Ch 41

As the clock neared 10 p.m., Haneul hesitated briefly upon seeing his father and Ideun sitting across from each other in the study. However, as soon as he moved toward Ideun and sat beside him, he noticed the rigid expression on his father’s face.

“Now that Haneul is here as well, CEO Choi, let’s get to the point. I doubt you came at this hour just to exchange pleasantries.”

At his father’s words, Haneul instinctively glanced at Ideun. When he had entered the study, Ideun had briefly looked at him, but after that, he had only been staring at his father sitting across from him.

“I understand that everything concerning my relationship with Haneul has already been settled, but it seems Haneul is still unaware. To confirm matters, I took the liberty of visiting at this late hour.”

“I did hear from the chairman, but both you and our Haneul are still young, and there is plenty of time…”

Seeing Chairman Noh speak so smoothly without even a hint of surprise at his words, Ideun barely held back a bitter smile. Of course, Haneul acted so recklessly—when even the chairman himself refused to let go.

“Yes, we are young and have time, so let me be clear. I have no intention of marrying Chairman Noh’s son. My grandmother shares the same opinion. In fact, she is currently searching for a different match—someone older, with a stable social status.”

“Hyung!”

He had no intention of meeting, let alone marrying, whoever that old man pushed forward. However, he needed to make things painfully clear to them. After all, what kind of person was that old woman? She was neither generous nor kind, certainly not as much as these people believed. She wasn’t even particularly patient.

If this didn’t work, she would simply seek out another alternative. That was how she had always lived, and that was how she had built his wealth.

A woman who had no qualms about abandoning her own child wouldn’t hesitate to discard him as well. The fact that she had dragged Haneul into this mess to try and keep him tied down only proved that Haneul meant even less to her than a passing stranger. And yet, he thought he could hold onto that card for long? That was impossible.

That’s why, even though she was well aware of Ji-an’s presence by his side, his grandmother had tried pushing another Omega from a prestigious family onto him. It was almost laughable—because that attempt didn’t faze Ji-an in the slightest. If anything, it had only made Ideun look ridiculous. The old woman had already earned Ji-an’s deep-seated resentment before anything even began. Well, considering Ji-an had also lashed out at the chairman plenty of times, perhaps they were even.

“The person I choose to keep by my side is up to me. My marriage is also my decision. And one thing is certain—that person is not Noh Haneul. Whatever words you exchange with my grandmother or deals you try to strike, that is your choice, Chairman Noh. But if you expect me to be part of any arrangement, I highly recommend reconsidering.”

Ideun paused briefly, then spoke again, his tone unwavering even in the face of Chairman Noh’s stiffened expression.

“I am an adult with responsibilities and a business to run. I can’t continue being manipulated by my grandmother forever. As a child, perhaps I needed her shelter, her lessons, and her protection. But as an adult, I should be able to stand on my own.”

“Hyung, are you really doing this because of Seo Ji-an? It’s not him! It’s not!”

“Noh Haneul!”

Ideun had merely stated the truth, yet Haneul trembled as he brought up Seo Ji-an, and Chairman Noh raised his voice in an attempt to rein him in. Ideun let out a small cough, watching the scene unfold.

Right now, Ji-an was alone. Whether he was hugging Bobo and venting his frustrations, diligently following his advice and getting ready for bed, or even drinking whatever alcohol was left at home—he had no one to speak up for him, no one to express his emotions on his behalf. He was, as always, suppressing everything on his own.

“This isn’t a matter that will change just by talking it over. I’ll take my leave now. Thank you for making time despite the unannounced visit at this late hour.”

“I know my son may not be enough for you, but I raised him to be upright and kind. If I guide him a little more—”

So, he was raised to be ‘upright and kind,’ yet he still tore someone’s heart to shreds like that? Silencing them so thoroughly that they couldn’t even speak the truth? Forcing his emotions on someone, pressuring them, looking down on them under the guise of kindness and generosity, desperately trying to shove them away?

“Chairman Noh, have a pleasant evening.”

“Wait, hyung—no, Father… Hyung, please talk to me. You haven’t spoken to me properly yet. I still have things I need to say. Father, please, let me—”

As soon as Ideun stood up, Haneul grabbed his hand. His eyes, already reddened, darted anxiously between him and Chairman Noh. His voice trembled, just like when he had pleaded with him earlier that day.

It was so obvious how anxious and desperate he was. Meanwhile, Ji-an had swallowed everything—his insides rotting away, yet still forcing himself to keep going, his eyes empty of everything.

“This isn’t a conversation for me. It’s one that should be had between the two of you.”

Chairman Noh was clearly trying to give Haneul another opportunity, unwilling to leave his son in distress. As he subtly stepped aside to create space for them to talk, Ideun firmly shook off Haneul’s grip.

“There is nothing left to say. No matter how many times I try to explain, you refuse to listen, so let me be even clearer—Noh Haneul and I will never be in a relationship or get married. And I see he has entered the company as a parachute hire.”

Haneul flinched, glancing at Chairman Noh for reassurance, and Ideun couldn’t help but be dumbfounded. It seemed Chairman Noh hadn’t even known how Haneul had gotten into the company.

“He went through my business partner, Director Ha’s connections, without my knowledge. Since it’s already done, I won’t bother questioning the process. But if he fails to prove himself during the probation period, he won’t become a full-time employee.”

Ideun glanced down at Haneul, who stood there, covering his mouth with both hands, nervously shifting his gaze between him and Chairman Noh.

“To prevent any misunderstandings, let me define our relationship one more time. Noh Haneul is a probationary employee at my company. I am the company’s CEO. That is the extent of our relationship.”

“People’s relationships aren’t so easily defined. Life is full of tangled connections—”

Father and son were truly alike in their inability to understand.

