Snow fell without end. The world turned entirely white, even the breath I exhaled fogging my vision. The snow poured so heavily that I could barely see ahead, piling up on my head and shoulders with every step I took.
“Hah... hahh...”
I walked endlessly through that street, through a deserted alley. Breathing hard, I pressed forward without rest. In nothing but a thin T-shirt, pants that didn’t fit, and bare feet without shoes, I stepped ceaselessly into the snow.
I had left the house. On such a bitterly cold winter’s day, that place so awful I couldn’t even call it ho. A cramped room with a moldy floor, liquor bottles rolling around.
My parents had never existed. Why they hadn’t, I’d never been able to ask anyone. From the mont my mories began, there had only been that person. And when I beca aware, I was always being beaten. “A boy being an oga? You’re just like your mother, that sly bitch,” he would say, with every manner of curse.
So I left. Because I hated the mont my stomach was so empty I vomited bile. Because I hated the days when I was too weak to resist and could only be beaten. Because when it was cold, I would collapse into sleep as if fainting, then wake burning with fever.
At the young age of nine, it was the most desperate struggle I could manage. Leaving that person drunk and passed out, running through the half-open door.
But outside—the place I thought would be my escape—was harsher than anything. The streets were too wide, and the season that pressed against my skin was so cold it hurt. My feet no longer felt anything; I didn’t even realize they had been cut when scraped by stones.
“What on earth... what’s with that kid?”
“A child alone...”
“Shouldn’t soone call the police?”
When I ca out into the busy downtown, people whispered as they looked at . A few even spoke to , but I ignored them all. Because if I said I had left ho, I thought they would drag back to that place.
I didn’t know how long I walked. My cold body began to burn with heat. Or maybe it was only my imagination. My vision blurred, my consciousness flickering in and out.
I might die, I thought, even at that young age. I even accepted it—it didn’t seem so bad, though I knew nothing. Still, I was afraid, so I couldn’t stop my steps.
“Kid, you shouldn’t co this way.”
Then, in front of a large building, I saw people dressed in all black. n standing with their hands behind their backs scolded sternly. When I turned my cloudy eyes, I saw a man stepping out of a black car.
“Go that way—hey!”
It must have been instinct. I thought he was different from the ordinary passersby. He had so many people around him, wore clothes that looked expensive at a glance, and was getting out of a car bigger than anything I’d ever seen. Maybe soone like him could take in.
With what felt like superhuman strength, I pushed past the n in black and approached him. Unlike , standing bareheaded in the falling snow, he wore a thick coat while soone held an umbrella over him.
“...What is this?”
I grabbed at his coat. My vision was already so blurred I couldn’t see his face. All I could tell was that he was looking down at , frowning.
“Uh...”
No voice ca out, but I managed to open my mouth. Because I thought if I lost this chance, I would have to go back to that awful place. I didn’t think hard about what to say, but the words ca spilling out.
“I’m an oga.”
That person had always said it. A worthless oga like would eventually be sold off. That in a world where rare traits were precious, I’d at least fetch the price of liquor.
“...An oga?”
When the man asked that, I felt relieved by two things. First, his voice didn’t sound negative at all. And second, he held my collapsing body warmly in his arms.
That was the day I was first adopted by my father.
***
The man took straight to a large hospital and had blood drawn. They asured my height and weight, ran this and that test, and asked the doctor three tis if I was truly an oga. When the doctor confird it, he pressed twice more to check for defects.
And then he brought to a house so big I couldn’t see the end even with my head lifted. Just crossing the garden took a long ti, and the entryway where I took off my shoes was larger than the whole place I had lived before.
“You’re back?”
Maybe because the house was so big, there were more people inside than I imagined. People in identical uniforms, a middle-aged man with a kindly face. A boy standing at his side, and a woman looking displeased.
“You can’t just pick up a child...”
“Pick up? He’s heaven-sent.”
The pale-skinned, red-lipped woman couldn’t hide her concern. She kept pressing—what about the parents, what if problems arose later, why make such a rash decision? But the man laughed heartily and laid his hand on my shoulder.
