WGD Ch 7
by soapaEven before placing an additional order, the staff member who entered was carrying a large platter of sashimi. As they set it down in the center of the table, Director Pyo’s eyes sparkled.
“Well, what’s this rare treat!”
Seeing Director Pyo’s rare excitement and admiration, Jinseok asked curiously.
“What kind of fish is it?”
“Grouper. In kids’ terms these days, it’s ‘legit,’ right? How’s that? I know some modern slang too, don’t I? Anyway, this is the real deal grouper.”
As a fishing enthusiast, Director Pyo identified the sashimi at a glance. Jinseok tilted his head.
“Grouper’s high-end, sure, but it’s not that rare, is it?”
Director Pyo clicked his tongue, and the staff stepped in to explain.
“What’s commonly served as grouper is Jeju javari. Javari is delicious and high-quality, but very few have tasted ‘true grouper.’ It’s so rare that only a few are caught each year.”
At the mention of the prized sashimi, Director Pyo jumped in eagerly.
“In other words, even money can’t buy you a taste of this. But speaking of which, it’s amazing enough that you sourced it—why bring something this precious, flown into Seoul, to our table?”
The staff flashed a polite, professional smile and answered.
“It was originally meant for the room next door, but Department Head Cha Wonwoo instructed us to bring it here. He said it’s a sashimi Actor Kang Siheon enjoys.”
“Let’s see… Cha Wonwoo, Cha Wonwoo… Actor Kang’s husband?”
Nodding to the surprised director, the staff added.
“For your information, Department Head Cha Wonwoo has also offered to cover this room’s bill personally, so please let us know if you need anything.”
With the characteristic over-the-top courtesy of such establishments, the staff left a bow and closed the door as they exited.
Despite the nationwide stir caused by the two’s divorce, Director Pyo didn’t question why Cha Wonwoo had sent it over. Assuming there was some story behind it, he brushed it aside and focused on the sashimi.
The director’s face lit up with pure bliss as he tasted it. He looked at Siheon with a warm smile, as if gazing at a lucky charm.
Siheon, who’d only been pretending to sip sake and nibble at the food, elegantly picked up a piece of grouper with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. As he chewed and swallowed, a warm, ticklish sensation spread through his chest.
“Thanks to Actor Kang, my taste buds are living the high life. Thank you.”
The meal was filled with cheerful chatter. Siheon, still bound by old habits, avoided drinking heavily with others. Whenever Director Pyo, caught up in the mood, tried to refill his glass, Jinseok deftly intercepted, drinking in his stead.
“I owe a lot to Actor Kang, so I’d better make this movie a masterpiece.”
As they wrapped up and left, Director Pyo gave Siheon’s shoulder a hearty pat. He’d said he’d speak casually once they were “family,” and it seemed he’d already adopted Siheon as one.
Cornered into filming the movie, Siheon could only go along with the vibe and say, “I’m counting on you.”
“I’m gonna hit the restroom, so Jinseok, take Actor Kang and head out first.”
Director Pyo walked off toward the end of the corridor.
Siheon stepped outside with Jinseok. A short path led from the standalone building to a smoking area.
“Siheon, wanna join me for a cigarette?”
The last time they’d seen each other, Siheon had been a smoker. He shook his head.
“Nah, I quit. You going to smoke?”
“No, it’s no fun alone. But you’re tougher than you look, huh? They say to steer clear of people who’ve quit smoking. Did you quit because of Cha Wonwoo?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that. And is quitting smoking really ‘succeeding’? It’s just constant restraint.”
“Fair point.”
Grinning, Jinseok suggested they take a walk instead and started moving. Siheon followed silently.
The smoking area was uniquely set up in a charming pavilion. Like the path to the building, it was surrounded by a pond, with a flowerbed styled as a Japanese garden to match the restaurant’s theme.
Despite being a smoking area, the open space carried no lingering cigarette smell. Without knowing better, one might assume it was designed purely for strolls.
“Man, I ate well. I owe you one too, Siheon.”
Stretching, Jinseok plopped down on the pavilion’s edge.
“I just tagged along for the free meal.”
Human interaction often includes small talk, and this was Siheon’s toughest moment. Used to reciting scripted lines, he could only think of dialogue he’d read in scripts for situations like this.
As he debated what to say, Jinseok eased his burden.
“You don’t ask, huh.”
“Ask what?”
“Just… why I disappeared suddenly. Stuff like that. Aren’t you curious, honestly?”
“Not really.”
“Classic Siheon. I was actually a bit curious, you know. How you managed to pass as a beta so perfectly. Your marriage, things like that. But since you’re not asking, I guess I can’t either.”
There was a trace of fatigue on Jinseok’s face, and Siheon caught a glimpse of something familiar in it. His eyes naturally drifted to the man’s fourth finger.
A faint but long-standing mark where a ring had been.
Sensing his gaze, Jinseok grinned.
“Not gonna ask?”
Siheon shrugged.
“They say there’s no grave without a story. No ring mark without one either. And stories always seem so loud. I’m not a fan of loud things.”
Jinseok burst into hearty laughter, a sound so refreshing it felt like it cleared the air. Yeah, yeah, loud stuff’s the worst. Echoing Siheon’s words, he stood up.
“Your personality’s probably why I was drawn to you back then. I thought you were a beta, so I didn’t try anything, but still.”
Caught off guard by the sudden confession, Siheon clamped his mouth shut, unsure how to respond. Seeing his stiff expression, Jinseok quickly waved his hands.
“No, don’t get me wrong. I’m not hitting on you out of loneliness or anything. I just genuinely want to get along. Like a sense of camaraderie, you know? But if you ever need me, feel free to use me.”
Like someone thawing after being frozen, Siheon stammered.
“Uh, well… why would I… use you… I mean, what would I even need?”
“Who knows? From what I saw earlier, it didn’t seem like things with Cha Wonwoo were completely over. If you’re thinking of getting back together, you could pretend to date me to spark some jealousy.”
Siheon furrowed his brow. No need to provoke Cha Wonwoo, who was already brimming with jealousy. Reconcile? Seeing Siheon’s expression, Jinseok let out another booming laugh.
“But you never know, right? Maybe while filming, we’ll lock eyes or something. Could happen, no?”
Ignoring the comment, Siheon brought up something that had been bothering him.
