“Do I really have to keep staying in this estate? The room I rented last time isn’t far. That would be fine.”
Haejin spoke lightly, eyes fixed on the rain beyond the window, as if measuring the distance to the shabby short-term room he had emptied and left behind. Today, the sound of rain tapping against the glass felt unusually harsh.
After saying it, the idea seemed unexpectedly reasonable. When he first signed the contract, he had been desperate. He had nodded to everything without hesitation. Now circumstances had changed. Was it not possible to consider something else? He had agreed to the contract reluctantly. He did not want to be dragged from beginning to end again.
The moment the words left Haejin’s mouth, Lyle felt as though the heavy rain outside were running down his own spine.
Damp. Vast. Unpleasant.
“No.”
“But—”
“Jin. Staying in this estate is part of the condition.”
“…….”
The force in his voice had come before he could stop it. It was already too late. Haejin’s empty gaze turned toward him. The faint vibration of pheromones that had barely lingered when he entered the room had completely dissipated.
As though he had never expected anything in the first place.
“Your belongings have already been arranged. Don’t entertain useless thoughts.”
Outside, the air was soaked with rain, yet his throat felt parched, dry enough to crack. Ignoring it, Lyle pressed down harder, as if forbidding the thought itself.
Even under the sharpness of Lyle’s tone, Haejin merely turned his head away in silent acknowledgment.
A sudden urge rose in Lyle—to seize that gaze before it slipped past him. But he had grown accustomed to suppressing such impulses lately, and he forced it down.
The secretary, who had been observing quietly, gauged the atmosphere and set a pen beside Haejin.
Without a word, Haejin lifted the papers. His suggestion had just been rejected, yet he made no comment.
As a Recessive Omega, Haejin lacked the skill to fully regulate his pheromones. While he slowly turned page after page of the lengthy contract, a faint scent spread softly through the room.
Pheromones typically carried trace emotions. His did not.
They simply sank downward, dull and drained, like scent without meaning.
For reasons he could not explain, Lyle felt the room grow even drier than before.
“The compensation details are outlined thoroughly on page five,” the secretary added.
“……”
He continued explaining in Lyle’s stead, but Haejin merely turned the pages steadily.
Lyle found himself staring at the pale hand holding the papers. Small. Lacking strength. Yet flipping the sheets without tremor. The hand he remembered had been shaking uncontrollably.
Just as he began to think the indifferent gaze scanning the contract seemed almost careless, Haejin stopped midway and lowered the document. He had found the clause he wanted. There was no need to read further.
The compensation section lay just beyond the page where he had stopped.
Haejin picked up the pen. He tapped lightly against the signature line, gathering his thoughts.
The recklessness of signing without reading to the end drew a frown from Lyle. Then Haejin spoke unexpectedly.
“When we do it, I’d prefer the bindings to be changed to handcuffs.”
“……What?”
He understood immediately what Haejin meant. But the proposal was strange—not a refusal, but a modification. Lyle’s expression hardened.
Haejin exhaled faintly. The sound of that breath made Lyle’s spine tighten without his realizing it. Haejin, however, lowered his eyes in fatigue and did not notice.
“At least allow me to prepare myself alone. I don’t want to undress in front of the butler.”
“What did you say…?”
In that instant, realization struck.
Lyle had known the butler bound Haejin’s wrists. What he had overlooked was that, in that state, Haejin would inevitably require the butler’s assistance to undress.
Until now, Lyle had thought only that it was convenient. Now he understood why the Recessive Omega who had come in Haejin’s place once had been waiting fully clothed.
All this time, he had allowed an Alpha butler to strip and bind Haejin without a second thought. And afterward, the humiliating aftermath of that powerless state must have been handled under the same gaze.
It had been Lyle’s own command.
“Is that unacceptable?”
“……Fine.”
The urge to catch Haejin’s gaze vanished as if it had never existed. Lyle looked away awkwardly. For some reason, he found it difficult to meet his eyes.
What Haejin endured had never been his concern. Then why now?
Thunder rolled outside. The rain lashed harder against the windows. The air smelled thick with wet earth. Yet Lyle lifted a hand to cover his mouth and swallowed against a dry throat. The thirst had been building unbearably.
At his answer, Haejin signed calmly. For a moment, Lyle thought he saw the memory of those trembling hands overlap with the steady stroke of the pen.
“……The contract has been concluded,” the secretary announced hesitantly, having also noticed that Haejin had not read to the end.
Haejin had not once glanced toward the section detailing the considerable compensation.
***
As if something unsettled him, the secretary carefully organized the documents and handed them to Haejin personally, advising him politely to review the latter portion when he had time. Haejin nodded, though the motion of his head seemed lighter than a feather.
Their business was finished. They should leave.
Yet for some reason, the path back to his own room felt long to Lyle. He stepped out under Haejin’s questioning gaze. The secretary followed at his side.
“Chairman.”
“…….”
There was no verbal response, but the secretary, who had worked beside Lyle for years, understood the silence as consent—much like Haejin’s earlier silent acknowledgment.
The secretary exhaled quietly, weighing how far he could speak. Even someone like him, who would do anything for Lyle and the Vermouth interests, could not deny a sense of debt toward Haejin.
Though they occasionally crossed into extralegal territory, Vermouth fundamentally operated within legal bounds. Haejin, who had effectively been abducted, might disagree, but the reason they maintained the form of a contract until the end was precisely that.
As Haejin himself understood, in the face of an overwhelming power disparity, such a contract could become a shield. Oppressing the weak under the guise of a contract was something done where power gaps were ambiguous. Vermouth possessed more than enough power to manipulate Haejin without leaving any paper trail at all.
Seeing a fragment of Haejin’s past five years laid bare, the secretary felt nothing but disbelief. As a Beta, whose gender differentiation was more clearly defined, he reacted sensitively to something that bordered on violation. Ultimately, the contract was between Haejin and Lyle.
“Forcing matters to that extent is excessive. Even if his manifestation was late, he is still an Omega.”
As he spoke, the secretary studied Lyle’s expression. The chairman had been walking quickly, something restless and urgent in his face—almost as if fleeing.
“……I know.”
The vague acknowledgment made the secretary frown. Did Lyle know and still act so? Or had he only realized it now? It was unclear. But in truth, it made little difference. His superior was not a man prone to guilt over such matters.
So the secretary calmly pointed out another issue that might have been overlooked. His role extended only this far. How Lyle responded would clarify the secretary’s own stance going forward.
“It would be better to give him time to adjust. His health is still a concern.”
At that moment, Lyle stopped abruptly. The secretary nearly collided into him.
“……Jin’s body—is it still not well?”
“For the time being, proper nutrition is critical. The doctor advised against strenuous activity.”
Lyle raised a hand and covered his mouth, as though caught in serious thought.
The secretary assumed it was the usual headache and reached for his phone. If Lyle intended to grant time, medication would be necessary.
“Are you unwell? Shall I prepare the medication immediately?”
It was the drug that forced pheromone discharge. Its effects were harsh. If it did not carry side effects, Lyle would never have needed to seek out Omega bonding this way.
At those words, Lyle visibly startled. He lifted his head sharply, and for once failed to conceal his disorientation.
He realized he was not suffering from a headache at all.
***
“……Ah.”
Haejin opened his eyes suddenly and realized he had fallen asleep without noticing. Lately, drifting off and waking in a start had become routine. There was nothing for him to do.
Several days had already passed, yet Lyle had not summoned him. Given how insistently he had pushed the contract before, Haejin had expected to be dragged into that room the moment he signed.
It was strange.