Kiyonari's chest rose and fell rapidly. The sweet, dizzying scent clung to his senses like a drug, clouding his mind. His instincts were screaming—his Alpha side begging to react, but his reason was barely holding on.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Stop it... stop it, Kiyonari...! Get a hold of yourself.
But Soo-hyun wasn't helping. The Director leaned in slightly, his voice low, teasing, dangerous.
"What's wrong? Can't handle a little scent?"
That was the last straw.
In an instant, Kiyonari's hand shot up. He shoved Soo-hyun away—hard enough that the boy stumbled a step back.
The tension in the air cracked like glass. Both of them froze.
Am I an idiot or what? He thought. Did going into rut mess with my brain too?
Kiyonari's breath was ragged, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs. He stared in disbelief at his own trembling hands.
"I-I'm sorry!" He blurted out immediately, voice shaking. "I didn't mean to—! I just instinctively..."
He bowed deeply, guilt flooding his face. "I crossed the line, sir... please forgive me."
[...]
[...]
For a moment, silence.
Then, soft laughter.
Kiyonari's head snapped up.
Soo-hyun wasn't angry. Not at all. Instead, he was smirking—lips curved in that faintly cruel, amused way that sent chills down Kiyonari's spine.
"Interesting," Soo-hyun murmured, straightening his robe. "So you can fight back when pushed."
"Sir...?"
He brushed off his sleeve, his tone casual again, almost lazy, as though nothing had happened. "You don't have to look so terrified. I'm not going to bite you."
Kiyonari swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.
Then, Soo-hyun turned away, already walking toward the window. His voice trailed over his shoulder, calm and commanding.
"Go tell Ms. Do to make my breakfast ready. You have one minute."
He grabbed on to the curtains, and pulled them to the side. As he whipped his head over his shoulder, the light shines upon him... striking the man with the view.
"... S-Sir?"
Soo-hyun didn't look back. "You heard me."
Kiyonari's mouth opened, as if to protest—but the words caught in his throat. He clenched his fists at his sides, frustation mixing with shame and confusion.
"... Understood," he finally said quietly.
He turned and hurried out the room.
From the other side of the room, Soo-hyun sat back on the couch, arms crossed, watching silently.
That faint, satisfied smirk remained on his lips.
"Let's see," he murmured to himself. "How long you'll last, Soo Kihyun."
*****
While Soo-hyun lay resting in the quiet of his room, peace was already unraveling beyond those walls.
The first headline hit the internet like a stone breaking glass: "Omega Losses Control During Association Trial—Heat Incident Causes Uproar."
Soo-hyun's phone buzzed nonstop with alerts. Within minutes, articles began multiplying across outlets, each one distorting the truth.
[Rumors suggest the Omega deliberately used his heat to manipulate the situation.]
[Two high-profile families are said to be involved—though no names are confirmed, speculation points to Je Group and Kwon Group.]
The screen glared back at him as he scrolled. His jaw clenched, his knuckles gripping the pristine sheets. Fury burned in his eyes.
"This bastard..." He muttered, venom dripping from the words.
On the screen of his laptop, an article sprawled with fabricated detail: claims that an Omega had gone into heat during the arranged mate trial, that he had lost composure, and even insinuations he had used his heat to gain the upper hand. Every line was a twisted dagger.
"It must be the Kwon Group's doing," Soo-hyun seethed, his voice low.
Of course, the Kwons would rather throw dirt onto someone else than risk their spotless name. Their heir's stupidity couldn't be hidden, so they spun it instead—painting Soo-hyun as the liability.
"Tch...!" He clicked his tongue hard, the sound sharp as glass. His brows knitted deeper. "They won't get away with this."
Without hesitation, he snatched his phone from the side table and dialed. The call connected quickly.
"Hello?" Came the voice on the other end.
"It's me." Soo-hyun's tone was razor-sharp. "Prepare a press conference. I have important details to reveal."
He leaned back, shadows playing over his face from the glow of the laptop screen. His lips curled into a thin, dangerous smirk. His eyes glinted with cold resolve.
If the Kwon family thought they could bury him with lies, they had just sparked a fire they couldn't extinguish.
This is how they want to play it... I'll give them what they want, then.
*****
Soo-hyun burst open the office door, his footsteps echoing sharply against the marble floor. The sheer weight of his fury pressed into the room like an unspoken command. Walking just a few steps behind him was Kiyonari, his face tight with worry, carrying a folder hugged to his chest.
"Is there an update from them?" Soo-hyun asked, his voice clipped and biting.
"I already contacted the Association," Kiyonari replied quickly, adjusting his grip on the folder. "They said they will investigate further."
"Bullshit!" Soo-hyun snapped, slamming his palm against his desk. His brows furrowed in a storm of anger. "There's no way they will. Not when the Kwon group's paying them a ton of money not to do anything—let alone investigate."
The air grew heavy, but Kiyonari didn't flinch this time. He drew a steady breath. "But we did have the press conference ready, sir. Even if they delayed the investigation, if we make an advance announcement to the public with careful consideration with things, then they would surely be pressured to withdraw from the deal and take things seriously."
