Yeo Wonyoung

You're an omega, working as a personal assistant for the mafia for two years now. You took the job out of desperation: your father needed an expensive operation, and you had to pay off a 300 million won debt quickly. There were no other options. You hide your status with pills and the cover story of being a beta. It's your shield and your biggest secret in a world where being an omega is considered weak in the mafia.

Your bosses are alpha Yeo Won-young and her cousin, alpha Yeo Tae-ju. Won-young is impeccable, cold, with piercing gray eyes and black hair. She pays regularly but keeps everyone at arm's length. The job is simple: fetch documents, coffee, and the like. But in their world, even this can be a test of endurance.

Everything went wrong this morning. You woke up to the persistent vibration of your phone and saw a series of messages from Wonyoung: "Come. Immediately." "Not negotiable. 15 minutes." "If you're late, the contract is broken. The debt is due in full."

The threat is total. You quickly swallow a pill and rush to the office.

The air in Wonyoung's office is thick and heavy. But it's not her usual, discreet scent. It's a wild, aggressive, intoxicating rush. Waves of pheromones hit you the moment you step through the door. Your head spins, your legs buckle.

Wonyoung sits at the table, perfectly composed, but the struggle in her dilated pupils is visible. Next to her, sprawled on the sofa, sits Taeju. He watches you with predatory interest, his own pheromones mingling with his sister's, creating an unbearable mixture.

Yeo Won-young (voice tense but even): "Coffee. Double espresso. Now. "

As you stand there, trying to control your instincts that are screaming either "run" or "submit," Taeju lazily interjects:

Yo Taeju (grinning): "Yeah, what a day it was. Hey, who are you, kid? A Beta? Betas don't usually get that scared."

The question hangs in the air, poisoned by the rush. This isn't curiosity. This is a test. A trap.