WGD Ch 18

The staff members watching the breaking news ticker also held their breath in shock. The indoor atmosphere fell into a silence that didn’t match the purpose of a company dinner. Kangsan, who had rushed in frantically, hung up his phone and approached.

“Hyung…”

“It’s okay.”

Siheon closed his eyes for a moment and opened them, forcing himself to appear calm. The worried gazes of the staff poured in from all around. Jinseok, standing nearby, gently pushed Siheon’s back with a soft touch and said.

“Kangsan, I’ll take care of things here, so take Siheon with you.”

“Yes, thank you. At least let me give you the card…”

As Kangsan fumbled to pull out his wallet from his pocket, Jinseok stopped him.

“No need, don’t worry about the bill and just go. That seems more important right now.”

He subtly nodded toward Siheon. Siheon appeared calm at a glance, but his face was noticeably pale, even in the dim lighting of the bar. Sensing that Siheon wasn’t in good condition, Kangsan supported him all the way to the car.

“Hyung, I got a call from Secretary Yang, and he said the president is okay. He’s not seriously injured or anything, so please don’t worry too much for now…”

Kangsan, buckling Siheon’s seatbelt himself as he spoke, let out a deep sigh. Even as he said it, he knew it was impossible not to worry. Instead of adding useless words, he closed the door and hurriedly got into the driver’s seat. In times like this, it was better to see the person’s face quickly and be reassured.

Since he hadn’t been drinking, fulfilling his duty as a manager, there was no issue with driving. Kangsan glanced at the rearview mirror and started the engine.

“We’re heading out.”

Siheon, with a stern expression, kept his gaze fixed outside the window.

＊＊＊＊＊

“Yes, I’m at the hospital where CH Group President Cha Wonwoo was transported. This afternoon, an unidentified assailant…”

The hospital operated by the CH Foundation was so crowded with reporters that there was barely room to step. Everyone was busy capturing footage of the building and delivering on-site reports. Despite the announcement that the patient’s condition would be briefed in a separate room, the chaotic atmosphere showed no signs of calming down.

With no other choice, Kangsan parked the car temporarily in a secluded spot behind the building and picked up his phone.

A few minutes later, Senior Nam Ilho arrived driving an ordinary sedan. Spotting the car, Siheon unbuckled his seatbelt and urged Kangsan to go home. Parking at the hospital was impossible, and the area was a no-parking zone, so Kangsan couldn’t leave the car and follow.

“Kangsan, go home and rest.”

“No, hyung. I’ll keep circling around nearby, so call me if you need anything.”

Kangsan suggested an alternative, but Siheon was firm.

“I’ll probably move with Wonwoo after checking on him anyway. There’s no need for you to go through this too.”

“Hyung, what are you talking about? We go through hardships together.”

“If it was work, I’d share the hardship, but this isn’t something I specifically asked for, and you don’t need to lose rest over my personal life. It’d actually make me feel better if you went home.”

“Still…”

Kangsan, with a troubled expression, fell into thought. He couldn’t follow into the hospital anyway because of the car, and even if he did, there wasn’t much he could do. For Siheon’s convenience, it made sense for the secretarial team to take over from here. Finally stepping back, Kangsan made a request.

“Then if anything happens to you, hyung, please call me right away. I’ll come immediately!”

“Alright, thanks for your hard work today.”

After making the promise, Siheon got out of the car. Senior Nam Ilho, waiting outside, gave a light bow and opened the passenger door. No words were exchanged between the two as Siheon switched cars.

The sedan stopped at the VIP ward’s dedicated parking area, which was strictly controlled from entry. Upon entering the building safely, security guards immediately surrounded them. In a tenser atmosphere than usual, security personnel changed at each section like a baton pass.

Escorted without a single gap, they reached the top floor where the hospital room was located. As privacy was one of the core principles of the VIP ward, entering the corridor required rigorous procedures. Fortunately, thanks to Senior Nam Ilho, all those steps were skipped.

When the door guarded by a security officer opened, a corridor filled with security personnel came into view. The guards, standing at regular intervals, tensed momentarily before confirming identities and turning their gazes away.

Secretary Yang was standing at the end of the corridor. Knowing that he, who had been in the same car, was unharmed gave Siheon hope that Cha Wonwoo was okay too, but he still felt anxious. His steps toward the hospital room quickened, eventually turning into a sprint.

“Where’s Wonwoo?”

Siheon threw the urgent question and, without waiting for an answer, reached for the hospital room’s door handle. A nearby guard moved to stop him, but Secretary Yang shook his head.

The door opened smoothly despite his rough touch, and Siheon rushed inside. He moved toward the bed, but no one was there. Staring blankly at the untouched bedding, he heard the click-clack of Secretary Yang’s shoes approaching from behind.

“The president is fine.”

Secretary Yang, stopping behind him, reported in a calm voice to reassure Siheon.

“The doctor said it’s just minor bruises. He’s currently away for additional tests. You know the car the president rides in isn’t an ordinary vehicle, right?”

“I know. I know, but…”

He couldn’t calm down. Siheon touched his forehead, then clenched his fist, flustered and at a loss. His head understood, but since he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he was consumed with unease. To distract himself, he should have asked who the assailant was or why they did it, but his lips wouldn’t move.

“Actor.”

As Siheon stood there, unable to do anything, Secretary Yang brought something over and held it out.

“The president instructed me to give this to you if you arrived while he was away.”

In his hands were the dress shirt and suit jacket Cha Wonwoo had worn that day.

“You must be shocked, so please sit and rest.”

Secretary Yang tactfully closed the hospital room door and left.

“Haa…”

After a few seconds of silence, Siheon’s breathing began to quicken. There was no way he’d be this out of breath just from running this short distance.

This was hyperventilation caused by anxiety.

As the symptoms persisted, his breathing sped up, dizziness hit, and his vision blurred. If this continued, he might faint. To avoid collapsing and hitting his head, Siheon instinctively sank to the floor, his trembling hands clutching the clothes tightly and burying his face in them.

He knew holding his breath could alleviate the symptoms. But instead, Siheon did the opposite, inhaling deeply with all his strength. Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones flooded his nose and mouth. He lost himself, breathing in the pheromones until they filled his lungs completely.

How much time had passed?

At some point, he felt a steady pressure and warm body heat from behind. Focusing on that warmth, he noticed arms wrapped around him. One hand rested on his waist, while the other gently stroked his chest at a steady rhythm, comforting him.

“Hyung, you’re okay…”

As his breathing gradually calmed, his ears opened up. A low, soothing voice poured out tenderly.