“I don’t really need anything, but I’d appreciate it if you returned that handkerchief.”
“Handkerchief?”
Siheon pointed to Cha Wonwoo’s handkerchief, barely peeking out of Jinseok’s pocket.
“Oh, forgot about that. I kept smelling something unpleasant.”
Jinseok plucked the handkerchief from his breast pocket with a hum. As Siheon quickly snatched it, Jinseok smiled, his eyes crinkling.
“I got it wrong.”
“Huh?”
“You’re not uninterested in people—you’re just interested in Cha Wonwoo.”
Siheon froze, then hurriedly stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket and turned away.
“Director’s probably waiting. Let’s go.”
Hidden slightly by his hair, the nape of his neck was flushed red.
＊＊＊＊＊
Joining Director Pyo in the parking lot, they found designated drivers arranged by the restaurant waiting by their cars.
“Where’s your manager, Siheon?”
The schedule had gotten tangled with the venue change, so Siheon had taken a taxi instead of having Kangsan drive. Explaining this, Jinseok gestured with his chin.
“Then ride with me. I’ll pay the driver extra to take a detour.”
At that moment, a hand intervened. Siheon turned in surprise to find the hand pulling him by the waist, throwing him off balance. Seizing the moment, it drew him into an embrace.
“We’ll head out in my car.”
It was Cha Wonwoo, who’d been quietly waiting in the shadows until Siheon emerged. He raised an eyebrow slightly at Jinseok.
“No need for my husband to ride in another man’s car.”
To thirty-six-year-old Jinseok, the possessiveness and jealousy of this twenty-eight-year-old dominant alpha seemed almost endearing. Swallowing a laugh, he stepped back, gesturing for them to do as they pleased.
Director Pyo, still savoring the memory of the grouper, exchanged pleasantries with Cha Wonwoo. Wonwoo, as if he’d been waiting for a chance to mingle with his husband’s colleague, was uncharacteristically warm toward the director. Siheon watched the guy, who rarely bothered with office socializing at CH, with a peculiar look.
After agreeing to grab a meal sometime and even exchanging business cards, the two men finally wrapped up.
“Actor Kang, get going!”
Instead of getting into his car, Director Pyo waved Siheon off, urging him to leave first. Cha Wonwoo swiftly whisked Siheon away from the scene.
The driver, Secretary Yang, Siheon, and Cha Wonwoo in the backseat.
Four people were in the car, but aside from the hum of the engine, not a single voice could be heard—just silence. In truth, Siheon was somewhat used to this kind of quiet with this group. It was a situation he’d often experienced in the past.
Propping his chin on his hand without any awkwardness or discomfort, Siheon gazed out the window. So many things passed by before he could even take them in, impossible to hold onto.
“…”
“…”
Thud. Breaking the stillness, Cha Wonwoo leaned forward and rested his face on Siheon’s thigh. He slowly rubbed his cheek against it, let out a weary sigh, and closed his eyes.
For a while, Siheon looked down at him before raising his hand to cover Wonwoo’s eyes.
“Get some sleep.”
Both deliberately avoided mentioning the arranged meeting. Siheon just wanted to shield the exhausted man—from the dazzling, chaotic city lights.
＊＊＊＊＊
“What?”
Just as he was about to shower upon arriving home, Cha Wonwoo’s face hardened as he answered an urgent phone call.
“I’ll be right there—have them wait.”
Siheon, halfway into the bathroom, poked his head out.
“What’s wrong? Something up?”
“Oh, some urgent business came up, so I’ve got to head out. You’ll be okay, right, hyung?”
“What’s there to not be okay about? Go ahead.”
Cha Wonwoo approached, fidgeting nervously, then pulled Siheon into a tight hug. Barely five minutes later, another call came from Secretary Yang, who rarely rushed him. Gnawing at his lip, Wonwoo looked at Siheon with a face full of reluctance before finally leaving.
What’s going on? Siheon felt a twinge of worry but brushed it off as probably nothing major and climbed into the wide bed alone to sleep.
The next day.
When he opened his eyes, the spot beside him was still empty. Wonwoo hadn’t come back. Rising anxiety was pushed down with a deep breath.
Lee Kangsan
I’m here! Ready, hyungnim?
Yeah.
Cool, come out whenever you’re ready~
I’m heading out now.
Today was the day Siheon was set to review the contract for Director Pyo Wook-jun’s film with CEO Heo.
“Hyungnim! Morning! How’d the meeting go yesterday?”
Waiting in the parking lot, Kangsan chattered excitedly about the meeting but clammed up once he took the wheel. He knew Siheon preferred quiet drives.
For once, Siheon had dozed off, and after a long drive, the car slowed down.
“Hyungnim, we’re here! I’ll park, but I’ve got to make a quick call to sort out your schedule. Head up first!”
“Alright.”
Instead of using the artist entrance, Kangsan dropped him off at the underground company entrance, right by the elevator, before circling to the designated parking spot.
Yawning as he scanned his fingerprint at the underground door, Siheon was about to press the elevator button when his phone rang.
Caller: Byeon Haewon.
“Hello?”
—You met Jinseok-hyung yesterday?
Siheon half-expected Haewon to be fishing for gratitude over helping with the Ye Jeonghyeon incident. Instead, it was a blunt question.
Watching the elevator numbers descend from the top floor, Siheon replied, incredulous.
“What, you spying on me too, Byeon Haewon? I’m too scared to meet anyone now.”
—Scared? Yo, Kang Siheon, you don’t even know what’s actually scary right now.
“Oh, come on, what now?”
—You haven’t seen the article, have you? Korea Patch dropped an exclusive this morning.
Siheon flinched, instinctively grimacing. The stress from recent articles made him recoil.
“That word’s banned for now. I don’t even want to hear the ‘g’ in ‘gisa’ (article).”
—Your last name’s Kang, and you’re saying that? Anyway, I got a call from Reporter Park—apparently, it was a desk war from yesterday to early this morning.
“What? What does some gossip rag’s desk war have to do with me?”
Haewon shouted.
—How’s it not related? It’s super related! There’s an article about Cha Wonwoo!
“…What? What kind of article?”
—He got photographed with the youngest son of Rozen Petrochemical, and it’s a mess. You know, the son from the chairman’s second wife. Dominant omega. Was their arranged meeting legit?