“He’s a gift for our company.”
A gift. The word sounded thrilled. Compared to all the things I’d ever been called before—brat, trash, bastard—it was far better.
“From now on, call Father.”
For the first ti, I was allowed to use a title I’d never spoken before. For the first ti, I wore warm clothes. I ate until I was full, and slept deeply under a quilt stuffed with cotton. No one hit , no one cursed at .
“It was easier than I thought.”
The man I had lived with was said to be a distant relative. After my parents died, he had taken in reluctantly, always thinking of as a burden. My father said casually that when he went to fetch , the man handed over without resistance.
“A beggar bastard. Typical uneducated scum, selling off a precious oga for nothing.”
He hadn’t said it to . It was just conversation between Father and Mother. Of course, Father knew I was hearing everything.
That was how I ca to live as the adopted son of Chairman Jung Cheol-ho. I learned table manners, speech, even Hangul all over again. I was trained not to react no matter what I heard.
“...Hi.”
Through it all, there was a boy about four years old. He was always hiding behind the middle-aged man—Father’s son, Minjae. His pretty face resembled his mother’s, as did the wary look in his eyes.
“I’ll be in your care, Minjae.”
It wasn’t long before Minjae called “hyung.” By then I had grown used to the house. My scars disappeared, and I grew quickly day by day. The occasional loneliness, I dismissed as a luxury of comfort.
The next year, Mother had another child. Ten months later, Seoyoung was born. Father, happier than anyone, ca ho early every day. A harmonious family, a perfect household without lack. As for , the foreign body wedged inside, the only attention I received was this:
“Has your secondary gender manifested yet?”
I knew what Father wanted wasn’t a son, but an oga. His eyes sparkled each day with the desire to get his return.
Ti passed quickly, and soon it was nearly ti for to enter middle school. Seoyoung, once toddling, could now speak simply. Minjae, once affectionate, now teased with petty mischief. Father grew bored of , and Mother and I still didn’t speak. It was then I went through my first heat cycle.
***
What happens when you realize that the jewel you saved is nothing but a stone? When the money spent polishing and refining it cannot be recovered? When the inflated expectation bursts, and all that’s left is a stone you cannot discard?
As soon as I turned twenty, Father drove out under the pretext of independence, into an officetel near the university. He probably just didn’t want in the house any longer. Even so, he didn’t forget to assign guards under the excuse of “protection.”
I graduated at the top of every sester without taking leave. I completed all credits in advance and even studied abroad. I beca exactly the son Father wanted. A parachute, yes, but one that looked respectable, until I rose to the position of division head.
“Sejin, a marriage proposal has co for you.”
And in the spring of my twenty-ninth year, Father finally achieved the goal he had raised for. With no warning, no explanation, he simply announced that my wedding was scheduled for next Saturday.
“A good thing. They’re willing to take in a half-broken oga like you.”
All I could say was that I understood. There was no need to ask who it was, or why they chose . I only thought, So this is really the end, and nodded quietly.
The one surprise was that the partner was Seonho Group.
“Division Head, I heard you’re getting married!”
“Congratulations! Since when have you been dating?”
“As expected, capable people are different.”
The news spread nationwide overnight. Seonho Group had pushed articles, branding our marriage. The alpha I had never once t was transford into my secret lover and lifelong spouse.
“Seonho asked for your clothing and ring sizes.”
Mr. Kim said Seonho Group was handling everything. They would prepare all my attire, the wedding ring, everything to their standard. I went to a shop, was asured from head to toe, even my ring size for the first ti.
“Know your place. You’re being sold off.”
Minjae sought out whenever he could, making a scene. “What, you’re going to spread your legs for so alpha bastard? You can’t even function as an oga, and you’re getting married?”
“Who knows. Maybe I’ll spread my legs. Or maybe I’ll just open my mouth and that’ll be the end of it.”
My worsening insomnia made it hard to endure his tantrums. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t escape the nights where I couldn’t even dream. The sleeping pills Father carelessly tossed at were, of course, useless.
“Still, I guess I’m the only one who cares about you.”