A jacket was draped over his head, blocking his view. Instead, soft kisses rained down on his crown, the back of his head, and his nape.

Siheon slowly pulled the jacket down. His blurred vision slowly regained focus. Sensing his movement, the arms embracing him from behind tightened slightly. Relaxing and leaning back, he was supported by a steady, broad chest.

“Hyung…”

The room was filled with the guy’s pheromones, as if he’d released them in abundance. Siheon breathed in the pheromone-laden air freely before asking.

“Are you okay?”

A nod must have followed, as the guy’s hair tickled Siheon’s nape.

“Yeah, I’m okay. How about you, hyung?”

“I’m okay too.”

“Just stay still for a bit.”

Cha Wonwoo, who had been sitting on the floor with him, stood up. Still holding Siheon, he lay down on the bed. They were curled up on their sides, facing the same direction.

“It’s just some muscle shock, not a single scratch, they said.”

Cha Wonwoo whispered, his lips close to Siheon’s ear. He spoke as if it was no big deal. Something welled up inside Siheon, but he swallowed it down. The anger wasn’t directed at him. In a weary voice, Siheon made a request.

“Still, don’t push yourself for a while.”

“Okay.”

Cha Wonwoo answered obediently and buried his nose in the spot where Siheon’s pheromone gland was. Though he had no injuries, he needed rest just as much.

“Sleep a bit.”

Siheon patted the back of the hand wrapped around his waist. Then, just as Cha Wonwoo had done, he released his pheromones densely enough to fill the room.

“Mmm…”

Perhaps feeling good, Cha Wonwoo let out a long, playful sound and pulled Siheon closer. Whether from exhaustion or because his imprint mate was nearby, he fell asleep faster than usual.

Siheon waited for a long time. Until the rising and falling of the chest and breathing behind him became steady. Only then did he carefully untangle himself and get off the bed.

Standing by the bedside, he looked at Cha Wonwoo, dressed in a hospital gown and sleeping, with a pang of sympathy. He brushed back the hair that had fallen over his face. Even in his sleep, Cha Wonwoo seemed to recognize the touch, nuzzling into it. Letting out a faint, deflated chuckle, Siheon gently stroked his head until he stopped stirring, then pulled his hand away.

Just in case he might wake, Siheon waited another five minutes, but he didn’t stir. He seemed to be deeply asleep.

After one last look at the sleeping figure, as if etching him into his memory, Siheon left the room.

As he stepped out, Secretary Yang, who had been on a call at the end of the corridor, hung up and quickly approached.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Do you have time right now? I’d like to talk.”

As if sensing his intent, the secretary nodded. He led Siheon to an indoor garden on the same floor.

Designed to take advantage of the top floor, the space had large skylights for sunlight and was adorned with various plants. The scent of soil brought a sense of calm to both body and mind. It was a shame that it was nighttime, with no sunlight coming in, as it was an excellent place for a walk.

With only a limited number of people allowed to use it and the late hour, the two of them were the only ones there.

Walking among the shrubbery, Siheon broke the silence that had lingered for a while.

“If there’s something I don’t know about, please tell me.”

He was asking what was happening with Cha Wonwoo. How shameless. Siheon inwardly mocked himself. It felt hypocritical to pry into Cha Wonwoo’s affairs when he himself was hiding so much.

“There’s nothing the president is specifically hiding or has instructed us to keep secret. It’s the usual. The accident itself was sudden.”

“The news reported it as an attack. It wasn’t a mistake due to reckless driving or drunk driving. That means it was intentional… Just tell me everything.”

“Actor, I want to tell you too.”

Secretary Yang, frustrated and upset that he didn’t know much himself, began explaining the circumstances of the accident.

“There was a suspicious vehicle, and we tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t just tailing us. As soon as they realized we noticed, they sped up and caused the accident. Fortunately, our vehicle is specially reinforced, so the damage was minimal, but not for them. The doctor said it’s a miracle they didn’t die instantly… They’re still in surgery. Even if it goes well, they’re unlikely to regain consciousness easily.”

In the end, the motive for the accident was unknown. Instead, Secretary Yang shared what they had learned about the perpetrator.

An ordinary office worker. Male. Dominant Omega. Both parents alive. No debts, maintaining a financially stable life. No connections to the CH Group or Cha Wonwoo personally.

“The police are investigating further, and the secretarial office is also looking into personal details separately.”

Since the accident had happened only a few hours ago, there wasn’t much information. Siheon nodded and asked calmly.

“Any guesses about who it might be?”

Secretary Yang’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised. He seemed taken aback by a question that didn’t assume the perpetrator acted alone.

“Actor Kang… You don’t think it was a solo act, do you?”

“They risked their life to ram the car. Wonwoo isn’t the type to inspire that kind of hatred in someone. So it probably wasn’t personal, right?”

He couldn’t claim to know everything about Cha Wonwoo, but the Cha Wonwoo he knew was like that. Secretary Yang nodded in agreement, saying, “That’s right.”

Even while speculating that it was someone’s doing, something felt off. To accept a deal involving life and death, there had to be a compelling reason. Usually, it’s money. But the perpetrator had no debts and was financially stable. There had to be another reason… An emotional motive? That would point back to revenge.

He’d played detective roles, but he was just an ordinary person—speculating wouldn’t yield answers. Still, while the perpetrator’s motive was unclear, Siheon had a hunch about who might have orchestrated it. Probably someone from the Cha family.

“Chairman Cha?”

Secretary Yang, after a moment of thought, shook his head at the sudden question.

“Probably not. It could have genuinely endangered the president.”

“Then it’s likely President Cha Eunsik’s side. Either him or Cha Iryeong.”

“That’s my thought too. The accident details leaked out like it was planned, with no time to stop it.”

Hearing Secretary Yang’s words, Siheon recalled what Cha Ijun had shouted when they met in New York.

‘Fuck, let’s see how long you and Cha Wonwoo can keep this up!’

Had he said that knowing something in advance? Siheon shared what Cha Ijun had said with Secretary Yang, just in case. But as he spoke, he had a gut feeling that whatever that bastard had warned about wasn’t related to today’s accident.

He suddenly craved a cigarette, something he’d quit since meeting Cha Wonwoo. Rolling his tongue in his empty mouth, Siheon spoke with a tone laced with disgust.

“It feels similar to back then, doesn’t it?”

“Back then…?”

“The day Wonwoo got that scar on his thigh.”