The arranged meeting partner Siheon had picked must’ve been Rozen Petrochemical’s youngest son. He wasn’t one to memorize the faces or affairs of chaebol families, but the person Haewon mentioned had popped up in articles before and was someone Siheon had exchanged greetings with at parties.
As the faceless, floating image of the arranged meeting partner suddenly materialized, Siheon’s mood soured sharply.
“Cha Wonwoo can meet whoever he wants. It’s not like he’s going to stay celibate forever.”
Trying to sound as indifferent as possible, Siheon jabbed the elevator button repeatedly for no reason.
—No, that’s not it! People are saying he was cheating on you during your marriage, meeting secretly behind your back, and now going public. All sorts of nasty rumors are sticking to Cha Wonwoo right now.
“…”
Siheon shifted his foot restlessly, and the rubber sole of his shoe scraped the floor with an unpleasant screech.
—Your name keeps coming up too, Kang Siheon. They say there was an order to keep your name out as much as possible, but still.
When was the last time I dealt with one issue? Sighing, Siheon pulled his cap down irritably. In a lower voice, he asked.
“Fine, forget the Cha Wonwoo article. How’d you know I met sunbae-nim?”
The background noise on the phone suddenly quieted, as if Haewon had moved somewhere else.
—You’re so prickly without even knowing the details. Listen up. According to info Reporter Park dug up, CH Group sent photos and leaned hard to get the articles published.
Siheon looked up to see the red numbers counting down toward his floor.
—One’s about Cha Wonwoo’s arranged meeting with Rozen Petrochemical’s youngest son.
B1. Basement 1.
—The other’s a scandal about you and Jinseok-hyung.
“What? What scandal?”
B2. Basement 2.
—According to Reporter Park, both came down through Chairman Cha’s line, but somehow Cha Wonwoo’s side found out and pushed back through Department Head Cha’s line to kill the articles. Hence, desk war!
B3. Basement 3.
—With CH’s ad money, payoffs, and all the wining and dining, the higher-ups were too busy fighting. Different factions, you know. So they spent all night battling at the desk, unable to decide, and guess what happened?
B4. Basement 4.
Ding—! The elevator doors opened wide.
—At dawn, Cha Wonwoo himself showed up at the desk with a legal team in tow.
[Exclusive] CH’s Cha Wonwoo in a Rosy Meeting with Rozen Petrochemical’s Im Jaehan?
(Cha Wonwoo and Im Jaehan walking separately toward the parking lot.jpg)
(Im Jaehan getting into a car opened by a secretary.jpg)
(Cha Wonwoo standing at a distance with a stern expression.jpg)
A discreet meeting took place at a Cheongdam Japanese restaurant, already well-known among those who appreciate fine knife work. None other than a rendezvous between third-generation chaebols.
(Im Jaehan’s back as he arrives first and enters.jpg)
◆ A Secret Arranged Meeting?
Last night, CH Group’s heir ‘Cha Wonwoo’ and Rozen Petrochemical’s ‘Im Jaehan’ dined together at a Cheongdam Japanese restaurant. The meal was brief—both men are busy with packed schedules.
Department Head Cha Wonwoo is currently spearheading CH Group’s core electronics division, working on establishing a U.S. foundry, while Im Jaehan, a management leader, is steadily increasing his stake in the holding company alongside his two older sisters as part of succession planning.
(Cha Wonwoo exiting to the parking lot first, with Im Jaehan trailing behind.jpg)
The two men, responsible for their companies’ futures, enjoyed a short meal and headed to the parking lot. Perhaps mindful of their surroundings, they didn’t converse, but Department Head Cha Wonwoo stayed in the lot until Im Jaehan’s car was out of sight.
(Im Jaehan’s car leaving first.jpg)
(Cha Wonwoo’s profile, standing still as if waiting for someone.jpg)
◆ Too Soon to Tell?
Regarding their meeting, CH Group’s legal representative stated, “(The arranged meeting) is a personal matter we cannot confirm. Even if true, we’re taking a cautious stance for now.”
Rozen Petrochemical’s PR team similarly responded, “We don’t know the owner family’s plans. If there’s good news, it’ll come out naturally.”
A source close to the matter hinted, “It hasn’t been long since Department Head Cha announced his divorce. Both groups have to tread carefully. The priority is ensuring his divorce filing is finalized. Until then, they’re likely to avoid clarifying the relationship and maintain the current state.”
When pressed by this outlet on what ‘current state’ meant, the cryptic reply was, “Well, that’s up to interpretation, isn’t it?”
(A past photo of the two shaking hands at a party.jpg)
◆ A Couple with a Promising Future
It’s certainly too early to define their relationship. To some, it might just look like a friendly meetup between chaebol heirs of similar backgrounds and ages. But a single dominant alpha and a dominant omega—a beautiful, perfect pairing even betas can understand.
Will their meeting bear fruit? Korea Patch will be rooting for them alongside the public.
[Photos and article by Koreapatch = News Team]
After reading the article, Siheon scrolled back to the beginning, slowly taking in the polished photos.
The two men walked too far apart to seem like lovers. Unlike Im Jaehan, none of Cha Wonwoo’s shots captured his face head-on. Probably because his expression was sour the whole time—it’s hard to spin “rosy” with a face that grim.
Cha Wonwoo and Im Jaehan. Considering the marriage customs of the chaebol world, where strategic unions are the norm, they were undeniably a solid match. Siheon’s gaze lingered on the words, “A dominant alpha and a dominant omega. This beautiful, perfect pairing.”
“Maybe I should hold a ritual or something.”
In the CEO’s office at Sori Entertainment, CEO Heo muttered as he arrived with a stack of contracts. Beyond the agreement for Director Pyo Wook-jun’s film, there were quite a few other documents. When Heo set the hefty pile on the table, it landed with a solid thud. Pocketing his phone, Siheon spoke up.
“Isn’t this all a sign my comeback’s going to be massive? Let’s call it warding off bad luck or something.”
Pulling out a chair across from him, CEO Heo sat down and said.
“Still, looking at the article reactions, no one’s badmouthing you, Actor Kang. They’re all going wild saying you’re pitiful.”
Siheon frowned, clearly displeased.
“Ugh, being pitied is the worst.”
