Chapter 14

***

The ominous premonition he’d felt in the shower cemented into a painful reality after just a few steps. Today, the condition of his ankle was absolutely abysmal. Gi-hyeon stared down at his left foot.

—Symptoms like this are overwhelmingly psychogenic. You haven’t psychologically overcome the trauma of the injury. It entirely depends on your own mindset. From a rehabilitation standpoint, Dr. So, you probably understand this better than I do. You must have already known these symptoms were psychosomatic.

That was the diagnosis delivered by the Rehabilitation Medicine Specialist, a senior colleague of Lee Beom-hee’s. The doctor had been entirely correct. What crippled Gi-hyeon wasn’t the physical remnant of the injury, but the deep, psychological scar it had violently carved into his mind. On days when the nightmares resurfaced, like today, that invisible scar throbbed with excruciating intensity.

Physically, the ankle—which had been violently snapped completely backward—had fully healed ages ago. Years had bled by since the day they had driven metal pins into his bone and waited for the fractures to knit back together. Sure, it ached faintly when it rained, but that was the extent of it. Since he meticulously maintained his rehab exercises, that dull ache barely even registered on his pain scale anymore.

“…”

Despite his sturdy sneakers firmly supporting the joint against the plush hotel carpet, Gi-hyeon limped heavily, every step looking dangerously precarious. He had just stepped out of his suite, yet he was already profoundly exhausted. Was this relentless, suffocating fatigue simply the unavoidable burden every corporate slave was condemned to carry, or was it something else…?

“Mr. So Gi-hyeon, right this way.”

The staff at the premium Korean restaurant knew his name. That fact alone was staggering. Compared to a titan like Jo Yeon-oh, Gi-hyeon was an absolute nobody, yet simply sharing a dining table with the man instantly elevated him to VIP status.

Enduring the bitter irony of that privilege, Gi-hyeon followed the impeccably suited manager. The man slid open the sliding door to a private dining room, offering a polite bow and wishing him a pleasant meal. Returning a slight nod, Gi-hyeon couldn’t help but cynically wonder what constituted a ‘pleasant time.’ After all, the person waiting for him inside was Jo Yeon-oh.

“Sit.”

Unlike earlier, when he had been lounging in athletic wear, the Alpha was now dressed in a sharp suit. Did he seriously have to work on the weekend? If he was so damn busy, he should have just left earlier. Why force this lunch on me? Annoyed that his master plan to lazily inhale room service and sleep the day away had been entirely derailed, Gi-hyeon let out a heavy sigh.

As he approached the opposite side of the table, Yeon-oh—who hadn’t even bothered glancing up when Gi-hyeon entered—suddenly scowled fiercely.

“You’re doing it again.”

“…”

Knowing exactly what the Alpha was referring to, Gi-hyeon simply pulled out his chair and sat down without a word. Sitting across from him, Jo Yeon-oh was wearing the tailored vest of a three-piece suit. The silk ascot tied around his neck in place of a formal tie slightly softened the rigid ‘weekend corporate slave’ aesthetic. The Alpha stared intensely at Gi-hyeon.

“What the hell is the actual cause? I’ve never heard of an accident aftereffect lingering for this long.”

Of course you haven’t.

The incident happened five long years ago. Jo Yeon-oh genuinely believed it had been a simple, tragic accident. He was operating under the fabricated truth that Gi-hyeon had slipped on a mudslide during a monsoon field training exercise, plummeting down a steep ravine and snapping his ankle in the fall. From that deeply flawed perspective, Gi-hyeon’s severe, chronic limping likely seemed like a pathetic overreaction.

It was understandable that the Alpha felt frustrated; watching someone violently limp every single time they had a bad dream over a ‘simple accident’ that wasn’t anyone’s fault would test anyone’s patience.

Dabbing his perfectly clean lips with a pristine white linen napkin, Yeon-oh spoke. The bezel of the luxury watch strapped to his wrist caught the midday sun streaming through the window, glinting sharply.

“I keep telling you to get psychological counseling.”

“If I get something like that on my medical record, my license will be revoked.”

While seeking basic therapy absolutely wouldn’t trigger a license revocation, Gi-hyeon threw out the blatant lie purely to escape the suffocating topic. Hearing the deadpan, emotionless excuse, Yeon-oh picked up his brass chopsticks and let out a low chuckle, looking incredibly amused.

“I already told you I’d assign someone to you personally. Completely off the books, no records left behind, entirely for your benefit.”

Gi-hyeon offered no response. The statement was entirely true. Jo Yeon-oh frequently orchestrated massive, sweeping maneuvers entirely for So Gi-hyeon’s benefit.

Case in point: he had aggressively bulldozed his way into managing the Foundation’s affairs—a sector he previously had zero interest in—solely to forcefully acquire the rehabilitation hospital for Gi-hyeon. That singular, aggressive move had violently awakened his dormant cousins, triggering a massive wave of panic and infighting across the lesser branches of the Haeseong family. Up until that point, they had naively assumed the sleeping dragon would simply lie dormant and lazy forever.

