SPW 76

Florian had already judged the phenomenon I experienced as a ‘mysterious phenomenon.’ A mysterious phenomenon could be described as an unknown world that cannot be explained by current knowledge and science. Like the correlation between alphas and omegas.

Most manifested individuals did not deeply contemplate the meaning of their existence, just as humans do not question the fact that they are human. Florian did not burn with academic passion for mysterious phenomena like the ‘realization of a dream.’ Living in the present, not in dreams or the past, Florian’s best course of action was to avoid misfortune.

‘Originally, he would have called Colin’s name, not mine.’

It was a feeling closer to despair than jealousy. An angry despair that, no matter what he did, he could be nothing more than a substitute for Colin to Sarang. He could clearly feel the twisted Sarang of the Florian in the dream.

Was he trying to warn me that Sarang, too, could experience a pheromone problem?

“…”

Getting out of bed, Florian immediately called Bailey.

Yes, boss.

“Is the Colin file ready?”

Yes, boss. Should I report in person now?

After a moment of contemplation, Florian opened the door and went out. The first-floor drawing room of the mansion was quiet. It had been four days since he returned to Canton City from New York, and it was now May 25th. Sarang’s heat had not started. This meant that his heat would not come this month. It also meant that the previous heat, which had started a month early, was a temporary phenomenon influenced by Florian’s pheromones.

The fact that his cycle wasn’t continuously affected just because it was disrupted once also meant that Sarang was a healthy dominant alpha. 21 years old, dominant alpha, a major leaguer, a starting player for Rhinoceros FC—one of the Big 6 clubs in the league—and a national representative for his country. Looking at his profile alone, the public had dug into the flawless and outstanding Sarang’s other side, and they would continue to do so.

7 A.M. A dim dawn settled into the unlit drawing room. It was gloomy outside the window. Sarang, who had refrained from going out for a while after their bid for the Champions League was thwarted, had started jogging outside again. The indoor program must have been insufficient. Sticking to a daily life of repeated routines signified a strong mentality, and the fruit of that was the stamina that allowed him to run at full power for 100 minutes.

Sarang would not break down easily. If only he had just one person by his side. Sarang would be able to maintain himself without breaking down. Florian did not think that one person would be him. Because that would only be a repetition of the tragedy in the dream.

‘If that suspicion is true, Brad, Sarang Kim’s death is a success! Hahaha!’

The death of the Sarang in the dream did not end with just death. In the background of the scathing criticism and ridicule directed at him was Florian. There was their pride in Florian. The half-alpha who dared to entice their machinations, a trivial and insignificant Asian soccer player. At the base of that scathing criticism lay an arrogant sense of superiority and contempt. Furthermore, they branded Sarang as Florian’s blemish, a dishonor to the ducal house. From the moment Sarang had made no mistakes, nor caused any accidents.

Reality would be no different.

Damned Dietrich.

“…”

‘You’re fine. Of course, you should be. You’re my blood, after all.’

It was an attitude that didn’t even see the medical devices dangling all over the body of the seven-year-old young duke, who was not fine at all. Albert Dietrich. The 5th head of the Ducal House of Dietrich, Florian’s grandfather, the father who had lost a son and blamed the death of Florian’s late father, Richard Dietrich, on Florian’s mother.

The helicopter crash that took Richard Dietrich’s life was not Florian’s mother, Grace Wellington’s, fault. The crash was not someone’s conspiracy or a terrorist act, but simply an unfortunate accident. Merely, the fact that the crashed helicopter’s destination was Grace Wellington’s family home was enough to make Grace the culprit who had killed her husband.

It was Richard who had sent Grace, who had become frail after childbirth, to the Wellington family in the United States. It was with the hope that she would recover her mind and body surrounded by clear weather and her family, not by fickle weather and aristocrats adorned with formalities. Even while handling an excessive workload, Richard made sure to visit Grace once a week to spend the night. That was Richard Dietrich’s way of loving.

