“......”

“You got a good look at their faces, right?”

A derisive snort rang out. Something about how uneducated people are the worst, how they don’t know their place and piss you off. Mr. Kim responded with a professional tone, undeterred by the muttering.

“Yes, I remember them.”

“......”

What should I do. Changing the subject would be easy, but even if Minjae’s attention wandered, Mr. Kim wasn’t the type to forget an order. His unnecessarily meticulous work ethic only got in the way at times like this.

“...Shame.”

I started buttoning my vest one by one as I spoke. Minjae, who had been in the middle of complaining, narrowed his eyes at me. His glare sharpened with thorns, and the twist of his lips turned cold.

“What, what’s so shameful?”

In my experience, Minjae only got more riled up when I disagreed with him. If I so much as hinted at siding with the employees, he’d make sure they were fired on the spot.

I needed to strike a balance—detached enough to avoid provoking him, just disappointed the way anyone might be when someone they barely knew left.

“It’s just... that guy was quiet. Made things easier.”

“......”

Surprisingly, it was Mr. Kim who reacted. He frowned slightly and let out a small laugh while looking away. Luckily, Minjae didn’t catch it, raising an eyebrow with a crooked smirk.

“He looked like a damn chatterbox to me... So what?”

“Just saying. You know me. I don’t like talking to people.”

I shrugged as I fastened the final button. After smoothing the hem of the vest, Minjae narrowed his eyes, and his lips twitched, as if about to speak.

“Great, now I’ve gotta deal with someone new again...”

It was an excuse only half-based in truth. Whether I adapted quickly or not, new people and new environments were just a pain. Minjae knew that too—he clicked his tongue and crossed his legs the other way.

“God, you’re a damn social failure... And you’re supposed to be the director?”

There was no need to answer. I gave him a faint smile, and it seemed to ease his mood. He tapped his toes a few times, then raised his chin decisively.

“Mr. Kim, just leave those guys alone.”

A great act of mercy—at least from Minjae’s point of view.

“That brain-dead idiot Jung Sejin is too embarrassing to show in public.”

In the mirror, Mr. Kim turned his head. He said “Yes, understood,” with his lips, but his eyes were fixed on me—intently, pointedly. As if this was some rare occurrence. As if.

“So, what are you doing here anyway?”

This was the perfect moment to steer the conversation. Mr. Kim, reading the mood, approached with a jacket in the same color as the clothes I was wearing. I slid my arms into it as he helped me dress, and Minjae immediately scrunched his face.

“You’re getting married?”

I looked up at him. Slouched arrogantly on the couch, Minjae wrinkled his nose.

“Seriously?”

He didn’t know?

“You came all the way here to ask me that—”

“I asked you if it’s fucking true!”

He shouted, uncrossing his legs. He spread his thighs wide and hung his arms over his knees. His tapping shoes against the floor somehow looked anxious.

“It’s true.”

I adjusted the lapels of the jacket and Mr. Kim straightened the wrinkled back collar. It was a new fabric, and the way it hugged my frame didn’t feel half bad.

“Why else would I be using my leave like this?”

As a student, Minjae had no authority in Haesin Group’s operations. He was supposed to be studying abroad, and being in Korea now was just a thinly veiled escape. It made sense he might not have known about the engagement—but coming here to confirm it felt... off.

“Funny. I didn’t think you gave a damn about business.”

“...Business?”

Minjae repeated in a low voice, then stomped his foot. The sound of his grinding teeth made the air feel grim.

“You’ve lost your damn mind.”

He shot to his feet and stalked toward me with aggression. We were about the same height, so it wasn’t particularly intimidating. He tapped my shoulder a few times, dragging out his words in a mocking tone.

“Business? You just call this business?”

“......”

“Get a fucking grip. You’re being sold off. And you think your pathetic excuse for a wedding is ‘business’?”

The aroma of his cologne got stronger with the distance closed. He must’ve rushed here without even remembering to spray his usual perfume.

“What, is the other guy an alpha? Wanting a kid with a rare trait or something? Or is it some old bastard curious what a defective omega tastes like?”

The first one, I wasn’t sure about. But the second? Definitely not. Kwon Yido was thirty-two—only three years older than me. Whether he was curious about how an omega like me tasted... well, that wasn’t my concern.

“Cut it out. Don’t drag the family name through the mud. Just tell Father you’re not doing it.”

