The arranged marriage with Seosung had been abruptly decided a month ago, when Seo Ihyeon returned from the United States and took his seat as Executive Director. It was certain he had entered the country specifically for the marriage. There had reportedly been internal opposition within Seosung over Beomwook’s Beta trait, but the marriage had been pushed through in the end. It meant that the question of an heir was not considered more important than the merger of the two companies. After all, having children didn’t strictly require the two of them.
“…There isn’t much time.”
Beomwook said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. Yeonjun seemed to mutter something in complaint, but it didn’t reach Beomwook’s ears.
What would happen if Seo Ihyeon found out about this? Would he be angry? Or would he try to have him killed? He would have caught on long ago that a scheme was being planned. Having figured it out early on, he’d deliberately waited until the wedding day itself to make his move — intending to tie Beomwook’s hands and feet completely.
But even that brilliant Seo Ihyeon couldn’t have anticipated this. Beomwook looked steadily at the man before him. Something that had to be done one way or another. He was about to walk willingly into a fire he could no longer control. A wry, self-mocking smile spread across Beomwook’s face.
“…I really will just stand there and keep my mouth shut. Okay?”
And alongside this complete stranger of an alpha — considerably younger than him, at that.
Yeonjun’s voice, sounding slightly lighter than before, echoed around them. Beomwook gave a slow nod. He — Baek Yeonjun — had made up his mind to help break off the engagement.
“I’m sorry. Baek Yeonjun. I’ll make sure to repay—”
“No, the compensation goes without saying.”
He cut across Beomwook’s words. His voice carried clear irritation. Beomwook had been about to lift his bowed head to read Yeonjun’s expression. But before he could, pale fingers touched beneath his chin. Yeonjun’s hand.
“Can you stop saying sorry?”
Yeonjun was looking down at him with a sullen expression. Beomwook found himself nodding his head up and down without thinking. At Yeonjun’s words telling him not to apologize, his throat tightened as though shackled. Beomwook’s eyes moved, searching for what to say next.
Bang—!
Just then. With a sudden crash, the bathroom door flew open. A large-built man, easily two meters tall, stood blocking the doorway. Yeonjun instinctively pressed his nose and mouth shut against the sharp rush of pheromones.
“…F***, Do Beomwook, you little—!”
Beomwook looked up at the hulking man with a composed face.
It was Do Beomryeol — Beomwook’s older brother — making his entrance.
*
Having been dragged out of the bathroom in no uncertain terms, Yeonjun was now inside the Bridal Party Waiting Room alongside Beomwook. Could a scene like this come along again in a lifetime? Yeonjun swallowed and quietly surveyed his surroundings. For a bridal waiting room, it was far too grim and unsettling.
“So this guy is supposed to be our President’s little brother’s lover, is that what they’re saying?”
“Well, well — our Executive Director. Impressive, really. One look and you can tell, yeah? Doesn’t look like the ink’s even dry on him yet. Young guys are something else in terms of nerve, I’ll give him that. Am I wrong?”
The large-built men known as enforcers packed tightly around Yeonjun and Beomwook. The men in black suits whispered toward Yeonjun, who stood there feeling like a convicted man. They seemed to be trying not to be heard — but sadly, every word they said lodged itself in Yeonjun like a thorn.
“Executive Director, what on earth is—”
The man standing directly beside Beomwook, having gone pale as a sheet, opened his mouth. Relatively tall and slim, he appeared older than Beomwook. Beomwook glanced at him and gave a brief, slight bow of his head. Yeonjun, feeling like an involuntary criminal himself, also dropped his head deep. Prickling stares poured in from every direction.
For twenty million won worth of humiliation, is this a good deal or a bad one? For now, it just felt miserable. Why did I say yes. I’ll make it out alive, at least. Yeonjun steeled himself, doing his best to avoid the gazes fixed on him.
Just then, Do Beomryeol — who had shoved Yeonjun and Beomwook into the waiting room and vanished — opened the door.
“…President!”
The slightly restless atmosphere froze over in an instant. The room that had been thick with dialect and profanity went silent as though muted.
“Hyung.”
It was Do Beomwook who spoke first into the heavy stillness. Yeonjun, head bowed quietly where he stood pressed close at Beomwook’s side, found himself gripping Beomwook’s hand tight without thinking.
A cold, rigid hand — stiff with tension. It had been Yeonjun who grabbed Beomwook’s hand out of his own flustered panic, but somehow Beomwook’s hand was even more frozen than his own. For a moment Beomwook stiffened as though startled. But he didn’t shake Yeonjun’s hand off — he simply left his arm still.
“Executive Director Do. If there was someone you were seeing, you should have said…f***. Something.”
