Friday morning. A sudden, heavy rain began to fall, even though it hadn’t been in the forecast. Maybe it was the increased humidity in the air—Kwon Yido’s pheromones felt especially distinct today. The deep, rich scent clung to my skin with a thick density even as we ate breakfast.

“Today, I might be a little late.”

As always, Kwon Yido stood by the front door, perfectly dressed for work. The dark gray suit with its high-waisted cut matched his subtly blue-toned tie exquisitely. Even the faint crease in his striking eyes looked like it had been staged for a magazine spread.

“I told them to clear out the entire second floor just in case, so if anything happens, call me.”

“...?”

Why the second floor? I wanted to ask, but there was something I had to say before that. I’d been meaning to for the past few days but hadn’t found the chance.

“Um, I don’t have your number, Kwon Yido-ssi.”

I didn’t have his number. He kept saying I should contact him, but I had no way to do so. When he sent the car, it was Mr. Kim who relayed the message, and after that, we’d been under the same roof constantly. The staff might’ve assumed I already had it, but it would’ve looked strange to ask someone else.

“You don’t have my number? That’s... huh.” He started to speak, then paused for a moment, a flicker of realization crossing his furrowed face.

“...I guess that’s possible.”

It was like something out of a comedy sketch—what was he even doing? I couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, and Kwon Yido’s expression eased. He rolled up his sleeve to check the time, then gave me a small nod.

“Give me your phone.”

“Ah, I left it upstairs... I’ll just give you my number.”

I didn’t bring my phone down when I ate. There was no one who’d call, and carrying it around was a hassle. It didn’t make sense to go up and come down again, so it was easier to just {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} tell him.

“If you give me your phone...”

“......”

“......”

“......”

“...Kwon Yido-ssi?”

I lightly waved the hand I’d extended. Kwon Yido stared blankly at my palm, then furrowed his brow. He pulled his phone from his inner pocket, unlocked it, and—rather than handing it to me—held it himself. It was a different model than the one I’d seen in the car before.

“Number.”

“010...”

I couldn’t see the screen. Only after I finished reading all eleven digits did a faint ring tone sound. Kwon Yido didn’t ask me to repeat it—he just ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket.

“I called, so check later.”

“Sure...”

Pretty sure he didn’t save it. As soon as I thought that, he added almost defensively, “I’ll save it in the car.”

A suspicious answer. His expression was perfectly calm, but there was something unspoken in the air. For someone second to none in keeping a poker face, his feelings occasionally showed through.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, so rest in your room. If you’re really not feeling well, you can go into my room. But avoid the greenhouse, if you can.”

He looked at me for a long moment, as if waiting for an answer. I wanted to just nod and say “okay,” but only questions came to mind.

“Is something happening today?”

It felt like I’d become someone who forgot an anniversary. The way Kwon Yido was acting, something definitely seemed off, but I had no idea what. Why clear out the second floor? Why would I need to be in his room?

“You seem more worried than usual. I was wondering if something was going on.”

Worried. Saying the word made it click—Kwon Yido wasn’t looking back at me out of attachment. It was concern. Even though there was nothing in this house that should give him any reason to be concerned.

“Jung Sejin-ssi, today...”

He fiddled with his perfectly fastened tie, like something was bothering him. Beneath his long, straight fingers, the veins on the back of his hand stood out. Maybe it was because of his height—his hands were enormous.

“Isn’t it your heat cycle?”

“...What?”

I blinked, startled, meeting his gaze. Those deep reddish-brown eyes were steady and unwavering. His faint double eyelids and long lashes made his gaze look strangely sensual.

“What do you mean...”

Heat cycle? Why bring that up now? And then, a memory surfaced.

‘I’m male, so the chances of pregnancy aren’t high, but since I’m dominant, it should be fine if the timing is right. There’s only about a week left until my heat...’

Oh. That.

“It’s not today. It’s the day after tomorrow—two days.”

I responded calmly, counting the days in my head. Dominants usually had consistent cycles, and I’d never gone off-schedule. Thanks to that, I’d always been able to take medical leave from work in advance.

“Two days?”

But Kwon Yido looked slightly unconvinced as he gazed out the window. He was a dominant too—he knew cycles were accurate. Yet the way he stared at the rain didn’t sit right with me.

“...I see.”

He finally ended the conversation with that ambiguous tone. Maybe it was really time to go—he glanced at his watch, then at me, and turned toward the entrance. He was probably heading for the elevator outside the inner doors to get down to the garage.