Heo’s eyes widened.
“Come on, sympathy’s better than hate.”
“Our CEO’s in trouble. Your instincts are slipping. Being pitiful isn’t sexy.”
Siheon, once voted “The sexiest man you’d want waiting for you in a supercar outside school”, snapped back grumpily. Shaking his head as if giving up, Heo slid a few papers across.
“I figured you’d say that, Actor Kang. So I came prepared. These are just rough drafts for now.”
The white sheets contained early versions of articles and a few headlines.
“Kang Siheon & Lee Jinseok’s Comeback Project! GOOD ENM Commits 10 Billion Won Investment”
“Actor Kang Siheon, the New Face of Cheongryang Soju After a Decade”
“Kang Siheon Fronts The Grace Apartments, Perfectly Matching Its Luxe Image”
“Production Budget of 40 Billion Won… Kang Siheon in Talks for OTT’s Most Anticipated Lead!”
The moment Siheon set the papers down, he met Heo’s eyes. Beaming with pride, Heo’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling and shoulders raised half an inch higher than usual, like an excited kid. Seeing his smug expression, Siheon couldn’t help but grin back.
“You worked hard. I heard a lot of places were playing hardball over whether to sign with me.”
“The Ye Jeonghyeon incident—you flipped public opinion on that one, Actor Kang. Now we’ve got to take control of the game.”
“But if I ride all these up, isn’t Cha Wonwoo bound to be at the top?”
Siheon leaned back in his chair leisurely. Heo, feigning a stern tone, pointed out.
“Sure, some of these have Department Head Cha’s influence. But this is your doing, Actor Kang. Without your skills, none of it would’ve happened.”
“Why the blatant praise? It’s embarrassing.”
Averting his gaze slightly, Siheon scratched his cheek with a long finger. Then, recalling the last headline, he let out an “Ah” and tossed out a question.
“The ads make sense, but what’s with that drama at the end?”
“Thought we’d try a drama.”
Rummaging through the stack and somehow finding exactly what he needed, Heo handed over a booklet. It was a drama synopsis with scripts for episodes one through four. Checking the director and writer before diving in, Siheon looked at Heo with a face full of anticipation.
“This lineup’s insane. Is this really for me?”
Just to be sure, he flipped open the synopsis and started reading the character list. The role offered to him was highlighted by the agency, easy to spot.
It was a big-budget genre piece, matching its massive production scale. What caught Siheon’s eye most was the worldbuilding—no alphas, no omegas. In short, he’d been offered a starring role in this blockbuster, not as an omega.
“Like you said, Actor Kang, Director Pyo’s film is about artistic merit. For box-office buzz, dramas hit hard, right? The schedule’s flexible too, so it won’t clash with the movie shoot. Unless there’s a delay, but that’s up to fate. Oh, and there’s a rom-com offer too—network TV.”
“Romantic comedy means omega, right?”
“Nope, beta. Don’t look so shocked. I told you—it’s your talent, Actor Kang. Sure, you still get some… omega roles, but PDs and writers you’ve worked with before think highly of you, so good parts are coming in too.”
Siheon clamped his lips tight to hold back a laugh that threatened to spill out.
His ruined heart tickled. He’d thought the ashes of his shattered world were just desolate, but something stubborn was still struggling to bloom amidst the wreckage. The fact that a few roles felt like sweet rain in a drought, soaking in and stirring his heart, proved it.
Noticing the faint flush blooming on Siheon’s cheeks under his cap, Heo deftly changed the subject.
“The 40-billion-won OTT project is an eight-episode season. No romance with a woman, but there’s a deep bromance with a guy.”
“Who’s the other actor?”
“They’re talking to a few people. Once you decide whether to take it, they’ll match faces and all that.”
“As long as it doesn’t mess with the movie shoot, I’m in.”
The two sat across from each other, meticulously reviewing the documents. Beyond the major projects, there were plenty of smaller shoots: a “What’s in My Bag” segment for a fashion magazine featuring a requested handbag, a vlog for fans, and even in-house agency content.
Sori Entertainment’s in-house content was a collab between actors and singers, and Siheon’s segment involved a senior counseling a junior’s worries. The concept was opening a cozy, simple late-night diner where a junior visits, and Siheon cooks for them, eating together while having heartfelt talks.
Siheon checked the singer slated to join him—a member of an idol group. Frowning slightly, he spoke up.
“Isn’t it a bit weird pairing a thirty-something actor with a twenty-something idol?”
Did his instincts really slip? Should I send him some ginseng? Before he could add that, Heo scoffed, telling him to quit whining.
“I don’t buy your complaints, Actor Kang. Face complaints.”
Heo was an unapologetic fan of Kang Siheon’s looks. Chuckling, Siheon nodded, conceding quickly. Idols have their own charm, and all he had to do was play the handsome, cool, sexy senior to make fans’ hearts flutter. Plus, rolling up his sleeves to cook could add some appeal.
He wasn’t much of a cook, so maybe he’d need to bulk up his arms. Cha Wonwoo’s forearms always looked so rugged and sexy when he rolled up his shirt sleeves to work.
Nodding to himself seriously before Heo could interrupt, Siheon finally signed the contract for Director Pyo’s film as well.
“By the way, CEO, you’re planning to work me to the bone. I won’t have a moment to breathe.”
“Didn’t we say we’re building a new office? I’m scouting land these days, so you’d better hustle, Actor Kang.”
“Yes, sir, off to work I go.”
Scrape. Dragging his chair back, Siheon stood. Heo, tidying the papers by tapping them on the table, stood too and asked.
“No schedules after this—what’s the work?”
Siheon waved his phone.
“Gotta cheer up the scandal star.”
“Oh, heading to Department Head Cha’s place for pheromone reasons, huh? You okay?”
The question carried layers of meaning. Being with an ex-husband, that ex-husband having an arranged meeting, and that meeting hitting the news—various factors were weighing on Siheon and Cha Wonwoo emotionally.
With work talk done, Siheon’s face sank quickly, though not as much as before. Clearly, Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones were gradually stabilizing his heart.
Swallowing a bitter smile, Siheon said.
“I don’t even know if I’m okay or not anymore.”
He’d steeled himself for the divorce, but Wonwoo kept lingering in his sight.
The foolish guy kept trying so hard to protect him, and it felt so pitiful. The article was no different.