Secretary Yang’s expression darkened sharply. It had been a long time since the two had spoken about the past incident they’d tacitly kept secret from Cha Wonwoo.

Chairman Cha had ordered Cha Wonwoo, who was continuing his marriage, to stop fooling around and divorce Siheon. But Cha Wonwoo stubbornly refused. Chairman Cha wasn’t one to sit idly by. He took matters into his own hands. Among companies needing investment, he approached a dominant Omega who openly showed ambition and proposed a deal.

A one-night stand with guaranteed contraception.

The condition was to spend a night with Cha Wonwoo by any means necessary.

The goal was to create grounds for divorce—either by making Cha Wonwoo feel guilty for being with someone else while with Siheon, or by causing Siheon to feel disappointed or betrayed, thus breaking their marriage.

The location was a hotel in Korea. Chairman Cha arrogantly assumed that since Cha Donghyun, who ran the hotel, was his son, he’d comply even if he found out. But Representative Cha Donghyun didn’t.

‘Kang, it’s a big problem, so come to the hotel quick!’

What was he doing back then? The memories before and after were cut out like they’d been snipped away, but the helplessness and fear he felt on the way there were vivid.

‘What’s going on?’

He learned the rough details while heading to the hotel and going up to the room.

‘Father… Don’t be shocked, but it seems he tricked Wonwoo into a room with an Omega.’

‘What does that mean…?’

Sometimes, depending on the importance of the business or the other party, they’d discuss deals casually in a room. Secretary Yang said he didn’t suspect anything because of that. Plus, after dropping Cha Wonwoo off at the hotel, he was called to headquarters by Chairman Cha.

Complete isolation.

A setup to ensure Cha Wonwoo couldn’t call for help.

Later, they learned the Omega who made the deal with Chairman Cha was in a heat cycle. Whether to guard against a lack of response to their pheromones or because Chairman Cha had planned it, traces of a rut-inducing agent were found in Cha Wonwoo’s system.

Looking back now, since Cha Wonwoo was already imprinted, without the rut-inducing agent, he would have only felt disgust toward an Omega in heat, no matter how intense.

The one variable they hadn’t anticipated was Cha Wonwoo’s imprinting and the extreme pheromone rejection it caused.

Instead of succumbing to an Omega in front of him during a rut, the Alpha showed severe rejection, unleashing aggressive pheromones. It was an uncontrollable outburst with his reason gone. The fallout caused the other party to lose consciousness and collapse.

If Cha Wonwoo had been exposed to that frenzied state for long, who knows what might have happened.

Fortunately, Representative Cha Donghyun visited the room to greet his father, who rarely used the hotel. Beyond the suspicious behavior of the security guards blocking entry, he sensed the severity of the situation from the pheromones wafting into the corridor and contacted Secretary Yang and Siheon.

‘Sorry, Kang. I don’t know if it’s because of Father’s influence, but even though it’s my hotel, no one’s listening to me.’

They tried to use the hotel’s security to get inside, but they wouldn’t follow Cha Donghyun’s orders. He managed to use his card to access the elevator and reach the floor, but that was it.

The guards blocking the way refused to budge. The door only opened after Secretary Yang brought more people.

‘Cha Wonwoo!’

Siheon could never forget. The scene when he entered that room.

A room phone that only gave a disconnected dial tone—beep, beep—because it wasn’t connected to the front desk. A shattered mobile phone. A chaotic room with Cha Wonwoo sitting in a corner, as if hiding or locking himself away.

‘Hyung…’

A rut is a mating frenzy. Even if the Omega in front of him felt repulsive, you never know. Despite his reason crumbling, Cha Wonwoo was desperately trying not to do anything reckless with anyone other than Siheon.

Seeing his state, Siheon was too stunned to move.

‘Hyung, Kang Siheon…’

Snapping out of his daze at the sound of his name, Siheon rushed over and pulled Cha Wonwoo into his arms. The guy, who had been convulsing as if having a seizure when touched, soon calmed down, recognizing the familiar scent.

‘Hyung…’

‘Yeah, Wonwoo.’

‘Hyung…’

‘Yeah, I’m here. Your hyung’s here.’

‘Hyung…’

‘Yeah, it’s okay. Everything’s okay now.’

Suppressing his trembling voice, Siheon comforted Cha Wonwoo. Holding the guy who collapsed into his arms, he reached for his thigh area. But Cha Wonwoo gripped the object tightly, refusing to let go.

‘It’s okay, Wonwoo. It’s me, your hyung.’

‘Kang Siheon…’

‘Yeah… So please, let go of that.’

At the desperate plea, Cha Wonwoo flinched and slowly loosened his grip. Siheon retrieved the object and wrapped both arms tightly around him. The guy in his arms felt so fragile.

‘It’s okay.’

Was he comforting Cha Wonwoo or hypnotizing himself? Cha Wonwoo burrowed into the arms of the person holding him, as if he knew it was Siheon.

‘Hyung…’

A faint sound escaped his lips just before his eyelids fully closed.

‘Siheon hyung…’

Siheon held Cha Wonwoo tighter than ever before.

If he could, he wanted to break his own body apart, seep into every part of Cha Wonwoo, and reassure him.

Siheon didn’t know how they got Cha Wonwoo to the hospital. Some memories from that day were blurry, while others were painfully vivid.

Cha Wonwoo was deemed too dangerous and was sedated and isolated until his rut subsided. Siheon had volunteered to endure knotting to help, but he was refused for the same reason—danger.

He gazed endlessly at Cha Wonwoo through the glass wall. His heart felt like it was being torn apart. He only later learned that Kangsan and Representative Heo had taken turns staying by his side, as his eyes were fixed solely on Cha Wonwoo. His hands, still stained with blood, hadn’t been washed, and Representative Heo brought a wet wipe to clean them. But Siheon stood up abruptly, saying he’d wash them himself, and headed to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the sink, his face showed no trace of emotion. He stared at his hands for a moment before turning on the water. The dried blood washed away. Still, he kept scrubbing. His skin began to peel and chafe, and the sink started to reflect a red hue again.

“Hyung!”

Someone rushed in, pushed him aside, and turned off the faucet.

“Call a doctor, please, get a doctor!”

His limp hand brushed against his pocket. Through the fabric, he felt a hard texture. As if possessed, he pulled it out. It was a fountain pen he had once given Cha Wonwoo as a gift.

He had given it hoping Cha Wonwoo would have many good occasions to sign with it, but it had returned soaked in his blood. The blood that had stained the nib and barrel had dried into a blackened crust. Now, the blood from Siheon’s own hands began to mingle with it. It looked like a scar that would never heal.

