It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand. I worked too, and I knew there was no way to handle sudden emergencies. A launch event was, in truth, nothing significant, and it wasn’t a situation where I had any right to feel hurt because he hadn’t come.

“...But you could have at least called.”

And yet, that was what slipped out of my mouth. Our gazes missed each other, pointing in different directions. I fiddled with my tie as I spoke, like it was to myself.

“I waited. You said you’d come even if it meant overexerting yourself.”

I knew saying this to him might burden him. It was a kind of childishness, and if Yido disliked it, I couldn’t complain. Just a few months ago I never could have dreamed of saying such words, but once spoken, they poured out in a stream.

“So I kept looking for you, but you never showed up till the end.”

Why did I keep thinking he had deliberately stayed away? Why did it feel like “busy” was nothing but an excuse, and that there was another reason? Whether he came or not was entirely up to him, and yet shameless thoughts kept surfacing.

“...I’m sorry.”

Yido apologized slowly. Since I had entered his house, I had heard him apologize more than once. Though he had told me never to feel sorry for anything, “sorry” seemed to come so easily to him.

“......”

“......”

We looked at each other in silence. Our eyes were fixed on one another, but what they were chasing wasn’t the other person. His apology didn’t feel false, yet I thought he was concealing his real thoughts.

“First... I should thank you.”

I broke the silence, loosening my tie. Was “sorry” really what I wanted to hear from him? The fact that I didn’t feel satisfied made it clear it wasn’t.

“I launched the brand. Thanks to you, Yido-ssi.”

If only I could have said those words at the event. If only I could have told him proudly in front of everyone. Even if I couldn’t reveal our relationship, I had vaguely hoped I could at least thank him openly.

“The response was good... and the articles were positive.”

“......”

“The revenue should be good too.”

The first button had been fastened well. It was a respectable beginning, better than I had expected. Even if Yido hadn’t been part of the process, the outcome was successful.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

“......”

He gave me no reaction. Only looked at me with those dark eyes, silently. And in the endless quiet, I realized something.

“...I thought this was what you wanted.”

I must have wanted him to congratulate me. Since I had accepted everything he gave, I wanted to see him pleased. To stand proudly before him, even if only as “President Jung Sejin,” the title he had given me.

“That’s right.”

But his reply came with an unreadable expression. His low voice was too flat, too calm to sound like affirmation. Slowly blinking, he spoke words I could barely catch.

“That’s what I wanted.”

I could never read him. He said so, but his face told me otherwise. Dissatisfaction... no, unease—that was closer. Something in his gaze struck me with déjà vu.

“Jung Sejin-ssi.”

“...Yes.”

Today, the way he called my name felt strangely unfamiliar. He curved his lips slightly as he spoke.

“I bought roses for you.”

The more I looked, the more gifted he seemed. He was smiling, but it didn’t look like a smile at all. His delicately drawn eyes held a sorrowful glow.

“But I can’t give them to you this time.”

I couldn’t ask why not. Couldn’t even ask what he’d done with them. He ended it unnaturally, masking himself with his usual composure.

“Rest. You must be tired.”

He turned his back to me, walking away without once looking back. As he grew distant, I thought I caught a familiar scent. The faint sweetness of his pheromones mixed with something that reminded me of the diffusers at the event.

***

Because the company dinner had been just the night before, the staff all came in a few hours late. I had intended to as well, but I couldn’t sleep, so I went in at my usual time. The sleeping pills, as always, had no effect, and when I did drift off, it was only into nightmares I couldn’t even remember clearly.

'I’ll be late today.'

That was what Yido had said to me at breakfast. He hadn’t even looked me in the eye when he said it. Was he angry? My worry was undercut by how tender his next words were.

Be careful on your way to class.

Something felt off. I couldn’t pinpoint it, but Yido had seemed different since last night. His expression unreadable, his face closed off. Without knowing exactly what was wrong, it was hard to ask.

So I simply pretended not to notice and left for work. As always, he stayed in the parking lot until my car disappeared, staring after it. Watching him grow smaller in the distance, I had thought he looked pitiful, like an abandoned dog.

