When Chairman Jung Cheol-ho came, it was just as winter was about to end. We were in the thick of system development, and it was around the time his illness had worsened. As luck would have it, the bribery incident in the security team had blown up, and the young team leader had taken the fall for everything and handed in his resignation.

“I heard you’re looking for a partner bank.”

He came without any appointment and blurted that out with a visibly anxious face. For a man who was the chairman of a conglomerate, there wasn’t a trace of the dignity he ought to have. His neck and shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched tight on his knees. What he added with a forced smile was this:

“We’ll offer our company’s omega.”

Haesin’s omega. I had heard the rumors well enough. The pitiful omega that “kind-hearted Chairman Jung” had taken in, raised as if he were his own son, and step by step nurtured up to the position of division head. A man with faint presence in appearances, but highly regarded for his competence and character.

“He’s my son, but he’s a decent one...”

After speaking so uncharitably, he immediately referred to that omega as his son. An alpha of superior traits, well-educated, someone I would surely need—he went on and on. He kept touting how that omega differed from others, how exceptional his education had been, and so on without end.

“In this world where superior omegas are rare...”

Should I commend his fighting spirit? Or should I blame him for the recklessness of not knowing his place and showing up like this?

I’d been tired of the constant marriage proposals. I hadn’t dreamed of a romantic marriage in the first place, and if our interests didn’t align, I had no intention of signing a contract. There’s nothing as troublesome as a family tied together on paper, and if I truly needed an heir, my options weren’t limited to Haesin.

“So I hope you’ll choose us, Haesin.”

The tension stamped on his face was truly unsightly. Having said that much, Chairman Jung paused and gauged my reaction. I sat with my legs crossed, silently listening to him. When I drummed my fingers on my knee, I saw him swallow dryly.

“You have a fine child.”

Even at my flat reply, a flicker of hope crossed his face. Was he just turning fifty? The wrinkles around his eyes couldn’t hide the greedy gleam. They’d said he was greedy and incompetent; naturally, my expectations for that son dropped to the floor as well.

“Separate from that, it’s unsettling that you’ve come unannounced. If this hadn’t been a free slot, I’d have had you turned away at the door... That would have been awkward for both of us.”

It wasn’t sarcasm; it really was his good luck. My schedule was packed down to the minute; I had no room to receive an uninvited guest. If a meeting hadn’t been canceled, I wouldn’t have had time to sit here at all.

“...I’m sorry.”

“I’m not here to hear an apology.”

I answered, checking the watch on my wrist. I had rare free time, but I didn’t intend to spend it on Chairman Jung. There were countless better ways to use it; yet what came out of my mouth was this:

“Let’s hear the terms in more detail.”

If someone asked, I’d call it whim. Or impulse. Or self-interest. A position I could discard at any time, a relationship where the power dynamic would never flip. I was curious how I might utilize, in whatever fashion, that exceedingly rare superior omega he spoke of.

“Here’s what we had in mind...”

Not missing the chance, Chairman Jung rattled off contract terms. Mostly how favorably Haesin would treat Seonho, and the effects we could expect as a result. He tossed in a platitude that even if the partnership didn’t go through, he hoped we’d build a good relationship over time.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t advantageous. But neither was it a loss; assuming all the terms were true, I had nothing to lose. Even if I spat it out after tasting it, no one could fault me for it.

“I hope you’ll review it favorably.”

Sometimes, in business, you get a hunch. A moment when you think you should seize the opportunity even at slight risk. The conviction that today’s choice won’t be a blunder. The seasoned decision that if there’s no need to reject it outright, there’s no harm in taking it in hand first.

“The terms... can be worked out gradually.”

If I’m lucky, this could be a chance to swallow Haesin whole. Whatever he was angling for, I had not the slightest intention of giving him what he wanted. Keeping a compliant omega on hand to block other marriage offers wouldn’t be bad either.

“Let’s draft a contract.”

“...!”

Chairman Jung’s face brightened. He parted his lips like he might shriek any second. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but what came next was pleasing enough.

“I look forward to working with you, Executive Director.”

His buoyant voice marked the beginning of the contract. The link between Seonho and Haesin began with that one line.

Yes, that was the origin of every moment.

