The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 61

Ye jun

I woke up before my alarm even thought about buzzing, heart already doing that stupid jackhammer thing in my chest like I’d chugged three Red Bulls in my sleep. The USB was tucked inside my sock drawer under a pile of old gym socks that smelled , but I still checked it three times before I even brushed my teeth. It was there. Solid. Real. Mine now.

Downstairs Mom was already clanging pans like she was auditioning for a cooking show nobody asked for. Dad sat at the table scrolling his phone, glasses sliding down his nose. Si-woo wasn’t there yet. Good. Let the bastard sleep off whatever poison-and-concussion cocktail he’d invented in his head.

I grabbed the orange juice carton and poured myself a glass, then poured one for Dad too without being asked. Extra helpful. Extra innocent. "Morning," I said, sliding the glass over like I was Mother Teresa in sweatpants.

Dad grunted. Didn’t look up. "You’re chipper."

"Got a good sleep," I lied, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. Inside I was screaming He puked his guts out because of me and I stole his entire future, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaa this was it, my justice, my everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted to get, omfggggg.

Mom turned from the stove. "Si-woo’s still in bed. Said his head’s killing him. Poor thing. Probably that fall he took last week. Concussion’s no joke."

"Yeah," I said, nodding like I gave a shit. "Tragic."

Footsteps on the stairs. Slow. Heavy. Si-woo appeared in the doorway looking like someone had dragged him through hell backward. Face gray. Eyes puffy. Hair sticking up in directions that defied physics. He didn’t even glance at me just shuffled to the table, dropped into a chair, and put his forehead on the wood like it was a pillow.

"Morning, sunshine," I said sweetly.

He lifted his head just enough to glare. "Shut the fuck up."

Mom clicked her tongue. "Language. And eat something. You look like some one nearing his death.."

"Not hungry," he muttered.

Dad finally looked up. "You submitting today?"

Si-woo rubbed his temples. "Tomorrow. Got till midnight tonight. Just... need to double-check a couple things."

My stomach did a tiny victory flip. Tomorrow. Perfect. He’d open his laptop, see the beautiful front pages I left untouched, then watch the back half collapse like a house of cards made of wet toilet paper.

I sipped my juice. "Need help with anything?"

Si-woo snorted so hard it sounded painful. "From you? I’d rather staple my dick to the desk."

"Romantic," I said. "Offer stands."

He ignored me, grabbed a banana like it personally offended him, and peeled it slowly. Mom set a plate of eggs in front of him anyway. He stared at it like it might bite.

I finished breakfast fast, excused myself, and went upstairs pretending I had classwork. Door locked. Laptop open. USB in. Files copied over in under two minutes. I renamed the folder "Backup_Shit" just to be petty. Then I opened my own blank project file and started pasting in the early sketches the good ones, the ones that actually had soul before I fucked with the measurements and fabric codes. My fingers flew. This was mine now. Officially.

Half an hour later I heard Si-woo’s door creak open. I minimized everything, heart kicking again. Footsteps down the hall. His room door shut. Then silence.

I cracked my own door and peeked.

He was at his desk already. Laptop open. Clicking. Scrolling. Then he stopped. Leaned closer. Frowned. Clicked faster. Muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like "what the actual fuck."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Yes. Yes yes yes.

He slammed the laptop shut. Stood up. Paced once. Twice. Ran fingers through his hair so hard I thought he’d rip it out. Then he opened it again. More clicking. More muttering. "No no no no this isn’t...fuck."

I had to press my fist to my mouth to keep me from laughing out loud. He looked like shit. He felt like shit. And now his perfect little project was shitting itself too.

He grabbed his phone. Typed fast. Probably texting someone on the team. Or maybe just screaming into the void.

I shut my door quiet and leaned against it, grinning like an idiot. "He looks like shit," I whispered to myself. "Good. Let him feel small for once."

But then the little voice in my head the annoying one that always shows up right when I’m winning whispered back: What if he figures it out? What if the sabotage is too obvious? What if he has backups?

I shoved that voice down with both hands.

No. He was fucked. I made sure.

Later that afternoon I arrived at Titis mansion and I found Titi in the backyard smoking one of those skinny cigarettes she pretends are "vapes." She’s my bad assistant. Basically runs my office when I’m pretending to be important and a good person. She’s also the only person in this world who doesn’t treat me like a walking disappointment.

I sat on the porch step next to her. "Hey."

She exhaled smoke away from me. "What’s up, trouble?"

"I need advice."

She raised an eyebrow. "About?"

"The project. Si-woo’s project. I... kinda want in."

She laughed once, sharp. "You want in now? After everything? Aren’t you already in girl..."

"I have good ideas. Early stuff. I could talk to his dad I wanna present too...."

"Jun." She flicked ash. "If you suddenly show up with half his work your dad’s gonna ask questions. Si-woo’s gonna ask questions. And Si-woo’s smart enough to smell bullshit from three rooms away. You really want him sniffing around your files right now?"

I swallowed. She was right. Fuck, she was right.

"He’s submitting tomorrow," I said quieter. "I just... I want him to crash. Hard. In front of everyone."

Titi studied me for a long second. "Then let him crash. Don’t touch anything else. Don’t show your hand. Sit back and watch the fireworks. You already did the hard part, yeah?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now go do homework or whatever normal people do. And stop looking so guilty. You’re terrible at it."

I went inside feeling half-deflated, half-pumped. She was right. I couldn’t rush it. I had to wait for maximum embarrassment.