“In that case, just give it a little more time. You will receive a wedding invitation soon. But I assure you—Noh Haneul’s name will not be on it.”

Stepping out of the house, leaving behind Haneul, who looked as if he might collapse in tears at any moment, and Chairman Noh, who hesitated awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his son, Ideun let out a long sigh.

“Hyung. Hyuuung!”

As Ideun tried to cool his head in the cold wind before getting into the car, he shook his head at Haneul’s tearful voice calling out to him, then got in. If there had been something between him and Haneul that could justify such a misunderstanding, perhaps he would have felt at least a twinge of guilt, but there was nothing.

All he had done was help Haneul when he almost tripped while suddenly running out as Ideun was on his way to meet Taemin. When Haneul asked for his contact information to thank him, Ideun had intended to brush it off, but Taemin had appeared, naturally dragging him into the situation. Apparently, Taemin and Haneul had known each other since childhood.

Haneul often visited the company to see Taemin and sometimes brought late-night snacks when Taemin worked overtime, leading to casual conversations among the three of them. And yet, out of nowhere, that old man had summoned him and told him to marry that kid?

Hoping he might at least be able to reason with the father, Ideun had gone to see him, but the visit only left him feeling more stifled.

Now, having turned off the recorder he had kept in his pocket all along, Ideun found himself standing at the entrance of his officetel.

As he stepped inside, the one to greet him was Bobo. The way the little one trotted out from the master bedroom suggested that Ji-an was inside. Given the silence, he was likely asleep. He always acted the opposite of what was expected, yet at times like this, he obediently listened to Ideun…

Carefully, to avoid making any noise, Ideun took off his coat and draped it over the sofa before entering the slightly open bedroom door. There, in the middle of the large bed, was Inyeong, buried deep in the blankets. The thick comforter was pulled up to his neck, and he lay facing away from the entrance, leaving only the round back of his head visible.

He had never been able to hold on to him from the start. Whenever he tried, Ji-an always slipped away like sand between his fingers. He had desperately wanted to keep him close, but in the end, Ji-an had never intended to stay by his side for long. Even background checks revealed nothing—there was something vast and insurmountable between them, something Ideun could never grasp unless Ji-an chose to speak of it himself.

Unlike someone who dreamed of marriage after just a few meals together, Ji-an had done so much in such a short time, only to firmly draw a line, bringing up the notion of a mere sex partner. The one holding the key to Ji-an’s heart was undoubtedly someone Ji-an had imprinted on.

How was he any different from Haneul right now? He, too, was demanding and clinging, asking Ji-an to stay simply because he liked him, because he loved him. Was this truly the right thing? Ji-an looked at him, but sometimes it felt like he was looking past him, toward someone else.

If Ji-an said he had found a place and planned to move out with Bobo, what excuse would Ideun have to make him stay?

How long had he stood there beside the bed, lost in thought? As Ji-an shifted and mumbled something, he turned over. At last, that drowsy, gentle face was revealed, and Ideun instinctively reached out—only to clench his fist, restraining himself.

Ji-an’s head rustled against the pillow as he moved slightly, then yawned as though sinking back into deep sleep. His drowsy eyes fluttered open, blinking a few times before settling on Ideun. A small smile bloomed on his lips.

After blinking once more to make sure, Ji-an closed his eyes again, and one hand slipped out from beneath the covers.

“…Ahjussi.”

Mumbling, Ji-an reached out and grasped Ideun’s clenched wrist. The warmth of someone deeply asleep, soft and comforting, spread through the touch.

Lately, he had seemed to be plagued by nightmares every night, but tonight must have been different.

He mumbled something more, but Ideun couldn’t make out the words. Then, the hand holding his wrist dropped gently onto the blanket, and soon, Ji-an drifted back into deep sleep.

For the first time, Ideun saw Ji-an wearing a truly peaceful smile. He couldn’t move an inch. Because that smile—was meant for him.

***

Ji-an found himself frozen in place, unable to move in front of the enormous snake.

It wasn’t just the sheer size of its coiled body—it was the fact that its head was raised high, directly facing him.

Its thick body appeared larger than his own torso. More than anything, though its mouth was currently closed, it seemed as if it could swallow him whole the moment it decided to open.

If it had been a more familiar color, like the patterned brown shades typical of serpents, perhaps it wouldn’t have felt so alien. But this snake was a perfect, unbroken black.

It was so close that he could feel its breath against his face with every exhale, ruffling his hair slightly.

The flicking red tongue, emerging with a soft hiss before retreating again, seemed only a hair’s breadth from brushing against his cheek.

Ji-an hesitated. If he tried to step back or turn and run, the snake would likely move faster and devour him in an instant.

So he remained frozen, blinking slowly. If only it would look elsewhere, he might have a chance to escape—but the snake’s attention remained fixed solely on him.

Yet it didn’t draw any closer, nor did it make any threatening moves.

As time stretched between them, it was the snake that first lost focus.

Its sleek black eyes, once locked onto him, wavered slightly as its head and neck swayed just a little, as if momentarily distracted.

Ji-an had waited patiently.

If it had intended to devour him, it would have done so already.

At first, he had been paralyzed by the primal fear that came from facing such a creature. But as time passed, that fear gradually ebbed away.

And in that time, he had learned a lot about the snake before him.

He had come to understand just how beautiful its black scales were—so much so that he found himself wanting to reach out and touch them.

Would they feel cold and smooth? Perhaps a little rough?

Somehow, he had a feeling this snake might actually be warm.

Lost in thought, Ji-an subconsciously lifted his hand.

Slowly, carefully, he extended it toward the snake.

The moment he did, the serpent, which had just been swaying its head idly, flinched and pulled back sharply.

“…Ah… sorry.”