"What is this?" Soo-hyun asked, his voice flat but edged with irritation.
His gaze lingered on the document laid neatly across his desk, a thick stack of papers clipped together. Each page bearing a name, a photo, and an impressively curated background file. Potential pretend partner, Alphas, all of them—carefully selected, meticulously categorized and utterly unappealing.
Kiyonari blinked once, then straightened. "All the names of Alphas registered in the Matchmaking Program, sir," he replied, tone almost rehearsed.
Soo-hyun let out a slow, heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair. The leather creaked faintly under his weight. For someone who had personally approved the plan to find a pretend partner, he looked profoundly uninterested, half offended that the list even existed at all.
He rested his head against his palm, elbow propped on the armrest, eyes half-lidded as if already bored. "I don't need that," he said leisurely, dismissively, as though he were talking about an outdated memo.
"Eh? But sir—"
Soo-hyun snapped his head up, dark eyes cutting sharply toward Kiyonari. "I already told you to terminate my membership to that matchmaking nonsense."
The room seemed to tighten. Kiyonari shifted his weight, fingers curling briefly at his sides. "But Director Je, if we don't find you a partner—"
"... Then we have no choice but to make someone my partner."
Kiyonari frowned. "What?"
Soo-hyun leaned forward this time, expressing cool, calculating. "Money works faster than going through all these lists," he said, tapping the documents once with his finger, "choosing which bastard is competent enough to stand beside me as my fiancé."
The words hung in the air.
Kiyonari stared at him, silent, clearly waiting for clarification or perhaps hoping Soo-hyun would soften his stance.
"What I mean to say is," Soo-hyun continued calmly, "I don't trust spoiled Alpha chaebols who think a contract relationship is some kind of game."
"But you'd rather pay a stranger to do it?" Kiyonari asked. His voice was still controlled, but the question slipped out before he could stop it.
Soo-hyun didn't answer right away. He simply looked at Kiyonari, unreadable, then turned his gaze toward the window, the city skyline reflected faintly in the glass. "Tell Eunji I have meetings to attend," he said at last. "I'm not expecting any visitors."
The dismissal was clear.
Kiyonari hesitated, lips parting as if to argue further, but thought better of it. He bowed his head slightly, professionalism snapping back into place. "Understood, sir."
He turned to leave, the documents still lying untouched on the desk without saying anything back.
Later that afternoon, Kiyonari found himself revisiting the lists—again. Even after Soo-hyun had rejected the idea outright, the thick folder remained opened on his desk, pages spread as though silently demanding to be acknowledged.
One by one, he reviewed each profile, flipping through the papers with a practiced motion. His eyes were sharp, focused, yet his mind drifted elsewhere, wandering in circles of quiet contemplation.
What exactly is he planning?
He kept insisting he didn't need the matchmaking program, dismissing it as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience. And yet—this was the only structured, socially acceptable way to find someone suitable. Someone who could stand beside him without raising suspicion. Someone who wouldn't complicate things further. Kiyonari turned another page. His hand suddenly stilled.
With a soft thud, he closed the folder and leaned back, eyes lifting to the long, high ceiling overhead. The sterile white lights above felt too bright, and exposing as if they might peer into his thoughts.
"An Alpha mate, huh?" He murmured. The words lingered, echoing faintly in his head.
Then, unbidden, another thought surfaced—one that made his chest tighten.
Why go through all this trouble to find an Alpha... when there was already one so close to him?
Kiyonari froze. His breath hitched, and for a brief moment, his mind went utterly blank. Then realization slammed into him like a jolt of electricity.
[!!]
Oh my god—what am I thinking?! An Alpha close to him?
Was he seriously entertaining that idea?
He nearly recoiled from his own thoughts, mortified. Heat rushed to his face, his ears burning as his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. He raised a hand to his face, rubbing at his temple as if he could physically scrub the thought away.
"You should go back to work, idiot," he muttered under his breath.
Straightening abruptly, Kiyonari sat upright and reopened the folder, forcing his attention back to the documents. He had barely resumed reading when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer with each step.
He looked up instinctively.
Yiseo was standing in front of his desk. "Yiseo-sshi," Kiyonari called, a hint of surprise in his voice.
The younger man blinked, clearly not expecting to be addressed first. "Good morning to you too, Kihyun-sshi," he replied, offering a gentle and polite smile.
Kiyonari nodded in return.
Before he knew it, the two of them were seated across from each other in the cafeteria, trays set neatly on the table between them. It was Yiseo who had suggested lunch together, his invitation casual and easy to accept.
"So," Yiseo began, tone light and delighted, "I heard that the Director's sister got engaged."
Kiyonari flicked his eyes up. "Uh—yeah. She's marrying the son of the top hospital in the country," he said. After a pause, he added, quieter, "You could say they're a perfect couple."
Yiseo tilted his head slightly. "Oh? You mean Dr. Myung?"
"Yeah. That's him."
Yiseo blinked, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. "If I remember correctly... wasn't he already married twice?"