Grace, who had grown into her black mourning clothes, attended Richard’s funeral. She stood with her back straight, not showing her sorrow, in front of the Duke of Dietrich, who glared at her as if she were an enemy.

For Grace, who had left her home country for love alone to become a member of the ducal house, the strict rules and laws were one source of stress after another. For Grace, who had grown up shining with a free and fresh vitality like the wind, the role of a duchess was not a good fit from the start. But Grace thought she could overcome it with love. Yes, she tried to overcome it with love.

Kissing Grace, who was withering away, unable to do so, Richard promised eternal love. Grace, too, had intended to return to Richard’s side. That was why she could leave Florian, who had just passed his 100th day and closely resembled Richard’s blond hair and Grace’s bright blue eyes, at the ducal house.

After Richard’s death, the Dietrichs and the Wellingtons entered into a custody battle before the soil on the grave had even set. The custody battle, which is still talked about from time to time as a dispute of the century, ended after six years. There was no winner. The mediator in the winnerless fight was a six-year-old child. Young Florian felt responsible for the fight between his loving mother and grandfather. And he pitied his grandfather, who was left alone in a huge castle, more than his mother, who had family by her side. The lawsuit ended with Florian’s choice.

‘Mother, I want to stay with Grandfather.’

It was not only the adults who were exhausted by the long, long fight. Grace, looking at Florian, who had become much more mature than his age, could not hold back her tears. And she confessed her love to her son.

‘Rian, I didn’t abandon you. I left because I was trying to come back to you. I’m sorry if my choice hurt you. But Mommy really was trying to come back to you.’

‘I know, Mom. So please don’t be sad.’

Wiping away Grace’s tears with his tiny hands, Florian expressed his angelic heart with an angelic face.

‘I feel sorry for Grandfather, who is all alone.’

Florian, who had spent his time going back and forth between the Dietrich castle and the Wellington estate for a month at a time while the lawsuit was ongoing, had suddenly woken up from his sleep late one night in the middle of the large castle. Florian, who had left his bedroom looking for his mother in his sleep, discovered a faint light leaking into the hallway.

The scene inside the room was visible through the slightly open gap. In the dimly lit study, his grandfather was drinking alone. There was no crying, no sobbing, but Florian could read a deep sorrow in his grandfather’s stooped and gaunt back. It was the worthless pity of a young child.

What Albert Dietrich loved was only the title of Duke and the honor of the family. He thought of and educated his son, and his son’s son, not as people, but only as tools to carry on the ducal house. What Richard discovered in Grace was freedom. It was her free vitality that made him fall head over heels for Grace.

Florian thought he would never be able to love like his father. And that thought had not changed even now. Unlike his father, Florian, who bore neither a yearning for freedom nor a duty to his family, had no deficiencies.

‘I can’t give a single pound to the likes of you who don’t even know the basics of negotiation.’

Albert Dietrich’s cold judgment had shattered the naive young master’s pity and compassion early on. That was of great help to Florian in his life. Meanwhile, his strong and beautiful mother taught Florian about freedom and poured out her warm love for him. Under his mother, Grace’s, great wings, Florian regained the stability he had lost and was able to find his balance from the repeated falls where the ground beneath him crumbled.

Now, to Florian, Albert Dietrich was nothing more than a brain-dead man whose day of death was not far off. The flame-like anger and the sense of betrayal that had gnawed at his soul had all evaporated the day Albert Dietrich collapsed. Florian neither forgave nor resented his grandfather. Because he was not someone who warranted such feelings.

“…”

Florian, who had been gripping the back of the sofa as if to break it, lifted his head. It was not the face he had been expecting. Florian’s eyes, staring at Bailey entering in his usual manner, froze over coldly.

The face he had been expecting?

It was clearly Sarang’s face, smiling brightly at him.

“…”

It was Sarang he had hoped would open that door and come in. What Florian had naturally pictured was also Sarang’s bright smile.

「Rian, I love you.」

Did I get too attached?

Florian, his mind complicated because things did not seem to be going according to plan, greeted Bailey with a displeased face.