I know all that. I know every single thing you do is driven by a terrifying level of devotion… Yet, moments like this inevitably dragged Gi-hyeon’s thoughts back to the goldfish tank sitting in his living room. Are those fish genuinely happy swimming in endless circles inside that tiny glass box? Sure, a life where premium food magically rained down on a precise schedule was infinitely safer and less exhausting… but since Gi-hyeon had never experienced life outside the Alpha’s suffocating tank, he couldn’t possibly know.

“Just eat,” Gi-hyeon finally muttered. It was the only response he could muster.

Yeon-oh nodded, returning his attention to his meal. As he chewed, the sharp flex of his masseter muscle was mesmerizing. Despite possessing delicately sculpted features that leaned far closer to breathtaking beauty than rugged handsomeness, the striking masculinity of his face was violently anchored by his dark, aggressive eyebrows and the razor-sharp jawline plummeting straight down from his earlobe.

Opening the lid of his brass bowl, Gi-hyeon took a bite of the sticky rice mixed with ginkgo nuts. Predictably, Jo Yeon-oh instantly began micromanaging.

“Eat your vegetables first. Stop shoveling just rice into your mouth and finishing your meal in three flat minutes.”

Gi-hyeon offered a half-hearted nod, but the floodgates had already opened. The Alpha’s relentless nagging commenced. Don’t you ever run off without telling me again. If you’re going to stay in a hotel, at least stay at a Haeseong property. I’ll buy you a VIP membership so you can go get a proper spa massage… The barrage of demands was endless.

Yet, even while delivering the relentless lecture, the Alpha maintained utterly flawless dining etiquette, never once exposing the food in his mouth—a true testament to his upbringing as a chaebol heir.

While Gi-hyeon’s own table manners were impeccably strict—forged under the oppressive thumb of his schoolteacher father and the rigid discipline of the Military Academy—he couldn’t replicate the elegant, effortless grace Yeon-oh displayed while consuming massive portions.

To make matters infinitely worse, Yeon-oh continuously hijacked the meal, aggressively transferring healthy side dishes Gi-hyeon actively avoided directly onto his plate. Grilled deodeok root skewers and a chilled jellyfish salad with cucumbers were the primary offenders. While Gi-hyeon managed to choke down the chilled salad without much complaint, he stared at the grilled deodeok and released a heavy sigh. He absolutely hated the taste.

Catching the exact moment of hesitation with terrifying accuracy, Yeon-oh clicked his tongue. “You seriously refuse to eat anything that’s actually good for your body.”

“Please, just stuff your own face and live a long, healthy life.”

Despite Gi-hyeon’s deadpan, emotionless curse, Yeon-oh merely chuckled in amusement. Contrary to his mature, stoic exterior, Gi-hyeon was an incredibly picky eater who viewed food strictly as fuel for survival, leading to constant friction with the Alpha over his diet.

It was Jo Yeon-oh who forcibly dragged him across the country every single season, aggressively shoving rare, seasonal delicacies down his throat. On his days off, Gi-hyeon desperately wanted nothing more than to rot in bed, but the Alpha relentlessly refused to leave him in peace. Whenever Gi-hyeon finally snapped in sheer annoyance, Yeon-oh would simply patronize him like a petulant child, leaving Gi-hyeon utterly exasperated.

“Stop giving your hyung such a hard time, Gi-hyeon. Dating a kid three months younger than me is really breaking my back.”

“Right. Do you have a fucking conscience? Dating a literal child who’s three whole months younger than you?” Gi-hyeon deadpanned.

Yeon-oh completely abandoned his meal, covering his mouth with his hand as he burst into genuine, boisterous laughter. Because he still possessed the childhood habit of scrunching his nose when he laughed really hard, the dark beauty mark on the bridge of his nose folded inward, giving him an incredibly wicked, bewitching aura. Even when laughing with pure, unadulterated joy, that single beauty mark made the man look devastatingly decadent.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Just eat up. Manager Yoo already booked the hotel spa for you, so go get a proper massage when we’re done here.”

“…”

Gi-hyeon offered absolutely no response. It was infinitely more strategic to keep his mouth shut, knowing full well the stubborn bastard would violently bulldoze his way through any objections regardless. Yeon-oh had undoubtedly anticipated Gi-hyeon would be limping today after witnessing the nightmare, preemptively booking the spa to manage the fallout.

While a simple massage was completely useless against psychosomatic pain, Gi-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to blatantly disrespect the sheer effort Jo Yeon-oh constantly poured into him.

The grilled skewers—cooked over premium Cheongsong charcoal and pine needles—were paired with high-grade pine mushrooms, creating a truly spectacular flavor profile.

Gi-hyeon chewed slowly, his jaw moving with mechanical lethargy.

I just want to run away somewhere.

***