A subsidiary under the Baekcheong Group: BC Securities.
The M&A Solutions Team in its Corporate Finance Division was unusually busy today.
In a conference room they must have gone in and out of countless times just today alone, Team Lead Baek Kanghyeon asked,
“Assistant Manager Jang, have you finished verifying Taeyoung Industrial’s risk data?”
He still didn’t lift his eyes from the stack of complex paperwork in his hand.
Of the ten people gathered in the room, the man typing the fastest on his laptop hurried to answer,
“Yes. Upon review, all risks fell within the expected range.”
“Good. How far along are we on the competitor analysis?”
“We’re currently focusing on grasping each competitor’s financial standing, but it’s going to take some time.”
Only then did Kanghyeon look up at Jang’s sheepish reply. When his cold, expressionless eyes fell on him, a hush briefly settled over the room.
With the Taeyoung Industrial acquisition battle right in front of them, assessing competitors’ financial conditions was both more important and more urgent than anything else.
Knowing this, Baek Kanghyeon had deliberately assigned multiple team members to support Assistant Manager Jang—shouldering several times more work himself than anyone else on the team to make that possible.
And even so, what came back was “it’ll take some time,” so even if he caught flak, he had nothing to say for himself.
But as if he’d expected this, Kanghyeon said, evenly,
“For this acquisition, the RM (Risk Management) team has agreed to collaborate proactively. They’ve got a fair bit of data on the competitors, so meet with Assistant Manager Park in RM.”
“Understood!”
Tense until a moment ago, Jang answered in a booming, suddenly bright voice. Only then did the other team members each let out a quiet sigh of relief.
No matter what happened, Baek Kanghyeon never showed intense emotion. Even when he was angry, he slipped the blade in quietly, with a calm voice.
The problem was how much that blade hurt—enough that even onlookers flinched.
They’d braced themselves to taste that blade again this time, but perhaps because it was the “last day,” he was surprisingly generous.
“And the initial negotiation proposal…”
The team, who’d just relaxed, focused again as Kanghyeon continued.
***
Six p.m. already.
In the conference room where the entire team still sat, Baek Kanghyeon was the first to rise.
“Good work.”
Normally he was the one who stayed the latest at the office, but today was different.
“The new team lead will take it from here, so I expect you to wrap it up well.”
When he stood, the team members all stood and bowed their heads to him in unison.
“Thank you for everything.”
“It’s a shame. If possible, we’d have liked you to stay long enough to see it through perfectly.”
“We’ll miss you, Team Lead.”
With bitter expressions, they each added a word.
They couldn’t help but regret Baek Kanghyeon’s transfer.
At BC Securities, the M&A Solutions Team’s performance had been unquestionably top-tier. That had held true for the entire two years since Baek Kanghyeon took over as team lead.
Tongue-clickingly fast and precise work, astounding results, and the workaholic drive to back it all up.
On top of that, regardless of his own overtime, he considered his team’s on-the-dot departures mandatory. He never dumped an excessive load that would become a burden. He saw straight through each member’s capabilities and assigned them work suited exactly to them, so no one had ever felt they were being treated unfairly.
In that sense, Baek Kanghyeon was the ideal boss.
Aside from the fact that he didn’t smell like a person.
“Team Lead Baek, at least let us throw a farewell dinner…”
“I’ll accept the sentiment.”
Even now. For someone saying those words, his face looked like it had built a wall against gratitude.
“Then, thank you for your work.”
With the team seeing him off, Kanghyeon left the conference room. He gave a light, as-if-we’ll-see-each-other-tomorrow farewell, but that was his last appearance at BC Securities.
Knowing this, those left in the room wore sheepish looks.
“Even with a sudden transfer, he’s so composed.”
“Seriously. With the project in full swing, it must weigh on him a lot… It all counts as results, too.”
When a few showed their regret, Assistant Manager Jang loosened his stifling tie and said,
“The team lead doesn’t really care about results.”