“Anyway... call me if anything happens. I’ll pick up this number right away.”

Maybe the public had Kwon Yido all wrong. According to the media, he was said to be prideful and temperamental—reputed to be as difficult as he was famous. But the Kwon Yido in front of me felt far removed from that.

‘Does this sound like I’m making a proposal?’

“......”

Well... maybe not that far removed.

Outside the window, thin sheets of rain fell against the glass. Just yesterday, the skies had been clear. It wasn’t even a typical downpour—just a sudden, strange storm. Judging from the pitch-black sky, it didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon.

“Maybe I’ll read in the greenhouse...”

There wasn’t much I could do while Kwon Yido was gone. I could rest in the room or tend to the greenhouse. I could try the pool or fitness room, but it felt wrong to use a space that wasn’t mine.

I’d stop by my room to grab my phone and my book. If I picked up the novel I left off on yesterday, it would kill at least a couple of hours. After that, maybe I’d tend to the flowers and zone out watching the rain.

‘I might be a little late today.’

The thought of having to spend another long day stirred a vague sense of frustration. How long had I even been living in this house? Yet I already found myself bored whenever Kwon Yido wasn’t around. Humans adapt quickly—but this felt like too much.

“I wonder how late he’ll be.”

I hoped he wouldn’t take too long. I had something I needed to tell him before my heat cycle came. About the fact that I was a defective omega—and that he might have already realized it.

***

The house I was staying in was the most extravagant of all the properties Kwon Yido owned. It was even bigger than the home I’d grown up in, and it would take half a day just to explore the entire place. I hadn’t seen all of it, but even the garden alone, meticulously landscaped, was as large as a public park.

If you followed the stone-paved path past the garden, you’d reach the greenhouse Kwon Yido had mentioned. With a white wooden frame and glass walls and ceiling, it looked like a quaint little café at first glance. It had flowers, of course, and even a table and chairs—perfect for passing the time.

One umbrella, and one novel.

The greenhouse I arrived at following the sound of rain was peaceful as always. On either side, small, decorative flowers had been planted, and a little deeper inside were trees that reached my waist. The marble-topped central table was decorated with a vase and a standing lamp.

I usually spent most of my time here soaking up the sun. There was no real need to tend the flowers, so I’d wander around, then kill time reading. Starting three days ago, following Kwon Yido’s instructions, the staff had begun bringing a different type of flower tea every day.

“...Oh.”

Just a few steps in with my dripping umbrella, I froze. At this hour, I should’ve been alone, but I sensed someone’s presence in the greenhouse. I had told the staff there was no need for tea today because of the rain. There was a rustling noise—and the moment I turned my head, I locked eyes with someone crouched near the flowerbed.

“......”

“......”

A heavy silence settled between us. The way we watched each other held equal parts caution and curiosity. After a beat, I spoke first.

“...Hello.”

He wore dirt-stained work gloves and a messy apron. Maybe in his fifties? He had a warm face and a healthy tan. There was no way a house with this much security would have a thief, and it wasn’t like he was here to steal flowers, so his identity was obvious.

“This is our first time meeting. You’re the one who maintains the greenhouse, right?”

“Oh dear.”

He let out a flustered groan as he scrambled to his feet. “Oh dear, oh dear,” he muttered repeatedly, clearly rattled. Brushing the dirt off his hands, he began hurriedly gathering the tools scattered around him.

“Yes, yes. I’m the gardener who manages this place. Gosh, I heard you weren’t coming today...”

It was a surprise encounter, but not one worth reacting this dramatically to. It wasn’t like he’d been slacking—he was diligently tending to the flowerbeds. Judging by how he spoke, it seemed he had assumed I wouldn’t be coming and decided to take care of the flowers.

“Just a moment, I’ll clean this up right away, so please wait a little.”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t need to rush—”

“Oh no, I’m sorry.”

The way he bowed and fumbled brought to mind a scene I’d witnessed not long ago. The day I’d gone to get fitted for the engagement outfit—how the employees kept apologizing endlessly to Minjae.

“Um...”

I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say, so I just scraped the floor gently with the tip of the umbrella I was holding. The long black umbrella had been forced into my hands by the housekeeper, who’d begged me not to walk in the rain. It was brand new—unused, shiny, and oversized.

“Man... what’s with this...”

Why is everyone in this house so afraid of me?

Not just the first person who’d shown me to my room, but the chef, and now this gardener too. All the staff in Kwon Yido’s house treated me with excessive caution. They never came too close, and if they happened to run into me, they’d quickly retreat.