Fortunately, work gave me no time for distractions. “Sejin” was only just beginning, and the tasks piled up were overwhelming. It was a relief I had brought Mr. Kim back. Without him handling the schedule, I couldn’t have managed.

After work, I rode with Lee Taeseong to my certification academy. Today was the final class; after the exam, I would receive my completion certificate. The test results would come in a few days, and soon after that, the license would be issued.

“I saw the brand launch.”

The instructor, who reminded me a bit of Lee Heena, greeted me kindly after the exam. Congratulated me on my hard work, even joked that someday I should promote the academy. After a brief exchange and handing over a perfume sample I had brought, I finally left the academy for good.

Since it was midsummer, the air outside pressed hot and heavy. Time had passed quickly—seasons made it clearest.

“Good work, President.”

Mr. Kim, waiting with Taeseong, spoke as I got into the car. His words carried such genuine warmth, like addressing an examinee. It made me laugh faintly.

“It was nothing.”

In truth, what I had earned was only the most basic qualification. Two more levels remained, and if I wanted to go deeper, I could even enter a graduate program in the field. The instructor had mentioned it, if I was interested.

“There’s still a long way to go.”

Heena had been right. Turning the certificate in my hand, I thought again. Having results really did feel good. I liked that it was something I had achieved myself.

'If it feels like too much, just keep going until you earn the license.'

On the way home, Yido’s words came back to me. If we had kept to the original plan, today I should be stepping down as President. The brief grace period was over. The deadline we had agreed on had come.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Yes, President.”

“How many years did I work at Haesin?”

“A little over five.”

“Five years...”

After university, I had gone straight into Haesin. I had started higher than most, but still, I had given half my twenties to it. It hadn’t been a short time. And yet it had taken just one day to resign as division head, and I had never once regretted it.

So why was it so hard to let go of a company I had worked at only a few months? It wasn’t mine to begin with, but giving it up left a bitter taste.

Call it greed. For the company bearing my name, and for the certificate in my hand. Even for the fact that I was riding home in a car driven by Taeseong.

“We’re here, President.”

The ride home felt short. Lost in thought, I was back at the garage before I knew it. I thanked them both, said I’d see them Monday, and went upstairs.

As expected, Yido wasn’t home. The emptiness of the house felt heavier than usual. When had I grown so used to someone’s presence? At the main house, in the officetel, there had never been anyone waiting for me.

“When will he come...”

If he wasn’t too late, I wanted to have dinner together. Just as he had waited for me, I could wait for him. After eating, we could talk as we always did, then finally fix our plans for tomorrow’s dinner out.

While waiting, I sank into the bathtub. The bath bomb the staff had prepared frothed sweet bubbles. The scent was too sugary, but it wasn’t bad for soothing fatigue.

Afterward, I thought I’d read in the greenhouse until he returned. With the lights installed, it would be fine even in the dark. If I stayed there an hour or two, surely he would come home. It was a spontaneous plan, but I liked it.

But even after I returned from the greenhouse, ate dinner, and went to bed, Yido still didn’t come home.

***

'Sejin-ah.'

In my sleep, I heard someone calling me. A voice tender enough, but relentless, continuing until I answered. I wanted to ask why, what he wanted, but no sound left my throat.

'Sejin-ah.'

I knew what nightmare this was—the one that had worsened recently. The same dream I’d had on the eve of the engagement. The sensation of someone seizing my hair and wrenching my head back.

'Act like a whore.'

Humiliation and shame were long familiar. Even the forced intrusion past my lips wasn’t strange anymore. Adaptation didn’t mean the pain had dulled, though.

“Mmmpf...”

'Open your mouth properly.'

The thick length filled my mouth until I couldn’t even gag. Scraping my palate, pressing hard against the root of my tongue. No matter how wide I opened, I couldn’t contain it; even breathing was hard.

'Jung Sejin.'

The feeling of my throat being forced open was so vivid it felt real. The cock shoved down to the base, then withdrawn halfway, only to thrust brutally back in.

“Ugh...!”

I knew what came next. The instant my teeth brushed against it as I instinctively closed my lips. The violent grip on my hair, yanking me aside.

'Can’t even do this right?'

The cold voice lashed me. My whole body shook; I couldn’t even lift myself from the floor. And still he spoke, icily.

