Chapter 46
The layout of the trap was simple, but Yeonho spent nearly an hour refining the details until every variable was accounted for.
The employees stood in a rigid line, their eyes locked onto him as they committed their specific tasks to memory.
There was an eager, almost desperate edge to their focus now—the shift in power was absolute, and they knew it.
Once the final order was given, Yeonho leaned back against the cushions, his gaze sliding coolly over the group.
"Names," he lifted a finger to point directly at Jihi. The rest of the group instinctively shifted away from her, as if trying to avoid his eyes.
"I am well aware of who Jihi is. But as for the rest of you, i don't know."
The woman with dark brown hair stepped forward first, her fingers knotting tightly into the fabric of her apron.
"I'll introduce myself first, sir. My name is Hyuna"
Beside her, the employee with the short haircut—the one who had desperately tried to force the master bedroom door open during the morning's crisis—offered a quick, formal bow.
"And I am Nabi, Mr. Choi."
As they straightened up, Yeonho turned his attention toward the male staff member and the physician.
"And both of you?"
The male employee shifted his weight between his heels, an uneasy hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck before answering.
"My name is Hyunbae."
Knowing it was finally his cue, the doctor cleared his throat, adjusting the stiff collar of his shirt before stepping forward.
"I am Kim Jeungmin, Mr. Choi."
Jeungmin reached into his pocket, pulling out a crisp business card and offering it forward.
Freya stepped in smoothly, taking the card from his fingers with practiced elegance and presenting it to Yeonho.
"Now that I know all your names, I'll need your online IDs and secure contact numbers," Yeonho ordered, his voice dropping into a cool, authoritative command.
"You will exchange your information with Freya and Carl, too."
No one raised an objection. They followed his instructions immediately, the quiet tapping of phone screens filling the room as the digital links were secured.
Within a few minutes, the small crowd quietly filed out of the suite, closing the double doors behind them without a sound.
As the latch clicked into place, the detached mask melted from Yeonho's face, replaced by a slow, triumphant smile.
The exhaustion that had made his limbs feel like weak all morning suddenly vanished, replaced by a thrumming anticipation.
'I guess all that happened to me earlier is worth it'
He thought, a quiet laugh bubbling up in his chest as he looked around the empty room.
'I have my own people now.'
By the time the clock approached noon, the heavy tension in the penthouse had entirely shifted into a rhythmic, domestic routine.
Freya worked quietly in the kitchen, managing the to reheat the foods while Carl assisted her in arranging the plates across the marble counter.
When the food was served, Yeonho ate with a silent, hunger. The raw emotional breakdown from hours had stripped his body of its energy, leaving him physically worn out to the bone.
As he devoured his food, Freya hovered nearby, her hands clasped tightly over her skirt as she projected a quiet, formal concern.
"Are you feeling quite well, Mistress? Has your body recovered from the morning's strain?"
"I'm fine," Yeonho replied smoothly, setting his utensils down with a click.
He looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face.
"Did you report everything that happened to Jiseok?"
Freya hesitated, her fingers smoothing down her apron as she bowed her head respectfully.
"I have held off on sending any messages, Mistress... for the time being."
"Keep it that way," Yeonho muttered, masking his relief behind a cold expression.
He couldn't risk Jiseok finding out about his instability. If the oldman caught even a whisper of the chaos in this hotel, he wouldn't hesitate to board a private flight, drag Yeonho out of Seoul, and lock him away in Russia.
That would ruin everything.
"I'm done. You two can eat the rest."
He pushed up from his chair, but he paused instantly when his phone began to ring. He looked down at the screen. The name flashing on the glass made his chest tighten.
'Hana.'
Yeonho tapped the screen, bringing the phone to his ear as his voice instantly dropped into a polite, perfectly rehearsed drawl.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Choi. Why did you call?"
Across the kitchen, Freya and Carl immediately went rigid, pausing in the middle of clearing the dishes.
"Ms. Choi?" Carl took a quiet step toward Freya's side, whispering.
"Is that the same person who the mistress mentioned earlier?"
Nodding to Carl, Freya continued her work.
"That is her... keep your voice down."
Both of them kept working silently as Yeonho walked away from the kitchen to get some privacy.