If a scandal with Jinseok had broken, the gossip-hungry public would’ve spewed all sorts of nonsense. No matter how much they explained it was for a film or that the director was there, people would’ve framed Siheon and Jinseok in juicy rumors.
That much, he could handle. It could even be spun as noise marketing for the movie. But Cha Wonwoo had brought a legal team to shut it down.
“Reporter Park said the vibe was intense. The desk was caught because they’d taken stuff from Chairman Cha, so spiking both articles was tricky. Cha Wonwoo was threatening lawsuits and shutdowns, and eventually, even Chairman Cha’s people showed up.”
Hearing Haewon’s words, Siheon felt powerless. You’re trying to protect me, but once again, I couldn’t protect you. His petty pride stung too.
“Cha Wonwoo and Chairman Cha’s people talked for a while, and they decided not to run the scandal about you and Jinseok-hyung, only publishing the story about Cha Wonwoo’s arranged meeting.”
It hadn’t been long since the Ye Jeonghyeon issue was resolved, and another scandal like this would’ve hurt Siheon’s image. Since Chairman Cha was likely behind it, Cha Wonwoo wanted to protect Siheon from that old man. His intentions were obvious.
Siheon had divorced Cha Wonwoo to avoid hurting him, but things weren’t going as planned.
“I’ll get going.”
Letting out a sigh, Siheon waved. CEO Heo looked at him with sunken eyes and said.
“Actor Kang, do you know what a sparrow has to do to keep up with a stork?”
“What’s with the random metaphor?”
“The sparrow’s you, and the stork’s CH. No matter how hard you stretch your legs, can you take on that viper, Chairman Cha? You can’t. The only one who ends up torn is you, Actor Kang.”
Heo pointed at Siheon’s chest.
“Just like your heart’s tearing right now.”
The playfulness vanished from Heo’s face, replaced by traces of someone who’d dealt with people, run a business, and survived this long. Deep wrinkles marked it—not knowledge, but the imprint of hard-earned wisdom.
“There’s only one way for a sparrow to keep up with a stork.”
“…What’s that way?”
Hesitating, Siheon asked, and Heo answered gravely.
“Ride on the stork’s back.”
“…”
“Cha Wonwoo is CH. Ride on Department Head Cha’s back. That way, neither your legs nor your heart will tear. That stork will never let you fall, Actor Kang. So trust him a little. I know it’s not something to say to someone who’s already decided to divorce, but…”
Grabbing the doorknob of the CEO’s office, Siheon gave a faint smile and muttered.
“You should’ve told me sooner.”
“Since Chairman Cha woke up, has there been anything you’ve done because you wanted to, Actor Kang? From what I’ve seen, there hasn’t. That’s why I let you go through with the divorce on your terms.”
Carrying a hefty stack of documents back to his desk, Heo continued.
“I don’t know everything that happened between you and Chairman Cha Hyuncheol. Neither does Department Head Cha. You’re the only one who knows, so the choice is yours, Actor Kang. But divorce might not be the only answer.”
Thud. Heo set the papers on the desk and clapped his hands. Smack—! The sound rang out lightly.
“That’s my piece. Now get going. I’m busy.”
Kicked out at the perfect moment, Siheon closed the office door and didn’t head straight for the elevator. Instead, he walked down the long corridor to a spacious lounge area at the end and opened a window. A cool breeze and city noise rushed in. Siheon lingered there for a while.
Like a bird circling aimlessly, lost.
“Hyung.”
He’d meant to soar confidently forward, but he kept looking back.
“Hyung.”
That gentle call, that warm touch and embrace, those eyes fixed only on him—they kept pulling him back.
Siheon’s hand gripped the windowsill tightly, veins bulging blue. He couldn’t waver. Swallowing hard, he forced down his fragile heart.
Just then, as if snatching his fledgling wings, his phone rang sharply. Startled, Siheon checked the message.
[Secretary Baek]
Chairman requests to see you. I’ll come to your place tomorrow to escort you.
The hunter’s muzzle, aiming to clip his wings, was once again locked on target.
The dense forest of buildings glowed red. At sunset, with skyscrapers bathed in the fading light, exhausted faces poured out of office entrances.
Amid the rush-hour chaos of Teheran-ro, a large sedan pulled up to CH headquarters. It stopped at an exclusive area reserved for executives, avoiding the paths of regular employees. A man stepped out from the passenger seat.
Managing Director Baek Sangkang. A sturdy man, he was Chairman Cha Hyuncheol’s right hand and head of CH Group’s strategic planning secretarial team. For over twenty years, he’d served the chairman 24/7—whether at the company, the Hannam-dong residence, or elsewhere. Known as the chairman’s shadow and trusted aide, he opened the sedan’s back door with practiced ease.
“Please step out.”
Receiving Baek’s courteous escort, Siheon emerged. Handcrafted shoes from Italy’s finest atelier touched CH soil. Everything he wore today carried Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones.
“You want me to pick your outfit, hyung?”
“I’m meeting someone big. Don’t want to look intimidated.”
Last night, Siheon had shown Cha Wonwoo a few suits he’d brought from home. Wonwoo’s face lit up with surprise.
“Hyung, you don’t wear stuff this expensive. And this…”
Wonwoo’s gaze landed on a bespoke suit. Reaching out, he checked the lining, finding the tailor’s signature embroidery. John Seymour. A Savile Row tailor serving British aristocracy for over three centuries. A suit made for Cha Wonwoo’s direct family.
Siheon, bringing such a meaningful piece, asked with a sheepish look.
“It’s an important meeting. Which one looks best to you?”
Naturally, Wonwoo chose the John Seymour suit crafted for Siheon. Its British style—strong shoulders, sharp waistline, and solid chest—emphasized balance and confidence. The one-of-a-kind garment, when Siheon woke that morning, was already steeped in Wonwoo’s pheromones.
“I don’t know who you’re meeting, hyung, but I’m a dominant alpha. Most people would shrink just approaching you with my scent on you.”
Such a childish act, yet he wore a proud expression. Seeing this first thing in the morning, Siheon, still half-asleep, let out a deflated chuckle. If Wonwoo knew who he was meeting today, he wouldn’t look so smug.
“Hold on.”
