DFLT 11

“That’s ridiculous!”

As expected, Do Sehyun didn’t deviate an inch from predictions and, of course, opposed Seo Heonyoung’s decision. But that didn’t mean Seo Heonyoung was one to back down.

“We’ll be busy with the partnership deal. There’s no time to waste on personal matters.”

“Is our marriage a personal matter? Have you forgotten? That partnership is with our company, you know? I’m just as busy as you are!”

“Then delegate it to your secretary too. It’s convenient and efficient.”

Unlike the exasperated Sehyun, Heonyoung calmly savored a sip of his tea.

“Why Ji Yeonoh, of all people, and not Manager Kim?”

It was clear that what had truly irritated Do Sehyun was the three-syllable name “Ji Yeonoh.” Setting down his teacup, Heonyoung responded in a bored tone.

“What’s wrong with Ji Yeonoh?”

“You called him a wallflower, didn’t you? Who in the world entrusts their wedding decisions to a wallflower?”

“Do Sehyun.”

Heonyoung called Sehyun’s name in a low voice. Crossing his legs and tilting his chin up, he continued.

“Ji Yeonoh is my wallflower. That doesn’t mean you get to treat him like one.”

A chill settled in Heonyoung’s eyes as he stared at Sehyun. It wasn’t the usual faint air of ennui that lingered around him but a clear displeasure filling his dark pupils. Had he crossed a line? In that moment, Sehyun felt a slight tightness around his throat.

“…Ugh, hyung.”

The fierce pheromones emanating from Heonyoung were constricting Sehyun.

“Urk, I, I was reckless.”

Coughing, Sehyun gulped down water as soon as he could breathe again. The cold water flowed down his throat, seemingly calming the agitated cells that had been on edge.

“You must have had your reasons, hyung. Cough I think I was too focused on pushing my own opinions.”

Heonyoung, who had been quietly observing Sehyun’s pain-reddened face, spoke up.

“I’ll apologize too. The pheromones weren’t intentional.”

“…Mm.”

Just as Sehyun’s heart seemed to soften at the straightforward apology, a knock—tap tap—came at the lounge room’s door.

“A guest has arrived,” said a neatly dressed employee of The Heritage Cheongdam.

Judging by their inability to sense Heonyoung’s lingering pheromones, it seemed this lounge only hired betas as staff. Since the two were expecting a guest, Heonyoung nodded once to the employee in response.

“Phew, what’s with those pheromones?”

Moments later, a man— their awaited guest—strode in with long legs and let out a sigh.

Sensing Heonyoung’s intense pheromones, the man grimaced and waved his hand through the air as if to dispel them.

“Showing your face after seven years, and that’s your first line?”

Heonyoung spoke to the man in a tone that suggested he wasn’t pleased.

“You’re one to talk about guest etiquette, Seo Heonyoung. Releasing pheromones like that?”

“Don’t pick a fight. Just come and sit, Kang Dojin.”

Heonyoung’s refined eyebrows twitched up and down. And no wonder—Kang Dojin, who had vanished one day without a trace, had reappeared as if nothing had happened. All they’d heard through rumors was that he’d transferred to a business school in New York, but with no contact with Koreans, there had been little news since.

“Deal with those pheromones or something. Are you still only taking suppressants?”

“Kang Dojin, don’t cross the line.”

“Hey, long-term suppressant use has side effects, you know. If you end up with pheromone shock, it’ll be a real problem.”

After voicing his concerns and glancing between Heonyoung and Sehyun, Dojin let out an “Ah!” and snapped his fingers with a click.

“You guys are getting married, right? Then you won’t need suppressants anymore. Congrats on the wedding.”

“Hyung, what were you even doing in New York that you didn’t keep in touch? Spill it.”

Urged by Sehyun’s flushed face, Dojin ran a hand back through his hair and answered.

“You guys heard, right? My father passed away seven years ago.”

“…Yeah.”

“When my father, the heir to DW Group, passed, my uncle was named the next chairman, and I got pushed out of the power struggle, that’s all.”

“You came back because the honorary chairman passed away this time?”

