As summer began to settle in, the change in the weather was obvious. Word was that the rainy season was near, and a deep breath drew in the dampness in the air. The sky, washed in muted tones as if preparing for the shift in season, repeated itself day after day.

6:30 a.m. Without the help of an alarm, I woke, took a quick shower, and stood before the walk-in closet. A plain-cut suit and a modestly colored tie—what I used to wear every day to work. It felt oddly unfamiliar to put them on again after so long. Facing the mirror, I found my expression looked... not bad.

“Hoo...”

I was in decent shape. A good night’s sleep had left my eyes free of swelling or dark circles. The only flaw was the faint reddish marks visible just below my collarbone if I loosened my shirt buttons. But those would disappear neatly under a properly tied tie.

From the row of watches, I chose the most inconspicuous one. It was from a brand so expensive it felt excessive, yet obscure enough that most people wouldn’t recognize it. That was probably why Minjae had never cared for the accessories in this house.

If Minjae saw this place, he’d lose his mind with excitement.

Every piece had been here for me from the day I moved in—clothes in my exact size, tie pins set with unknown gemstones, watches fitted perfectly to my wrist, and an uncountable number of shoes.

Things I’d first thought unnecessary might, from now on, be part of my daily routine. I’d brought nothing suitable for a day like this in my own luggage. Just as Yido had said, I’d packed the bare minimum when I moved into his home.

“Didn’t think I’d actually end up working...”

Today was, of all things, my first day at work—as CEO of the perfume brand Kwon Yido had set up for me. At first, I’d promised to stay only until I got my certification; now, the deadline had changed to until I made him a perfume.

I didn’t feel much about it. Maybe a little tense. But like my very first day heading to Haesin, there was a faint, unreal sense to the morning from the moment I woke.

One last glance in the mirror, a quick adjustment of my hair. Leaving the closet, I stopped briefly at the sight of two bottles on the nightstand beside a vase of lily of the valley—one the perfume Yido had given me, the other the woody fragrance I’d made at the workshop.

“...”

Without thinking too much, I reached for the one he’d given me. The bottle’s airy design matched its scent—watery greens, a gentle blend of rose and jasmine, the signature freshness of lily of the valley. It lifted my mood instantly.

And then, I slipped off my engagement ring and left it on the nightstand. In private, it was one thing—but at work, I’d be meeting countless people. Since Yido didn’t want our engagement public, it was better for me to be careful on my end.

I flexed and curled my ring-marked fingers. The clock was past seven. Time to head downstairs for real.

***

“...”

“...”

Over breakfast, Yido didn’t say a word to me. His lips had curved faintly when he saw me neatly dressed, then his brows had barely twitched at the sight of my bare left hand. The change was subtle, but I’d learned to read him—clear as day to me.

Breakfast was fragrant mugwort porridge, chilled tofu with an unusual sauce, a few side dishes, and grilled meat patties. Since moving in here and eating regular meals, I’d started eating more in the mornings. I used to feel uncomfortably full finishing a whole bowl; now, I didn’t think twice.

“...How do you feel?”

The question came when we were nearly done eating. We’d eaten in silence, but it wasn’t the awkward quiet it used to be. I no longer felt the obligation to fill it.

“Not bad. A little nervous, maybe.”

I answered easily, and Yido studied me, his deep eyes tracing my face with a scrutiny that felt almost physical.

“You don’t look nervous.”

“I learned not to show it.”

I met his gaze with a teasing smile, which only made his lips close again. He glanced at my bare fingers once more, then quietly resumed eating.

Unlike all the mornings before, today we left the house together. He still said nothing, and I fussed with my tie, glancing his way, wondering if he was in a bad mood—and if so, why. Before I could ask, the elevator doors opened.

“...”

Inside first, he watched me stand there as if to say, Are you coming? I swallowed and stepped in. Without hesitation, he pressed the close button.

The doors slid shut. He hadn’t pressed the garage level, so we stayed still for a moment. I reached for the panel—only for him to grip my wrist a little too firmly.

“What are you—”

A sharp spin—before I could finish speaking, he’d pushed me against the wall and crushed his lips to mine.

“...!”

Through my startled vision, his eyes were closed. His grip on my arms and shoulders was firm, his angle shifting as his mouth sealed over mine. In an instant, his tongue slid past my parted lips, curling around mine with a deliberate gentleness that caught me off guard.

“...”

It was a kiss deep enough to make my knees weak. Usually, his kisses were tender; now, they burned like they’d melt me. Tongue brushing tongue, exploring every part of my mouth, his free hand cupped my cheek, fingers stroking just behind my ear.

My face flushed hot. I clutched at him, but he easily caught my left hand and pressed it against the wall. I didn’t intend to fight him off, but I still froze, breath stalled in my throat.

With a wet sound, he drew back—just as I was struggling for air. His own breath was unsteady as he murmured—

“Breathe.”

“...”

The words echoed the bedroom, their tone indecent. Without waiting, he kissed me again, drawing my lower lip between his teeth, slipping his tongue inside more slowly this time.

At my nose, his pheromones drifted in—woody, weighty, tangled with the perfume I’d sprayed. The difference between this and the workshop-made scent was incomparable; no perfume could even approach it.

Why the sudden desperation? The feeling behind the kiss was unsteady, almost restless. His hand on my cheek was rich with heat, but it made me wonder if he was anxious.

I wrapped my free arm around his waist. At the touch, he stiffened slightly and loosened his grip on my hand. I brought his hand to the back of my neck and pulled him close, arms tightening around his back.

