Why is this man here?
Through the fog in his head, Yeonwoo barely managed to form a thought. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that he realized he was still sitting inside the car—and that the sun was already sinking low across the sky. But what still made no sense was the fact that Keith was right there in front of him. Was he hallucinating?
Keith clicked his tongue, sounding incredulous under Yeonwoo’s vacant stare. In the next instant, he slammed his fist against the window again.
“Ah!”
Yeonwoo flinched with a shriek, curling up instinctively. Keith ground his teeth.
“What the hell are you doing? Open this door and get out. Now.”
Yeonwoo couldn’t respond. He bit his lip hard, trying to suppress his violently trembling body. His teeth kept clashing together so badly that even biting his lip was a struggle.
Click.
He finally managed to open the door. It was only after stepping out and straightening his back that he realized men in black suits were surrounding the car. Among them, he saw Whitaker’s face. He forced his head to move and finally strung together a few words.
“I’m sorry, I... couldn’t drive... I couldn’t...”
The broken words—was it because he was stuttering, or because his hearing wasn’t right?
That was the last thing his consciousness could process.
***
There was a faint, sweet scent. One he recognized. What was it?
His whole body jolted upright as if shocked by electricity. He blinked blankly. Only belatedly did he realize he was in a car. Not his old beat-up one, of course. Reclined in a leather seat more comfortable than his own bed, he slowly rolled his gaze around the interior.
Marble-finished surfaces. The subtle mix of leather and pheromones. A graceful carpet laid out underfoot. And, not particularly welcome, Keith sitting beside him. It was then that he understood the faint sweetness lingering in the air—Keith’s pheromone scent soaked into the car.
Click. The sound of a lighter. Hesitantly turning his eyes, he saw Keith lighting a cigarette.
The ember flared red at the tip, then flickered out. Keith took a long drag and exhaled smoke before finally speaking.
“Talk. What’s the issue this time?”
Yeonwoo blinked, dazed. Keith looked tired of him. Yeonwoo felt cornered but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. No, that wasn’t quite right—his thoughts were a mess, impossible to sort into words. Thankfully, it was just the two of them in the car. The driver’s seat was sealed off by a panel, forming a perfectly isolated space.
Had he ever fainted before?
That was the first thing he tried to remember. Nothing came to mind.
Keith was waiting for an answer. A wave of dizziness hit. Yeonwoo tried, somehow, to explain. As he slowly pieced together his memory and opened his mouth to speak, something Keith had once said flashed across his mind.
“So dramatic over nothing.”
His throat closed up. What was the point of saying anything? Keith would never understand. He’d only get hurt again.
He bit his lip, swallowing the words. After a couple of deep breaths, he finally said,
“...I’d like to see a counselor.”
Even to his own ears, his voice sounded completely worn down.
“I think... I might have a mental issue. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. It just... happened.”
At least he was able to finish the sentence like he normally would. Staring blankly at his fingertips, he sensed Keith making a call. Soon after, Keith spoke.
“Tell Steward we’re coming.”
That was the name of Keith’s personal physician. Everyone, Yeonwoo included, had always wondered why a man who got whatever he wanted would need counseling. He had never once scheduled an appointment with that doctor on Keith’s behalf. Steward was just a name he remembered.
Startled, he turned his head. Keith, cigarette in hand, was rubbing the bridge of his nose, irritated.
“It’s not for me. It’s for my secretary. What does it matter? Yeah, now.”
Normally, it would have been Yeonwoo calling Steward. Since he couldn’t work right now, Keith must’ve told Whitaker or Emma instead. Who had made the call? He felt a flicker of useless curiosity but asked nothing.
“Thank you.”
That was all he could manage, waiting for Keith to hang up. Keith glanced at him with a frown, then looked away. They didn’t say a word after that. Yeonwoo wanted to ask how Keith had found him—but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He kept his mouth shut. Keith didn’t say anything either, and the car arrived at the hospital.
That was when the next problem began. He couldn’t get out of the car. His entire body had frozen, shaking violently, and Keith’s face twisted again. But it wasn’t something Yeonwoo could control. The trembling wouldn’t stop. Eventually, it turned into full-blown hyperventilation.
Haa, haa. Haa, haa.
Whitaker rushed over and pressed a plastic bag into his hands. Yeonwoo held it to his mouth and tried to steady his breathing. From somewhere beyond the haze, he sensed Keith leaving the car. And then, someone else entered.
“...!”
He flinched, swallowing a scream, and recoiled instinctively. Wedged between the window and the seat, his body shook uncontrollably as a man he didn’t recognize began to speak.
“It’s okay. Try to calm down. I’m Norman Steward. A doctor. If you’re Mr. Pittman’s secretary, you’ve probably heard my name, right?”