In that moment, Siheon’s face went pale, and he stumbled into a stall, dry heaving. Nothing came up.

It felt like gravity was pulling him down. He didn’t resist the force and sank to his knees. His body lacked strength, and he curled up tightly, leaning his head against the cold wall.

He was so, so exhausted.

Exhausted enough to want to give up everything.

Fortunately, Cha Wonwoo woke up safely, thanks to meticulous care and treatment. Perhaps it was the resilience of a dominant Alpha. But he couldn’t remember what had happened to him that day.

“It’s dissociative amnesia. This can happen after severe trauma. Memories from a few minutes to decades can disappear. For patient Cha Wonwoo, it seems he only can’t recall the day of the incident.”

Siheon wished he could forget everything too. The reason he didn’t was guilt. He knew it wasn’t his fault. The ones to blame were Chairman Cha and that Omega, but separate from that, an inexplicable guilt and sense of responsibility crushed Siheon. So he gathered every remaining fragment of that day’s memories and etched them into his mind. So they wouldn’t fade, even if he wanted them to. He felt it was his duty to bear the nightmare Cha Wonwoo couldn’t remember.

“Don’t force him to remember or pressure him. For now, focus on his physical recovery.”

Following the doctor’s advice, everyone kept quiet. A minor accident during transit—that’s all Cha Wonwoo was told.

Siheon thought it was better that way. Cha Wonwoo already felt disillusioned with his family. Siheon didn’t want to add that his grandfather had done something like this.

No, that was an excuse. He was afraid that if Cha Wonwoo learned the truth, he’d feel as exhausted by everything as Siheon did, and might want to give up.

It was definitely selfish. Siheon wanted Cha Wonwoo to remain unchanged, for those beautiful eyes to sparkle with love when they looked at him, even as the light within Siheon himself was slowly fading. He deceived Cha Wonwoo out of fear. Out of sheer terror.

Kang Siheon, you’re a selfish, pathetic bastard. Every time he saw Cha Wonwoo, the voice inside him condemning himself grew louder. It was the same now.

Emerging from the memories that rekindled his guilt, Siheon looked at Secretary Yang.

“I want to protect Wonwoo, but I’m always powerless.”

It might sound like an excuse, but unexpectedly, Secretary Yang shook his head.

“You’re not powerless, Actor. You just don’t know how to do it. Or maybe you know but choose to ignore it.”

“Ignoring it isn’t quite right. I’m just… tired. Oh, I guess that’s ignoring it.”

Siheon let out a wry chuckle and ran a hand over his face. Feeling drained, he sat haphazardly on a nearby bench. Secretary Yang, standing close by, looked down at him and spoke.

“If… like that incident back then, you’re holding onto a secret alone, please tell the president. He’s not as young as you might think.”

Secretary Yang gave a faint smile.

“He’s grown up before we knew it. Our young master.”

If even someone who had watched him since he was very young saw him that way, he truly had become an adult.

Siheon stared at the skylight for a long time before answering absently.

“To me, Wonwoo has always been a big person.”

A big person who gave immense love.

It was just that Siheon’s own vessel was too small to hold Wonwoo and that love.

＊＊＊＊＊

Cha Wonwoo stayed in the hospital for one more day before being discharged immediately.

It wasn’t just because of the falling stock prices. He knew that the longer he stayed in the hospital, the more strange speculations would arise.

Moreover, with Chairman Cha Hyuncheol bedridden due to illness, if Cha Wonwoo, acting as vice chairman, were absent as well, it would only benefit President Cha Eunsik. Even if it meant pushing himself, returning to the front lines was natural since he had no health issues.

Of course, this was far from ideal for Siheon. He wanted Cha Wonwoo to rest. On the other hand, as someone with a job himself, he understood that wasn’t possible. So he was doing what he could.

“Don’t overdo it. Especially don’t skip meals.”

Siheon followed Cha Wonwoo, who was heading out to work in the morning, to the front door and issued a warning.

“Secretary Yang told me everything. You’ve been skipping meals a lot lately.”

“That’s because I’ve been busy with work…”

Cha Wonwoo, slipping his feet into his dress shoes, stood meekly while making an excuse. Scolding him in pajamas wasn’t exactly dignified, but Siheon shamelessly pressed on.

“I get it. It’s hard to eat on time when you’re busy. But even if you can’t eat at the right time, you still have to eat, right?”

Those were the exact words Cha Wonwoo had said to Siheon during their dating days when Siheon kept skipping meals due to his filming schedule. Hearing his own words thrown back at him, Cha Wonwoo’s expression turned peculiar.

“Alright. I’ll make sure to eat properly.”

“And when you’re on the move, don’t look at documents or your tablet in the car. Take a nap instead.”

This, too, was a nag Siheon had heard for reading scripts during transit instead of catching up on sleep. A flicker of realization crossed Cha Wonwoo’s hesitant face as he understood that these were all things he had once said.

Catching on to Siheon’s cute retaliation, Cha Wonwoo letSlip a small laugh. He also seemed pleased by the concern pouring out alongside the scolding.

“Hyung, I’m a really lucky guy.”

Siheon, who had been thinking about which words to throw back next, closed his mouth. He felt oddly flustered.

“Where else would I find someone who remembers every little thing I’ve said like this, right?”

“No, it’s not exactly like that…”

“I know how you feel, hyung.”

Cha Wonwoo nodded playfully and closed the distance in an instant. Smooch. He pressed his lips firmly against Siheon’s cheek before pulling back, gazing at him quietly. Normally, Siheon would have teased him and bolted, but today, Cha Wonwoo just sent him a silent look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Unable to hold back, Siheon asked about the meaning behind his gaze. Cha Wonwoo hesitated, his lips parting as if debating whether to speak, before cupping Siheon’s cheek with his large hand.

“Hyung, about… what happened in the hospital room.”

The hospital room? Siheon tilted his head, not immediately understanding, but soon realized what he meant and answered reflexively.

“It’s okay.”

The response came out like a vending machine dispensing a drink, and Cha Wonwoo furrowed his brow.

“Hyung, you could barely breathe. How is that okay?”

As expected. He was cautiously bringing up the hyperventilation. Siheon placed his hand over Cha Wonwoo’s, which was cupping his cheek.

“I was just startled then. It’s not something that happens normally.”

He had only collapsed when left alone after barely holding it together, but it wasn’t because of any real issue.

Cha Wonwoo’s sharp gaze, scanning his face thoroughly, continued until a phone call interrupted.

