“But President, are you sure you have no relationship with the young master?”
“What bullshit are you talking?”
Director Ha hurriedly avoided Jang Hyeokjin’s gaze as if realizing he’d misspoken. But if he shut his mouth here, an even greater reprimand would follow, so he had no choice but to continue despite his hesitation.
“You were engaged to the chairman’s son. If there’s even the slightest possibility that the young master might be your biological child, how about checking even now? If the father-son relationship is proven, when a ‘problem’ arises with the young master, you’ll have inheritance rights, so wouldn’t that make things a bit easier?”
Fortunately, Jang Hyeokjin accepted Director Ha’s words as a fairly reasonable question. So he smoothed out his furrowed face and slowly shook his head.
“No. If there was even the slightest possibility, I would have stepped up long ago.”
“Still, just in case…”
“I had no relationship whatsoever with that bastard Hyun Sejun. Do I really need to say this much?”
“Ah, I-I’m sorry.”
To the point where it was even doubtful whether he was really an omega, Jang Hyeokjin had never felt any impulse toward Hyun Sejun.
Average face, average mind, average talents. If you gathered all the humans in the world and averaged them out, Hyun Sejun was the kind of person who would stand right at that central axis.
He’d heard the round face shape and the gently drooping, thin eye corners resembled his mother who died young. Hyun Sejun happened to attach Hyun Hongwon’s low nose bridge to that face, making for an even more vague impression.
His already gentle disposition became even softer like tofu because Hyun Hongwon, who was endlessly affectionate only toward his own blood, had raised him preciously from childhood, coddling him. Yet externally, perhaps because he was scared of his tiger-like father, he’d mumble or trail off without properly expressing his will, making him frustratingly difficult to deal with.
Was that why? If he hadn’t been Chairman Hyun Hongwon’s only child, if he hadn’t been an omega, when that ordinary man he would have had no reason to even deal with dared to flee carrying another alpha’s child, Jang Hyeokjin wasn’t that furious.
Even if we married, the bastard I was worried about embracing disappeared on his own, even leaving grounds to hold Hyun Hongwon responsible, so it was rather fortunate.
Because he was that kind of bastard, Jang Hyeokjin had never once embraced Hyun Sejun. When he approached thinking it might be good to at least kiss, he got disgusted seeing him try to avoid it and stopped, so it was only natural. They say even earthworms have the skill to roll, so how did he manage to give birth to a son like Hyun Jaeha with that state?
It made sense that Hyun Sejun couldn’t give up Hyun Jaeha even while living in hardships he’d never experienced in his life. He gave birth to a miracle, so he would have wanted to hold onto it. Just looking back and forth between his own face and his son’s face in the mirror would have made him happy.
Come to think of it, Jaeha said while making a scene this morning, ‘Where would lowborn blood go?’
It doesn’t seem like he was talking about Hyun Hongwon or Hyun Sejun.
Does he know who his biological father is?
Of course, Jang Hyeokjin didn’t need to worry about that family’s problems. He gestured to Director Ha to leave now.
“Keep tracking.”
“Yes.”
After Director Ha left, Jang Hyeokjin checked his phone. Dozens of messages were piled up in the notification window, but there was nothing from Han Taesung.
Yeah, let’s see how this turns out.
Will he go crazy from tasting the kid’s dick and try to do something foolish, or will he crawl on all fours like a dog bastard and confess the sin of licking someone’s cock without the master’s permission?
For omegas, pheromones were important.
Though they were equally unpleasant faces, unlike Hyun Sejun, Han Taesung’s pheromones were thick enough that just from the traces Hyun Jaeha came covered in, he could grasp how much he must have writhed.
Strength went into the finger joints pulling out a cigarette. The cigarette waist bent limply.
Jang Hyeokjin threw the crumpled cigarette on the floor, pulled out a new one, put it in his mouth, and chewed on the filter tip.
There are people you can recognize just by the sound of their footsteps.
Hyun Sejun was like that. If he listened to the footsteps of people coming and going through the alley through the gaps in the flimsy window of the semi-basement room, he’d eventually hear a trudging sound like someone throwing tired legs on the ground. He always stopped abruptly in front of the villa entrance and rubbed his shoe soles on any random pebble to remove the dust and gum that had stuck during the day. Then, lifting his heavy heels, he’d lightly stamp his feet—tap tap—and run down half a floor of particularly uneven stairs in one breath.
Jaeha, Dad’s home!
Every time he opened the front door and came in, he was smiling brightly. Even though he saw the corners of his mouth he’d struggled to lift trembling, Jaeha hugged Hyun Sejun’s waist tightly without saying anything.