Disappearing into the wardrobe, Wonwoo returned with a square cufflink in black and shimmering blue, along with a tie.
“This isn’t doll dress-up. You look way too excited.”
“If you were a doll, hyung, I’d have bought them all. No one else could buy or sell them.”
“How?”
“Lobbying. I’ve got money to burn.”
Approaching the neatly hung suit, Wonwoo held up the tie and smiled, satisfied. His eyes seemed to already picture Siheon in the outfit, tie knotted.
When Siheon, fresh from a shower, changed and went to tie it, Wonwoo darted over.
“Let me do it.”
Handing it over without protest, Siheon caught Wonwoo’s slightly puzzled look as he studied him carefully. Perhaps worried about ruining the moment with careless words, Wonwoo said nothing and tied the tie around Siheon’s neck. Both couldn’t help but recall the Japanese restaurant. Back then, too, Wonwoo had tied his tie in the restroom like this.
Stroking the knot he’d made, Wonwoo slid his long fingers down, letting the tie—flowing over Siheon’s chest, sternum, and lower abdomen—rest in his palm. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head. His unbound hair spilled softly.
Glancing up, Wonwoo fixed his gaze on Siheon’s lips and pressed his own to the tie. Lightly at first, then deeper. His flushed face burned with heat.
What’s this embarrassing nonsense first thing in the morning? Before Siheon could frown, the cunning Wonwoo pulled his lips away.
“Looks good, hyung.”
“What does.”
“The kiss.”
What a weirdo. Watching Wonwoo’s thumb linger on the spot his lips had touched before letting go, Siheon said softly.
“Your rut’s coming soon, isn’t it? Take your suppressants.”
Even without triggering, Wonwoo’s pheromones carried a misty scent. Raising an eyebrow, he replied he was already handling it.
“This way.”
Lost in the morning’s memories, Siheon’s brisk steps had brought him to the floor of Chairman Cha Hyuncheol’s office. As he stepped out of the elevator, the secretarial staff stood in unison, bowing to Managing Director Baek and Siheon.
Even for Siheon, used to being surrounded by countless people on set, the synchronized precision of their movements felt awkward.
“Back to work, everyone.”
At Baek’s command, they returned to their tasks.
Facing the office door, Siheon mentally prepared himself.
Somewhere unseen, a camera was rolling, and he was simply playing a given character. No need to fear or shrink back excessively. Almost unconsciously, he lifted the tie, brushing his lips lightly against the spot where Wonwoo’s kiss had landed. The final step in his ritual.
“Just in case you forgot,” Baek said before opening the door, offering advice.
“Move to the left as soon as you enter.”
Glancing at him, Siheon nodded.
“Yes, I remember.”
With the signal that he was ready, Baek opened the door.
The moment Siheon stepped inside and moved left, a golf ball whizzed through the air, narrowly grazing his face. Without so much as blinking, Siheon watched it ricochet off the wall and roll across the floor. Behind him, Secretary Baek closed the door, acting as if he’d seen nothing.
Siheon and Chairman Cha Hyuncheol. Between the two silent men, the only sound was a golf tutorial blaring from the office’s old CRT television.
“The first step to becoming a rhythmic golfer: relax your grip and wrist strength. After addressing the ball, extend your arms, then shake the wrist holding the club side to side.”
Chairman Cha placed a fresh golf ball on the green putting mat spread across the floor. Adjusting his stance while glancing at the screen, he waggled his wrist a few times to get the feel before timing his putt. Tap. With a crisp strike, the ball traced a straight line across the mat, sliding neatly into the hole. Only then did he speak.
“You don’t want bad swing habits to take root, but too many people don’t realize it. Fixing them isn’t easy.”
The ball, having sunk into the hole, rolled back to him along the outer rail via the mat’s automatic retrieval system.
“It’s the same with a painting. Drawing on a blank canvas is simple, but correcting something already flawed is tough.”
“…”
“And even that has limits. When no amount of effort yields results, there’s only one option left.”
Adjusting the ball’s position with the head of his club, he spread his legs, took his stance, and continued.
“You discard the ruined paper and start fresh on a blank sheet.”
“…”
“Scrap it,” he added coldly.
Raising his club high, Chairman Cha unleashed a full swing. This ball, too, zipped perilously close to Siheon’s face. It struck the wall, bouncing wildly and crashing into a display stand on one side of the office. Trophies from CH’s sports teams clattered to the floor with a racket.
“Tch.” Clicking his tongue, Chairman Cha furrowed his brow.
On the CRT, the golfer chirped brightly, “Rhythm is key!” Chairman Cha walked to his desk, picked up the remote, and aimed it at the noisy TV. With a press of the power button, silence descended instantly.
Leaning against the desk, he kicked one of the scattered balls. It veered far from the hole, rolling toward Siheon. Gripping his club again, Chairman Cha stood before the putting mat. Lowering his head to focus, his gaze caught a pair of pristine leather shoes stepping closer. Siheon’s shoes.
Placing the white ball in front of Chairman Cha’s club, Siheon spoke.
“Throwing something away just because one part’s off or lacking isn’t the right way. Especially when it comes to people.”
Straightening up, Siheon locked eyes with Chairman Cha and continued.
“After waking from your coma, the first thing you picked up was a golf club, wasn’t it? You said golf’s a full-body exercise, great for rehabilitating atrophied muscles. But you don’t have the stamina for the course yet.”
Chairman Cha moved his arms. Tap. With no hesitation, the ball drew a perfect arc, sucked into the hole. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his temple. As Siheon said, a swing worked the whole body.
“Your stamina’s not what it used to be, but no one tells you to step back from the front lines.”
Cold eyes turned to Siheon, but he didn’t stop.
“It was the same when you were unconscious. Even when some said there was no hope and to give up, Wonwoo never did.”
“…”
“But just because he doesn’t move exactly as you want, you’d…”
He couldn’t finish, clamping his mouth shut. Scrap him. A blatant threat. If it was about eliminating Siheon himself, like some melodramatic plot, that’d be one thing. But Chairman Cha was threatening to discard Cha Wonwoo from his place as CH’s heir.
“Look here, Mr. Kang.”
Chairman Cha’s low voice called Siheon’s name. Using a title he’d rarely acknowledged during their marriage was clearly meant to insult.
“You’ve gotten awfully cocky since we last met.”
