Chapter 55 - DEVILS SERVICE
Thirty minutes later, Yeonho was nearly finished with his meal.
Seungjo and Min-hyuk had put their utensils down fifteen minutes prior, sitting back in their seats to watch Yeonho eat with the unbridled appetite of a hungry wildcat.
"For someone with a frame like yours, you sure eat a lot," Min-hyuk remarked with a smirk. He rested his chin against his palm, idly swirling a glass of champagne with his other hand.
Yeonho chewed thoroughly, swallowed, and took a long sip of water before glaring back.
"What? Do you expect me to survive on bread and water?"
"No," Min-hyuk replied, his tone laced with easy provocation despite the servants standing nearby. "I just assumed you were picky."
Yeonho rolled his eyes, picked up his fork, and went right back to his plate.
"I'm not picky," he mumbled around a piece of chicken.
Ignoring their gazes, Yeonho ate for another few minutes until he was completely full.
Seungjo stood up from the table, excusing himself on account of pressing business matters.
Yeonho immediately called out to stop him.
"You said we were going to discuss work."
"Later tonight or tomorrow," Seungjo answered cold-faced, turning and walking away without another word.
Every servant in the dining hall bowed deeply as Seungjo passed. The moment his figure vanished down the corridor, the staff moved in unison to clear the table.
An assigned maid approached Yeonho, bowing respectfully before gesturing toward the central staircase. She guided him to the second floor where he would be staying for the night.
Min-hyuk was escorted shortly after, assigned to a completely separate wing far down the hall.
Stopping outside a heavy wooden door, the maid pushed it open and stepped aside.
"This will be your room, Ms…. I mean, Mr….?"
She hesitated, looking up shyly as she waited for clarification.
"Mr. Choi," Yeonho stated, stepping into the room first.
The maid blinked, her eyes dropping to the floor in quiet confusion.
"Mr. Choi? From the Choi family?" she mused silently to herself before closing the door.
She smoothed down the bedsheets, then walked over to check the closet.
Yeonho sat on the edge of the mattress, sweeping his eyes over the spacious interior.
"I need some loose shirts or pajamas. Something oversized."
"Pardon?" The maid paused, turning around.
"You heard me. I need something loose. Wait— actually forget that, bring me one of Seungjo's shirts. Go on."
The maid bowed her head, maintaining her composure against the bizarre request.
"I apologize, Mr. Choi, but I cannot do that. We servants do not have the authority to—"
She cut herself off mid-sentence as Yeonho stood up, walking straight for the door.
"Where are you—"
"Either you get it for me, or I find your boss myself and complain you're refusing a guest's reasonable request. You think you'll keep your job if he thinks you're treating his guests badly?," Yeonho declared, raising an eyebrow with unshakeable confidence.
"I... If i..." She tried to form a word but Yeonho spoke fast.
"Do you really want to risk getting fired over a shirt?"
The maid hovered in place, skeptical at first, but the threat of losing her job eventually won out.
"I'm sorry, I'll go get it..."
Three minutes later, she returned carrying one of the plain white casual shirts Seungjo frequently wore around the estate.
A wide grin spread across Yeonho's face as he took the fabric into his hands. He instructed the maid to loosen the laces on his corset before dismissing her.
"I'm going to take a shower now. You can leave."
The maid bowed silently and withdrew.
The moment the lock clicked shut, Yeonho marched over to the full-length mirror by the wardrobe. His makeup remained untouched, his outfit still sitting immaculately against his skin.
He stripped down completely, standing bare before his reflection.
'Shower first then explore this place...'
Heading into the adjoining bathroom, Yeonho brushed his teeth then took a long, hot thirty-minute shower—scrubbing every inch of his skin, prepping slow, just in case Min-Hyuk decided to follow through on their plans for later that night.
He wanted to be ready and prepared.
When he stepped out, he dressed strictly in Seungjo's oversized white shirt and a pair of simple shorts from the drawer.
