“Saying I’m reconsidering the contract doesn’t mean I want to end things completely. I’m proposing a trial period. Go ahead and try your best to win me over.”
Hearing the word win me over in this context felt strange and oddly out of place. Yuhyeon simply nodded quickly and said nothing more. He had told an outrageous lie, so whatever came next was his to bear. His only concern was that he was hopelessly clueless when it came to that sort of thing. Worry crept in over whether he’d even be able to play the role properly.
What matters most is the relationship between me and the President….
Whether or not his memory returned, Yuhyeon now had a plan he absolutely had to see through to success. Specifically — before Seongjun’s memories came back, Yuhyeon needed to become someone precious to him. Only then could he move beyond being a contract fiancé, advance further, and turn his miserable life around.
The outcome of a gamble is always one of two things: success or failure, nothing else. He had chosen to entangle himself with Chae Seongjun using the engagement as a tool, so regardless of it being a contract, Yuhyeon would officially carry the title of fiancé. He would have to shoulder the responsibility that came with it — which meant it was only natural that the time he spent with Seongjun in private would grow longer. And besides, the more often two people met face to face and built memories together, the more easily affection was bound to blossom. Human feelings were complicated, yet surprisingly simple at the same time. Brimming with baseless confidence, Yuhyeon worked diligently to refine his thoughts.
Just as Seongjun had said — while playing the role of his contract fiancé, Yuhyeon would passionately work to win him over. That was the plan for achieving his ultimate goal.
If I fail, I’ll get sued for fraud.
If things progressed between them while they stayed together, maybe he’d be forgiven even if Seongjun’s memories did return. It was a rather shameless thing to think, but Seongjun had once told him he wanted a contract fiancé — so if he used that as an excuse, the chances of being forgiven would be that much higher.
It had started as a haphazard scheme, yet it was taking on a surprisingly clear shape. Yuhyeon told himself to try living a little more shamelessly. The landlady’s advice about seizing opportunities when they came probably hadn’t been meant as encouragement to go after someone else’s wealth — but here he was.
Money.
The reality that had clung to his ankles and dragged him down had ultimately pushed him to an extreme. Even if the road ahead wasn’t smooth, as long as the outcome was good, it didn’t matter. He would make himself not just a contract fiancé to the wealthy Seongjun, but without fail, a real one.
Of course, there was no guarantee the plan would end well — so making off with a reasonable portion of his assets and running wasn’t a bad option either. He could always disappear somewhere deep in the mountains or out in the countryside. Come to think of it, holing up somewhere in the hills where even cell signals couldn’t reach seemed like the best plan. Yuhyeon hadn’t yet noticed that his thoughts were steadily spiraling toward catastrophe.
The face that had been lost in fantasies of growing close to Seongjun — daydreaming about a successful gamble — slowly hardened. If there was success, there was failure. If he got caught in a lie early on, there would be no way out.
…Is running away the answer for that scenario too.
If Seongjun reported him, he’d be wanted for fraud — so a flimsy plan to just flee wouldn’t cut it.
“It looks like it’s starting to rain.”
Seongjun approached Yuhyeon, who had been running through scenario after scenario in his head. The man slipped off the jacket he was wearing and draped it over Yuhyeon’s shoulders. A rough pheromone lingered beneath the scent of cigarettes — dense and potent enough for Yuhyeon, an extreme-heat omega, to detect it clearly.
“Let’s talk properly tomorrow. More importantly, there’s something I need to give you.”
“Your phone?”
“Yes. As it happens, I have quite a few phones registered under my name just sitting idle. Take whichever model you like.”
“You’re telling me to use a phone registered under your name?”
Yuhyeon’s eyes went wide as his voice pitched upward at the end. Seongjun tilted his chin.
“You’re my fiancée, aren’t you. Is there a problem with that?”
“Fiancée… not fiancée, contract fiancé….”
“It’s the same thing.”
“…It’s not.”
The thought of using a phone registered under someone else’s name instead of her own left a vaguely uncomfortable feeling. He very much wanted to argue back, but afraid Seongjun might grow suspicious about the nature of their contract, Yuhyeon settled for pressing his lips firmly shut.
The few drops of rain that had begun to fall steadily grew heavier.
“It doesn’t look like we can walk anymore. I have a car waiting out front.”
Seongjun, who had contacted someone, took the lead. At the park entrance, a sedan was parked and waiting. To Yuhyeon, Seongjun — who ran several businesses — had always carried the image of someone close to a chaebol. He had expected Seongjun to have a private driver, but seeing it in person made the gap in wealth feel all the more vast.