The smile on his face was nothing but gentle. Yeonwoo panted, frozen, unable to move. Steward didn’t come any closer. He stayed perfectly still, waiting for Yeonwoo to calm down. Behind him, the car door was wide open. If anything happened, Whitaker—or anyone else—would be right there to help. That thought helped ease some of the fear.
“Yes, that’s good. You’re doing well.”
Steward offered calm encouragement.
Cough, cough.
A sudden fit of coughing seized him. Yeonwoo’s shoulders jolted with each shallow breath. Once he’d calmed down a little, Steward finally spoke again.
“Feeling a bit better?”
Yeonwoo tried not to avert his gaze and answered with difficulty.
“Yes.”
That was all he could manage. But Steward showed no sign of discomfort. Still in the same spot, he continued gently.
“Looks like a panic attack. Has anything like this ever happened before?”
Yeonwoo shook his head. Steward nodded and asked, even softer now,
“Do you have any idea what might’ve triggered it? What happened before the episode?”
He couldn’t answer. He bit his lip again. Saying it out loud would destroy him. It was too humiliating. His breath grew ragged again, and Steward quickly spoke.
“It’s okay, Yeonwoo. You’re safe here. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just breathe slowly. That’s right. You’re doing well. Try again, slowly...”
As his breathing finally returned to normal, an overwhelming fatigue set in. What was the point of any of this? A wave of emptiness washed over him. The pain, the shame—it all felt meaningless. Once his rational mind returned, he would probably regret this. The shame and pain would come back even stronger, with interest.
But for now, none of that mattered.
He was too tired. All he wanted was for it to end.
“...At that party, that night...”
Speaking in a low, dragging voice, he began to recount what had happened. Steward listened silently.
***
“...That’s everything.”
By the time he finally finished speaking, he felt like he might pass out again. He was too exhausted to say another word. Steward, who had listened patiently through all of his halting, faltering sentences, finally opened his mouth for the first time.
“I see.”
As Yeonwoo blinked blankly, Steward’s voice remained calm and warm, his expression unchanged.
“That must’ve been difficult. Thank you for telling me. Now just rest—I’ll speak to Mr. Pittman.”
He moved slowly, as if careful not to startle him, and stepped out of the car. Left alone, Yeonwoo’s eyes remained fixed on the open door. It felt like someone might climb in at any moment, and his eyes widened instinctively. As if noticing that, Steward reached over from outside and shut the door.
Hoo.
Only when he was truly alone did the tension leave his body. A long sigh escaped his lips. Fatigue surged all at once, and he leaned his head against the window with his eyes closed. At the edge of his vision, he thought he saw Steward talking to Keith. But his awareness soon sank into darkness, and before he knew it, he had drifted off.
Click.
The abrupt sound of the door opening snapped him awake. His eyes flew open, body frozen in place—and then, through the cigarette smoke, he caught the faint scent of pheromones.
Ah.
Relief, inexplicable and sudden, loosened every muscle in his body. As the owner of that scent climbed into the car, the tension in his eyes dissipated.
Keith closed the door without a word. Alone in the car with him, Yeonwoo felt a confusing sense of comfort inside the lingering anxiety. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, afraid that even this fleeting moment of peace would vanish like a bubble. In his place, Keith opened his mouth first.
“So? What are you going to do?”
Yeonwoo blinked, not understanding at first. Keith looked at him. Only then did the meaning click. He bit his lip, released it, and answered.
“...I can’t work like this. I think I’ll need to take an extended leave, or… resign. I’m sorry.”
The last part came out quickly. He shut his mouth again, waiting for Keith’s response. For a while, there was none. Yeonwoo didn’t have the courage to look at him, so he averted his eyes. The mix of cigarette smoke and pheromones felt even heavier. Finally, Keith spoke.
“When did we renew your contract? Has it been six months?”
“...Five months and twenty days.”
“Contract’s for a year. Think you can afford the penalty?”
“I’m sorry. If you could give me some time…”
He hesitated, then added,
“It’s a lot of money to me, but to you, Mr. Pittman, it’s pocket change. It’s not an urgent sum either.”
Keith’s eyes narrowed at that. Had he said something to offend him? Yeonwoo grew anxious. Keith took a deep drag on his cigarette and exhaled sharply.
“I need you.”
Yeonwoo knew exactly what that meant. Keith didn’t need him, only a secretary. Someone who would handle the tedious tasks, deal with the unpleasant business, and always adjust to his needs without being told. That person didn’t have to be Yeonwoo—he just happened to be the most suitable one right now.
And yet, the words still stung.
“...I’m sorry. But I really can’t go back to work right now.”
His voice trembled slightly, and he fought to steady it.
