The next morning, the Jung's mansion buzzed with frantic energy. Servants darted through the halls carrying trays of porcelain dishes and vases of fresh-cut lilies.
My mother had called it a "casual breakfast," which was her way of saying half the elite of Seoul will be breathing down your neck, so behave for once.
Behave. As if that word had ever applied to me.
I walked into the sunlit dining hall, red hair still damp from my shower, only to see him already there — Kang Woo-jin. Sitting perfectly straight at the far end of the table like he owned the room. His pastel pink hair caught the morning light, and his turquoise eyes glittered with that infuriating innocence. He was chatting with my mother, pouring tea as if he'd been born to play house.
"Good morning, Dae-hyun," my mother said, voice honey-sweet but lined with steel. "You're late."
"I wasn't aware I agreed to host a circus," I muttered, pulling out a chair and dropping into it like I was about to be interrogated.
"Seriously Dae-hyun, it's far from funny." My mother replied.
"Save me from this hellhole." I said casually.
Woo-jin only smiled at me, soft as spun sugar. "I saved you a seat. I hope you like green tea?"
I gave him a glare sharp enough to slice porcelain. "I rather not be manipulated before breakfast."
His smile didn't falter — but there was a glimmer in his turquoise eyes, a spark that said he'd heard the warning and found it amusing. "What makes you say that dear?"
Did he just bloody call me dear. Disgusting.
Before I could push further, the doors opened. Three members of the Kang family's inner circle, plus two distant Jung relatives — all dressed to kill, all notorious for whispering gossip to anyone with a camera.
Perfect.
As the polite greetings began, Woo-jin leaned slightly toward me, voice so soft only I could hear. "Try not to embarrass yourself. It won't look good on camera."
Camera? My eyes flicked upward, and there it was — a slim recording drone tucked neatly in the corner of the room. My mother's idea, no doubt. Or was this his? Reputation is what they all care about. They never care for me. It's not fair.
The meal began with strained small talk. My mother gushed about the merger this marriage would seal. Mrs. Kang complimented the estate gardens. I stayed silent, stabbing my food as though it had personally offended me. Woo-jin, on the other hand, played the perfect gentleman — charming, delicate, every word dipped in honey.
When Mrs. Kang praised him for "adjusting so quickly to family obligations," he blushed faintly, lowering his eyes in practiced humility. I could practically hear the women at the table melting.
I decided to wipe that fake blush off his face.
"So, Woo-jin," I said loudly, cutting through the polite laughter. "How does it feel, marrying someone who hates omegas?"
The clatter of utensils filled the room. Even the servants froze. My mother's glare could have burned a hole straight through me.
Woo-jin, however, didn't so much as flinch. He set his teacup down with a calm, measured motion, still smiling like I'd complimented him. "Oh, I don't mind," he said softly, meeting my eyes. "Hate usually comes from misunderstanding. And misunderstandings…" His turquoise gaze didn't waver. "…can be corrected." I noticed a hint of sadness in his eyes. Why the hell I'm caring all of a sudden. Damn Jung Dae-hyun, all omegas are the same.
A ripple of polite laughter passed through the guests, charmed by his composure. My mother even smiled proudly at him, as though he'd just solved world hunger with good manners.
I clenched my fists under the table so tightly my nails bit into my palms.
Then it happened. Just for a moment, a faint pulse of dominant omega pheromones drifted across the table. It wasn't strong enough for anyone to identify — just enough to make the air heavy, to make alphas instinctively uneasy. Mrs. Kang shifted in her chair. One of my distant cousins frowned, as if suddenly warm. And all the while Woo-jin kept speaking sweetly, praising the chef's cooking, complimenting the lily arrangements.
It was subtle. Controlled. Dangerous.
When breakfast finally ended, Woo-jin excused himself to "get some air." I followed. My mother shot me a warning glance but said nothing, probably relieved I wasn't exploding at the table.
I caught him in the west hallway, near the terrace doors. He was waiting — no, lingering, as if he knew I'd come.
"Drop the act," I snapped, stepping into his path. "You think I don't see what you're doing?"
Woo-jin tilted his head, lips curling into that same gentle smile. "What am I doing, Dae-hyun? Being polite?"
