At the same time, Kwon Tae-hee laid a trap so subtle that the young Beta, Seo Jeong-won, wouldn’t even realize it.
It was careless enough that Jeong-won, driven into a corner, might willingly walk into it while begging for mercy.
“…Excuse me? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, if you are consistently exposed to my pheromones, there’s a chance you might manifest. That’s why I’m suggesting this—what do you think?”
At the low, deliberate tone of Taehee’s voice, Jeong-won flinched.
His uneasy eyes avoided Taehee’s and wandered through the empty air.
“How about we both try, for a year or so? This kind of arrangement—exchanging something so private, like a child, in return for compensation—it has to remain confidential.”
Bringing in another Omega would be troublesome.
Taehee bit back the rest of that thought and smiled a fabricated smile.
“I’ll give you regular pheromone showers. If that triggers your manifestation… and we can move forward with the contract, then I’ll cover all costs needed to keep Kyuwon’s ventilator running for as long as necessary.”
“What if I don’t manifest?”
His black eyes trembled.
It was a proposal that should be rejected immediately.
It was clearly an unreasonable offer.
A baby, manifestation—these were things Jeong-won had never even considered in his life.
Not to mention, Taehee was once his brother’s fiancé.
He was not someone you could easily deal with.
Still, Jeong-won felt like he was standing at a crossroads, genuinely torn.
“Even if you don’t manifest, I’ll still do as you ask. I’ll compensate you for trying. If you ask me to keep Gyuwon’s ventilator running, I will. If you ask me to turn it off… then, that too.”
“Why… why are you offering me this?”
“Because I want this to be resolved as quietly as possible. Like I said, it can’t be made public… and it’s not easy to find someone whose interests align with mine.”
Someone with matching interests.
In other words, someone desperate.
Jeong-won, who desperately wanted to keep Gyuwon alive.
Taehee’s smile softened.
“Gyuwon was a dominant Omega. As you know, he manifested as an adult. You’re his brother. I believe there’s a possibility.”
“But still, that’s… it’s absurd. Just… I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. I’ll do whatever I can for my brother.”
Jeong-won shook his head.
Manifesting?
Impossible.
The idea itself was absurd.
“I’m not sure that’s really the best choice for your brother, but… that’s unfortunate.”
Taehee stood up with a regretful look.
He didn’t try to persuade Jeong-won or ask his to reconsider.
He simply said to reach out if Jeong-won ever needed help.
Then he left, as if he had no more business there.
***
Time passed, and the seasons changed.
It took Jeong-won eight months to reach out again.
It was a long time.
Taehee had expected maybe three or four months—but Jeong-won had held out for more than half a year.
Unfortunately, it had taken less than two months for Taehee’s curiosity to fade.
“You look worn down.”
“…Do I?”
His face was thinner.
Heis eyes, shaped by hardship, looked deeper.
Maybe he’d lost more weight.
Even with the muggy summer heat following the rainy season, his skin was pale, almost sickly.
His arm, visible under the wrinkled short sleeve, looked so thin it was hard to believe there were any muscles at all.
His small hands trembled on top of his knees, clearly showing his nerves.
His chapped lips moved slightly, then closed tight.
Jeong-won rubbed his red-rimmed eyes like he’d been crying and let out a long, shallow sigh.
Every time he moved, he gave off the faint smell of softener and fresh grass—like the kind Taehee had smelled in the greenhouse.
Despite his exhaustion, there was still something delicate and beautiful about him.
It stirred feelings Taehee had long forgotten.
“I’m sorry for contacting you out of the blue. I’m sure you’re busy, so thank you for making time.”
Since losing interest, Taehee hadn’t bothered keeping up with Jeong-won.
He’d stopped reviewing the reports he used to receive periodically through the secretariat.
Only after receiving the message that Jeong-won wanted to meet did he wonder how the young woman had been living.
When he finally did glance through the accumulated reports, it was clear: Jeong-won was falling apart.
His life was even more impoverished than expected.
“How’s your brother? Any improvement?”
It was a question, but his dull tone made it clear he didn’t truly care.