Apparently finished talking, Minjae flopped back onto the couch. He muttered something under his breath in a low, disgruntled voice.

“Can’t even function as an omega and you wanna get married...”

“......”

I felt Mr. Kim’s gaze. Contrary to his concern, this was nothing new for me.

“That what you came here to say?”

Some people are desperate to manifest rare traits. Not me. I’ve never once been thankful for being what I am. Whether it was because, as Father put it, I was a “defective omega,” or because, as Minjae sneered, I couldn’t even do what an omega was supposed to—my secondary gender was just one more excuse for my family to belittle me.

“Yeah. Like I’d come just to see you.”

His curt voice rang in my ears. As always, but especially today, he seemed particularly irritable.

“Sorry, but the date’s already been set.”

The wedding date hadn’t been fixed yet, but I said it anyway. There was no point laying out every detail—it wouldn’t change anything.

“The engagement’s next Saturday.”

“You think I didn’t know that? Just cancel the damn thing!”

Telling Father that would get me disowned on the spot. Cancel a promise with Seonho Group? He’d never allow it unless he’d gone completely mad.

“The guy’s probably just some mid-sized CEO. Who gives a shit about an engagement? Mr. Kim! Cancel the Saturday plans. Now.”

Minjae snapped at Mr. Kim like he expected immediate compliance. But his hope was shattered instantly.

“That’s not possible, young master.”

“...What?”

Minjae’s eyes widened in disbelief. His pupils shook violently as Mr. Kim calmly shook his head.

“Our engagement partner is Seonho Group.”

Just as he had reminded me earlier, he now reminded Minjae. There was no need for me to step in—his next words made it clear.

“A one-sided cancellation from our side would be difficult.”

“......”

Minjae knew. Knew how outrageous he was being. That’s why he went pale and clamped his mouth shut.

“This is a matter of corporate trust.”

I straightened my clothes in the mirror. The suit was more ivory than pearl white. I’d need a colored pocket square to go with it. As I thought about that, I glanced sideways at Minjae.

“I can’t afford to ruin it because of me.”

“......”

Minjae lowered his head, visibly deflated. His earlier irritation was gone, and he was biting his lip hard. After a long moment, he slowly looked up with a face uncharacteristically serious.

“So what, you’re gonna spread your legs for some alpha stranger?”

“Young master!”

Mr. Kim shouted in shock. Even I thought that crossed a line. The reality of it all washed over me, and a dry laugh escaped.

“I don’t know. Maybe just my mouth. Maybe both.”

“......”

The air froze. Both Minjae and Mr. Kim turned their heads in stunned silence. I hadn’t meant to go that far. My mouth just moved on its own.

“Probably both in the end...”

Minjae wasn’t wrong. I was being sold off, and odds were high that what they wanted was a child with rare traits. If I married Kwon Yido, I’d be expected to lie down for him every night like breeding stock.

“Guess it’s a good thing. When else am I ever gonna do what an omega’s supposed to?”

“......”

Minjae’s face flushed deep red. His voice trembled violently as he muttered curses, his neck veins bulging. One more word and he might’ve exploded.

“...It’s a joke.”

So I picked up the spilled water before it was too late. I didn’t know what kind of reaction he expected, but this was the best I could do. Whether it was Mr. Kim or Minjae—why were they both so desperate to provoke me?

“Don’t take it so seriously. It was just a joke.”

“......”

“Since you came all the way here... want a suit too? I’ll get you one before I get married.”

I tried to sound friendly. I even offered to pick something for Seoyoung, our youngest. Minjae clenched his fists, face going from red to blue. I thought he’d start swearing, but surprisingly, he stayed quiet.

“You’re a real piece of shit...”

Though his tone was still plenty sharp.

“With taste like garbage, what the hell are you gonna buy me. That suit looks like ass on you.”

“Yeah?”

I turned to study myself in the mirror. It was a fitting sample, but the size wasn’t bad. The shoulder line sat well, and the vertical seams were clean. Honestly, it looked fine to me. Maybe the white was just too flashy.

“Yeah, it’s fucking awful. You look better in dark, gloomy colors.”

He pointed to a basic, off-the-rack suit. One none of the staff had bothered to look at. The fabric was clearly cheaper than what I was wearing—something no one would miss if it disappeared.

“That’s more your level.”

The ceremonial suit I wore felt alien. The rows of hanging suits reminded me of myself, once waiting to be “processed.” Still, I suppose it was a good thing I could wear expensive packaging ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ now.