As the two of them made their way toward the waiting car, the driver stepped out from behind the wheel and opened the back door to make boarding easy for them. Yuhyeon had never been on the receiving end of this kind of consideration, and it left him with an odd, ticklish feeling in his chest — strange in a way he couldn’t quite name. Whether it was from embarrassment, he kept feeling the urge to smile and quietly bit the inside of his lip to stop himself. Once seated in the back, Yuhyeon handed back the jacket, which had gotten damp in the rain.
Sensing it was likely expensive, Yuhyeon carefully shook off the raindrops that had almost soaked through before handing it over. As if to make that careful gesture feel utterly unnecessary, the man took the jacket and set it down carelessly. Yuhyeon glanced at the corner of the fabric now crumpled in a heap.
Seongjun rolled down the car window and told the driver to take the spare phone from the trunk. Even in the rain, the driver moved without a word of complaint and carried out the order.
Do people in business just operate differently?
Keeping a spare phone in the car — and a brand-new one at that — wasn’t exactly common, and Yuhyeon found it endlessly curious. He watched quietly, his eyes filling with interest.
“This is the only model we have in the car right now. If you’d like something different, please let me know.”
That was what the driver said as he returned from the trunk with a phone box. Yuhyeon took the box with his mouth hanging open and looked down at the items now resting in his arms. Judging by the model names printed on the outside of the boxes, they were all releases from this year — products far too expensive for Yuhyeon to have even considered. Since he didn’t particularly have a preference for any specific model, Yuhyeon chose the device from the brand he was at least somewhat familiar with.
“The phone is already activated, so you can use it right away.”
Seongjun told him the phone number was written on the back of the box, then just as carelessly set down the phones Yuhyeon hadn’t picked. A dazed Yuhyeon nodded and spent a long while quietly repeating the phone number to himself, trying to commit it to memory.
“And our contract — rather than verbal, we should put it in writing….”
Sensing the topic of the contract was starting up again, Yuhyeon leaned in to listen — when Chae Seongjun suddenly went quiet. No matter how long Yuhyeon waited, the words didn’t continue, so he lifted his head to look at him. Seongjun was staring at Yuhyeon with a furrowed brow.
“Do I have something on my face…?”
The gaze was uncomfortably piercing, yet it didn’t carry any negative emotion. Thinking maybe something had gotten on him, Yuhyeon reached up to touch his cheek.
“Are you in your heat cycle?”
“…Pardon?”
“You smell like you’re in heat.”
Seongjun, expression stiff, asked whether Yuhyeon didn’t even know when his own heat cycle was. Yuhyeon immediately understood that the man with the blunt face was, despite his expression, genuinely concerned about him. That much was clear — his eyes gave it away.
“I had a feeling back at the park, but… now that we’re in the car, I’m certain.”
Yuhyeon’s lips parted, then stilled. Unable to push past the embarrassment, his face flushed red, and he quietly rolled down the window. The raindrops that tapped against the back of his hand drew away the heat from his burning skin. He had been so focused on finding ways to deceive Seongjun that he had completely forgotten he was in the middle of his heat cycle. He had come to the park specifically to avoid enclosed spaces cut off from the outside — and yet he’d been careless.
…Even so, “you smell like you’re in heat.”
The blunt choice of words mortified him in an instant. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to point out the rudeness — his desire not to fall out of Seongjun’s favor was simply too strong. Besides, it seemed like a habitual way of speaking rather than something said with any malice. Yuhyeon pressed himself as close to the window as possible and hoped they’d reach their destination soon.
“Have you taken a suppressant?”
“No….”
Without a moment’s hesitation upon hearing Yuhyeon’s answer, Seongjun told the driver to head to Cheongdam-dong. Since Cheongdam-dong was quite far from where they were, a bewildered Yuhyeon immediately looked over at him. The question of weren’t you sending me home? was written plainly all over his face.
“You’ll be seeing me tomorrow, the day after, and for the foreseeable future — if you leave your heat cycle unmanaged, that’s going to be a problem.”
“I’ll be fine once I take some medicine. I just forgot today….”
“Did you really just forget?”
Since the truth was that he hadn’t taken the suppressant because he couldn’t afford to buy it, he couldn’t answer with confidence.
“You know better than anyone else when your heat cycle is coming. There’s no way you’d forget to take a suppressant.”
Not a single word was wrong. Yuhyeon pressed his lips together and said nothing, as if he’d swallowed something bitter.
