“You’re welcome to move about freely within the estate — but it would be wise not to entertain any unnecessary thoughts beyond that.”
Even with how often he was away from home, Beom Yisu had made his position on the interior of the estate firmly clear. Security cameras installed throughout the house, staff managing every corner of the property, records of all movement in and out. In plain terms: you’re being watched, so don’t bother thinking about running.
Of course, the thought had crossed his mind — briefly. But he had no intention of making a rash move before he was ready. Leaving the estate had to come after he’d secured funds for an escape and mapped out a route. Slipping out now by sheer luck would only mean suffering through hardship before getting dragged back. That much was obvious.
The Manager Kang situation might not even be fully resolved yet. It’s too soon.
He’d anticipated from the beginning that getting out of here easily wasn’t going to happen. Better to take his time and prepare properly. Once he shifted his mindset that way, adapting to the rhythms of life in the estate came surprisingly quickly.
For starters, breakfast was self-serve — whatever was laid out, you helped yourself. The problem was what actually lived inside the refrigerator.
The first few days, every time he opened it, he felt his spirit quietly leave his body.
Evian water. An assortment of sparkling waters whose names he didn’t recognize. Unsweetened yogurt. Protein shakes. Little wedges of cheese the size of his palm. It looked less like a fridge that belonged to living people and more like a model home display.
In the end, Siyeon couldn’t take it anymore. He wrote out a note — barley tea bags he drank regularly, dried squid strips for when he needed something to munch on, gummy worm candies, chocolate milk, a few simple snacks — and left it on top of the refrigerator.
He hadn’t been sure it would work, but starting the very next day, one section of the fridge began filling with exactly those things. He didn’t know who was responsible for it, but eventually they even cleared out a dedicated shelf for him entirely.
After that, the time before lunch was completely free, and Siyeon spent most of it shut inside his room.
Reading, or putting on a movie on the large monitor installed in the room. Though calling it watching a movie wasn’t quite accurate — it was more like time spent turning over questions of how to endure this place going forward, or how to minimize the hours spent face to face with the two alphas.
Once he drifted through the morning that way and had lunch, the most ambiguous stretch of the day began. Sitting around waiting for his keepers to return like a dog waiting for its owner didn’t sit particularly well with him. It was fortunate that both Beom Yisu and Chae Yuno were usually out.
The staff working in the estate treated Siyeon as if he didn’t exist. When he tried speaking to them first, they’d turn pale as if they’d seen a ghost and make themselves scarce — so after a few attempts, Siyeon chose to stay quiet first as well.
In that sense, what ironically gave him breathing room was the very thing that had initially felt suffocating: the sheer, unreasonable size of this estate.
With so much space to move around in, the claustrophobia of being confined was less acute than expected. Walking laps for the rehabilitation of his stretched ligament, while also prospecting for any valuables that might serve as an emergency fund, turned out to be a surprisingly satisfying use of time. He couldn’t take anything too conspicuous with the security cameras around, but moving decorative items that looked like they were worth something into his room went smoothly enough.
On top of that, ever since Chae Yuno had left him a black card, the things accumulating in Siyeon’s room had been growing steadily more eclectic.
Plush sleep socks. An oversized cushion in a design that screamed personal taste. A neck pillow that had been advertised as being good for spinal health.
At first he’d been self-conscious about the staff watching the delivery boxes come in — but after a few days, even that wore off. If he was going to be stuck here anyway, living as comfortably as possible was the smarter play.
The problem was Chae Yuno’s card.
Once he started using it, the brakes didn’t work very well. At first he’d bought only what he genuinely needed — but somewhere along the way, he’d started adding things to his cart that made him think, who in the world buys this?
I should stop loafing around and start figuring out escape routes.
…But spending money was just too fun.
Though it wasn’t as if he’d done nothing but idle.
To move freely within the estate, he at least needed to look like someone with things to do. Wandering around for no reason would only tighten the surveillance.
So at one point, he’d carefully asked Beom Yisu whether he might help tend the garden.
That suggestion was rejected outright. There was a dedicated staff member handling the garden — but more than that, the concern was that Siyeon might hurt himself.
What he ended up with instead was organizing the underground archive. As something that had been thrust on him somewhat by accident, it turned out to be his second choice after the garden — and it suited him well enough.
There were several reasons, but stripping away the extras, it simply fit his nature. Even before the possession, hadn’t he spent his days surrounded by stacks of books at the print shop? Perhaps because of that, just being in that space settled something in him.