He checked the mirror once more. His makeup was entirely washed away, leaving his skin clean and bare, while his damp hair fell loosely over his shoulders.
The shirt hung loose off his frame—sleeves bunching past his wrists, hem hitting mid-thigh, the collar slipping off one pale shoulder.
"Looks like a proper boyfriend shirt," Yeonho murmured to himself, flashing a smug grin at his reflection.
"Which means I look great."
His discarded outfit lay piled across the bed, completely forgotten. He pulled out several skincare products from his bag—maintaining his strict evening routine without exception—before grabbing his phone off the nightstand.
"Let's go."
Like this, he could sneak around the house comfortably.
He stepped out into the hallway.
The corridor was completely deserted.
No servants lingering in doorways. No guards patrolling the corners.
Just quiet, warm light spilling from sconces, and the faint hum of the AC running through the vents.
The long hall remained brightly lit despite the late hour.
Yeonho navigated the second floor, assuming it would take considerable effort to locate Seungjo's private quarters or home office.
After a few wrong turns, he came across a secluded wing.
At the very end of a long, narrow hallway, set far apart from every other door, stood a single heavy oak door. Two armed security guards flanked it, rigid as statues.
'He's in there…'
Right as Yeonho anticipated, the door swung open. Seungjo stepped out into the hall with a phone pressed to his ear, the two guards falling into step right behind him.
"Yes, there will be changes…" Seungjo's voice echoed down the corridor as he walked directly toward Yeonho's position.
Panicking, Yeonho ducked into the nearest unlit room he could find, carefully pulling the door shut until only a sliver of space remained.
He watched through the crack as Seungjo walked past, letting out a quiet breath once the footsteps faded away.
Turning around, Yeonho realized the space was completely empty save for a long sofa and a massive floor-to-ceiling window—an unused storage room.
Ignoring the vacant furniture, he cracked the door open again, only to lock eyes with the same maid from earlier, carrying a stack of fresh towels.
He held a finger to his lips. "Shh… Not a word, or I'm reporting you."
The maid nodded frantically, hurrying past as if she had seen nothing.
'Poor girl… My bad.'
Once the coast was clear, Yeonho walked out and headed straight for the room Seungjo had just vacated. The guards were gone, presumably following Seungjo wherever he'd gone.
He wrapped one hand around the cold brass doorknob and pushed it open slow.
He tested the handle—it gave way instantly.
It wasn't locked.
Seungjo was clearly too arrogant, so convinced Yeonho would sit obediently in his room and behave like a good little guest that he hadn't even bothered with a lock.
Inside, The room was lit warm and bright by a crystal chandelier overhead.
A massive wooden desk dominated the space, set up with an expensive computer rig, neatly stacked document trays, and pen holders along the edge. Clipped to a standing board nearby were various model portfolios and magazine drafts.
It was clearly Seungjo's private office.
Yeonho rounded the desk slow, careful not to shift any papers too obviously, and started rifling through the drawers one by one.
Top left: old contracts. Middle: stationery, spare chargers. Bottom right: tax files, property deeds.
Down on the bottom left, tucked far behind a thick stack of corporate filings, his fingers brushed against a black leather folder, its spine embossed with a tiny silver star.
He pulled it out and flipped it open.
"Starry Night Club…" Yeonho read aloud softly, scanning the first few pages.
'No way… He owns this place?'
Starry Night Club was a central location in the original novel's narrative—the exact venue where Seungjo's obsessive ex-girlfriend set a trap for Hana, ambushing her in the VIP section.
That incident was designed to bring Seungjo to Hana's rescue, solidifying their bond right after Hana's birthday.
The ex-girlfriend had snuck into the birthday event uninvited, driven mad with jealousy after watching Seungjo show up for Hana, so she lured Hana to the club shortly after next few days.
'This changes everything. I can use this.'
He spent two minutes taking rapid photos of the documents with his phone, mapping out his next move, when the sound of approaching voices shattered the silence outside.
