The place Kwon Yido headed for was the garden entrance where the car was waiting. Normally, there would have been a wedding car and a honeymoon trip, but he had said such things would be skipped. Of course, soone this busy wouldn’t want to waste ti taking a political spouse on so leisurely trip.
Yido got into the car first, and I followed into the seat beside him. It was a private sedan, the driver’s seat separated from the back, clearly a custom-made model. Father had the sa car, but its interior was nothing like this.
“....”
“....”
Perhaps it was natural—no words passed between us. I fiddled with my tie and looked out the window. The darkening scenery outside made fatigue and various worries creep in.
How much {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} of that conversation had Yido overheard? It hadn’t been long, but there were troubleso parts. Like the phrase “that fucking alpha bastard.”
“...Excuse , but I’d like to ask you sothing.”
I opened carefully, turning my gaze toward him. Once we arrived at the house, I doubted I’d have the chance to speak. Better to ask now, than keep fretting.
Yido glanced up from the tablet PC he had been working on. It felt like permission to speak, so I asked as cautiously as I could.
“From where did you start listening?”
He knew what I was referring to. As expected, without a flicker of change in his expression, he answered.
“From the part where he said, ‘You really are an oga, falling for that fucking alpha bastard.’”
“....”
So he had heard. Minjae’s aim had been to insult , but in the end, the “alpha bastard” he ant was Yido himself. Hardly ideal—this was the one person I needed to be on best terms with.
“I apologize.”
I offered him a formal apology at once. He blinked, as if to prompt to continue.
“My younger brother is still a student and very immature. I’ll apologize in his stead.”
I didn’t add that I would scold him or defend him by saying he hadn’t ant it. It was better to simply acknowledge it than to make excuses that could backfire.
“No need. It doesn’t matter.”
Unexpectedly, his reply ca lightly. The problem was the indifference of what followed.
“Whether Haesin’s younger son likes so unrelated oga or not, it isn’t my concern.”
“....”
Flat words, yet brutally cutting. From that one overheard exchange, he seed to have inferred far too much. I hadn’t wanted to hear from soone else the truth I tried so hard to ignore.
“At that age, people often lose their heads over whoever they like.”
His words sounded generous, but his expression was anything but. He wasn’t empathizing with Minjae—he was simply saying it wasn’t his problem.
“...I’m sorry.”
Awkwardly, I offered another apology. Yido turned back to his tablet as if to end the conversation. With a faint, derisive curve of his lips, he muttered:
“I like that you don’t make useless excuses.”
With that curt evaluation, no further words passed between us. I clenched my fists and stared out the window, while Yido gave not a single glance. The ring on my finger suddenly felt suffocating.
***
The house I was to live in was one of Yido’s grandest estates. Three stories above ground, with a basent garage big enough to hold all his cars. Bigger than Father’s main residence. And the space allotted to was a small room on the third floor.
“I’ll tell you the rules of this house.”
The servant who led to my room explained in a businesslike tone. My permitted areas were my room and the kitchen. I was to remain quiet and never, under any circumstances, bring friends or family.
“You may use anything inside your room as you wish.”
It could almost be called generous. Though tucked away in the farthest corner, the room had everything—bathroom and dressing room included. Far better than the place I’d grown up. Still, it felt less like kindness and more like a warning not to wander.
“als will be provided at every alti. If there’s sothing you’d like, you may tell the chef.”
“...Thank you for your consideration.”
I smiled politely, answering with perfect manners. There was no need to make enemies of the staff. After saying to call if I needed anything, the servant left. I loosened my tie and walked into the center of the room.
“Well... not bad.”
It wasn’t so windowless closet. Just as expected: small, with little besides a bed. But all I needed was clothing anyway—more space would have been wasted luxury.
I went straight to the bathroom, took off the suit, and showered. For a mont I hesitated over what to do with the clothes, then hung them carefully. They weren’t mine; I didn’t dare be careless.
The bathroom wasn’t large, with only a shower booth. I wanted to sink into a bath, but there was none—and even if there had been, I wasn’t in a position to relax like that.
Afterward I changed into loungewear. The suitcase Mr. Kim had packed held a few clothes and books. No wonder I hadn’t seen him during the ceremony—he must have gone to my officetel to collect them.
I didn’t unpack completely, just arranged a few necessities in the dressing room. So little, it barely counted as unpacking. What I really needed were the sleeping pills.
Sitting on the bed, I chewed three pills without water. I was used to the bitter taste now. Luckily they were small. Even if I’d needed water, I wouldn’t have wanted to go downstairs.
“Should I say good night...?”
I checked the ti, hesitating. Should I? But I recalled his words before I’d co upstairs and shook my head.
‘Don’t bother unless I call for you. You can go about your daily life, but when I look for you, you must always be available.’
He must want to keep as quiet as possible here. That was why he had tossed those words at before going up the stairs. I didn’t know which room was his—no reason to offer a good night.
With the decision made, I lay down. Exhaustion weighed so heavily that, despite my chronic insomnia, drowsiness ca quickly. I would wake in three hours, but if I could at least have a short, deep sleep, it would be sothing.
“....”
Co to think of it, I hadn’t eaten a single al today. No wonder my body felt so drained. What ti should I go down tomorrow? With those last thoughts, I drifted off.
***
Life with Yido was not as bad as I had feared. More precisely, none of the things I had feared ca to pass. No blows, no forcing to spread my legs, no daily stream of abuse.