“I’ll get out of your way now, so please take your time. Sorry again for the trouble.”

The gardener quickly packed up and bowed deeply. Arms full of tools, he turned to leave in a rush. The rain outside was still coming down hard, and I didn’t see any umbrella or raincoat on him.

“Wait a moment.”

“Y-Yes?”

He flinched. His shoulders jerked upward, clearly startled. His face was full of panic, as if he couldn’t believe I’d called out to him. I wasn’t going to eat him—it was such an overreaction.

“It’s raining pretty hard... don’t you have an umbrella? Or at least a raincoat?”

I smiled kindly on purpose. He was way too on edge, and I figured I should try to ease some of his nervousness. The gardener rubbed the corner of his eye sheepishly, then gave a small cough.

“Well, no, I’m the greenhouse manager, so I don’t carry a raincoat... I usually just walk in weather like this.”

“How did you get here?”

“Oh, the rain wasn’t this bad when I came...”

So he’d come here without one too. Whether he used an umbrella or not was his business, but this rain wasn’t something you could just walk through.

“Let’s at least put the tools away first.”

I tucked the book and umbrella under one arm and took the tools out of his hands. I meant to help him, but the moment I touched them, his face went pale.

“Oh no, you’ll get dirt on you! I mean, how could I...”

It was just a spray bottle and a hand shovel, but he reacted like I’d touched raw sewage. He looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. His exaggerated panic made me feel oddly guilty.

“I’ll hold them—just pack them into your bag one at a time. Will they all fit in there?”

“Y-Yes, just a moment... gosh...”

He fumbled to open the bag strapped at his waist. It was bigger than I thought—it must’ve been designed to carry all his gardening tools. If he had that, he could’ve just used it from the start. While I was having that pointless thought, he rapidly stuffed everything I held into the bag like a man escaping a crime scene.

“Ugh, this filthy mess...”

The dirt really wasn’t that bad. There was a sink inside; it would be easy to rinse off.

“Here—take this.”

I practically shoved the umbrella into his hands. Because he was wearing gloves, the dry dirt smeared all over the black handle. He looked between my hand and my face, eyes wide as if they might pop out.

“Are you really giving this to me? But the madam—I mean, the president...”

President. That title sounded like it had been chosen after some internal debate. Judging by his demeanor, he was probably a beta. Still, it must’ve felt awkward, a man calling another man’s fiancé something like that.

“It’s fine. Just use it.”

“No, I really can’t...”

“Someone can come pick me up.”

I didn’t specify who. If I made a call, someone from the seemingly endless staff roster could come get me. I didn’t mention that I didn’t know how to contact them—that wasn’t something the gardener needed to know.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ah...”

His soft brown eyes darted in all directions. He looked out the window, then back at the umbrella. He didn’t return it immediately—probably because the handle was so dirty.

“But the president will be late today, won’t he...”

“......”

...President?

“I mean, he’d come if you called, of course, but still...”

I didn’t catch the rest of what he said. The word “president” had kicked up a whirlwind of questions. He couldn’t possibly be referring to me. So then—was he saying that if I called, Kwon Yido would come pick me up?

“...If you keep going on like this, I’m going to feel awkward too. I’m fine. Please, go ahead.”

When I answered firmly, he shut his mouth right away. When I told him to just bring back the umbrella later, he couldn’t even respond. I waved him off with a polite excuse about reading and brushed the dirt from my hands.

‘I heard you weren’t coming today...’

I didn’t have to think hard to know who he’d heard that from. The only person who’d know whether I’d be in the greenhouse or not—there was just one.

“What kind of image do I have around here...”

Come to think of it, the day I first arrived, Kwon Yido had told the staff not to bother me. One line like that wouldn’t cause this level of tension, so he must’ve given them other instructions.

From the start, the way the staff avoided me hadn’t felt like disdain—it felt more like wariness. As if something terrible would happen if they made a mistake around me, everyone was constantly on edge.

“So it’s not exactly ostracism...”

I was used to reading a room. At home, at work—I’d been surrounded by every kind of hostility. The unease of not sharing blood, the stigma of being a nepotistic hire—those were scars that would never fully fade.

What I’d learned through that was simple: how to read what people thought of me. Whether someone found me intimidating, uncomfortable, or just outright disliked me. It was all part of keeping up appearances—and understanding my place.

And here, in this house, I was truly being treated like a fiancé.