“Then I’ll get that one too.”

“......”

Mr. Kim frowned. A man of refined taste, he probably couldn’t stand something so mass-produced. His expression asked, Why are you like this? But I had no duty to answer him.

“Mr. Kim. Get the tailoring done on both designs. Use the last measurements.”

“...You’re really going to wear that one too?”

“Of course. When have I ever joked?”

I said it playfully, but he immediately stiffened. He almost looked like he wanted to say, You just said you were joking earlier. But he swallowed the words. I knew he’d still put in the order without complaint.

“The schedule after this...”

“Not sure.”

I took off the jacket and handed it to Mr. Kim. I figured I should smooth things over with Minjae, but a part of me wondered—why bother. The push of reality again drained what little motivation I had.

“Maybe I’ll just go home and sleep...”

At the very least, I had to pretend to maintain my condition until the engagement. Father had even given me sleeping pills. I had to get as much rest as I could. Not that popping a handful ever actually helped.

“I’ll have the car brought around.”

Mr. Kim looked surprised but accepted my request easily. His gaze flitted between me and Minjae, as if pitying us both. I checked the time idly, then changed my mind in a hurry.

“No—let’s head to the office first.”

“...Jesus. You’re possessed by some ghost that died working.”

Minjae grumbled, appalled that I was returning to work on a vacation day. Mr. Kim furrowed his brow too, as if asking if that was really necessary.

“You could rest today...”

“No.”

It wasn’t that I hated rest. But the thought that struck me cut that desire off. I had a full week left. After the engagement, there’d be plenty of time to take off.

And maybe,

“It’d be better to start handing things over now.”

I might be done working—for good.

***

Jung Sejin, Head of Strategic Planning, Haesin Financial Group.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that title was something Father had written in by hand. From the day I became his son. The day I wandered barefoot through snow in a freezing winter. The day he brought me—someone with no family—into the Haesin household as its eldest son.

Twenty years passed. Now twenty-nine, I sat as director of Haesin Group. I had gained much, lost just as much, and what remained would soon be lost too. But I’d never had a claim to any of it, so there wasn’t much to regret.

“We’ve arrived, Director.”

Time passed quickly. The engagement was now just a day away. I’d been so busy lately that I even earned Father’s wrath. He had Mr. Kim cancel all my appointments, replacing them with massages and skincare sessions.

As a result, the car now smelled like the same aroma Minjae had earlier. The driver even sniffed and asked if I’d changed colognes. But even the so-called calming herbal scent couldn’t relieve the exhaustion from chronic insomnia.

“Are you all right? You look very tired...”

The driver opened the door and studied my face with concern. Everyone today—staff, Mr. Kim, even this man—had looked at me with that same gaze. I must really look like hell. There was only one answer I could give.

“I didn’t sleep well.”

That usually satisfied most people. Nine out of ten backed off after hearing it. Only Mr. Kim would give me that look that said, So you are human after all. Fortunately, the driver was the former type. He nodded silently.

“Then I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

He gave me a light nod as I walked away. Every step felt like gravity had tripled. It wasn’t just that I didn’t sleep well—it was everything. But there was no way I could explain all that.

Sejin-ah.

“......”

I sighed and tapped my card at the building’s entrance. This needlessly tall officetel was where I’d first “moved out” at twenty. Though honestly, “moved out” made it sound too nice. I was halfway kicked out.

Sejin-ah.

“...Quit calling me that.”

That damn Sejin-ah. No one but Father ever called me that. Why act familiar like we’ve known each other forever? And if I didn’t answer, the name always changed—

Jung Sejin.

I shut my eyes tight, then opened them again. I tried to focus on the mechanical hum of the building, but the voice in my head only grew louder. Sejin-ah. What started as a warm call soon turned bitter cold.

Act like a whore.

“......”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. I stepped in and pulled out the pill case from inside my jacket. One, two, three, four pills left. Not perfect, but hopefully enough to sleep through without waking.

“...Haa.”

A primal dread rose from my toes. Insomnia was one thing, but fear of sleep was something else. When you add not wanting to sleep to not being able to sleep... it’s a lost cause. I could count on one hand how many proper nights of sleep I’d had this past week.

Whrrr. The elevator ascended slowly. Reaching the top floor took longer than expected. I ran a hand down my face, trying to vent the pressure rising in my throat.

These days, I dream nightly of getting raped by a man I’ve never even seen.