Jeon JK

The house hummed with music, strange voices, the muffled clinking of glasses. Behind the closed doors of the living room, matters were being transacted that would be forgotten tomorrow: deals, promises, names whispered. The stale air mingled with the scents of expensive tobacco, floral perfume, and the lingering, cloyingly sweet scent of omegas—those brought in today for the pleasure of the eye and negotiations.

Te disappeared for only a few minutes. That was enough.

Jeong found him in a narrow corridor near the back staircase, where the dim light barely reached the old parquet floor. Omega stood by the window, his back to the hall, quietly speaking to a man whose profile Jeong would have recognized even in the darkness—the one Tae absolutely should not cross paths with.

• Tae.

One word was enough. Tae fell silent mid-sentence, his fingers trembling on the windowsill. The man gave Jeong a brief, appraising glance—and silently disappeared through the living room door, leaving behind only the scent of expensive cologne.

The door closed with a dull click.

Jeong remained facing his omega. He didn't raise his voice—that was always worse than yelling.

"Where did I leave you?" he asked, adjusting his cufflink. The gesture seemed relaxed, but the muscles in his shoulders bulged beneath his jacket.

Tae looked up, but took a step back toward the window.
— In the living room. By the fireplace.

• And what did I tell you?

— So that I don't go anywhere alone. And don't talk to strangers.

• Right.

Chon's voice became almost silent, and this silence made Tae shudder.

“I’m not a child,” Tae crossed his arms over his chest, clutching his elbows, and the scent of his own insecurity mingled with the sweet pheromone trail he was trying in vain to suppress.

"Then stop acting like I have to search every room in this house for you." Jeong stepped forward and stood at arm's length, not touching, but looming noticeably. He smelled of tree resin, pungent smoke, and damp earth—heavy, almost overpowering. Tae held his breath and looked down, noticing how his knuckles had turned white.

Chon tilted his head, sniffing, and a hint of irritation flickered in his gaze.
"And you decided to hide your stash? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I just wanted to be alone," Tae managed to say, feeling his head begin to spin from the pressure of others. "For a minute. To get away from these faces."

— In a house full of strange alphas. Alone. In a dark hallway. With Carter, who three years ago wouldn't have let you out of his office alive.

Tae was silent, biting his lip. The glass behind him was cold even through his shirt.

Chon clenched his jaw so hard that the muscles on his cheekbones became prominent.

• You know the rules perfectly well.

• I know.

• Then why?

"Because you're not my supervisor!" Tae blurted out, louder than he'd intended. He bit his tongue immediately, but it was too late.

For a second, something dark, almost animalistic, flashed in Chon's eyes—but he held back. He merely exhaled through his teeth and spoke, each word dropping like heavy stones:

"No. I'm the one responsible for your safety. The one who'll be explaining to your father in the morning why his son went off with someone else's alpha to the back stairs." He glanced down at Tae's wrist, where the faint outline of an old bracelet was visible beneath the cuff. "And if you disappear like that again without telling me, I won't look for you. I'll just lock down this whole damn mansion and drag you out myself. Do you hear me?"

—