[ We're picking the final dresses in two days. I want it all done. ]
"Yes, Ms. Choi. I'll head out to check if the designers are done."
[ Sure. I'll hang up now. ]
The line went dead.
Yeonho dropped his arm, the polite look vanishing instantly.
He moved quickly, heading to the bathroom to take a swift shower before putting on his disguise.
Before he put on his wig, Freya carefully cleaned the raw cut on his palms, wrapping it in clean bandages. He called Carl to go with him.
"Stay here, Freya. Take care of my place," Yeonho said as he adjusted his wig, looking at his reflection in the living room mirror.
"Don't worry, Mistress. I'll keep a strict lookout," Freya bowed.
"Good. Let's go, Carl."
Yeonho grabbed his bag and headed out of the hotel building with Carl, who left him at the entrance for a moment, coming back around with the car.
He got inside, and Carl drove through the busy city traffic toward the same boutique store and workshop.
When they arrived, Yeonho got out first, ordering Carl to wait in the park across the street.
The moment Yeonho walked into the boutique store, the floor staff looked up, their faces brightening instantly with a collective, frantic relief.
"Mr. Yeonho!"
"There he is! I told you he's checking today."
"Mr. Choi! Welcome!"
They exchanged rapid greetings. Yeonho smiled back at them, asking if they were done, how the pieces were looking, and throwing out a dozen questions as they walked together into the workshop at the other side of the store.
He stepped inside the creative space, finding several pretty dresses spread across the floor—others were almost done, and a few were already finished as the final pieces.
Walking down the rows of mannequins, Yeonho praised them for their talent and improvements.
"You did good over a night. We just started yesterday and all of you almost do it like perfection."
Yeonho looked carefully at everyone's work and the ones still sewing under the bright lights.
The designers and seamstresses smiled at the heartfelt compliment, the exhaustion on their faces melting away.
"It's because you helped, Mr. Yeonho."
"Yeah. If it weren't for you we couldn't think of a way to improve the dresses."
"It's kinda hard to make the reference dress of yours, Mr. Choi, but it motivated me to be consistent and competitive."
"Me too!"
"I did too! I was fired up last night and I almost forgot to sleep. I even came here earlier than ever."
Listening to their eager chatter, Yeonho laughed softly at them. They looked exactly like a class of nervous students talking to their teacher.
"I know all of you have talent. You just need to believe in your skills. It's okay to get pressure—that means you're taking it seriously. Now I'll pick the best ten pieces and choose a final five from those ten."
He looked around the entire room, then clapped his hands to get everyone's full attention.
"Okay, people! Once everyone is done, I'll need your dress on a mannequin in one line. Now continue and finish your work."
Everyone started moving at once. Yeonho gave them one hour to finish up, and after the frantic crowd settled, the floor was finally cleared, placing their dresses on mannequins in one long line.
Yeonho began his walkthrough to pick the top ten, giving each dress a very detailed, technical critique. When a dress got rejected, Yeonho gave immediate advice to them, and they simply accepted it, taking his notes as pure inspiration.
When their dress got picked, almost everyone screamed in excitement—luckily they held back, still trying to act professional.
As Yeonho got down to the final four out of the ten, the atmosphere in the room got serious.
"Your dress is perfect, has the same concept and reference, but there's still a slight difference. I'm sorry, but I'll reject this."
One of the designers nodded, stepping back with her mannequin, sad but not disappointed since Yeonho had called her own dress perfect.
Walking ahead, Yeonho stopped in front of a light, little silky dress. It looked like something a mermaid would wear. It was elegant, perfectly fitted, and had a neat, competitive design that could actually rival his own dress.
"This is outstanding. I'll choose this." Yeonho looked the dress up and down, inspecting the fabric.
The woman who made it beamed instantly, her voice rising into a scream.
"Omg! My dress got picked!" She quickly covered her mouth and bowed.
"I'm sorry for screaming, Mr. Choi." She scratched her cheek, embarrassed.
"That's fine," Yeonho smiled at her.
He walked past her mannequin to the next and final piece. After a few more minutes of careful deliberation, he chose the final five out of the ten.
Everyone seemed completely satisfied with the outcome.
Before he knew it, the clock already read 2 PM in the afternoon.