“Yeah. Seems like Grandfather put my name at the end of his will. I’m thinking of using that to start a new venture.”

A solemn silence hung in the room. Then, a low bzzz sounded, and Dojin pulled his phone from his jacket’s inner pocket. Checking what seemed to be a message, a smile curled at the corner of his lips. The weary expression from recounting his family history was gone.

“Who’s got you grinning like that?”

“A junior I know.”

“How many juniors does Kang Dojin even know?”

Heonyoung frowned, his tone skeptical.

“You remember when I briefly worked with the TG Foundation in college? He was my mentee back then. Smart kid—seems like he’s done pretty well for himself. Got into some big company, I heard.”

“Oh, right.”

It was obvious that Seo Heonyoung, who had zero interest in others, had already lost any curiosity in the conversation. Sensing the mood, Sehyun clapped his hands and quickly changed the topic.

“Hyung, could you maybe officiate our wedding? You’ve known us the longest, after all.”

The three’s connection began at a private school under the TG Foundation. Seo Heonyoung, heir to TG Group; Do Sehyun, the only dominant omega and youngest of JM Group; and Kang Dojin, the eldest grandson of DW Group, TG’s primary supplier and the top semiconductor company. Thanks to the business ties where DW supplied semiconductors to TG, Heonyoung and Dojin had been close since childhood. And then there was little Do Sehyun, who, upon entering elementary school, fell for the middle-school-aged Seo Heonyoung at first sight and followed him around ever since.

“That’s no big deal. Wow, Do Sehyun, you made it. Chasing Seo Heonyoung since your snot-nosed days.”

“When was I ever a snot-nosed kid!”

“I remember everything. You even borrowed my handkerchief back then.”

Heonyoung snorted at the sight of the indignant Sehyun and Dojin, who kept fanning the flames. It was an utterly absurd scene.

“We’re forming a partnership with JM Medio. We’re launching a smartwatch that tracks rut and heat cycles—”

Heonyoung’s words were cut off when he noticed Dojin, grinning at his phone. Dojin was hunched over, typing messages under the table. Feeling Heonyoung’s gaze, he replied halfheartedly.

“Oh, sorry. I saw the article. My uncle says DW’s joining the bidding too.”

“Seems like all of Kang Dojin’s attention is on that mentee of his.”

“How’d you know? Come to think of it, haven’t you met him once?”

“Dunno. Don’t remember.”

With the number of people Heonyoung passed by daily, why would he remember some random acquaintance of Kang Dojin’s?

“At the freshman welcome party, he and I got plastered, and I asked you to take him home. You were pissed as hell back then.”

Heonyoung shook his head, uninterested in wasting time on such trivial old stories.

“No reason not to be pissed when a busy person is asked to run errands.”

“He even puked in your car, our Tofu, and you’re saying you don’t remember?”

“Get lost. I don’t remember.”

Dojin burst into loud laughter, finding it hilarious, while Heonyoung looked at him with displeasure.

Wedding preparations were far more demanding than expected. Why didn’t humans evolve the ability to foresee the future? Why, when Seo Heonyoung offered five million won, did he underestimate it as easy money?

The ancestors who coined the phrase “If you like free stuff, you’ll go bald” surely saw through the ways of the world. Who was he, a mere mortal, to defy their wisdom? They might be pointing and laughing at his misfortune from the heavens. And he deserved it, no doubt.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ji Yeonoh. Are you even listening?”

Lost in a moment of harsh reality, Yeonoh was snapped back by Do Sehyun’s sharp voice piercing through the table. And no wonder—they’d just finished a three-hour meeting with the wedding planner.

They’d come to a nearby café to wrap things up, and Yeonoh, desperate for sugar, was sipping a mango smoothy when he replied.

“Oh, no, Vice President. Haha.”

As the liquid fructose coursed through his veins, he found just enough energy to muster a smile.

“Here’s the list of wedding venues we discussed with the planner. There are about four places in Seoul that match our timeline and scale.”

Yeonoh stared blankly at the tablet PC Sehyun handed him.