'You should have known your place.'

Tears streamed uncontrollably. I didn’t know if it was sorrow or rage, but it consumed me. Crawling helplessly, I was overwhelmed by a storm of pheromones, sharp as blades.

“...Haaah!”

I jolted awake, eyelids ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) snapping open. My blurred vision cleared slowly. Not polished shoes before me, but the high ceiling of a bedroom. Not cutting pheromones against my skin, but soft, warm blankets.

“Haa, haa...”

I panted, wiping the cold sweat from my brow, taking in the room around me. Yido’s perfume gifts, the lilies of the valley, the bottles I had made, a couple of novels.

“...When did I fall asleep.”

It was my room. My own space in Yido’s house. A sanctuary where I didn’t have to kneel, where no humiliation touched me.

I sat up, checked the time on my phone. Barely a few hours of sleep; dawn was still far away. Had Yido come home yet? I rose from bed and stepped out.

The hall was dark. Guided only by dim light, I realized I hadn’t put on slippers. Bare feet against the carpet, but I didn’t want to go back just for them.

So I kept walking, intending only to check if he was home. Step by step down the hall, until I noticed the study light at the far end.

“......”

So, he had come back.

For no reason, relief filled me. My body moved before my mind did. My heart pounded, unease rising endlessly, and I wanted to feel his pheromones right away.

I walked toward it without hesitation. He had told me not to enter the study, but that thought barely lingered. Drawn like a moth to light, or maybe just not fully awake, I went straight for the glow.

At the door, a familiar tension came. Like the first time I had come here, fear pressed down. My trembling hand pressed the knob, slowly turned it.

When the door creaked open, I thought maybe I should have knocked. But it was too late, and I peered inside. Wooden furniture, and directly in sight, one man at a desk.

“......”

“......”

Yido. His handsome face, the aura of pheromones, his suit still on as if just returned. His hair was slightly mussed.

“...You’re not asleep?”

He hurriedly slipped something from the desk into a drawer. I hadn’t seen it clearly, but the metallic click of a lock told me enough. What he had been handling was a gun.

“Ah... I woke up.”

A charm? A gift from his grandfather, something to steady him?

I knew he often spent nights in the study. When he had vacated his room for me, the only other place he could have been was here. But I hadn’t known he handled a gun like this.

“What are you doing here?”

“......”

He didn’t answer. Instead he looked me over, then stood and walked toward me. Step by step, until he was right in front of me. Then he slipped off his slippers.

“...Yido-ssi?”

What he did next was kneel. Dropping to one knee, bowing slightly, then carefully taking hold of my bare ankle. Startled, I stepped back, resting a hand on his shoulder by reflex. He lifted my foot and slid his slipper onto it.

“Your feet are cold.”

“......”

Without hesitation, he did the same for the other foot. Told me not to walk barefoot, even in summer. He scolded gently, though he himself was kneeling barefoot on the floor. To anyone else, the sight would have been absurd.

“Go back to sleep. I still have work.”

His dismissal was sharper than usual. As he even opened the door for me, I didn’t step out—instead, I grasped his sleeve.

“...Should I wait for you?”

“......”

He looked down at me, tilting his head slightly, blinking slowly. Like a scene out of a film, the unreality of it made my chest swell.

“It’s the weekend tomorrow... I thought it’d be nice if we slept together.”

Hadn’t it been rare? Since his rut, we hadn’t shared a bed. It had been my choice, but tonight I wanted it to be different.

“...No.”

But he answered quietly, without breaking his gaze. His voice calm, words measured.

“Not tonight.”

I couldn’t ask why. He placed a hand on my back, guiding me gently but firmly out of the study. Not forceful, but the atmosphere was unyielding.

“Go sleep. You can even use my room.”

I left without a word, retreating to my own room. I hadn’t asked when he had come home, hadn’t asked if he remembered our plans for tomorrow. I had left him behind, looking unsteady, and returned alone.

That night, my dream picked up where the last had left off. Someone forcing me face-down to the floor, subduing me. Treating me like an animal, holding me down.

'I never should have trusted someone like you.'

And the one raping me was none other than Kwon Yido.