After the work was finished, Yeonho called Hana, informing her that he had picked the final five but still needed a final touchdown on the details.
He instructed the five chosen designers to make the dresses into the final pieces since they were still rough-looking, telling them he'd be back in three days with Hana.
Stepping out of the boutique, Yeonho was hit by the sun's bright, hot weather. The road was busy, packed with people walking on the sidewalks and crossing the pedestrians.
Yeonho checked his wristwatch.
"I'm done here. I should get home."
Ring—!
He looked down at his phone screen. Min-Hyuk was calling. He tapped the answer button right away.
[ Hey there, Mr. Choi Yeonho. How's your day going? Is your body holding up? Are you alright now? ]
"I'm good, but how'd you get my number?"
[ I ask Hana for it. But let's not talk about her right now... I'm in a photoshoot and my crew is a mess. Something happened. ]
"And?"
[ I need your help. I need a stylist. We're really in a tight situation right now. ]
"What if I don't want to?"
He was just playing with him. This was a massive opportunity to draw closer to Min-Hyuk, and he had no intention of passing it up.
[ You're turning down the job? ]
"Actually, I'll do it."
[ Good. I'll text you the address. Get here fast. ]
"Fine."
The call ended. More work for him, but the thought didn't irritate him at all.
Last night, he failed to sleep with Min-Hyuk, and this morning he had shown a pathetic, vulnerable side of himself.
But still, it had done something good since Min-Hyuk was showing some genuine concern now, just like Gyeongjae.
Maybe being pitied by others was a good thing, but Yeonho didn't actually want that.
He was a villain; if ever, he would use those soft emotions to manipulate the male leads just to steal them away from Hana.
"Just remembering that shitty memory pisses me off," Yeonho clicked his tongue, a wave of annoyance hitting him as he thought back to the scandal.
Not wanting to waste his time standing on the sidewalk, he made his way over to the park, showed Carl the address of the private studio, and they left in a hurry.
It only took ten minutes to arrive at the building.
Sitting in the back of the car, he looked out the window, reading the billboard sign mounted on the top of the building.
"Once we step out, you'll address me as Mr. Yeonho. Your identity is my personal assistant. Do you understand?" Yeonho kept his gaze fixed on the building.
Carl, who was holding tightly onto the steering wheel, nodded.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good."
With that, Yeonho and Carl stepped out of the car. Walking toward the main entrance, a security guard stepped forward and asked their purpose.
Yeonho told them calmly that he was the stylist Min-Hyuk had called, but they didn't buy it for a second, blocking the doorway.
"I told you. I'm a stylist, a model in this building called me."
"Nice try. Almost everyone uses the same excuse to get inside. It just happened thirty minutes ago."
The security guards laughed together, finding it hilarious that Yeonho was introducing himself as Min-Hyuk's stylist.
"So you're saying I'm a liar?"
"Sure you do. Just like the group of women who pretended they're part of the crew," one said mockingly.
"Get out before we drag you out," the other one ordered.
Yeonho scoffed in disbelief. He almost dropped the act, ready to tear into them, but he forced his muscles to relax, exhaling slowly.
"Look. I'm not lying. I got Mr. Kang's contact. If you want, I can call him right now."
But it seemed they weren't convinced at all, because they started walking closer, closing the distance between them.
"What? What are you doing? Hey!"
The security guards suddenly grabbed his arms, locking their grip tight.
"What are you doing?" Carl stepped in instantly, his large hand coming down to hold one of the guards who was gripping Yeonho's arm.
The security guards looked up at him, instantly intimidated by his huge frame and masculinity.
"Who's this now? Your boyfriend?" one of them mocked, but Carl wasn't fazed at all,
responding with absolute calmness.
"I'm his assistant. Please let go of him."
They looked Carl up and down, judging him, still not buying his words.
"Assistant? You look more like a thug than a stylist's assistant," one said.
"Enough chitchat. You need to get out, both of you," said another one.
They started dragging them toward the main entrance. Yeonho fought back fiercely as Carl walked silently beside him, since Carl didn't want to cause a massive commotion that would destroy Yeonho's disguise or hidden identity.
But Yeonho absolutely refused to get thrown out like a trash.
If he got kicked out now, Min-Hyuk would be disappointed.