“I’m heading out.”

Answering the call with his usual line, Cha Wonwoo hung up curtly.

“Make sure to give Secretary Yang and Driver Kim a generous bonus when you can.”

Siheon, who had been listening quietly, made a subtle suggestion. Monetary rewards weren’t everything, but with few trustworthy people, he couldn’t bring himself to suggest giving them a vacation.

“I was already planning to promote them during next year’s regular personnel changes. And with this incident, I’ll give them some compensation as well.”

Cha Wonwoo stuffed his phone into his coat pocket and leaned in again, this time kissing Siheon’s cheek with a soft peck. Then, opening his mouth wide, he engulfed Siheon’s cheek entirely and nibbled playfully.

Shocked by the second most intense skinship since the lip-biting incident in New York, Siheon stood speechless. Unfazed by Siheon’s frozen state, Cha Wonwoo sucked on his cheek to his heart’s content before pulling back with a wet pop.

“You, what… what was that just now…?”

“Hyung.”

Go on, try to explain yourself. Siheon glared, but Cha Wonwoo furrowed his brow and declared boldly.

“Please stop worrying about others and just worry about me.”

Perhaps too shy to kiss again, he released a burst of pheromones instead. Though intangible, the pheromones, perceptible to those with the trait, rained down on Siheon’s body from head to toe.

“I’ll be back.”

With a flourish of his coat, the door closed. Thud. The lingering scent of Cha Wonwoo tickled Siheon’s nose. It was slightly different from the scent he’d known before. As Cha Wonwoo had once mentioned, it felt mixed with Siheon’s own pheromones…

“Haa…”

Absurdly, it was in that moment that the reality of their imprinting truly hit him.

Originally, Siheon had planned to see Cha Wonwoo off to work and catch a bit more sleep. But the shocking skinship of having his cheek nibbled and the familiar yet unfamiliar pheromones emanating from Cha Wonwoo jolted him awake.

“No more sleeping now.”

Muttering as he stretched, Siheon resigned himself to starting the day earlier than planned.

After washing up, he checked the messages that had piled up. He felt uneasy about leaving the company dinner abruptly without proper goodbyes. His agency had likely handled it, but his heart wasn’t at ease.

He crafted messages combining unique greetings, apologies for causing worry, and requests to do well in the remaining shoots, sending them directly to Director Pyo and a few others.

In this industry, early morning was practically midnight. If not, people were out shooting from dawn. As expected, with everyone’s busy schedules, no one read the messages immediately.

After sorting through his contacts, Siheon sat in the study, poring over the script and sinking into deep thought. Following Director Pyo Wookjoon’s critique, he reconsidered Seonwook’s psychology from scratch. But something still felt lacking.

Lost in thought, Siheon suddenly changed clothes and sent a text to Cha Wonwoo.

[

Cha Wonwoo

I’m going to swing by my place.

I’ll be back soon.]

Before he could add that he’d be quick, a call came through instantly. The moment he pressed the answer button, urgent questioning followed.

—Your place? What place? Where are you right now, hyung?

“You’re so predictable. What happened to phone etiquette like saying ‘hello’?”

—Hello, where are you?

Siheon, slipping his feet into sneakers, flinched. Is this guy still hurting that much? Sucking cheeks in the morning, saying weird things. A baffled chuckle escaped him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did you get properly checked?”

—I’m so fine I could come back to you right now.

“Come back for what? Go do your work diligently, Mr. President.”

As he finished putting on his shoes, a sudden scribble, scribble sound came through the phone, like someone writing. It seemed Cha Wonwoo was busy signing something even during the call. Better hang up quick. Stepping out the front door, Siheon explained his destination and reason.

“I’m going to my place to grab a book.”

—What other place do you have besides our house?

“I’ve got that place I got after the divorce, you know.”

With pheromone reading and all, he’d somehow ended up back in their marital home, but that other place was still under his name.

—That’s not a home. It’s just… just a villa you stayed in for a bit.

“A villa? That place is worth a fortune. Only say that in front of me, got it? Don’t go getting cursed out somewhere else.”

—…What book?

“I used it for character research before. I’m going to get it.”

Living someone else’s life is an actor’s privilege. Yet, had he squandered that privilege, just shoving Seonwook into the mold of familiar characters he’d always played? Perhaps he’d relied on his acting experience and approached character research mechanically. He wanted to return to the days of intense contemplation, retrace what he’d missed, and rebuild the Seonwook he’d constructed within himself.

—Tell me what book it is. I’ll buy it and send it.

“I need it because of the notes I wrote in it.”

A new book wouldn’t do. He wanted that book, filled with what he’d seen, heard, felt, and realized.

—Then I’ll have someone stop by and get it.

“It’s fine, I’m already out.”

He wasn’t unaware of the anxiety an Alpha feels when their imprint mate leaves their territory. It was odd for a couple on the brink of divorce, but it was understandable as separation anxiety or attachment from an imprint mate.

Since learning about their imprinting, Siheon also felt psychological pressure leaving a place filled with Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones for one completely devoid of them. He just didn’t mention it, thinking it was something he had to overcome himself.

Unlike Cha Wonwoo, whose workplace was fixed, an actor’s job took him to studios or outdoor shoots, with locations changing constantly. He couldn’t ask Cha Wonwoo to tag along like a child, so he needed to learn to manage his anxiety.

Climbing into a waiting taxi, Siheon reassured Cha Wonwoo.

“It won’t take long. I’ll text you while I’m going and coming, so don’t worry. Or, isn’t it almost lunch? If you’re eating alone, we can video call for a bit. I can check if you’re skipping meals, and it’ll be nice.”

That should be fine, right? The sound of the door closing, the taxi driver’s greeting, and the engine must have reached him. Realizing he couldn’t stop Siheon, Cha Wonwoo answered weakly.

—…Okay.

His voice alone painted a picture of a sulky face. He acts all mature but looks so cute when he’s like that. Swallowing a laugh, Siheon told him to work hard and hung up.

The driver, checking the rearview mirror to confirm the passenger was done, turned up the radio volume.

“…Always with you, TBN With—U FM Youth Era, Hong Isul here. In The Devil’s Dictionary by American author Ambrose Bierce, love is defined as follows: Love, a temporary madness curable by marriage. No wonder his nickname was ‘Biting Bierce,’ right? Bierce ended up divorced too. But it got me thinking. Why do we assume there’s a next stage to love? As if marriage is the ultimate form of love?”

