Chapter 21

For a brief while, the fragile illusion of peaceful newlywed life endured.

Back in the corporate world, Jaeha sat at the head of the conference table, methodically walking Jaeho through the operational structure of the Yooshin Group. Under ordinary circumstances, when one executive replaced another, the secretarial staff handled the handover in its entirety. Lee Jaeha, however, did not trust his half-brother with so much as a scrap of paper.

“Why the hell does the electronics division need to give a shit about the pharmaceutical side?” Jaeho grumbled, flinging a file onto the table with a heavy thud.

“Because the home-use medical diagnostic kit currently under development at Yooshin Pharmaceutical depends entirely on a technical partnership with Yooshin Electronics. Surely you understand that much…”

“Ah, fuck.” Jaeho dragged a hand down his face, making no effort to conceal his exaggerated irritation.

Jaeha took no personal offense at the outburst, but the corporate hierarchy demanded a response. One sharp eyebrow rose as he deliberately released a measured trace of his dominant Alpha pheromones, allowing their oppressive weight to crash over the room.

When dealing with the family’s illegitimate son, Jaeha could not afford to overlook even the smallest transgression. The hierarchy between them had to be established with brutal clarity, leaving no room for the younger Alpha to mistake restraint for weakness and attempt to climb over him a second time. He felt no burning, visceral hatred toward Jaeho, but neither was he some saintly pushover willing to retreat from a fight delivered directly to his doorstep.

The crisp, suffocating scent of ash wood spread across the conference room, pressing down mercilessly on the inferior Alpha. Color drained rapidly from Jaeho’s face.

“A-ah… I didn’t mean to swear at you, hyung.”

“Associate Director Lee Jaeho.” Jaeha’s voice fell into a glacial calm. “Did you use such reckless, vulgar language in the boardroom while you were managing the Entertainment division?”

“Aw, come on… It wasn’t like that.”

Jaeho lowered his head and muttered under his breath with the exact petulance of a delinquent high school student dragged into the faculty office after a brawl. Jaeha clicked his tongue in quiet disdain.

Lee Jaeho was not so thoroughly incompetent that he was beyond salvation. He had received the premier education expected of a scion of the Yooshin dynasty, and thanks to Kim Ranhee’s ruthless curation of an elite support staff to protect him from his own shortcomings, his next quarterly results would probably avoid repeating the catastrophe of his early tenure at Yooshin Entertainment.

He had achieved no miraculous breakthroughs in the entertainment sector, but he had not burned the division to the ground either. The films he had approved had, at the very least, turned a modest profit.

It was also true that he had slept with several entertainers cast in those same productions. Since the actors had knowingly used the young executive as a stepping stone to secure leading roles, however, the arrangement remained, in its own sordid fashion, mutually beneficial.

Jaeha released a quiet, exhausted sigh. “Pull yourself together. Your strategic vision is dangerously narrow, so hold exhaustive meetings with your senior staff before making any unilateral business decision. As long as you follow that basic protocol, you may avoid causing a major disaster.”

“What kind of fucking insult is that?”

Jaeho’s features twisted with indignation. He appeared genuinely humiliated, likely because he could not logically refute a single syllable of Jaeha’s assessment.

Jaeha studied the younger man’s mortified expression for a long moment before speaking again. “Does Father still swing his golf club at you?”

Chairman Lee Ik-hyeong had never once raised a hand against his eldest son. Part of Jaeha’s immunity came from being the spitting image of the Chairman’s late, beloved wife, but the primary reason was far simpler. Jaeha had never committed a single act worthy of reprimand in his life.

He was a flawless machine.

The chairman, however, became an entirely different creature when dealing with Jaeho. He had beaten the boy frequently. The abuse had begun when Jaeho was still a toddler, carving such severe trauma into him that he developed a stutter that did not fade until elementary school. Had Kim Ranhee not stood in the middle of the estate courtyard with a kitchen knife pressed to her own throat, shrieking a manic warning at the Chairman, young Jaeho might have been permanently disabled by the old man’s violence.

After that suicide threat, the beatings were reserved for identifiable corporate or social infractions. Even so, Jaeha knew that the Chairman still summoned Jaeho to his executive suite over the slightest accounting error and mercilessly struck him with a nine-iron.

Admittedly, Jaeha had also disciplined Jaeho physically when the boy attempted to usurp his corporate position. His punishments, however, had been calculated and clinical, never the indiscriminate, rage-fueled violence their father wielded like a weapon.

On occasion, the two half-brothers even sparred together.

Years earlier, Jaeha had suggested that Jaeho learn proper boxing if he genuinely wanted to defend himself. The younger Alpha had begrudgingly followed him to the same private gym. Jaeho’s footwork had improved significantly in recent months, but he still lacked the precision needed to slip a proper jab through Jaeha’s impenetrable guard.

At the sudden mention of their father’s abuse, Jaeho’s eyes flushed a vivid, furious red. He glared across the table, his gaze blazing with the raw heat of humiliation.

“What, because you don’t get hit, I look pathetic to you? Fuck, even though you’re some so-called Alpha getting fucked by another Alpha, you son of a bitch, you think you can look down on me, you sh… Ack!”

Jaeha moved with terrifying speed. He rose from his chair without the slightest change in expression, crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, clamped his fingers around Jaeho’s ear, and wrenched it sharply upward.

“W-what the hell are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Correct that pathetic habit of swearing whenever you feel panicked or cornered.” Jaeha’s voice remained soft, his grip uncompromising. “Do not give Father another excuse to draw blood.”

