* * *
“Oh my, Taesan, aren’t you being a bit harsh? Our company has excellent benefits. Besides, Assistant Manager Yoo is a top performer—he even received the Best Employee Award, so he was granted a paid leave as a reward.”
“Where did he go?”
“Well, who knows? That’s personal information. We don’t keep track of where our employees go. It’s not like we have only a handful of staff… Eum is quite a large company, you know.”
Ki Taeryu clenched his teeth and gripped the document tightly.
“I’m sorry, but please don’t crumple that.”
CEO Lee quickly took back the file and smoothed out the already-creased corners with his palm.
“Now, has our headquarters director found all the answers he was looking for?”
“Do you truly have no idea where Yoo Junhee went? He didn’t say anything to anyone?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. He’s not an executive, and I don’t interact with Assistant Manager Yoo that often. Don’t you also rarely meet with your subordinates?”
Faced with CEO Lee’s unshakable logic, Taeryu had no choice but to back down.
He had always felt it—there was something unsettling about CEO Lee.
That sickening feeling… was strangely familiar.
“Let me know the moment he returns.”
“Of course. I’ll be sure to inform you, Director.”
When he narrowed his eyes, he resembled a sly fox.
CEO Lee even went as far as opening the office door himself to see Taeryu out.
His actions made it clear—he was busy, so he should hurry up and leave.
“Take care, Director.”
Pushing Taeryu out the door, he firmly shut it behind him.
“Phew. That was intense.”
Back at his desk, he leaned back in his chair and straightened his posture.
“I hope our Assistant Manager Yoo manages to stay hidden.”
Judging by those half-crazed eyes, getting caught would be disastrous.
CEO Lee picked up his phone from the desk and sent a message to someone.
With practiced ease, he tapped the screen, and the message was sent.
[Your brother was here.]
“Wow…”
Junhee let out a gasp of admiration as he stepped into the lodging, key in hand.
Through the wide glass window, the ocean stretched out in a breathtaking view.
The climb up had been exhausting due to the steep incline, but now that he was here, all the struggle of carrying his luggage up the slope vanished from memory.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden shimmer across the waves.
Mesmerized, Junhee stood frozen, watching the sunset until the last traces of orange disappeared from the sky.
“…It’s beautiful.”
How long had it been since he last saw the ocean?
So long ago that he couldn’t even remember.
In his twenty-five years of life, he could count on one hand the times he had visited the sea.
Despite the unfamiliar scenery and the strange new environment, he felt surprisingly at peace.
The place was far too spacious for one person.
It was a two-story lodging with four bedrooms and two bathrooms.
As he wandered around, taking in the surroundings, his legs suddenly gave out, and he collapsed onto the stairs.
He was utterly drained—like an empty husk.
“…I should wash up first.”
He had been sweating all day.
Dragging himself into the bathroom, he sat under the shower.
His legs were so weak he couldn’t even stand.
His body looked just as wrecked as it had in the morning.
‘This is all because of Ki Taeryu…’
The thought of him surfaced instinctively, and Junhee immediately twisted the shower knob.
Cold water splashed over his face, shocking him back to his senses.
‘Let’s not think about that bastard.’
…At least while I’m here.
With that resolution, he somehow managed to finish showering and stepped out of the bathroom.
As he roughly towel-dried his hair, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table.
A reply had arrived to the message he had sent earlier.
[Snow Papa: Don’t mention it.]
[Snow Papa: Help yourself to the fridge too.]
The fridge?
With a towel draped over his shoulder, Junhee trudged toward the kitchen.
When he swung open the doors of the large gray refrigerator, he found it packed with fresh ingredients—as if someone had just gone grocery shopping.
Curious, he checked the cupboards above the sink and found them fully stocked with instant rice, ramen, and canned food.
Junhee immediately typed out a message.
[Me: What’s all this?]
[Snow Papa: I asked the owner to stock it up.]
[Snow Papa: Ah! Don’t touch the canned food.]
Junhee tilted his head and picked up one of the cans.
A cute cat photo was printed on the label.
“…Ah, it’s Snow’s.”
He hadn’t planned on eating, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have the strength to endure the soreness spreading through his body.
After some deliberation, he settled on a cup of ramen.
Once he finished, he sprawled across the couch in the living room.