"You're playing everyone," I growled. "But I'm not falling for it."
For the first time, his expression shifted. Just slightly. The sweetness drained from his eyes, leaving a cold, steady gleam. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek.
"Good," he whispered. "I hate easy games."
The pheromones hit again, sharper this time — precise, controlled, wrapping around me like velvet chains. Not overwhelming, but firm enough to make my pulse spike. My instincts screamed to push back, to assert myself, but I locked my jaw and stood my ground.
"You're not fragile," I said tightly.
"No," Woo-jin murmured, reaching up to dust an invisible speck from my jacket. The motion was intimate, almost affectionate — but his eyes stayed ice cold. "And you're not as heartless as you pretend."
"Don't test me."
He smiled again, warm and harmless, like the mask had slipped back into place. "I'm not testing you, fiancé. I'm just getting to know you."
"Stay out of my way."
"I can't," he said simply, voice soft as silk. "I'm your future."
That infuriating calmness — no anger, no fear. Just certainty.
As he stepped back, the pheromones vanished as though they'd never been there. He bowed slightly, all charm once more. "See you at dinner, Dae-hyun. I'll bring dessert next time."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, fists trembling, fury boiling in my veins.
If he thought I'd let him win, he was wrong. I didn't know how yet, but I'd find out who Kang Woo-jin really was — and tear that pastel mask off piece by piece.
Later on.
After dinner, I retreated to the sitting room, still seething. Of course, Woo-jin had charmed everyone again. Even my little cousin, who hates strangers, had followed him around like a puppy.
I didn't hear my mother come in until her hand rested on my shoulder.
"Why are you sulking? He's a lovely boy."
"Lovely? He's fake," I muttered, shaking her hand off. "Don't you see it? He's acting."
My mother sighed, the kind of sigh that meant she'd decided I was being dramatic.
"Dae-hyun, not everything is a conspiracy. Woo-jin is polite, respectful — everything I wish you'd be when we have guests."
I clenched my fists. "I'm not going to sign the marriage contract with him, Mom. You can stop dreaming about some perfect future son-in-law. I'm not interested."
Her gaze hardened. "It's not always about interest. Sometimes it's about family."
I shot to my feet. "So you just want me to marry him to make Dad happy? To make you happy?!"
"Dae-hyun," she said sharply, her voice low so the staff wouldn't overhear. "It's not a prison sentence. If you dislike him that much, stay married a few months, then divorce quietly. But at least do your duty. Do you understand me?"
Her words hit like cold water. A few months. Then I'd be free. It was manipulative, sure — but also strangely reasonable.
I hesitated, and that was all she needed.
"You don't have to love him," she said, softer now. "Just don't embarrass us. Don't embarrass yourself."
I hated how convincing she sounded.
As I left the sitting room, I caught movement at the end of the hall. Woo-jin stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he'd been waiting — or listening.
Our eyes met. His expression was unreadable, but there was the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth, like he already knew he'd won. But again, I could sense sadness….but why…?
"Everything alright?" he asked, voice dripping with polite concern.
"Mind your own business," I snapped, brushing past him. But my anger felt hollow now, tangled up with unease.
Because for the first time, I wasn't sure if this was a fight I could actually win.
"Why should I?" He came closer to me. "You are my alpha now."
I spun around, heat rising to my face. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Woo-jin tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Isn't that what your family wants? For you to lead. For me to follow. I'm just being… obedient."
The way he said it — like a joke, like he was mocking me — made my stomach twist.
"Stop acting like you know me," I snapped. "You're just here to play the perfect guest, remember? So stay in your lane."
He stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel his breath.
"Careful," he murmured. "People might think we're already close."
Disgust burned through me, sharp and sour. I shoved him back, harder than I meant to.
"Stay away from me," I hissed.
But Woo-jin only straightened his jacket like nothing happened, eyes glittering with amusement.
"Of course, Dae-hyun," he said smoothly, bowing his head just slightly — but the way he said my name felt wrong, like a taunt. "I'm only here to make you happy."
I stormed off before I did something I'd regret, but even in my room with the door locked, his words clung to me like smoke.
You're my alpha now.
What the hell did that even mean? I know we are going to get married but what now.