Chapter 44

.

.

"One day... all of this will be yours, Shen Yu."

The voice that spoke those words had once been soft—warm in a way that felt steady and unshakable. Shen Yong stood behind him, a firm hand resting against Shen Yu’s lower back as he guided him into the office, as if ushering him into a future that had already been decided.

Shen Yu’s eyes widened as he stepped inside.

"Dad... all of this?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.

Shen Yong simply nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

But Shen Yu’s attention didn’t stay on the office for long. It shifted instead to the slightly taller boy standing quietly at the far end of the room.

"Kim Taehyun!"

At the sound of his name, the boy lifted his gaze. His dark eyes softened, and a faint smile appeared on his lips as he noticed Shen Yu’s excitement.

Without hesitation, Shen Yu ran over and slung an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders.

"We’ll work together, right?" he asked brightly.

Shen Yong chuckled as he leaned back against the desk. "I don’t see why not."

At that moment, it felt simple. Natural. Like something that would never change.

His friend.

That single thought echoed in Shen Yu’s mind as the memory shattered.

It didn’t fade gently. It broke—sharp and jagged—leaving behind an ache that never truly disappeared, no matter how many years passed. The warmth of that voice slowly twisted into something colder over time, thinning with irritation whenever Shen Yu called out to it. And the affection that was once his alone began to shift, piece by piece, until it was no longer his at all.

It was given to someone else.

To his "friend."

Someone who accepted it without hesitation, with hands that never loosened their grip, leaving Shen Yu with nothing but fragments of what used to be his.

Shen Yu exhaled slowly, staring up at the towering building before him. He had always hated coming here. Time did nothing to dull the discomfort; if anything, it made it sharper. Every visit dragged those memories back to the surface, reopening wounds he would rather ignore.

Still, he stepped inside.

People recognized him immediately—the chairman’s son—and that recognition worked in his favor. No one stopped him. No one questioned him.

He didn’t bother knocking.

He simply pushed the door open and walked in.

The moment he stepped inside, his expression darkened.

That scent.

It hit him instantly—thick, suffocating, and unmistakable.

Ocean.

For a brief second, something flickered in his mind. A distant memory from when he was sixteen, when that same scent had felt calm, almost comforting—something he had unconsciously sought out.

Now, it made his instincts bristle.

Now, it made him want to pin its owner to the ground.

Kim Taehyun looked up from the documents he had been signing. His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable, something Shen Yu had never quite been able to name.

Taehyun stood and walked over, stopping just in front of him. He leaned slightly closer, as if inspecting him, then inhaled.

A grin spread across his face.

"Not bad," he murmured. "Truly not bad."

Shen Yu didn’t respond.

"Our Mr. Shen finally got what he wanted," Taehyun added, amusement lacing his tone.

Shen Yu simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved past him, dropping into the chair Taehyun had just vacated. The seat spun slightly under his weight as he leaned back, his gaze steady and cold.

"Why did you call me here?" he asked.

Taehyun leaned against the desk, crossing his arms loosely. "I wanted to see it for myself. What Doctor Norman said." His lips curved faintly. "Manifesting at thirty-one... do you realize how rare that is? It’s like seeing a unicorn."

Shen Yu raised a brow, irritation already creeping in.

"Unicorns aren’t real, Taehyun."

"Exactly."

The conversation had already exhausted him.

Shen Yu stood abruptly, clearly done, and turned toward the door. But before he could leave—

"Our son’s birthday is on Wednesday."

His steps halted.

Taehyun’s voice remained calm, almost casual. "It would be a shame if his uncle didn’t show up, wouldn’t it?"

Shen Yu glanced at him over his shoulder and let out a quiet chuckle. "I’m busy."

"Are you?" Taehyun tilted his head slightly. "He’s turning seven. That means his manifestation is close. This won’t be a normal birthday party, and you know it."

Silence stretched between them.

"If you don’t go," Taehyun continued, his tone lowering just enough to sharpen the words, "Shen Mei will be forced to handle everything alone. Socializing, entertaining—because his older brother is ’busy.’"

Shen Yu’s hands curled into fists.

"You and I both know how Alphas treat omegas," Taehyun finished.

That did it.

Shen Yu’s gaze hardened, anger flashing openly now, but he said nothing. He turned and walked out without another word.

Behind him, the scent intensified.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

It spread through the office, thick enough to coat the back of his throat. Shen Yu stopped mid-step, his patience finally snapping as he turned back.

The air itself felt strained under the pressure of Taehyun’s pheromones—dominant, overwhelming, the kind that could bring others to their knees. An omega would already be struggling, heat triggered under the sheer force of it. Even another Alpha might falter.

But Shen Yu stood unaffected.

Calm.

Unmoved.

"Kim Taehyun," he said, his voice edged with annoyance, "do I look like an omega to you? Who exactly are you trying to dominate?"

For a brief moment, Taehyun’s composure slipped. His eyes widened—just slightly—before returning to normal.

Then he laughed softly.

"Interesting," he murmured, stepping closer. "You don’t react at all."

Shen Yu rolled his eyes.

He didn’t bother replying this time.

He simply turned and left.

—

Outside, the air felt clearer, though the irritation still lingered beneath his skin.

He stepped out of the building, slipping a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with practiced ease. Leaning against the wall, he took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cold air.

His phone vibrated.

He glanced down at the screen.

< Thank you for giving me your number, Shen Yu (^o^) >

He didn’t need to wonder who it was.

Jiang Li.

For a moment, he could almost picture him—hesitating, typing, deleting, then typing again. Probably staring at the message for far too long before finally sending it, face flushed with uncertainty.

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

He dropped the cigarette before it had even burned halfway and crushed it under his shoe.

Then he pushed himself off the wall and headed toward his car.

Had he made the right decision?

He didn’t know.

But one thing was clear—

He didn’t want that boy to remain a stranger anymore.