***

The contract I sent to Haesin was basically a test. How desperate he was, how far I could swing the blade. To see that, I stuffed in several unilateral poison-pill clauses. I expected pushback, of course, but laughably, he stamped it immediately and accepted.

After wrapping the contract, I had my secretary assess Haesin’s financial state. The result was as expected. A total mess—so bad it could collapse any time. How could a financial company be like this? Even what they’d managed to dam up would crumble the moment a variable appeared.

“...He must be pretty desperate.”

Not that it mattered. In fact, it was ideal for my plan. Once the paperwork on their omega was finished, I intended to keep postponing execution of the contract and work under the surface.

“This is the material on Division Head Jung Sejin.”

Secretary Park then handed me a few sheets with a photo attached. Data on the omega Chairman Jung had offered as a negotiating chip. Half gathered directly, half the sort of profile you could easily find online.

“Call me if you need anything else.”

With a bow, Secretary Park left the executive office without looking back. Having served at my side long enough, he knew when to strike and when to slip away. As I listened to the door close, I went over the material in my hand.

“Head of Strategic Planning...”

Jung Sejin, Head of the Strategic Planning Division at Haesin Financial Group.

The man barely propping up crumbling Haesin from the top was this young one. Three years younger than me, academic pedigree fairly ordinary, a spotless young gentleman who had never caused trouble. Likely, as chaebol heirs usually do, he had walked an elite course down a smooth road with few bumps.

“Doesn’t resemble him.”

Leaving other things aside, that was my first impression. The ID photo—probably from his early days—looked nothing like Chairman Jung. Not a striking beauty, perhaps, but the overall neat, fair features were undeniably rare.

I’d thought he wouldn’t be a bad marriage partner. Not shabby standing side by side; dressed properly, we’d look a couple to envy. If I saw any defect, I could use it to tweak the contract terms.

It’d be nice if he didn’t make a fuss.

If I had wishes, they were small. I hoped he knew his place, and didn’t forget that he was the subordinate party. We’d have to live in the same house at first anyway, so the less presence he had, the better.

I gathered the papers and pushed them to a corner of my desk. There’s a limit to what you can learn on paper; the rest you only know by seeing a face. Not that I planned to make time—until the wedding day, we wouldn’t meet.

Had the person himself agreed to this marriage? The question flickered up, but it wasn’t important. A child raised by that Chairman Jung—whatever his looks, his temperament would be similar. If he was greedy, he’d be easier to handle. That suited me fine.

***

Wedding preparations proceeded smoothly. As soon as I notified the family, I pushed a wave of articles and branded the marriage with Haesin. In the span of a day, the omega named Jung Sejin became my secret longtime lover and the spouse with whom I’d spend my life.

Per the prior contract, Seonho handled all preparations. His clothes, the rings, the venue décor down to ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) each piece—all had to be the best. It was mere performance, but if we were doing it, I wanted a flawless play that left no room for gossip.

“His size is similar to our mannequin.”

The information I’d collected on Jung Sejin now included ring and clothing sizes. The designer in charge of the tuxedo said that at this level, he could wear most pieces without a separate fitting. I hadn’t met him, but I heard he was taller than I expected.

On the wedding day, I arranged a suite for him as a courtesy. Technically, it was a space to set up his wardrobe, but it still met the minimum respect due to a spouse. From there, he would finish preparations and move to the waiting room at Yeongbingwan.

“Executive Director, he says he’s ready and waiting.”

After brief greetings with several guests, before the ceremony began, I went to the waiting room where he was. On the way, I ran into Chairman Jung and his family; the second son did not look at me kindly. Not that it mattered—I passed by without acknowledgement.

Two security guards stood before the waiting room. On seeing me, they bowed and slid the doors open to either side. With a low scrape, the opening revealed someone seated, seen from behind.

“...”

That was my first impression. Hair neatly arranged, a pale nape held straight, and shoulders set square—not at all fragile.

Was this the face I’d seen before on television, in the papers, and in the search results?

Ridiculous as it was, I found that static scene austere. The limp gaze cast into the air felt entirely different from what I’d expected. The face glimpsed in profile was so gentle that I even thought if I touched it wrong, the aftertaste would be poor.