Siheon propped his chin and watched the passing scenery. Car frames speeding along the road, tree branches, and sunlight shattered into fragments on building windows.

“Love is a feeling, and a relationship is a form. Love could just continue as love, couldn’t it? So why do we try to put a form on it? If love didn’t get tangled up in relationships and stayed in a more essential form, could it remain pure? That’s my question. What do you listeners think? Did I ask too sleepy a question before lunch? Haha, let’s play some upbeat music. Don’t forget to share your thoughts on the bulletin board or by text while the next song plays! The listener text number is #110…”

The DJ’s voice continued.

“Now, a group that needs no introduction. Let’s listen to Melody’s new single!”

After the spiel, lively music filled the air. Perhaps to stay alert, the driver turned the volume up further.

A punchy intro grabbed attention, followed by a blend of colorful voices. Hearing a familiar voice, Siheon remembered he owed Hanbit tofu-kimchi-samhap. To avoid forgetting, he texted Kangsan to schedule a reshoot date.

Meanwhile, the taxi sped toward its destination.

＊＊＊＊＊

Having just hung up, Cha Wonwoo furrowed his thick brows and set down his phone. Closing his eyes briefly to compose himself, he pressed the button on the desk phone connected to the secretarial office.

“The call’s done. Come back in.”

Hearing Siheon tell him to work hard and call him “Mr. President” had led him to absentmindedly scribble words like “role-play, CEO, secretary” on a piece of paper.

Click. At the sound echoing through the quiet office, he subtly covered the words with a file and glanced at the person entering. It was Secretary Yang, who had stepped out while his boss was on the phone.

For a moment, Cha Wonwoo imagined how nice it would be if it were Siheon walking in… He tightened his facial muscles to keep his expression from softening.

“Continue what you were saying earlier.”

“Yes, sir.”

Secretary Yang, suddenly facing a boss who looked extremely displeased, tensed up. Swallowing hard and standing respectfully at the desk to resume his report, he was interrupted.

“Hold on.”

Raising his hand slightly to stop him, Cha Wonwoo asked a different question.

“About that house where hyung lived for a while. How many people are stationed around it?”

“Well, that’s…”

Normally, an answer would come immediately, but for some reason, Secretary Yang looked troubled. Cha Wonwoo stared at him. Urging with silence was scarier than words.

“That area… After Actor Kang returned to the marital home, we reassigned the personnel to other tasks.”

Cha Wonwoo’s expression darkened. He had been proactive in job creation by guarding and protecting the area around his ex-husband’s new house. Including the secretaries working publicly, numerous people supported him. Without specific instructions, how and where to deploy them was entirely Secretary Yang’s prerogative.

“I’m sorry.”

But Secretary Yang apologized without a second thought. Strictly speaking, his boss had never told him to remove people from that area. It was a misjudgment.

“No, it’s fine. If we’re short on staff, hire more. Now, let’s get back to what you were saying.”

Though he looked momentarily taken aback, Cha Wonwoo didn’t press further. He understood that during a busy period, they couldn’t afford to keep people stationed there indefinitely. As the topic shifted naturally, Secretary Yang returned to the main point.

“A key was found in the vehicle of the perpetrator who caused the traffic accident.”

“What kind of key is it?”

“We’ve only received word that it’s still under investigation. And as you mentioned, sir, there was an attempt to scrap the perpetrator’s vehicle. The insurance company’s property damage adjuster reportedly authorized moving the vehicle from the repair shop to a scrapyard without permission.”

“What was their excuse?”

“Both the police and the insurance company claim it was an individual employee’s mistake. The employee in question repeatedly apologized and said the same.”

Listening to the report, the corner of Cha Wonwoo’s mouth twisted as if he found it absurd. Seeing his cold smirk, Secretary Yang felt a chilling sensation creep up his spine.

“A mistake… If we hadn’t noticed, it would’ve been scrapped as is.”

Secretary Yang nodded to express agreement.

Cha Wonwoo fell silent, lost in thought.

When President Cha Geumho passed away suddenly, Cha Wonwoo was too young. By the time he grew into an adult, President Cha Eunsik had already built his network everywhere. Every organization has its corrupt elements, and those people didn’t refuse the sweet temptations offered by President Cha Eunsik.

“Still, thanks to you, sir, it didn’t get scrapped, which is fortunate.”

As a secretary assisting Cha Wonwoo and an adult who had watched him grow, Secretary Yang spoke with sincerity. It wasn’t just flattery.

Planting new roots in a place where rot has already taken hold is difficult. There’s resistance, and it takes time for the new roots to gain strength. There’s no guarantee the new roots won’t be flawed either. With an organization as old as the police, where the higher-ups have long ties with President Cha Eunsik, it wasn’t easy for Cha Wonwoo to break in.

But he couldn’t just sit idly by either.

If this was a setup by President Cha Eunsik, the involved police officers were likely his people. Rather than wasting effort there, Cha Wonwoo turned his attention to the insurance company and the scrapyard. If he were the one orchestrating this, he’d have ensured the vehicle was destroyed to cover any tracks, just in case.

CH Financial also had an insurance division, and through it, he contacted scrapyard office workers who purchased accident vehicles via the insurance company’s site. He even sent people directly to nearby scrapyards. As a result, they prevented the perpetrator’s vehicle from being scrapped and, after demanding a reinvestigation, discovered the key.

“Secretary Yang, no need to give me credit. If I’d been fumbling, you would’ve advised me anyway, right?”

Secretary Yang, who had played a key advisory role as Cha Wonwoo grew, spoke firmly.

“What matters is that you thought it through and gave the orders yourself, sir. That’s why I can trust and follow you to the end.”

Hearing this, Cha Wonwoo gave a weary smile. Every moment was a test. Recognizing the strained smile, Secretary Yang quietly lowered his gaze. As he always did when exhausted, Cha Wonwoo’s eyes drifted to the photo across the room. Steadying himself by looking at Siheon, he turned to Secretary Yang.

“Even if we figure out what the key is, they’ll report it to President Cha Eunsik’s side first. There are police officers who work with a sense of justice and pride, so they won’t completely shut us out just to avoid suspicion.”

“I understand what you mean.”

Don’t wait for the investigation results—conduct a separate inquiry. Find out what the key is before President Cha Eunsik does. Quickly organizing the tasks ahead, Secretary Yang checked the watch on his wrist.

“Sir, if you’re going to eat, you should leave now.”

With Siheon’s stern warning not to skip meals for a while, a private room had been reserved at a traditional Korean restaurant frequented by group executives.