“Why? If you stack up results, obviously…”
At Jang’s words, a puzzled team member let out an oh, as if it had just dawned on them.
“He’s on the fast track regardless of results anyway.”
Even as they spoke, Jang kept staring at the conference room door Kanghyeon had gone through. In his gaze swelled the helpless envy he’d never been able to show.
***
The moment the sleek black sedan pulled out of BC Securities’ underground garage, a call came in for Baek Kanghyeon.
—Are you done with work?
The caller’s voice was gentle and mild—his third brother, two years older than him, Baek Heeu.
“Just now.”
—Good timing, then.
Heeu gave a faint laugh and sent a text. An unfamiliar address popped up on the phone.
—I cleared out your old place during the day. I’ll send you the address, so head there.
It was abrupt.
Brother or not, clearing out someone else’s home without permission.
Even so, Kanghyeon didn’t find it rude. Partly because he had little attachment to the space called “home,” but mostly because he owned so few personal items that it hardly mattered who packed them.
He rolled the name of the new residence on his tongue as it glowed on the screen.
Palace Skytower… Quite a grand name.
It was familiar. Judging by the Gangnam location, it was probably the place that had flashed through his mind.
“Isn’t it unnecessarily big?”
—Couldn’t be helped. It’s the one Father liked best.
Heeu laughed, a little helpless.
For Kanghyeon, a home was merely a place to sleep or finish work he couldn’t complete at the office. So rather than size and luxury, he prioritized quiet.
Of course, the place Heeu had secured was one of the priciest officetels in Korea—and the top floor at that. In terms of soundproofing, there was probably nothing to complain about.
While he pictured the tall building that would become his home,
Heeu spoke in a slightly excited voice.
—You’re about to start moving in earnest, so he must’ve paid extra attention. This is good.
Is it good?
Honestly, he didn’t know.
The top floor of a skyscraper planted in the heart of Gangnam.
A division head seat set up smack in BC Holdings, Father’s most cherished.
The expectation Father had begun to show without filters made it hard to breathe. It was a burden, knowing those expectations were being poured onto him while bypassing his three older brothers.
Listening to Heeu’s voice, excited as if it were his own matter, Kanghyeon clenched the contoured steering wheel hard enough to snap it.
***
At the officetel’s front desk, after picking up the home key Heeu had left, Kanghyeon headed straight for the top-floor-only elevator. Perhaps because it served only the top-floor residents, it seemed it would take barely a minute to go from the first floor straight up to the 101st.
Nice that I won’t have to run into other people.
He didn’t care for crowded elevators. He hated noise; he hated too many presences. So he found this quiet elevator, where he’d meet no one but people from the same floor, very much to his liking.
Soon, the 101st floor.
With a clear chime, the doors slid open.
And then came a noise that clashed with the calm of the elevator.
“Mm… Ah, wait… Haeil…”
It was a lilting voice that made it hard to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Along with it came a rather provocative sweet scent.
When Kanghyeon stepped out, that voice and that sweetness rushed in thicker.
“Ha… th—the elevator…! Ah… if you keep touching there, ngh!”
He turned his head toward the sound. In front of his next-door neighbor’s door, two men were tangled together.
With his back to this side, the Omega, held in the arms of a tall man, belatedly squirmed in his embrace.
“Haeil, hnn… there are… there are people…”
But despite the Omega’s reaction, the man’s petting didn’t stop. The hand shoved under the loose clothes kept roaming. The Omega’s face, reacting to every touch, looked ready to melt.
Clicking his tongue inwardly, Kanghyeon headed for his own door.
If you’re in heat, at least take it inside like a good boy.
Even if there were only two units on this floor, it wasn’t like he lived alone.
With that thought, he stopped at his door—when suddenly every hair on his body seemed to stand on end.
A prickling wave of Alpha pheromones crashed over him out of nowhere, and his brow knit on its own.