Kiyonari stiffened. "Twice already?"
"His first marriage ended because of a fraud," Yiseo explained calmly. "And the second one lasted barely a year."
"Huh..."
"But still," Yiseo continued, smiling softly, "I'm glad he found someone like Ms. Hyuna. Hopefully, he'll settle down with her for good."
Kiyonari hummed faintly, gaze dropping to his tray. "I hope it's the same for Director Je," he mumbled under his breath.
Kiyonari let out a nervous chuckle. "Hahaha... I feel the same... I guess."
Yiseo smiled, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
"I've always wondered if Director Je simply hates Alphas."
Kiyonari listened, saying nothing.
"I mean," Yiseo continued, "considering how much his family treasures him—even if being defected—they've chosen a lot of suitable Alphas for him. Yet he rejects every single one without hesitation."
Kiyonari shifted in his seat. "I think I know what you mean," he said carefully. "But maybe he's just not interested with any of them. Not all Omegas can be attracted to all Alphas that easily."
Yiseo's lips curved upward, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. A knowing smile. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing loosely over his chest, his posture relaxed—almost casual.
"Enough about them. Let's talk something else."
"Actually, now that I think about it," he said, thoughtfully, eyes narrowing just a little.
"I've been curious about you too, Kihyun-sshi."
Kiyonari blinked, caught off guard. "Me?" He let out a small, uncertain laugh. "What do you mean by that, Yiseo-sshi?"
Yiseo tilted his head, studying him. "No male secretaries have ever lasted long working under the Director," he explained calmly.
"Most of his secretaries are usually women, handpicked by his mother. And of course, all of them were Betas."
The words hit harder than Kiyonari expected. He flinched almost imperceptibly and shifted in his seat, fingers tightening around the edge of the table.
"Are you saying that I'm the only surviving man in this position?" He asked, half-joking and mixed with wary.
"Yeah," Yiseo replied easily, a soft giggle escaping him. "Pretty much."
Kiyonari could only smile awkwardly. He was well aware of the whispers—how their colleagues began to speculate behind closed doors, wondering what secret talent or hidden leverage he possessed to remain by Soo-hyun's side for so long. A cold-blooded Director with zero tolerance for incompetence. And yet, here Kiyonari was.
"But honestly," Yiseo continued, leaning forward slightly now, "I'm really impressed. You keep up with him. And that's not just an exaggerated compliment—I really meant it, Kihyun-sshi."
Kiyonari's lips curved into a shy grin, a faint glint of embarrassment flashing in his eyes. "Ah... thanks. I guess."
"And not only that," Yiseo added casually, "you give off such a strong fascinating smell."
Kiyonari froze. His smile stiffened, lips locked in place as his eyes widened just a fraction. For a split second, his entire body went rigid.
Yiseo asked, genuinely curious. "Do you use perfume, Kihyun-sshi?"
Kiyonari's heart skipped, then began pounding faster.
A smell? His thoughts spiraled instantly. Am I releasing pheromones without realizing it? No—there's no way.
It's too early for my rut. I've taken my medication. And my inhibitor is a higher dosage this time.
There was absolutely no logical explanation.
There's just no way, he reassured himself silently, even as unease crawled up his spine.
Outwardly, all he managed was an awkward practiced tight smile—carefully neutral. He said nothing, afraid that even speaking might betray his cover.
For a moment, the silence stretched thin. Then Yiseo seemed to realize something. His expression shifted, brows lifting slightly,
"Ah—sorry," he said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. "That probably sounded like I was prying into your personal life."
Relief washed over Kiyonari, subtle but immediate.
Yiseo added with a polite smile. "Please forget I asked."
"It's alright, Yiseo-sshi."
Kiyonari nodded, nervous beyond words. He gripped his fist down his lap.
*****
Soon after, the conversation moved on, and before he knew it, he was back at his desk, immersed once more in work. Yiseo never brought it up again, dismissing the topic entirely as a lapse in manners.
Still, long after the cafeteria chatter faded, Kiyonari couldn't shake the lingering tension beneath his skin.
He was so lost in his own thoughts that his voice trailed off mid-sentence.
Soo-hyun glanced up from the documents in his desk, one brow lifting slightly. He had been listening—at least partially—as his secretary laid out the details of a potential business deal with Daehan Construction, a well-established company known for its large scale urban development projects. Yet somewhere between profit margins and timelines, Kiyonari had simply stopped talking.
"Mr. Soo." Soo-hyun called, lips pursing faintly.
"Huh?"
Kiyonari snapped back fo reality, realization hitting him all at once. Soo-hyun was staring straight at him now, dark eyes narrowed, a faint scowl forming between his brows.
"I-I apologize, sir...!" Kiyonari blurted out, bowing his head slightly in reflex.
Soo-hyun exhaled quietly and pushed his chair back, standing up with unhurried grace. "That's enough. Call Eunji for me."