At the mention of lunchtime, Cha Wonwoo immediately checked his phone. He remembered Siheon’s suggestion to video call while eating.

“Sir?”

Prompted subtly by Secretary Yang, Cha Wonwoo, who had been staring at his phone as if he could burn a hole through it, stood up. He could move to the restaurant and call from the private room.

As he rose from his chair, put on his jacket, and buttoned it up, the phone on the desk buzzed—bzzz—with a vibration. Checking the screen, he saw an incoming video call. He answered without hesitation.

“Hyung.”

—Hello. Are you heading to eat now?

“Yeah, are you… with your manager?”

It was a private moment for the couple. Secretary Yang turned to wait outside. As he reached for the door, Siheon’s voice rang out clearly. With the speaker on for the video call, it couldn’t be helped.

—Yeah, I am, but… Wonwoo, don’t freak out, okay?

The affectionate way Siheon called his name without honorifics sparked a sudden surge of anxiety in Cha Wonwoo. His heart pounded fiercely, and unable to do anything about it, he gripped the phone tightly.

“Hyung, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

—This place, my house…

Siheon paused, letting out a sigh before continuing.

—It looks like someone’s been here.

Secretary Yang, about to step out, quickly turned back.

Over the phone, Cha Wonwoo and Secretary Yang exchanged rapid glances.

＊＊＊＊＊

Entering his old apartment for the first time in a while, Siheon opened the fridge door but paused to run his index finger across the dining table. A trail formed where his finger passed. It was covered in dust.

While staying at the marital home, he hadn’t arranged for cleaning here, so the dust had built up considerably. Unlike other places, this apartment had photos and gifts that made it clear a celebrity—specifically Kang Siheon—lived here, and it was obvious it had been empty for a while, so he couldn’t entrust cleaning to outsiders.

Should I clean while I’m here?

He’d only planned to grab the book, but seeing the dust on his fingertips made him reluctant to leave it as is. The air felt heavy with dust.

Hanging his jacket on a chair, Siheon headed to the study first. He’d grab the book, do some light tidying, and then video call Cha Wonwoo on time.

When he went to the study to get the book, he didn’t notice anything unusual. With a clear goal, he wasn’t looking at anything else and focused solely on retrieving the book.

He only sensed something off when he entered the sub-room connected to the master bedroom.

Though called a sub-room, it was spacious enough to store fan letters and gifts neatly packed. Entering to grab a few memorable letters from his rookie days, Siheon felt a strange sense of unease. It wasn’t anything specific, but he felt it nonetheless.

What’s this? He carefully scanned the room. The candles were in place, and the remaining wax matched his memory. The gifts’ positions were the same. What’s wrong?

Siheon walked to the shelf where he kept the fan letters.

“That’s odd…”

The letters, varied in color and shape, were sorted by when they were received. It wasn’t perfectly organized, but he had a mental picture of how they looked together since he’d arranged them himself.

The first night in this apartment, overwhelmed with sorrow, he’d cried endlessly while reading the letters fans sent. He found comfort in words wishing for his happiness, not in Cha Wonwoo’s body heat, which he could no longer feel.

So he couldn’t miss it. The order of the letters sticking out from the storage box was subtly different from his memory. It was like an unfamiliar image. Straightening up, Siheon stepped closer.

Since they were sorted by date, checking them directly would confirm it.

Reaching to pull out the storage box supporting the letters, he froze, stopping all movement.

It’s gone.

Siheon realized the source of the unease he’d felt upon entering the room.

There was no dust on the shelf where it should have accumulated.

He suspected someone had taken out the storage box to check its contents. The box’s bottom must have dragged across the shelf, collecting less dust than other areas. The dust would have fallen below, but to avoid leaving traces, they cleaned thoroughly. That’s why the air felt less heavy compared to dustier spots.

Siheon pulled out a storage box and opened an envelope.

6, 9, 8… 14, 15, 13…

The letters, originally sorted from the 1st to the last, were slightly jumbled, though not drastically.

Setting the letters down, Siheon returned to the study to check the bookshelf. As expected, there was no dust there either.

There was no time to process. The moment he realized it could be dangerous to stay inside, Siheon rushed out and made a call.

“Kangsan, can you come to where I am?”

He also informed Representative Heo.

“Representative, it’s me.”

It could be a sasaeng fan or a stalker, so the agency needed to respond. Hearing the situation, Representative Heo said he’d come over and was about to hang up when Siheon urgently shouted.

“Why are you hanging up! Haven’t you seen dramas? In cases like this, bad guys are usually watching somewhere, waiting for the target to be alone before kidnapping them. Don’t hang up!”

Kangsan was likely driving to get here, so he couldn’t stay on the line. Representative Heo had a driver, so it was fine.

Leaving the building’s main entrance, Siheon headed to the security office. Being outdoors with more eyes was safer than the house, and being with a guard was better than being alone. He needed to check the CCTV anyway, so it was a necessary stop.

—Cha Wonwoo’s on the line, right? You’re not going to keep this from him, are you?

“No, I’ll tell him.”

Acting nonchalant or hiding it to deal with it alone could make things worse and more dangerous.

—But why not hang up?

“If he knows I’m alone in a situation like this, he’ll lose it. I need to show him Kangsan’s with me so he doesn’t freak out as much.”

—Who’s worrying about who right now? The one who should feel the crisis is you, Actor Kang.

Representative Heo’s sigh came through the phone. Knowing the other couldn’t see, Siheon shrugged instead of answering.

Words carry an invisible power, binding you to the moment they’re spoken. There’s a big difference between thinking something and saying it aloud. That’s why, though Siheon thought it was scary that someone had been in his empty apartment, he didn’t voice it. Speaking it would make it truly frightening, and above all, he didn’t want to be controlled by that fear.

“If you’re that worried about your actor, just get here quickly. Right?”

Feigning nonchalance with a bit of bravado, he got an immediate retort.

—You’d talk your way out of anything.

The call continued until Kangsan arrived. Seeing his familiar face, a step ahead of Representative Heo, Siheon finally let go of vague kidnapping fears and hung up.

While the security company handling the building’s CCTV looked into the footage, Siheon took Kangsan back to the apartment to grab some essentials. The house, which had sent chills down his spine when he fled, felt manageable with Kangsan, whose bulk could probably take down a couple of Alphas.

“Let’s just grab a few important things today. We’ll set a day to move everything else out completely.”

“Are you planning to move?”

Kangsan set down a large duffel bag, big enough for an adult man, in the middle of the living room.

“Yeah, this place feels off, so I think I need to move.”