“I barely managed to get into the car, but anything beyond that... I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again tomorrow.”
His words faded, tapering off. That was the limit of what he could say. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he could get out of the car right now. Having someone beside him was comforting, but once he returned home, he’d be alone again. Could he handle that fear?
Could he go back out into the world?
Keith didn’t answer. Yeonwoo had no idea what he was thinking. Eventually, Keith moved. He tapped the window with two fingers—just a small gesture, like knocking.
But with nothing more than that, the world shifted. Everything that had been frozen until now suddenly began to move. Someone slid into the driver’s seat, and the engine came alive. Outside the window, Yeonwoo saw Whitaker and the other bodyguards hurrying to board their vehicles, scattering in every direction.
Soon after, the car carrying him and Keith began to drive.
Yeonwoo didn’t ask where they were going. He just kept his mouth shut. Keith didn’t speak either. Just like the ride to the hospital, the return trip was made in silence.
…Ah.
The scenery outside the window became familiar, and Yeonwoo realized they were heading back toward his shabby little apartment. And that this moment was coming to an end.
Keith had said nothing in response to his talk of quitting. Yeonwoo wondered what he might be thinking. Was he already considering who to hire next? The world was full of talented people—surely he wouldn’t bother trying to stop him again.
“...It’ll be inconvenient at first, but you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
The words slipped out without thought. Keith turned his eyes slightly and looked at him. Yeonwoo lowered his gaze and continued.
“There are plenty of competent people… Emma’s gotten pretty used to things by now, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble this time.”
As he offered what he thought was a reasonable alternative, Keith let out an unexpected snort. He furrowed his brow, almost laughing in mockery.
“No one but you can do the job right now the way I need it done.”
It was true. Keith Knight Pittman had probably never experienced anything in his life not going the way he wanted. If things didn’t fall into place exactly as he liked, he didn’t tolerate it.
He had no reason to wait for anyone to adjust to him.
Yeonwoo had struggled those first few months too. When his predecessor quit after filing a lawsuit over Keith’s verbal abuse, Yeonwoo had been shoved into the role of team lead like a lightning strike out of nowhere. It had been a nightmare.
Even so, he had poured everything into adjusting to Keith’s demands. Overtime had become the norm. Just one phone call on a weekend, and he would drop everything to run around at Keith’s beck and call. Thinking back, Keith had only scowled at him during those early days. After that, he had seemed fairly satisfied with his work.
Of course he had. Yeonwoo had practically given up his life for this man. Every time he learned a new piece of Keith’s preferences or habits, he’d felt a twisted kind of thrill.
Working tirelessly to anticipate Keith’s needs brought him a satisfaction unlike anything else. Even if Keith had never once acknowledged it.
“...I’m sorry.”
That was all he could say.
Keith said nothing.
The car gradually began to slow down. It would stop soon. That thought made it suddenly hard to breathe. He would have to get out. He would have to go home. Lie down in bed and fight the fear alone.
His thoughts tangled up again, but then—
A scent.
Pheromones.
Without realizing it, Yeonwoo turned toward Keith. The man was staring right at him, unmoving. The air inside the car was completely still, perfectly balanced, and then—one thing broke through.
Pheromones, sharply unnatural, pushed in like a wedge.
Yeonwoo’s mouth parted in shock. He couldn’t speak. But he already knew what was happening.
Keith’s violet eyes shimmered faintly, shifting to gold.
The pheromone emission spiked—no, exploded. It crushed him like a weight. His pulse spiked, cold sweat ran down his back, his vision blurred. The memories surged up all at once.
Naked bodies. Hands clawing at him. The foreign taste flooding his mouth.
Ha.
He inhaled sharply—too sharply. The thick wave of pheromones rushed into his lungs and choked him instantly. His breath stopped—and then Keith seized him by the back of the head and yanked him forward.
“...!”
His eyes flew wide. Then lips crashed into his. A tongue pushed into his mouth. On instinct, he almost shoved him away—but Keith grabbed his hands easily, pinning them down. There was no way to resist. His grip on Yeonwoo’s head was too strong. There was no escaping the kiss.
His mouth was ravaged—bitten, licked, devoured. Blood spread. Keith smeared it across their lips, sucking him in like he meant to swallow him whole.
Saliva slid down Yeonwoo’s throat in gulps. The horror returned. He felt nauseous, but couldn’t retreat, couldn’t escape. Terror choked him, but he endured the kiss, violent as it was.
Keith licked, rubbed, drank everything he could.
“Good.”
Finally, Keith pulled away. His breath was as ragged as Yeonwoo’s. In Yeonwoo’s dazed vision, the golden hue in Keith’s eyes etched itself deep into memory.
Keith spoke in a low voice.
“Move in with me. That should fix it.”