Jeong-won was quickly consumed by the anxiety he’d felt on the way here.
“The nurses and caregivers say his face looks brighter. His hands… are warm. And… even to me, he looks like he’s doing better. He really is improving.”
A lie.
The caregiver had quit as soon as payments started falling behind.
And how much “brighter” could the complexion of someone practically dead look?
Still, Taehee listened calmly as Jeong-won spoke in a voice tinged with metallic sorrow about Gyuwon.
Occasionally, Taehee nodded as if sympathizing.
“That’s good to hear.”
“Did you come just to share the good news?”
Jeong-won’s expression stiffened at the cold tone.
Taehee glanced at his watch while fidgeting with his wrist, making Jeong-won nervous.
He felt like he’d be told to leave any moment.
“No, I mean, I… I came because…”
“I have a meeting in about ten minutes. Not sure how long it’ll take. If it’s urgent, you can wait. Or we can talk another time.”
Taehee stood, putting on his jacket.
Watching him, Jeong-won hurriedly stood as well and blurted out the real reason for his visit.
“It’s urgent, really. That offer from before… about the pheromones… I wanted to know if that’s still valid.”
His eyes, filled with desperation, shimmered with moisture.
If Taehee pushed just a little harder, he looked like he might cry.
“Didn’t it occur to you that you might’ve come too late?”
“I know you’re busy, but if I can, I’d like to wait…”
Taehee tested him.
Jeong-won looked up at him with teary eyes and nodded.
In a trembling voice, he said he would wait, if that was okay.
“Fine, then. Wait.”
As Taehee exited the office, he moved with his chief secretary, Mr. Jeong, who had been waiting outside.
Jeong quietly asked how he should handle the guest left behind.
“He says he’ll wait until the meeting ends.”
“Should we bring him something to drink?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Just make sure the office CCTV is recording.”
Taehee stepped into the elevator he had called in advance, adjusting his tie.
On the way to the meeting room, he kept replaying his brief conversation with Jeong-won.
With that terrified face, asking if the offer still stood.
Naïve, just like his appearance.
If he had come within those two months when Taehee still had a little curiosity and patience left, things might’ve worked out.
But not now.
There were more than enough replacements for Gyuwon in the world—only Jeong-won didn’t seem to realize it.
Now that it had come to this, Taehee figured he might as well tame Jeong-won a bit—and make him even more desperate.
I held the reins now.
I planned to wield them as I pleased.
***
Left alone in the empty office, Seo Jeong-won kept hearing Kwon Tae-hee’s voice in his head, asking if it wasn’t already too late.
Maybe he had been right.
It had been well over six months since that offer came.
During that time, the financial situation had only worsened day by day.
The bank, having already issued a loan when the flower shop was transferred over, refused to lend more.
The only remaining option was private financing.
It didn’t even take three months before he dialed the number from the stickers posted around the break room, the low stone wall by the hospital trail, and the external restroom.
He took out a private loan using the flower shop as collateral.
The interest rate far exceeded the legal limit, but there was no other option.
He deducted the advance interest and used the remaining money to pay the hospital bills.
In just a few months, the millions of won he had never even touched disappeared as if it had been a lie.
The loan he eventually took ballooned faster than a snowball rolling down a snowy mountain.
The money, which had seemed like it would give him a breath of relief, ended up suffocating him instead.
Even paying the monthly interest became a struggle.
When the caregiver’s payments began to be delayed, they immediately quit the job.
“Sigh…”
Then the hospital bills, bank loan, and private loan payments all started to fall behind.
When not even the interest, let alone the principal, was deposited on the due date, the loan shark started with polite phone calls.
It didn’t take a month before they showed up at the flower shop.
They smashed everything in sight.
Their way of addressing him quickly changed from “Sir” to “You f***ing bastard.”
Eventually, they even hinted at organ trafficking.
“You’ve got two kidneys—you can live just fine with one,” they said.
If he hesitated to sell his own, they mocked his by suggesting he sell his brother’s instead.
“Your brother’s not gonna run any marathons or anything. He wouldn’t even know if it was gone.”