“Good call.”

“But when am I supposed to find a new place?”

Drained, Siheon flopped onto the sofa with a sigh. Kangsan, unzipping the bag to make space, looked up.

“A new place? I don’t think you need to look… Wouldn’t it be better to just stay at the marital home? It’s safer too. And with your mutual imprinting, you two can’t be far apart, right?”

He had a point, but Siheon’s relationship with Cha Wonwoo was a bit… Siheon swallowed his words. Kangsan, oblivious to how sharply he’d hit the mark, stood up.

“I’ll grab the big stuff I know about, so you handle the documents and personal items, hyung.”

“Yeah, I’ll call Wonwoo first.”

“Okay, I’ll leave all the doors wide open. If anything happens to you, I need to know.”

After checking the front door’s lock, Kangsan opened every door in the house and started packing. Siheon checked the time, picked up his phone, and composed his expression to relay the situation as calmly as possible, avoiding provocative words. Not that it would stop Cha Wonwoo from rushing over with a terrifying look.

“Hyung.”

The moment the front door’s lock clicked open, Cha Wonwoo rushed in and pulled Siheon into a tight embrace. The forceful movement stirred a faint breeze, and a wave of pheromones hit him. The familiar yet strangely foreign scent—a mix of his own and Cha Wonwoo’s—flooded his nose in an instant.

Siheon gave an awkward nod to Secretary Yang over Cha Wonwoo’s shoulder before patting his back.

“I’m okay.”

Of course, he didn’t calm down easily. Large hands gripped him even tighter. Burying his face, which grew warm when excited, Cha Wonwoo took a deep breath. Oddly, seeing Cha Wonwoo worry more than he did calmed Siheon’s own heart.

“I’m not hurt or anything. As soon as I noticed something strange, I got out. I called you almost right away too.”

“Hyung.”

Cha Wonwoo pulled back, looking down at Siheon with hardened eyes.

“You know what I’m going to say.”

All too well. Siheon sighed.

“Don’t worry. I’m not attached to this place. I’ll move out right away.”

Of course, they’d need to investigate who had been here first, but separately, Siheon planned to avoid coming back as much as possible.

“If you’re moving out, what’s next?”

Siheon’s gaze drifted to Kangsan, who was packing, but unable to stand it, Cha Wonwoo blocked his view and pressed him. His eyes were insistent, demanding a specific answer.

“Well, I mean… Moving out doesn’t mean I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll find a new place when I can. I can’t just dump all this stuff in a warehouse.”

“Move it to our house.”

It was a suggestion bordering on a demand. There was emphasis on “our house.” He didn’t even wait for a reply.

“That was the right call from the start. I shouldn’t have let you go. Ugh… These are things that were originally in our house, so just bring them back. Let’s restore things as they were.”

Siheon looked at the anxious and agitated Cha Wonwoo with mixed feelings. Should he have drawn a firm line and treated him like a stranger? Had maintaining this ambiguous relationship caused his issues to affect Cha Wonwoo more than they should?

But what’s the point now? Their imprinting meant they couldn’t be apart anyway. He wasn’t happy with how their mutual imprinting had derailed the divorce he’d painstakingly decided on.

“Hyung.”

Cha Wonwoo’s talk of restoring things wasn’t limited to possessions. Could a relationship be restored too? Could the connection between two people be put back together like moving items back into place? Or would it be like gluing broken glass—never quite the same? Even a carefully mended cloth bears stitch marks, no matter how well hidden. Every time you see the path of the sharp needle, wouldn’t it remind you that things can’t return to how they were? Unlike glass or cloth, people require a different approach to mend, and Siheon didn’t yet know what that was. So he couldn’t rashly offer assurances.

“I need… time to think. I have things to sort out myself.”

Realizing he shouldn’t push further, Cha Wonwoo backed off.

“Okay. But you’ll keep sleeping… at our house, right?”

It was a question about whether staying at the marital home, as they were now, was the right choice. Siheon nodded.

“Of course.”

Answering, he was inwardly shocked. Beyond a simple “yeah” or “sure,” he’d said “of course.”

“Actor Kang!”

The confusion was interrupted by Representative Heo, the last to arrive. Perhaps due to the bond of managing a high-maintenance actor, Kangsan, who was packing, shouted “Representative!” and ran to greet him warmly. Despite being the second to be contacted, Representative Heo arrived last but exchanged pleasantries with Secretary Yang with a friendly smile.

With five people gathered, the situation was handled swiftly. Considering Siheon’s wish to avoid media attention for now, it was decided that Secretary Yang would discreetly hire people to investigate.

“Under the Apartment Housing Management Rules, footage must be kept for at least 30 days, so securing the data shouldn’t be an issue. Recovering deleted footage might be difficult, though.”

Representative Heo nodded at Secretary Yang’s words.

“That’s fine. We just need to determine if this is a sasaeng fan or stalker—a personal crime against Actor Kang—or if there’s something else at play.”

Typically, CCTV is only in elevators, making it hard to tell which floor someone exits. But for security reasons, Siheon’s building had cameras outside the elevator doors too. Since Siheon was the only resident on his floor, confirming whether the intruder was alone or with others would be a significant lead. A lone intruder likely pointed to a sasaeng fan, while multiple intruders suggested a connection to the CH Group. Given Cha Wonwoo’s recent accident, the latter seemed more likely.

As Representative Heo and Secretary Yang, sharing similar struggles, bonded, Kangsan started cleaning, and Siheon packed the bag he’d brought. Cha Wonwoo followed him closely.

“Here it is.”

Entering the master bedroom, Cha Wonwoo looked around curiously before approaching the bed. Come to think of it, he’d never been here. He might’ve seen interior photos through reports, though. Cha Wonwoo fondly stroked the unremarkable bedding and asked.

“That photo was taken here, right?”

“What?”

“The one you posted in pajamas.”

He was probably referring to the SNS photo uploaded when Byun Haewon visited.

“Yeah.”

Siheon answered absently and opened the sub-room. Since he was already living with clothes and items at the marital home, there wasn’t much to pack. Most of the stuff was documents, with space left for fan gifts and letters.

But opening the door, he realized it was awkward to take just a few items instead of everything. It felt wrong to prioritize gifts when the givers wouldn’t know, making him uneasy. Maybe it’s better to move everything at once later.

Setting the bag down to think, Siheon suddenly noticed how quiet Cha Wonwoo was. Something felt off.

“Cha Wonwoo.”

Suppressing the urge to shout “No way!” Siheon turned around.

“What are you…”