At times like these, Jaeha recalled the story of Bluebeard.
If the wife had ultimately not opened the forbidden door, could they have lived happily?
Or would Bluebeard’s terrible and cruel nature that killed his previous wives have erupted in another direction, ultimately murdering even the wife who didn’t break the taboo?
Bluebeard’s wife didn’t know what would happen when she opened the forbidden door, but Jaeha knew. The moment Jaeha noticed the fatigue and depression lurking at Hyun Sejun’s foundation, their relationship would change irreversibly. Hyun Sejun would no longer be obsessed with playing the ‘perfect dad’ role, and Jaeha could no longer be an innocent and lovable son to him.
Jaeha didn’t want this house to become an ordinary household where a father exhausted by hard labor was pushed by a sense of responsibility to care for his child. Hyun Sejun had to be happy. Even if he wasn’t actually happy, he had to delude himself into thinking he was happy. That way…
‘…he won’t abandon me.’
The familiar footsteps approaching Jaeha stopped. Then someone who’d approached struck the back of Jaeha’s head hard enough to make a thwack sound as he sat hunched over with his long body curled up tightly, hugging his knees with his face buried between them.
Only then did Jaeha raise his head. Yeom Chaewoo was taking off the work gloves she’d been wearing all dawn while carrying vegetable boxes, her face deeply furrowed.
“You come back after staying out without a word and what kind of pitiful act are you putting on alone?”
Dirt fell from the work gloves. Jaeha lightly brushed the spot she’d hit with his fingertips. Today’s protagonist must be potatoes. Or maybe sweet potatoes. Well, it could be deodeok too.
Crops buried underground have thinner skins than any fruit ripening under the sun. When just dug up, they look crude with dirty muddy water, but if you just gently scrape the surface with a knife, the white flesh is immediately revealed.
For them, the damp and dark soil must just be cozy. So they must have settled for wrapping that tender inside that falls apart just from being put in boiling water with an epidermis thinner than paper. While endlessly stretching green leaves outward saying they miss the world where warm sunlight shines, they don’t try to offer up their actual bodies buried in the soil. Until someone forcibly digs up the dirt and pulls them out.
“I lost my key.”
Jaeha leaned one side of his face against his arm and looked up at Yeom Chaewoo at an angle.
The light seeping in through the small ventilation window with rusty iron bars couldn’t fully illuminate this dim corridor. Only after reaching the corridor where cool moisture always lingered and searching his pockets did Jaeha realize his house key was gone.
Where did I leave it? Taesung’s house is likely, but maybe the key flew away too when I threw money in front of Wonin Construction. Should I think the latter? Might as well go with the most pathetic option.
“I told you to change to a door lock. Who opens their front door with a key these days?”
It wasn’t something Yeom Chaewoo should say when she had to carry a bundle of keys tied together like a prison guard in her back pocket because the store lock also had to be opened with a key.
“Mm, but the locksmith grandpa told me to leave it. He said this is much safer.”
“Yeah, it’s so safe that even the homeowner can’t get in—that’s the problem.”
Yeom Chaewoo selected the most crude-looking one among the jangling keys and inserted it into the keyhole.
It didn’t turn, as if the direction was wrong.
Ah fuck, she muttered curses and inserted the key again.
The hexagonal lock opened with a heavy click sound.
Jaeha held out his hand as if asking to be helped up. Yeom Chaewoo responded by harshly slapping the back of his hand. In the end, Jaeha struggled to straighten his body that had been curled up tightly on his own. Then he went inside, propping the top of the doorframe, and carelessly kicked off his shoes onto the red-bean-colored tiles.
“Did you eat breakfast?”
Even though she asked first, Yeom Chaewoo turned on the water forcefully as if she had no intention of listening to Jaeha’s answer in the first place. Jaeha flopped down on the bed while listening to her splashing as she washed her face.
Creak, screech.
The faucet closed with a noisy sound.
Jaeha closed both eyes and only muttered after the sound of plastic slippers scraping the floor quieted down and he heard the sound of wet soles sticking to and peeling off the floor covering.
“I just want to sleep.”
“What were you doing wandering around without even sleeping until now?”
Instead of answering, Jaeha buried his face in the pillow. Yeom Chaewoo, who never asked twice, ignored him and sat down on the sofa to eat a banana. Jaeha, who’d been pretending to sleep quietly, suddenly stuck out one hand. Yeom Chaewoo clicked her tongue and handed him the half-peeled banana. Jaeha lay down looking at the ceiling and started chomping the banana with his front teeth.