He didn’t look this way until I approached near. Though they called him of superior traits, I felt no pheromones; only at close range did a faint hint of perfume reach me. Startled, he raised his head, and upon recognizing me, blinked slowly. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

“...”

A wash of confusion crossed his lightly colored eyes. Maybe he didn’t photograph well—better than the pictures Secretary Park had given me. Soft lines and a pale face, like his features had been drawn in one by one with a fine brush.

“Jung Sejin?”

I called his name and looked him over from head to toe. Not with any other intent; I simply couldn’t trust the impression I’d just had. That I felt this person was austere; that I thought he’d be hard to deal with—it seemed unbelievable.

After a beat, he rose slowly. He’d been well-schooled, they said. His movements were gentle and elegant. But when he smiled kindly, a sudden sense of reality pressed in.

“I’m Jung Sejin.”

The eyes curving softly provoked an unpleasant sensation. His voice, polite as he offered his hand, was also a little different from what I’d imagined.

“I look forward to working with you.”

He was just another ordinary corporate type I ran into all the time. A friendly face, trying his best to make a good impression. Nothing especially distinctive, no part I could call outstanding.

“So this is the ‘decent omega’...”

The brief curiosity vanished in a blink. With a senseless disappointment, my flat voice slipped out:

“There’s nothing to recommend but the face.”

Rude as it was, he didn’t fluster. He merely withdrew his hand with his smile intact and even answered with shameless nonchalance, contrary to his delicate looks.

“That’s fortunate. At least the face is presentable.”

“Even that’s nothing remarkable.”

Perhaps the only thing commendable was his control of expression. And yet I don’t know why that unremarkable face etched itself into my mind. If you’re going to force a smile, a blank face would be better, I found myself thinking.

***

During the ceremony, my evaluation of him shifted slightly. The man who’d sat like a doll in the waiting room walked the aisle wearing a truly happy smile. Maybe he’d be good at business. In a sense, it was an unbreakable poker face.

Once when our hands touched, then again when our lips touched. A prickling like static, mixed with a teasing sensation. When he curled his lips while we were still kissing, contrary to that shameless impression, I felt something odd.

“Congratulations on your marriage.”

“Wishing you both happiness.”

It felt like wearing a fine accessory. As I’d instructed, he didn’t unlink his arm, and when spoken to, he nimbly pressed closer to me. Perhaps because he was an omega, he only smiled obligingly even at words that could be insulting.

“I brought our Sejin in and raised him like my own son. Sending him to you, Executive Director, breaks my heart.”

“...”

The only time his expression changed was when Chairman Jung said that. Eyes lowered, his face looked like he was holding back sadness. What great family love could a stepfather who called him “our company’s omega” have? More ridiculous still was me—briefly finding that face pitiable.

“Never thought I’d live to see my little brother get married, huh?”

Greetings with the family were uneventful, but not when I ran into Kwon Ijeong. Wearing that same inane face, he let spill words too crude to repeat. Saying to return him when I was bored with him, that as long as he didn’t stretch out, it’d be fine. Through that stream of insults, Jung Sejin didn’t even blink.

“You know how those things are best done by someone with experience, right? Call me if you’re interested.”

Perhaps it was wise that Chairman Jung came to me instead of to Kwon Ijeong. I had no intention of using Jung Sejin, but if the counterpart had been Ijeong, I’d have done the job until he was a cripple. We’d have gotten an heir quickly, but not the ending Chairman Jung wanted.

By the time the sunset lay low, the tedious wedding wrapped up. While I paid my respects to Mother, Jung Sejin waited for me near the path. He didn’t ask where I was going, just stood obediently, like a dog that had been told to wait.

“...You’re the son?”

But when I came back, he wasn’t alone. The brightly dyed back of a head, even without seeing the face, had to be Haesin Group’s second son. Jung Minjae, was it? A voice as prickly as his impure gaze shoved into my ear.

“Figures an omega would get all swoony over some alpha bastard...”

“Minjae.”

A subdued voice called him. With his eyes lowered, Jung Sejin admonished him on a sigh. As if it happened all the time, deliberately emphasizing the word “hyung.” It wasn’t hard to grasp the situation after a few lines.

“Let’s talk about that later, when it’s just family.”

This family was a mess. Worse than a third-rate drama.