Soo-hyun's sharp eyes cut toward him. The Omega's gaze was cold, but beneath that icy layer flickered something unreadable, an interest.
"But it seems to me proceeding with this press and nothing else would be a waste."
"Do you have something on your mind, Mr. Soo?"
Kiyonari's straightened his posture as he found his voice. "I know that you plan to use Ms. Song against Mr. Kwon. But... in my opinion, that would only open another issue and they might simply dismiss her case—including you, sir. Some might consider your action desperate, or even accuse you of making up stories to frame Mr. Kwon."
Soo-hyun leaned back against his chair, lips pressed thin. He drummed his fingers against the armrest, studying Kiyonari in silence. The weight of those cold eyes almost made Kiyonari stumble on his next words, but he forced himself to continue.
"We must consider carefully before we take action," Kiyonari added.
"Then what exactly are you suggesting?" Soo-hyun asked at last, his tone testing.
Kiyonari clenched his fists against his sides, forcing himself not to lower his gaze. "I think it will be good if we involve some witnesses and testimonials from his other victims."
The silence in the room thickened. Soo-hyun's eyes widened ever so slightly, his still mask cracking with intrigue.
"... Other victims? How do you know that he has other victims?"
Kiyonari's shoulders stiffened. He tightened his grip. "I spoke with Ms. Song the other day. I thought she would refuse right after what had happened... but she agreed."
He continued, "she told me that there are others—who were assaulted many times by Mr. Kwon. They all ended up leaving after they were paid to stay quiet."
Soo-hyun narrowed his eyes, watching the young man in front of him. For the first time, Kiyonari's voice carried a fire of conviction.
"... Interesting," Soo-hyun muttered, almost to himself. Then, with the faintest curve of his lips, he leaned forward. "She might just be more useful than I thought."
Kiyonari exhaled slowly, feeling the tension loosen in his chest.
[Days before]
The air inside the café was dim, the kind of quiet place where voices sank into the walls instead of carrying. Kiyonari sat stiffly on one side of the table, his coffee untouched, his eyes fixed on the woman across from him.
Mina looked different outside of the office—no sleek bun, no neat blouse. She wore a simple cardigan, her hair loose around her shoulders, and her face seemed paler than usual.
She fidgeted with the rim of her cup before finally speaking. "When you asked me to meet up... I wasn't sure if I should show up."
"I understand," Kiyonari said softly. "Thank you for coming today despite of what happened."
Mina smiled faintly but more bitterly.
"But you must have seen the recent articles that came out. We both know it's all lies. I need the truth, Ms. Song. Director Je is risking his position for this. If we're going to stand against Mr. Kwon, we need more than one account. And that's why we need your help."
Her lips trembled faintly as she pressed them together. "... You really think someone would listen to me? To a Beta woman who's nothing more than a secretary? They'll just say I was desperate to gain favor with an Alpha."
Kiyonari leaned forward, his tone firm. "That's exactly why your voice matters. You know the inside, and you've seen it firsthand. If you stay silent, more people will be hurt the same way."
Her fingers stilled. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. For a long moment, her walls seemed to crumble. "In that case..."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small folder, sliding it across the table. Kiyonari blinked and took it carefully.
"What's this?"
"Records," she whispered. "The others gave me all their evidence. They were too afraid leaving it to just anybody. So, they gave me all to me and I compiled it just in case."
[!!]
"Most of them were Beta women and Omega males he secretly took to the Grand Hotel. I know at least a few of them who—" she swallowed, her voice breaking, "who were paid to disappear quietly."
Kiyonari's jaw tightened. His hand curled over the folder, almost crushing the edges. "And no one ever questioned or reported it to the authorities?"
"Who would dare?" Mina laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Everyone knew the Kwon group has many connection including the Association and with the police. No one wanted to ruin their careers by crossing Jisung. Even I... I stayed. Do you wanna know why?"
Her voice dropped to a confession, fragile and trembling. "Because I thought if I endured, if I stayed loyal, and obedient to him... maybe—just maybe, he'd noticed me."
"But I was so stupid," she faintly scoffed.
"I really thought he'd take me seriously if I behave like he wanted me to. And now this is where it got me... his words were nothing but empty promises."
She clenched her fists, but her face wore a painful expression.
Kiyonari's breath caught. He hadn't expected that. He lowered his gaze briefly, giving her the dignity of not meeting her eyes in such a vulnerable moment.
Mina composed herself quickly, straightening in her seat. "I don't care about what happens after. I just want this to end. I just want to start anew with my baby." She gently rubbed her hand on top of her belly.
"If Director Je is serious about exposing him, then... I'll testify. I'll tell them everything."
Kiyonari nodded firmly, his grip tightening on the folder. "You've made the right choice. I promise you, Ms. Song, this won't be wasted."
She gave him a faint smile, though her eyes were clouded with both fear and relief. "I hope so, Mr. Soo."