He pressed the golf club’s shaft against Siheon’s sternum. Tensing his jaw and bracing himself, Siheon pushed back, refusing to be shoved.
“That Im Jaehan I picked this time wasn’t much either, was he? Didn’t I tell you before? To produce a proper heir, you need a dominant omega—and a woman.”
“…”
“Your choices are always wrong. Honestly, I’m disappointed.”
With a scornful glance, Chairman Cha spun around, sliding his club into the caddy bag. He rummaged through a jacket hung nearby, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, and stood by the window overlooking the city. As he puffed away, staring at the bustling rush-hour streets, Siheon stood quietly a short distance away, hands clasped behind his back.
“Honestly, I’m disappointed.”
He’d heard those words before.
It was when Chairman Cha’s sudden health crisis had shaken CH Group to its core. Taking advantage of the chaos, Cha Eunho—Chairman Cha’s second son, Wonwoo’s uncle, and president of CH Construction—tried to oust his nephew. Though he’d been preparing steadily, Cha Wonwoo, thrust abruptly into leadership, fought grueling battles both within and outside the company.
Every night, Cha Wonwoo could only sleep by holding Siheon or being held by him. Exhausted as he looked, Siheon couldn’t tell him to take it easy. That moment was an opportunity for Wonwoo too—to cut out the rotten parts of Chairman Cha’s entrenched network, plant his own people, and reshape the board.
Then, miraculously, Chairman Cha woke up. Siheon visited the hospital room with Wonwoo. While Wonwoo stepped out for a work call, the first words Chairman Cha spoke to Siheon were unforgettable.
“A beta would’ve been better. Recessives are all defective.”
The rasping voice, mixed with dry coughs, burrowed into Siheon’s mind. Baek brought a basin for the chairman to spit phlegm into. The frail old man, who’d looked withered with his eyes closed, now dissected Siheon with blazing eyes. A predator’s gaze, leaving no flesh or bone untouched.
“He’s my blood, but this choice—honestly, I’m disappointed.”
After drinking water from Baek, Chairman Cha suddenly hurled the cup—not at Siheon, but at Baek. The plastic cup struck the stoic man’s shoulder and rolled across the floor, the remaining water trickling down Baek’s suit.
“Didn’t I tell you? Wonwoo takes after his weak mother, so keep a close eye to make sure he doesn’t stray. And you let this mess happen? What, did my words stop mattering because I looked like a living corpse?”
“No, sir. My apologies.”
Baek bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. The oppressive aura of a dominant alpha filled the room, suffocating.
With a flick of his hand, Chairman Cha signaled Baek closer. Bending forward without hesitation, Baek took two light slaps to the cheek from the chairman’s firm hand, accompanied by a fishy smirk.
“Do better. You know what happens to a horse that’s no use on the board—it gets removed once it loses value. You don’t want all your hard work to go to waste, do you? Let’s see, you’re a managing director now, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Soon, you’ll get an executive director title and a division post. That’s how you’ll live out your days golfing with me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Baek stepped back. Turning his head, Chairman Cha looked at Siheon.
“And you’re Kang Siheon, was it?”
Could dominant alphas infuse their voices with pheromones or aura? The serpentine, chilling tone made Siheon’s heart lurch. The chairman’s face lost its smile.
“CH isn’t some corner store. Do you even know what that seat means to just plop into it?”
“…”
“You’ve put me in a tough spot. I was planning to seat the majority party leader’s daughter next to Wonwoo.”
Some actor, tch.
Siheon clenched his fists so hard his nails dug in at the disdainful mutter. Chairman Cha sighed.
“Given my state, I’ll have to let Wonwoo have his way for now to keep him in line.”
With a calm, cold expression, he signaled Baek with his eyes. Baek retrieved a tablet PC from the side and showed Siheon the screen, narrating in a monotone.
“It’s a clinical trial CH Foundation has been funding for a while. A chip that artificially regulates hormones and pheromones. Think of it as a treatment to elevate recessives to average or even dominant levels. No need to review it now. We don’t know when the young master will return, so you can discuss it later.”
It meant they viewed recessives as something to be fixed. Baek put the tablet away. Chairman Cha spoke.
“Without an heir, Wonwoo’s just a candle in the wind. You see how pathetic it is? The way they pounce when they sense an opening.”
“…”
“If you don’t want Wonwoo’s seat stolen by those types, follow along quietly. I hope the trial yields good results. I went out of my way to put your name on it.”
That’s when it started.
Siheon’s pheromones began fluctuating erratically.
The recollection stopped there. As hazy smoke filled the office, Chairman Cha, who’d been standing by the window, began to move. Siheon snapped out of the past, focusing on the chairman’s actions. The man walked past Siheon, holding a cigarette with a shortened filter.
“The smell’s strong. He’s my blood, but it’s pungent.”
He was referring to Cha Wonwoo’s pheromone scent lingering on Siheon’s clothes. Chairman Cha stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. Despite his words, his expression seemed quite amused.
“Still, it’s proof he’s a dominant alpha like me.”
One of an alpha’s instincts: an intense obsession with their mate and reproduction.
The cloying possessiveness in pheromones grows thicker and heavier the more dominant the alpha. Especially when laced with intent to protect a mate, it’s enough to make another alpha feel a bone-chilling threat. Yet Chairman Cha, far from being repelled by the aggressive scent stinging his nose, curled his lips in satisfaction.
Even so, he didn’t forget to spit a warning at Siheon through twisted teeth.
“There are plenty of secrets between you and me, Mr. Kang. But don’t forget—I hold the better cards. Keep this up, and it’s not just troublesome—it’s offensive.”
Sitting in the office chair, Chairman Cha crossed his legs. He pulled a sealed document from a drawer and placed it on the desk with a thud. A large photo slipped out from the papers, sliding toward Siheon. It was the face of a young woman.
“Wonwoo will remarry the daughter of Majority Leader Cho Soojung.”
The acrid air stung Siheon’s throat with a sharp pang.
“You have no idea how hard I worked. Wonwoo’s a used man now, and he’s been flaunting his childish games with you publicly. It’s embarrassing for me to face Assemblyman Cho. But I can’t let this slip. Their family’s worn the Mugunghwa badge for generations. Cho’s late wife’s side is full of legal professionals.”