“...”

The wet sounds were embarrassingly loud. At some point, I found myself responding, eager to take in his pheromones. When my legs threatened to give way, he slid a thigh between mine, holding me up with his whole body.

“...Hht.”

His solid thigh pressed lightly at my center. I flinched, turning my head, but his large hand caught my chin. As his tongue traced under mine, a shiver ran through me, my body leaning into his.

He kissed me to the limit, only letting go when I was melting entirely. I lifted my lids, dazed, to find his dark eyes filling my blurred vision. His thumb traced my swollen lower lip, biting and sucking at it in turn.

“Mm—wait...”

This was going to leave my lips puffed. I pushed lightly, but he didn’t seem to care, worrying my lip between his teeth before finally drawing back. I bit at the sensitized skin, and he rested his forehead against mine.

“Sejin.”

My name came low, heavy with something suggestive. His voice split into a whisper as he offered gently—

“Why don’t you just stay home?”

“...?”

I blinked, thrown. He searched my eyes, then rubbed his cheek against mine. His lips brushed my ear before kissing the lobe, his whisper soft—

“The thought of letting you out makes me want to lock you in my room...”

“...”

“What do you think?”

A shiver ran down my back—not from the words themselves, but from how low he’d pitched his voice. It carried his pheromones, and the sincerity in it made my spine tense.

“...You’re being unreasonable.”

I loosened my arms from around him, pressing my face to his shoulder to steady my breathing. My cheeks still burned from the lingering heat.

“You’re the one who gave me the job.”

It wasn’t meant as an accusation—more that his contradictions amused me. Somehow, I knew he’d never actually lock me away.

“You can still take it back.”

I meant it lightly, but he chuckled under his breath, kissing just below my ear. His lips brushed the line of my neck as he teased—

“It wouldn’t look good, taking back what I’ve given.”

Not that I’d mind—I wasn’t attached to the things I had. But he added, his tone still light—

“Especially after you made me sleep alone before your first day.”

“...”

Sleep alone? That made it sound strange.

“...We’ve always had separate rooms.”

Last night, we’d spent time together as usual, but as soon as the mood turned, I’d gone back to my own room. The look in his eyes had told me that staying would mean not sleeping at all, and I wanted to be rested for my first day.

“I see. My mistake, then.”

He sounded genuinely regretful. Remembering the longing look he’d given me when I left made my chest itch oddly now.

“You look good in that suit.”

“The man who bought it has good taste.”

His soft laugh followed. He held me for a moment longer before finally pressing the elevator button. The car hummed as it descended.

In the garage, two cars waited—one for each of us. Mine was a black sedan, similar to the one he drove, instead of the car he’d given me before. As planned, Lee Taeseong would be driving, and he opened the back door as soon as he saw me.

“Be careful. Don’t work too hard.”

It °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° was his investment, yet he could say that so easily. He even reminded me—unnecessarily—to be home before dinner. For someone who used to be so busy, he was now acting like an abandoned dog.

“See you later.”

I gave him a polite nod and got into the back seat. He stayed rooted in place until Taeseong closed the door and took the driver’s seat. Through the window, I thought he looked almost lonely.

***

The perfume company I’d be heading was not strictly a perfume company. Initially, it would supply various fragrances in partnership with Seonho, eventually expanding into cosmetics. For now, it was a small-scale startup, but with Seonho’s investment, growth would be fast.

The business plan Yido had given me days ago laid out every detail. I’d been startled by the amount of his “minimum investment,” then laughed dryly when he said there was no need to worry about breaking even. Investment was supposed to be about returns; this was essentially charity.

In the car, I skimmed the plan again. The “Sejin” logo was written in flowing cursive, the S and j bolded for emphasis. My name in the CEO slot, paired with the brand mark, made me doubly self-conscious.

From a business perspective, this made no sense. A risky venture like this wasn’t worth starting. And from an ordinary perspective, you didn’t just hand a company to someone outright. Corporations like Seonho hired professional executives for a reason.

“‘Sejin’... really?”

Who named a company after someone, then told them they could change it if they wanted? You could change a product name, sure—but a company name? That wasn’t so simple.

“Taeseong, doesn’t ‘Sejin’ sound strange for a perfume brand?”

“Sir?”

From the driver’s seat, he glanced at me in the mirror. I set the plan on my lap, wrinkling my nose at the question. It even felt awkward to ask.

“I mean, the company I’m going to is called ‘Sejin,’ and to me it just feels... off.”

I knew plenty of luxury brands used the founder’s name. This wasn’t unheard of. Still, for someone whose only perfumery training was two weeks with Lee Heena, it felt like too much.

“I think... it’s fine.”

His voice was calm. When I asked, “Really?” he turned the wheel and added—

“Maybe it only feels strange because it’s your own name.”

Not entirely wrong. It had been thrown together without warning, and more than anything, there was this—

“It feels like he made it just for me...”

There was a big difference between attaching my name to an existing project and creating an entire company from scratch for me. The first I could force myself to accept; the second, no excuse could justify. No matter what he wanted from me, no matter how much he wanted to win my favor, this was too much.

And everything about this company said it was the second. From the name, to the content, to the overly generous terms—it wasn’t as if he’d slotted me into an existing venture. It was like he’d built the whole thing just to give me a seat.

“Division Head.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not that anymore?”

I snapped a little, more out of restlessness than irritation. From the first day we met, he’d stuck to that title no matter what I said. Pausing, he suddenly sounded pleased with himself.

“Then from now on, I’ll call you CEO.”

“...”