Jaeho’s shouting about his ear meant nothing to him. Once the instruction had been delivered, Jaeha released his grip. Jaeho stumbled backward, clutching his bright red ear and hissing through the pain.

“Argh! You could’ve just used your damn words! Why the hell are you acting like a lunatic?”

“Associate Director Lee Jaeho. Lower your voice.”

Jaeha’s gaze had already returned to the file on the table.

Jaeho’s frantic breathing hitched. “S-so… what you entrusted to me was… something you actually consider important?”

Jaeha did not bother looking up at the pathetic stutter. “That’s correct. Even you, Associate Director, should understand that a substantial portion of my biological mother’s stake was invested in Yooshin.”

“Th-that, I know, but…”

Ignoring the mumbling, Jaeha checked his watch. He needed to leave the office before rush-hour traffic locked the roads into gridlock. He planned to stop at the market on the way home and prepare dinner before Jang Taegeon arrived.

Lately, Jaeha had been attending cooking classes sporadically. He could easily have hired a private instructor to come to the house, but attending in person allowed him to purchase fresh ingredients and gather housekeeping advice from the older Omegas who frequented the course.

It was an absurd double life. A large, dominant Alpha stood among them with a floral apron tied around his waist, listening intently as he peeled potatoes.

Today’s lesson was braised chicken with taro. He was genuinely looking forward to it, mostly because he could not imagine how the flavors would meld.

While Jaeha’s thoughts drifted toward the evening’s menu, Jaeho suddenly erupted, pouting as though he had spent the last several minutes stewing in his own resentment.

“The thing I find most fucked up about you is this.” Contempt dripped from Jaeho’s voice. “You sit there after doing absolutely nothing for years, and then the second some Alpha bastard tells you to drop everything and come running, you agree without a second thought. You think all of this is some fucking joke, you asshole.”

You haven’t been beaten enough lately, have you?

Jaeha placed the folder on the table and rose, deciding it was time to correct his half-brother’s behavioral habits once and for all. A brief glance at his watch confirmed that he had roughly fifteen minutes to spare.

He did not remove his wedding ring.

He never did.

Instead, he curled his fingers into a tight fist, his knuckles whitening as he advanced on Jaeho.

“Hey, hey! If you’re going to hit me, at least take off your ring…!”

Jaeha disregarded the plea. Just as Jaeho instinctively flinched and raised his guard, the desk phone blared to life with a shrill, mechanical ring. Jaeha glanced at the utterly subdued Lee Jaeho before turning his attention to the desk.

[Chairman Jang Changsik]

The name displayed on the screen was as welcome as a plague. Jaeha shifted his body to shield the display from Jaeho’s prying eyes, slipped the phone into his jacket pocket, and strode toward the elevator without looking back.

Realizing that the attack had been postponed, Jaeho cautiously lowered his arms and called after him. “Hey… Where are you going? Let’s have dinner together today.”

“Eat alone. After you finish your homework.”

Jaeha did not slow down. The moment he stepped into the corridor, he answered the call.

“Yes, Grandfather.”

—“Ah, Executive Director Lee! Have you been well?”

“Yes. Thanks to you, I’ve been getting by without any discomfort.”

Jang Changsik released a hearty, booming laugh. His voice brimmed with theatrical goodwill, saturated with the satisfaction of a man who believed he had been handsomely compensated by the shares Jaeha had brought into the marriage as a dowry.

Jaeha maintained his mask of respectful deference, staring straight ahead as the office secretary glanced toward him who then hurriedly lowered her eyes.

—“You aren’t busy, are you? There’s something I’d like to discuss with Executive Director Lee… Something I’d like to hear directly from you.”

Jang Changsik drew out the final words, clearly fishing for information.

A sudden chill swept through Jaeha. His mind drifted back to several weeks earlier, after another meeting arranged by the Chairman. Jang Taegeon’s reaction to that encounter had been a subtle yet chilling coldness. Taegeon had gone missing for days. Unable to bring himself to track him down, Jaeha had been left waiting in the empty silence of their house. He could wait for Taegeon. However, the thought that the Alpha might avoid his own home simply to escape the Chairman’s influence grated on him. Jaeha refused to make Taegeon feel like a guest within his own marriage.

He pressed his lips together before answering in a voice that was firm and final.

“Today would be difficult, Grandfather.”

—“…Did Director Jang tell you not to come when I call?”

“No.”

The answer arrived neither too swiftly nor too tardily; it was precisely timed. The old man remained unconvinced. Jaeha had anticipated this outcome, and he was indifferent.

—“Hmm. Director Jang has a rather jagged temperament. I don’t know what he may have said to you, but…”

“He hasn’t said anything to me concerning your affairs,” Jaeha lied smoothly, his tone remaining unfailingly polite. “There’s no need for you to worry. I’m simply buried in handover work today.”

Silence stretched across the line, heavy and expectant.

At last, Jang Changsik responded. —“…I see. If Executive Director Lee says so, then it must be true. Hmm. Next time, I’ll arrange the schedule more carefully so you won’t have to refuse. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Executive Director Lee.”

“I’ll do my best, Grandfather.”

—“Very well, then.”

Jang Changsik chuckled, meticulously assuming the voice of a warm and good-natured elder.

The call ended.

Jaeha remained motionless in the oppressive silence of the corridor, his fingers lingering around the phone.

***