"I'm sorry, Director, but I still need to discuss the Cheongun Waterfront Redevelopment Proposal," Kiyonari said, hurriedly flipping through the papers in his hands as if the documents themselves could ground him.
Soo-hyun stepped closer
Before Kiyonari could react, Soo-hyun reached out, snatching the list from his hands. He leaned closer, head tilted, closing the distance between them. Kiyonari stiffened instantly, breath catching as he found his own reflection mirrored in Soo-hyun's dark, unreadable eyes.
"A-Ah... Director—"
"How many times do I need to repeat myself before you finally start listening to my orders?" Soo-hyun asked. His tone was soft, almost calm, but there was a cold edge beneath it that sent a shiver down Kiyonari's spine.
He didn't move.
His gaze betrayed him, drifting to Soo-hyun's lips—full, naturally red, and faintly glossy as if perpetually kissed by color. They looked soft, and supple. Almost distracting against the sharpness of Soo-hyun's features and the intensity of his gaze.
His lips... They look so pretty... and soft.
The thought slipped in uninvited.
Then a flashback hit him suddenly—of the night Soo-hyun had been unstable, when Kiyonari had forced him to take a suppressant. How close they had been. How their lips had brushed by accident, the warmth, and the softness. The way Kiyonari had shoved the memory aside back then, too consumed by worry and responsibility to process what it meant.
Now Soo-hyun was right in front of him again, staring at his face, close enough that Kiyonari could feel his presence, his breath, his quiet authority pressing in from all sides.
The silence stretched for too long.
Soo-hyun cleared his throat sharply. "Ahem."
[!!]
Kiyonari jolted as if shocked awake, gasping faintly as his eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry, Director," he stammered, words tumbling over one another. "Ah... um... I'll ask Eunji to come—"
"I want her here," Soo-hyun interrupted, straightening. "Now."
"Now?" Kiyonari echoed weakly.
Soo-hyun raised a brow.
"Ah—yes! Now, now...!" Kiyonari practically yelped, jerking away from him. He turned on his heel and rushed toward the door, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to escape.
Once in the corridor, he sped up, heart racing, his entire face burning red all the way to his ears. His thoughts were tangled mess—just like the situation he'd barely managed to flee.
You big idiot! What's wrong with you, Kiyonari?!
He screamed internally.
You've been out of it since earlier! Get your shit together, for fuck's sake...!
Not long after, when Kiyonari finally calmed down, he escorted Soo-hyun down to the parking area. He moved ahead first, opening the car door with practiced courtesy as Soo-hyun slipped inside without a word.
Once the door was securely closed, Kiyonari circled the vehicle and slid into the driver's seat.
"Let's go. I don't want to be late," Soo-hyun said from the backseat, already settling in, posture relaxed yet commanding.
Kiyonari nodded, hands gripping the steering wheel. "Yes, Director."
The engine hummed to life, and the car eased onto the road, smoothly weaving through traffic as Kiyonari maneuvered the wheels with steady precision. The city lights blurred past them, the silence inside the car broken only by the low sound of the engine and the occasional turn signal.
When they finally arrived at their destination, Kiyonari stepped out first, instinctively falling into place a step behind Soo-hyun as they approached the entrance of the restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, quiet and discreet. Clearly tailored for high-profile guests.
A waiter greeted them promptly and escorted them through a narrow corridor to a private room reserved for Soo-hyun's meeting with an important client.
Kiyonari stopped just outside the door.
He remained there, standing straight, attentive, ready to be called at the moment's notice.
As minutes passes, his eyes wandered, scanning the corridor out of habit rather than boredom. That was when he noticed it, a subtle movement near one corner of the hallway.
Someone was standing there.
Partially concealed behind a quartz pillar, the figure seemed out of place. Kiyonari's brows furrowed as he focused harder, trying to identify the individual. The person appeared to sense his attention, flinching slightly... and then hurried away.
Vanishing down the corridor before Kiyonari could get a clearer look.
Huh? Where'd he go?
Kiyonari shifted from his spot, taking a few cautious steps forward, careful not to draw unnecessary attention. He scanned the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone. Only a waitress pushing a cart stacked with delicate dishes rolled past him.
He hesitated, then spoke. "Excuse me?"
She paused and turned toward him. "Yes, sir?"
"Did you, by any chance, see anyone suspicious around here?" He asked carefully.
The woman blinked, visibly puzzled. "Anyone suspicious...?"
"Maybe someone walking around this area?"
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied politely. "This section is restricted. Only VIP members and staff are allowed to access these rooms."
"Oh..."
Kiyonari offered her a small smile. "Alright. Thank you." He bowed slightly, watching as she continued on and disappeared into one of the private rooms.
Once alone again, Kiyonari scanned the corridor one more time, eyes sharp and alert. Nothing was out of place.
Maybe it was just my imagination, he told himself.
With a quiet exhale, he dismissed the thought, returning to his position by the door.
He didn't know it yet. Only later would he realize, that fleeting glimpse hadn't been nothing at all.
It was a warning sign.