Showing his professional skills to Min-Hyuk, who was an actual professional model and an S-tier at that, was the absolute best way to impress him.
And it wasn't just that; knowing that Min-Hyuk was a massive flirt and a playboy who slept around and craved physical touch, he was one of Yeonho's perfect targets to seduce.
As Yeonho struggled against their grip, his eyes caught Min-Hyuk inside the lobby, walking toward the doors. He shouted out in a great save.
"Mr. Kang! I'm here!"
Min-Hyuk walked closer, his eyes instantly tracking the guards holding onto Yeonho. Yeonho let out a quick wince, acting as if he were in deep pain.
"Ouch! You're obviously gripping tighter. Can't you loosen a little. It's hurting."
Stopping right in front of them, Min-Hyuk grabbed one of the security guard's arms with a firm grip.
"Let go. He said it hurts."
"But Mr. Kang, this one is not part of the crew or not an employee here—"
"He's my stylist. A replacement for that woman who caused all this commotion."
The security guards immediately stepped back, finally letting go of Yeonho's arms. They glanced at Yeonho with pale faces and bowed deeply.
"We apologize for being rude. I didn't know you're Mr. Kang's employee."
Yeonho widened his eyes in disbelief.
'Did this prick just say that and lie face to my face?!'
He had literally told them he was Min-Hyuk's stylist. He wanted to vent his frustration right there, but he couldn't break character.
"I told you I'm Mr. Kang's stylist but you won't believe me," Yeonho sighed heavily, keeping his head low to maintain the act as he brushed off his sleeves.
The security guards didn't say another word, keeping their heads low.
"Are you okay?" Min-Hyuk shifted his full attention to him.
"Yeah," Yeonho nodded slowly.
"We should head inside." Min-Hyuk turned on his heel, and Yeonho and Carl followed him straight toward the elevator bank.
They rode up to the seventh floor where the main studio was located.
The moment the doors slid open, Yeonho was hit by the chaotic energy of a high-fashion set.
Staff members were adjusting massive
lighting rigs, assistants hurried past holding heavy equipment, and a long rack of high-end branded clothes dominated the left wall.
In the vanity section, makeup artists worked furiously under harsh bulbs.
The whole space was alive with loud music, shouting, and running staff.
It was pure chaos. In his previous life, Yeonho had worked as a model and acted as a stylist, but those sets had always been tightly controlled and looked average.
This place was a war zone.
"Mr. Kang! You're back." A woman ran toward them, a thick stack of paperwork clutched tightly to her chest.
"I got my stylist. This is my guy for now."
Min-Hyuk gestured casually to Yeonho.
Yeonho stepped forward with practiced grace, offering his hand.
"I'm Choi Yeonho. Nice to meet you."
The woman's eyes widened in sudden, stark recognition at the infamous name, but Min-Hyuk immediately stepped into her line of sight, cutting off her thoughts.
"Don't worry about it. He's not that Choi Yeonho from the Choi Family. What's the timeline right now? Is it my turn?" Min-Hyuk looked past her shoulder toward the main stage.
Yeonho followed his gaze, watching a few models posing under the flashing strobe lights while the photographer adjusted his lens.
"Three more runs and you're next." She handed the papers to Yeonho.
"Since you're the stylist, take this. This is the concept for the photo shoot. You can see the clothes selected for Mr. Kang. Please help us find the best combination to match the theme."
Yeonho looked through the papers, scanning the text and photos of clothing with rapid efficiency before looking up with absolute assurance. Min-Hyuk stood beside him, watching his reaction closely, while Carl remained a silent shadow behind them.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure the spotlight stays entirely on Mr. Kang. How long do I have to prepare him?"
"Not much. We're on a tight schedule because of the delay. You have about..." She checked her wristwatch. "Thirty-five minutes. It's a very short window."
"That's fine. I work fast."
"Okay, I'll tell the crew that Mr. Kang is getting ready. Excuse me."
She turned and vanished into the crowd of assistants.
Yeonho turned to Min-Hyuk.
"Mr. Kang, please lead the way to your dressing room. We need to start immediately."
Without a word, Min-Hyuk led them down the narrow corridor toward the private rooms. The second the heavy door clicked shut behind them, Yeonho threw down his bag and went to work.
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