“…”
“Do you see the kind of support Wonwoo will get? So, if he asks you to pick his next match—”
Chairman Cha tapped the woman’s photo with his finger.
“Choose this girl and send her.”
“…”
“It’s a meeting I’d arrange regardless of you. Might as well help out—it’s better for both of us.”
Did she agree to this? Or was she, too, forced into this treatment by her parents and family? There was no way to know. Siheon stared at her face for a moment before politely sliding the photo back to Chairman Cha.
“I’m sorry, Chairman, but there won’t be a next time.”
“…”
“I could walk into hell with Wonwoo, but I won’t push him there myself anymore. No—I can’t. I won’t.”
Siheon still couldn’t explain what drove him to choose a match, book the restaurant, and show up there—or how he felt in those moments. The only conclusion he could draw was that he was selfish.
He’d pushed for divorce but couldn’t fully let go. He’d vowed to cut ties but felt jealous and lingered messily. He shouldn’t have. Even if it killed him, he should’ve handled his pheromone issues alone and kept more distance from Wonwoo.
Why wouldn’t things go as planned? Why did they cling to each other so desperately, as if they were all the other had? What was this thing called a heart? What made their love so peculiarly intense?
Could it be… imprinting?
As Siheon entertained the slim possibility, Chairman Cha spoke.
“Is that so?”
Sliding the photo and documents back into the drawer, Chairman Cha bared his viper-like fangs. At that moment, the office door burst open.
A dominant alpha’s aura flooded the room, ruthlessly overpowering Chairman Cha’s. Someone approached from behind and grabbed Siheon’s hand. Unlike the tidal wave of energy sweeping the office, the touch was careful.
“Let’s go.”
Siheon, still reeling from his tangled thoughts, didn’t move. The same hand gently wrapped around his waist.
“Get out.”
The soothing voice was calm, but the hand on Siheon’s waist trembled. Snapping to his senses, Siheon turned.
Cha Wonwoo stood beside him, his expression unreadable.
“You…”
Without looking at him, Wonwoo spoke. A cold, emotionless voice poured toward Chairman Cha.
“You can talk to me directly later, Chairman.”
Ignoring the old man’s displeased look, Wonwoo stepped aside to let Siheon exit first.
Outside the chairman’s office, Secretary Baek stood with a stern expression, but Wonwoo passed him without a word. Baek didn’t stop him. Keeping his hand on Siheon’s waist, Wonwoo boarded the elevator.
An uneasy silence filled the moving elevator. Their destination: the department head’s office.
Having founded CH Financial and achieved immense success, Cha Wonwoo earned recognition for his management skills, buying up CH shares through a listing and taking steps toward succession. He was warmly welcomed as head of the main business division at headquarters.
When Chairman Cha collapsed unexpectedly, Wonwoo led the company as interim CEO, and his contributions earned him a swift promotion to vice president, with expectations of full succession.
But against everyone’s predictions, after Chairman Cha awoke, Wonwoo remained a department head.
Deliberate exclusion from promotion and a power struggle with the chairman.
“You’re here.”
Stepping off at the department head’s floor, Secretary Yang bowed. Exchanging a glance with her, Siheon was ushered into Wonwoo’s office.
Click. The door closed, settling into a stillness like the calm before a storm.
Behind was the door; ahead, Cha Wonwoo blocked the way.
“Are we talking like this? Move a bit.”
Trapped between them, Siheon tried to slip away, but Wonwoo leaned forward, his large frame looming. Bracing one hand beside Siheon’s face, he looked down at him.
“Hyung.”
His voice was heavy, restrained. But his eyes and face betrayed an anger he couldn’t fully hide.
“Sometimes, hyung, you make people feel like idiots.”
Me? Make you?
Siheon always thought it was Cha Wonwoo who made him feel like an idiot. Of course, he’d never let anyone else get away with it—only Wonwoo. Only with Wonwoo and the things tied to him did everything blur, leaving Siheon unable to see the path or the answers.
Standing still, Siheon spoke.
“Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”
“…”
“If I’d told you I was meeting the chairman, what would you have done?”
Wonwoo clenched his jaw. His expression screamed that it wasn’t even a question worth asking. Letting out a heavy breath, his hot, sharp exhale tickled Siheon’s face.
“Hyung, do you think I’m mad because you kept it from me?”
“Then what? You’re the one who said you hate me hiding things, who asked me to pick your match. You didn’t care if it hurt me and were brutally honest, but now you’re mad because I kept something from you, right?”
Wonwoo’s expression subtly hardened as he listened. The heaving shoulders and chest, tense with suppressed anger, gradually settled as he regained composure. The fury seemed to evaporate, replaced by a meticulous scrutiny of Siheon’s face, like examining something under a microscope.
Without thinking, Siheon asked.
“What?”
“You… got hurt?”
A relentless gaze clung to him, unwilling to miss even a fleeting moment.
Hyung, got hurt.
The words, chewed over carefully, were swallowed into Wonwoo’s core.
“Why did hyung get hurt?”
The question was as much for himself as it was for Siheon.
“When we divorced, you said it, didn’t you? That you cared for me but didn’t love me. That you no longer loved me as a man. So why are you hurt?”
Flustered, Siheon widened his eyes before forcing his gaze to scatter. His eyes roamed the office beyond Wonwoo’s frame. All the while, Wonwoo’s stare never left him. He pressed on, watching Siheon doggedly.
“Why are you hurt?”
“…”
“Why did you get hurt?”
The dominant alpha who’d driven out Chairman Cha’s presence was gone, replaced by a boy repeating “Why?” Siheon shot back dryly.
“Why what? Do I have to spell out every reason I’m hurt?”
His gaze, which had been resting on the plush edge of an office couch, shifted to Wonwoo. Those deep, dark eyes held only Siheon’s face, vivid and unyielding, as if refusing to allow any other trace.
Wonwoo leaned closer, bending forward. Their noses nearly brushed.
“I need to know.”
“…”
“Otherwise, I’ll get the wrong idea.”
“…”
“Like maybe you lied to me when we divorced. Maybe you still like me. Maybe you were even jealous.”
Tilting his head, he closed the gap until their lips nearly collided. Heat flared instantly, Siheon’s ears burning. Just before their lips met, Siheon jerked his face away.
“That’s ridiculous.”