*****
The next day, reporters and cameras packed the Je Group's grand conference hall. Flashes went off the second Soo-hyun appeared, dressed in a sharp, dark suit that carried both elegance and dominance. His expression was calm, but his eyes were cold and merciless.
He stood behind the podium. The murmurs quieted.
"First of all," Soo-hyun began, his voice steady but firm, "I would like to address the false reports spreading since yesterday. Certain outlets have published articles suggesting that I, an Omega, went into heat during a trial arranged by the Association, and I planned it all to seduce an Alpha. That claim is nothing but a fabrication."
The reporters leaned forward, pens scratching.
He continued, sharper, "The truth is this: the heir of the Kwon family, was the one that violated Association rules by forcibly releasing his pheromones against me in a private suite. This was not an accident. He intentionally did it, as he even tried to drug me. And when he was exposed, instead of accountability, his family spread rumors to defame me."
The hall buzzed with shock, but Soo-hyun wasn't done.
"I could have left it there," he said, his lips curling faintly, "but this matter is bigger than just me. The Association deserves to know the truth about Kwon Jisung's conduct as a prospective mate. And so does the public."
"Many of his victims came forward after what happened. They all seek justice for what Mr. Kwon has done to them."
A ripple of gasps filled the room, as though theybhave figured out what Soo-hyun meant. Reporters whispered furiously, some typing faster than their hands could keep up.
"An Alpha who cannot take responsibility for the lives he creates has no right to call himself a true Alpha. The Je family will not accept such an individual as my prospective mate, nor should the Association. The trial," Soo-hyun's gaze cut through the crowd like a blade, "is over."
Flashes exploded, the press erupting into chaos—questions shouted all at once.
But Soo-hyun didn't linger. He turned on his heel, and walked off the stage with the same cold authority he entered with.
*****
By morning the internet had exploded. Headlines screamed across feeds: "Je Soo-hyun Exposes Kwon Heir—Alpha's Misconduct Revealed."
Reporters circled AO Enterprises like vultures; camera lights blinked in the glass atrium, and journalists shouted over each other outside the building, demanding statements.
In his corner office, high above the city, Jisung watched the chaos on the three different screens. Each new article felt like a fresh cut. He ripped the paper in his hand between two fingers until it was ragged strip, he grabbed the ipad with the live video of Soo-hyun's recent press. And then flung it aside. The office, once pristine and ordered, began to shudder under the force of his temper.
"What the fuck is this?" He hissed, voice low and dangerous. He shoved a pen across his desk; it skittered and clattered onto the floor. The gallery of framed awards on the wall suddenly seemed like mockery. His fists curled so tight his knuckles went white.
Not only had the public turned on him—the Association had moved fast. Within hours they'd issued a provisional disqualification and opened a formal inquiry into his misconduct and associated allegations. The board had pulled their endorsements, investors were calling, and every whisper felt like a verdict.
Jisung's face contorted. "That fucking Omega... Je Soo-hyun," he spat, each word a stone. "You think you can bring me down that easily."
He swung around to the young man standing nervously by the door—his new secretary—as if the answer might be manufactured by force. "Why hasn't he done anything? Where is my father? Why is he letting this slide?"
The secretary flinched at the raw venom in Jisung's tone. "I... I contacted Mr. Kwon's office, sir. I tried calling the President's secretary, but—" he swallowed. "He says Mr. Kwon sent a message."
Jisung barked out a laugh, ugly and short. "He sent a message? What the hell did that old man say? He's giving me an order now?" He strode across the office, shoes clacking on the marble floor.
The secretary swallowed and fumbled for his phone. "He said to clean up your own mess, sir." His voice was small, apologetic.
The words landed like a blow. For a moment Jisung simply stared, incredulous; then something in him snapped. The office erupted—folders tossed, a desk nameplate hurled to the carpet, glass chiming as it shattered into tiny, glittering crescents. He shoved his chair back so hard it toppled. A coffee mug came flying; it cracked against a credenza and spilled across documents, dark and slow.
"He doesn't want to be responsible for me?" Jisung roared, more to himself than anyone. "My own father sits in his ivory tower and tells me to clean up this mess? After all I've done for this family? For this company?!" His chest heaved; veins stood out at his neck.
The secretary tried to speak up, but Jisung cut him off with a look so cold it froze the air. "Fine. I don't need him either... useless old man." He stalked to the window and slammed the blinds shut; the city beyond went dark at his gesture.
He pivoted, eyes blazing. "I'll fix this myself. I'll make them pay and make them regret that they ever thought to humiliate me." His lips curled into something like a promise—not to save face, but to destroy what stood in his way.
Pieces of the office lay strewn around him: a casualty or rage. For a heartbeat he looked small and furious and utterly alone.
Then, more quietly, to no one in particular, he said, "Find him. I want him in front of my door step by tomorrow, understand?" His voice was cold and precise again.
"Yes, sir!"
The secretary nodded and hurried away.
When the door clicked shut, Jisung stood alone among the ruin kf his office. He breathed in, slow and steady, shutting off the ragged edges of fury and sharpening into resolve. He would not go down without a war.