Honestly, I thought maybe it was for the best. That Minjae, who had never seen as family, would let go of his obsession through my marriage. That the gaze which grew heavier each year would no longer fall on .
“Mr. Jung Sejin, this way please.”
On the wedding day, I went early to Myeongseong Hotel. Before dawn, after another sleepless night. In the suite, the staff treated like a doll, arranging my hair and clothes.
A white suit. Hair slicked back neatly. A boutonniere matching a bouquet of lilies of the valley.
“As expected of my son.”
When I arrived at the waiting room in the Yeongbingwan, Father couldn’t hide his satisfaction at seeing perfected. Whether it was he was proud of, or himself for raising , I didn’t know. But Minjae, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) standing beside him, only spat one thing before storming out.
“Fuck, it looks like shit.”
I agreed. Not about appearances, but because it was too much for . A look crafted for show—it felt unbearably awkward.
“You’d better do well. Haesin’s future depends on you.”
I heard that line over and over until the ceremony began. For once, I wanted silence. But no one left alone. Only Mr. Kim stood by quietly, his eyes complicated.
“You know your father believes in you, right?”
“...Yes, Father.”
I nodded with my habitual smile. Father sighed in relief, then pulled sothing small from his pocket and held it out.
“Here, spray this before you go out.”
I didn’t need to open it to know what it was. As expected, the mont the cap ca off, a floral scent wafted up—the unmistakable artificial pheromone perfu. Staring blankly at it, I heard Father say confidently:
“Mr. Kim picked it out. It’ll work.”
I didn’t bother asking why Mr. Kim, a beta, should be trusted on that. I didn’t need to protest. The best I could do was obey and spray it.
Soon after, Father went off to greet guests. From the sound of it, he’d invited every prominent figure he could. Even Mr. Kim left, and I was the only one left in the empty waiting room.
“....”
Ironically, I felt lonely in the silence. I had wanted quiet so badly, yet once alone, searing solitude washed over . Maybe it was because the waiting room was so barren, so cold.
“Kwon Yido...”
That was my partner’s na, wasn’t it? He was three years older, soone I would never have crossed paths with otherwise. Handso, sharp in business, strict about separating work and private life, and said never to smile.
“...And that’s supposed to be a romance?”
People weren’t stupid. There was no way that Kwon Yido would marry for love. Maybe they knew it was a contract marriage and only pretended not to notice. Everyone knew to him even marriage was just a tool for business.
My hopes were small. That his hands wouldn’t be cruel. That he wouldn’t be violent in bed. Since I was destined to spread my legs anyway, I only hoped the process wouldn’t be painful.
Lost in thought, I heard the sliding door open. Soone entered, but I didn’t look up. It was probably Mr. Kim, or Minjae. No one else.
Click, click. The sound of shoes ca closer. Only when a pleasant woody scent reached , and subtle pheromones brushed the back of my neck, did I realize sothing was different. Real alpha pheromones, unlike anything I had ever felt.
“....”
I jerked my head up. A man in a black suit, similar in design to mine, filled my vision. Taller than anyone I’d ever t, his face so beautiful it didn’t feel real.
“....”
It was Kwon Yido. Executive director of Seonho Group, the man I’d only seen in newspapers, on the news, in every kind of dia. At only thirty-two, head of Seonho Electronics. Today, my husband-to-be.
“Jung Sejin?”
The low voice sent shivers down my skin. Resonant, distinctive—it even made my na sound different. His dark gaze lingered on my face, then slowly swept from head to toe.
It was an appraising look. He was valuing like an object. I snapped back to myself, stood, and smiled gently.
“I’m Jung Sejin.”
His eyes stayed on my face. With the smile I had practiced for years, I extended a hand. I narrowed my eyes kindly, and spoke softly, politely.
“I’ll be in your care.”
But he didn’t take my hand. He only glanced at it, then raised his eyes again. I felt naked under that gaze, and then his lips moved.
“So this is the oga they said was so good...”
His voice carried not the slightest trace of feeling. His eyes held no emotion either. His next words were utterly flat.
“Besides your face, there’s nothing worth looking at.”
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