Do Beomryeol’s voice, unmistakably thick with suppressed fury, settled at an eerily flat, low pitch that raised goosebumps.
Yeonjun was an alpha too — but he got the distinct sense that whatever this man in front of him was radiating was something he couldn’t hold a candle to. The pheromones weren’t actively releasing, but the atmosphere was so utterly overwhelming that his expression crumpled on its own. It was the kind of thing that could bruise an alpha’s pride, but Yeonjun had no energy to spare for pride right now.
Yeonjun responded in kind, threading his fingers through Beomwook’s hand — something close to interlacing them. The cold, hardened surface of Beomwook’s palm pressed against his. Do Beomwook. This man is unbelievably tense too. Yeonjun felt a small wave of relief and tightened his grip on their entwined hands.
“I have nothing to say.”
“I’ll sort things out with Executive Director Seo on my end. You hear me? Today’s wedding is happening. You know the ceremony is an hour away? F***. I won’t say much. It’s an order.”
Do Beomryeol let out a long sigh, his brow creasing deeply. “Ha, f**….”*
His gaze dropped lower, and as if he’d seen something he wished he hadn’t, he spat out a double expletive.
“No.”
“…What?”
“I can’t. This wedding.”
Beomwook’s voice followed — unhesitating. Yeonjun, feeling even more tense than before, squeezed down on the clasped hand.
What kind of story is behind all this? There wasn’t a person in the country who didn’t know BS or Seosung. Arranged marriages among conglomerates were treated as a matter of course in that world — it was simply far removed from the ordinary life Yeonjun had been living. Yeonjun glanced briefly at Beomwook and pressed his lips shut.
He was trembling. Come to think of it — even with his hand held tightly, that hand, cold as a sheet of ice, showed no sign of warming.
He didn’t know the specifics, but he could tell how desperately Do Beomwook wanted this engagement broken off. From the moment he had approached Yeonjun with that rigid expression, Beomwook had already steeled himself for a choice with no going back.
“F***. Do Beomwook, you little — do you actually want to die?”
Do Beomryeol’s face flushed as he finally lost his grip on his temper, and uncontrolled pheromones burst from him. Cold, deathly silence hung in the air. Ugh — ngh. Yeonjun and the other alphas present let out short, involuntary sounds of pain. Do Beomryeol paid it no mind and slowly advanced on Beomwook. The crushing pressure brought with it a wave of sharp, intense pain.
“…I have nothing to say. The merger will proceed without issue.”
Through his furrowed brow, Yeonjun confirmed that Beomwook’s expression remained completely unmoved. Being subjected to another alpha’s pheromones was taxing on its own, but when the compatibility was poor, it could bring on physical symptoms — like a splitting headache. The growing ache in his head confirmed that his and Do Beomryeol’s compatibility was indeed terrible. He bit back the curse trying to force its way between his teeth. Yeonjun raised his head, letting his discomfort show plainly on his face.
“F***. Of all the people to bring home, an alpha? The Seosung chairman’s opposition, everything Seo Ihyeon went through to make this happen — if you didn’t want to get married, you should’ve pulled out from the start! Do Beomwook, what are you going to do about this?! You’re going to have to take f***ing responsibility!”
Do Beomryeol trembled as he looked Yeonjun up and down. Was it the power of twenty million won? Or was it because he could feel the man beside him trembling, almost imperceptibly? From somewhere unknown, a surge of confidence rose in Yeonjun — and he didn’t look away. He held that gaze head on.
“It was never a marriage I agreed to in the first place. …The damage can be kept to a minimum—”
“F***! Kept to a minimum?! Do you know how hard it was to get this far, with everyone running their mouths because you’re neither alpha nor omega?! Executive Director Do, you little — even if you were going to do something out of character, you should’ve f***ing waited until after the wedding!”
Beomwook bowed his head again. It was a decisive gesture that left no room for further words. “F**, this little—!!”* A roar of furious profanity erupted from Do Beomryeol. Yeonjun was nearly at his limit — the crushing headache had grown close to unbearable.
Crack—! In an instant, with a vicious sound of impact, Beomwook’s head snapped to one side.
There had been no time to block it, no time to resist. H — hyung…! Executive Director! Startled voices called out to Do Beomwook, but sensing the atmosphere, they died down just as quickly. Only Do Beomryeol’s ragged breathing filled the room. At the act of violence that had happened right beside him, Yeonjun stood frozen for a moment, staring only at Beomwook’s face — turned to the side.
“Huu…, f***, whatever hyung does to me — I still can’t go through with this wedding. I won’t! I’ve told you so many times that this is a marriage that makes no sense!”
“You — you crazy little—!”