Rolling over lazily, he gazed out the window.
The line between the ocean and the sky was blurred.
As darkness deepened, countless stars scattered across the night sky like crushed stardust.
“…It’s beautiful.”
The unfamiliar silence filling the house felt strange, yet not unpleasant.
It was as if he was alone on an uninhabited island.
Everything was still, utterly quiet.
The sea was far away, yet he could almost hear the waves crashing against the shore.
His tired eyelids drooped, covering his vision like a soft blanket.
But sleep never came. Instead, the heat and warmth of last night replayed vividly in his mind.
“……”
It had barely been an hour since he swore not to think about it.
Yet, the memory was far too intense to forget.
A long, restless night was waiting for him.
“Isn’t that guy a total psycho?”
“Looks like it.”
“Right? Even you think so, huh?”
Doyoung smiled fondly as Siwon fumed with anger.
How could someone be so adorable even when they were mad?
Honestly, a love-struck Doyoung would nod along even if Siwon claimed red beans could ferment into soy sauce.
Among the people left in the Hanbit Orphanage after that ‘psycho’ had stormed through, the only one who wasn’t afraid was Bodam.
“Boss that man’s eyes look weird…”
“Shh! Bodam, be quiet!”
Though the older kids hurriedly covered Bodam’s mouth, it was too late—Ki Taeryu’s chilling gaze had already locked onto him.
“Ahhh!!”
“R-Run!!”
The kids scattered in all directions, terrified just by the look in his eyes.
“Hey, kid.”
Taeryu reached out and lifted Bodam up with ease.
“Mister, what’s wrong?”
“Where’s Yoo Junhee?”
“Junie hyung? Uh, he’s working really hard at the company!”
No one wanted to deal with Ki Taeryu, who clearly looked unhinged, but Bodam was the only one who took him seriously and kept talking to him.
“I already checked the company.”
“Hmm… then, home?”
“I checked there too.”
Taeryu’s gaze darkened again as he responded.
“Boss Mister, your eyes look weird!”
“Of course, they do. Where could Yoo Junhee have gone?”
“They look really, really weird!”
“…It’s been 48 hours. They say 48 hours is the golden time.”
He muttered ominously, like a man truly out of his mind.
He had searched every possible place Junhee might have gone.
Not only did he put Ye Shiljang through the wringer, but he had also hired private investigators nationwide and even put up a reward.
And yet, there was still no word.
Nothing could be more bizarre.
As if Junhee had shut himself away on some deserted island.
He had bet everything he had on finding Junhee within 48 hours, but now he was on the verge of losing it all.
No, he already felt like he had lost everything.
“Na Bodam, go to your brother. Now.”
Taeryu nearly snatched Bodam out of Siwon’s arms and staggered backward.
Unable to watch any longer, Moon Doyoung stepped forward and tapped Taeryu’s shoulder.
“Excuse me, Ki Taeryu.”
“…….”
“Sigh. Alphas, seriously. You guys really don’t get how Omegas think.”
Tsk, tsk.
The clicking of his tongue made Taeryu turn around.
“You really don’t understand Yoo Junhee, do you? Well, I guess when you lose your mind, you stop seeing what’s right in front of you.”
Doyoung shrugged, as if it all made sense now.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about it properly. Stop thinking only from your own perspective and try seeing it from Yoo Junhee’s. From the start, you’re looking at him from way up high—how are you supposed to understand him? You’re standing too far above him to even see.”
That was why Doyoung always visited the orphanage to spend time with Siwon—so he could match his gaze.
Matching gazes, locking eyes, and eventually… matching lips, matching bodies—it all connected.
‘Not that I know if this arrogant, dominant Alpha could ever understand that.’
Unless he swallowed that towering pride of his, it seemed nearly impossible.
“Anyway, take what I said to heart. It took me a while to realize it too.”
As Doyoung turned to leave, his shoulder was suddenly seized.
The grip was so strong that he nearly let out a yelp, and when he turned back, he was met with Taeryu’s piercing gaze.
“So, where is Yoo Junhee?”
“…You’re seriously insane.”
Doyoung recoiled in disgust, yanking his arm free before retreating behind Siwon and Bodam.
Then, in a small voice, he muttered,
“Of course he ran away. If I were Yoo Junhee, I’d have run too.”
* * *