Why is it so enormous?
Both Chae Yuno and Beom Yisu seemed far too busy to have time to read — and yet the scale of the archive exceeded anything he’d imagined. The original story had included a scene where the protagonist was taken aback by that very room, so he’d had some expectation — but seeing it in person was something else entirely.
The shelves ran nearly to the ceiling, and the upper sections required a ladder to reach. He’d only been at it for a few days, and he worked through it slowly — a set number of shelves per day.
He had the passing thought that he might not finish before the contract ended — but that pace actually suited him better.
In that way, the afternoon passed without incident and evening came around. The rule was that dinner was shared with Beom Yisu — though that rule wasn’t always observed. He came home late most days, and some days didn’t show his face at all.
Still, on the occasional evenings they did sit across from each other, Beom Yisu continued his calls with his secretary straight through the meal. Watching him, Siyeon felt something odd stir. For someone who fit the #chaebol alpha keyword to a tee — genuinely that busy — there was something about the way he still made the effort to come home that was hard to ignore.
Of course, Siyeon had a rough idea why. It would be for the pheromone partner duties that followed dinner. As it turned out, his tension over the word partner had been misplaced — it amounted to nothing more than sitting close together over tea, or each doing their own thing while exchanging pheromones.
Beom Yisu:
I’ll be home at a reasonable hour. Please be ready.
Regarding the pheromone partner matter.
It was exactly one week since he’d been living alone in the estate with Beom Yisu, without Chae Yuno. Today, for whatever reason, a notification had come down from Beom Yisu telling him to be prepared.
What kind of prepared?
Director?
What exactly am I supposed to be ready for?
The unusual heads-up startled him enough to reply for the first time — but no answer came back. He briefly considered whether to loop Chae Yuno in, but decided that would only stir up trouble for no reason, and swallowed his unease.
As it happened, his anxiety was wasted. The clock crept toward late afternoon. I’ll be home at a reasonable hour, he’d said — and yet midnight was nearly upon them.
Click — finally, in the dead of night, the front door opened. The friction of a coat being removed. The sound of a single steadying breath.
Beom Yisu.
He crossed the living room in unhurried strides. Then caught sight of Siyeon sitting in one corner of the dim, unlit room and stopped short for a moment.
“Hong Siyeon.”
At the sound of his name, Siyeon lifted his head slowly.
“…You’re back.”
His voice was hazy, like someone pulled halfway out of sleep. He’d received the message from Beom Yisu during the day — but that didn’t mean he’d been sitting in the living room all night deliberately waiting for him.
One of the side effects since the Unheat overdose was that drowsiness hit him at random, at all hours — the doctor’s prediction about the disrupted pheromone system apparently playing out exactly as warned. He’d only meant to close his eyes for a moment after dinner, and had simply slumped over and stayed that way.
But in the context of rousing himself in the middle of an unlit living room — the way it must have looked to Beom Yisu carried a different meaning entirely.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“You messaged me. Said you were going to… do the pheromone thing today.”
Siyeon answered, rubbing his eyes vaguely.
When he looked up, Beom Yisu had already crossed the distance and was standing right in front of him.
“I sent a message saying I’d be late. It seems you didn’t see it.”
He was the one who’d hammered in how important the pheromone partner routine was — and yet when it came down to it, he delayed it at his own convenience without a second thought.
Just because the other party is stuck inside this estate, he can do as he pleases. Siyeon watched Beom Yisu shrug off his coat and quietly grumbled to himself.
Out of habit, he glanced down at his wrist to check the time — and instead of a watch, his eyes landed on the band there.
…It’s turned orange.
The thin sensor band Chae Yuno had fastened on him just before leaving the country. He’d said that if the pre-heat indicators or pheromone concentration crossed a certain threshold, an alert would go to Chae Yuno first. The light that normally stayed yellow had shifted to orange — which meant the readings had been fluctuating again while he slept.
But… how am I supposed to go in for check-ups.
Chae Yuno had said he’d let the clinic know in advance — but in the end, getting his condition monitored still meant leaving the estate, didn’t it? The doctor’s mention of biweekly check-ups came back to him, and an unease distinct from his earlier irritation rose up to the back of his throat.
Was there any way to leave at all? Siyeon rubbed at his dry, stiff eyes and opened his mouth.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Director.”
Beom Yisu paused in the middle of loosening his tie and looked at Siyeon.
“Go ahead.”
“When would it be possible for me to leave the estate?”
