options.
He should have grabbed clean clothes beforehand. But staying trapped in the bathroom until Tae-seong came looking for him was even worse.
Growing more anxious, Ha-jin opened the door and tiptoed out.
Maybe another bathroom had a robe. He could throw it on and then ask Tae-seong to lend him some clothes.
Besides, this wing was on the opposite side of the study—he shouldn’t bump into anyone.
Except fate had other plans.
“Why are you out here like that?”
That low, calm voice came from directly behind him.
Ha-jin froze where he stood.
Clutching the towel tighter around his waist, he slowly turned—and found Cheon Tae-seong standing there, eyes locked directly on him.
Tae-seong’s gaze, filled with surprise and something else, was fixed firmly on his body.
“I-I just… There wasn’t a robe, so… I was going to check another bathroom…”
Blushing furiously, Ha-jin stumbled through the excuse. Tae-seong, meanwhile, stood silent, as if momentarily speechless.
His gaze slowly traveled down Ha-jin’s body, and despite already being naked, Ha-jin felt even more exposed.
Because he was naked.
A twitch at the corner of Tae-seong’s lips.
“Ah… a robe. So you needed a robe, huh.”
Ahem—he cleared his throat, but his eyes gleamed with mischief and something harder to read.
Then, without a word, he took a long stride forward. Ha-jin flinched—only to realize Tae-seong had simply walked past him.
Heading straight to the dressing room, the man returned with a set of casual clothes and fresh underwear, which he held out.
“This is probably better than a robe, don’t you think?”
“…Thanks.”
Ha-jin accepted the clothes awkwardly and shuffled off. Tae-seong’s eyes followed him the entire way, making him retreat into a guest room in reverse.
Only once the door was shut did he finally exhale.
As expected, the clothes were far too large for him.
Ha-jin sighed, rolling up the sleeves and pant legs multiple times.
Even though the oversized shoulders looked ridiculous, there was no helping it—they needed to talk.
When Ha-jin returned to the study, he hovered awkwardly for a moment.
Tae-seong, unchanged from before, sat at a small sofa table by the window.
A pot of warm tea and a plate of fruit had been laid out—when, he had no idea—and the lush rooftop garden visible through the glass gave the whole scene an air of elegant leisure.
Tae-seong gestured to the seat across from him, silently inviting him to sit.
“…Doesn’t quite fit, huh.”
Noticing how Ha-jin kept pushing up his sleeves while holding the mug, Tae-seong smiled faintly.
Ha-jin ignored the teasing and took a sip of the hot tea. The awkward tension still lingered, but the warmth in his belly helped calm him down.
“Did you look at the card earlier?”
“I saw the fruit too. Why the hell did you even bring something covered in Alpha pheromones?”
“The fruit didn’t do anything wrong. I could’ve just washed it. You didn’t throw it out, did you?”
Instead of answering, Tae-seong silently pushed over a plate of neatly sliced mango.
Then, he continued.
“Kang Sung-oh isn’t from my mother’s side. He’s not part of Chunwoo Group, either. My mother….”
Ha-jin, already halfway expecting this, picked up a piece of mango and waited.
“…Forget it. Just don’t trust him. He’s a con artist, plain and simple. I’ll handle it, so there’s no need for you to worry about it.”
“Figured as much. He was seriously suspicious.”
Ha-jin clenched his fists tightly, looking frustrated.
“Want me to slice more mango?”
“But, CEO, about that Kang Sung-oh guy. And the madam. I think I should meet them.”
Tae-seong had been halfway out of his seat to get more fruit—but froze.
“…Why?”
Ha-jin looked up at him with a face that said, Isn’t it obvious?
“You said he doesn’t exist in the company, right? But he knew way too much about Yushin to be just some random scammer. How’d he know so much about the VIP ward, for one thing?”
“He probably had an inside source. Must’ve had someone helping him on the inside.”
“Exactly. And doesn’t it bother you—someone you’ve never even met knowing all this stuff about you? Doesn’t that creep you out?”
Ha-jin couldn’t bring himself to tell Tae-seong that they were trying to harm him.
After all, in his previous life, Ha-jin had once been on that side too.
He had to fix what he helped break. And if he wanted to put the past to rest, it had to be him who untangled the threads.
“They clearly approached thinking they were close to you. And since I gave him my card as your manager, he’ll probably contact me. He asked me not to tell you, and I agreed.”
…Though I broke that promise.
Ha-jin shrugged, completely unfazed. There wasn’t a trace of fear or anxiety on his face.
For some reason, looking into Ha-jin’s clear black eyes, Tae-seong thought of a tomcat he used to see as a child.
It lived in the countryside near his grandfather’s vacation home—a brave tricolor cat that patrolled the village every dawn to keep the others in line.
It had been the biggest in its group. And the first to die, mauled by a wild dog.
Ha-jin, eyes sharp and resolute, finished.
“He asked to meet me, so I’ll go. I’ll hear what he wants.”
Tae-seong’s gaze shifted, something unreadable flickering within.
He had wanted Ha-jin to be entirely focused on him. To pour all his heart and loyalty into him. But… not like this.
Maybe even before the regression, what he’d truly wanted from Ha-jin had never been just blind loyalty.
“……”
He started to realize—vaguely—that his own feelings might be taking a different shape than he thought. And so, for once, he couldn’t speak. Because Ha-jin was right.
If they wanted to catch the people who’d once tried to bring him down, they had to do this.
Ha-jin was the one who could pick up the trail—all the clues had vanished after the regression, and this might be their only chance.
Logic said this was the right path. But his Alpha instincts were screaming no.