I had taken leave from work, but Yido went to the office every day. He left in the morning and ca ho late at night. I spent the day in my room, and when I heard he had returned, I would go down to the first floor.
‘...Why are you here?’
The first ti I greeted him, he looked at with incomprehension. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized from head to toe, as if to gauge my intentions. When I answered that I had only co because I’d heard he was back, he gave a faint, mocking laugh.
‘Even to flatter, you have to...’
All I had wanted was to greet him. I thought it best to act friendly. If he called that flattery, I had no argunt.
‘I did sothing unnecessary.’
With an awkward smile, I apologized. Perhaps it was my imagination, but his expression had looked even more displeased at my apology. A fleeting mont, too short to be sure.
‘If it bothers you, I’ll stay in my room from now on.’
He didn’t answer at once. Handing his bag to a servant, his brow furrowed. After a pause, his voice ca out cold.
‘I’m saying there’s no need for this. You act as if you really were my spouse.’
So he didn’t expect to be a supportive partner. Whatever his reasons for marrying , he didn’t need warmth.
‘I’ll be careful from now on.’
I said it obediently, yet again his expression soured. He passed by and went upstairs. I didn’t see him again that night.
For the next four days, I stopped going down to greet him. I shut myself in my room, reading or staring blankly out at the garden. Conversation dwindled; we barely crossed paths for more than five minutes.
“...Rain?”
Then Friday morning, heavy rain began to fall, unforecasted. As always, I sat by the window, watching the garden. Through the open window drifted every kind of wet scent: damp soil, fresh grass, the occasional tang of trees.
“Slls like his pheromones...”
I held out my palm to the rain. Just faintly, it was there. Yido’s pheromones resembled rainy air—like trees in autumn rain, a swaying fragrance steeped in dominance.
“...I’ll have to tell him soon.”
Two days left, before my leave ended. Monday, I would return to the office and catch up on everything I’d missed. Likely, I would have to call in sick. But before that, I had sothing I needed to tell Yido.
“That suppressants don’t work...”
Because my pheromone glands were malford, nothing ca out except during heat. Yido didn’t know, but as a result suppressants were ineffective. At least my cycles were regular. The problem was that Sunday—two days away—was exactly when my next heat would fall.
“....”
What if he thinks I’m defective?
Whatever he expected of , a spouse whose suppressants failed could only be trouble. Though, if what he wanted was precisely that side of , it might work in my favor. The odds were half and half. I was prepared to explain simply and directly that my defect was not a serious one.
“Picked up a defective product...”
As I brooded, a knock sounded. A servant calling to lunch. As promised, the chef always prepared the Korean dishes I had requested.
“Yes, I’ll be right out.”
I rose, setting aside the book I had rested on my knee onto the window ledge. A novel, one of those Mr. Kim had thoughtfully packed.
“...?”
But the mont I stepped, my vision spun. Like the blood rushing from my head, dizziness overtook . I thought, low blood pressure? But then—heat surged from my lower belly.
“Ugh...!”
Instinctively, I clutched my stomach and collapsed. My legs gave out; I couldn’t rise. My heart pounded, blood racing through every vein.
“...No.”
The scent of flowers. Familiar, thick, rising like smoke. My fingertips trembled, the hairs on my body stood on end.
It was heat. The cycle that had never once broken. No suppressant could stop it; reason could not withstand it.
“...Hhh...”
Curling into myself, I pressed my forehead to the floor. The sudden flood of desire was painful. Why had it co early? I had no ti to ask—moisture seeped down between my legs.
“Haah... haah...”
What would Yido say, seeing like this? Without explanation, just an oga in heat—how contemptuously would he look at ?
Even dazed, I could clearly imagine it. I wanted to stop it sohow, but my body refused to rise. The overflow of need left drool trailing from my lips.
“Hhhk...”
If it could be called fortunate, a servant soon entered. A beta, surely—unable to hide his panic, he rushed to call others. They helped to the bed, but even then I writhed, the heat unrelieved.
Yido returned hours later. By then, the servant had brought suppressants in every form, and I had shaken my head wildly at least five tis. I couldn’t even explain why they didn’t work—I could barely breathe.
“You refuse to take suppressants?”
He entered, voice cold as he looked at the scene. When the servant explained, he sighed in irritation. As the weight of his pheromones pressed down, suffocating , he let out a mocking word.
“Pulling every cheap trick.”
He strode over, seizing my jaw. His grip was strong enough to shatter bone—I couldn’t escape. Blinking through the haze, I heard his voice, colder than ever, call my na.
“Jung Sejin.”
His pheromones crushed . I couldn’t breathe. The suffocating presence tore at my lungs, scraped at every inch of my skin.
“Whatever you expected... I won’t give it to you. Behave yourself.”
“Hhh...”
He must have thought I was trying to lure him with my heat. Nothing else explained this suffocating display. No—it’s only that suppressants don’t work. I wanted to say it, but only tears ca.
“What about his als...”
“If he won’t eat, force him. As for the suppressants, call a doctor and give them by injection.”
With only that, Yido left. The door closing clicked like betrayal. Worse than that was my body, aroused even by the faint trace of his pheromones.
The rest blurred. The servants tried to force food into , then brought in a doctor. Three of them held down as I thrashed, and I took two injections in my arm.
“...Hhh.”
Of course, the injected suppressants had no effect either. I endured another full day of heat, vomiting more than once from the excess doses.
And through it all, until the very end, Kwon Yido never once looked at .
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