'Shit…'
He stuffed the folder down the back of his shirt, tucking the hem of Seungjo's oversized top tight into his waistband so it pressed flat against his skin—no lumps, no slips.
It was hidden perfectly—but he was already out of time to find a better spot to hide when the door swung open.
The heavy footfalls crossed the threshold. Seungjo was back, and he wasn't alone.
Judging by the crisp, formal tone of the voices surrounding him, he had brought several high-level executives with him.
"I want the contract adjustments finalized immediately. That individual is joining our roster," Seungjo announced, pulling his desk chair back to sit down.
His movement froze the moment his eyes dropped beneath the desk.
Yeonho was curled up under the wooden frame, sitting quietly on his knees like a child caught stealing sweets. He offered a sheepish smile, slowly raising two fingers in a weak peace sign. He was so screwed.
"H-Hi… Hehe," Yeonho whispered, hunching smaller into the dark space.
Yeonho braced himself to be dragged out by his collar and thrown out of the office or even kicked out the villa entirely.
But the reaction never came.
Seungjo simply stared at him for a cold second, then looked away. He opened his laptop across the desk surface, casually addressing the three executives standing in the center of the office.
'What the… He's ignoring me?'
Then the realization struck him. Seungjo couldn't drag him out.
If Seungjo pulled a half-naked young man out from under his desk in front of his corporate board, the resulting scandal would obliterate his professional reputation.
No matter how much authority Seungjo wielded, he couldn't afford that kind of embarrassment and humiliation.
'Isn't this perfect... Hahaha'
A wicked idea formed in Yeonho's mind.
Seungjo had no choice but to put up with him, whether he liked it or not.
As the executives launched into a discussion regarding quarterly projections, Yeonho crawled forward until his hands rested firmly against Seungjo's knee.
He looked up, flashing a deliberate grin, and tapped Seungjo's thigh to force his attention downward.
Seungjo attempted to ignore the touch, but his jaw clenched as Yeonho's fingers moved deliberately toward the metal zipper of his trousers.
"Regarding the brand campaign, Chairman Baek, we believe the management team acted too hastily," one executive stated, completely unaware. "We gave them our top talent. We can't accept these sudden restructuring terms."
Under the desk, Seungjo's hand shot down, clamping firmly around Yeonho's wrist.
He leaned down slightly, his breathing warm against Yeonho's face.
"What do you think you're doing?" Seungjo hissed under his breath, trying to force Yeonho's hand away.
Yeonho merely giggled, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Just providing a service, sir. Since you accepted me into your company, I'm just showing proper gratitude to Chairman Baek."
"Stop talking nonsense and sit still, or you will regret this—"
"Chairman…? Is something wrong? Where did you go?" the executive asked, pausing mid-sentence, confused by the long stretch of silence.
Both Yeonho and Seungjo froze.
"Stop this right now, or I will drag you out myself," Seungjo whispered, his voice dangerously low.
"You won't," Yeonho whispered back effortlessly. "You'd humiliate yourself in front of your own staff, Chairman Baek."
"You little…"
Yeonho leaned up, brushing his lips past Seungjo's left earlobe.
"Just sit back and enjoy it, Mr. Chairman."
To emphasize his point, Yeonho intentionally bumped his elbow against the thick wooden underside of the desk, creating a loud, echoing thud.
Seungjo glared down at him with dark promise, releasing Yeonho's wrist, straightening his spine as he leaned back into his leather chair.
"What was that noise?" the executive inquired.
"My pen dropped. Continue," Seungjo lied smoothly, pulling a leather file folder forward before reaching for his reading glasses.
The moment Seungjo slid the thin-framed glasses over his nose, Yeonho's self-restraint vanished entirely.
He looked unfairly good like that—the soft cream knit sweater, the messy hair falling over his forehead, the glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, all serious and focused and sharp.
The sharp, intellectual look suited Seungjo far too well to the point Yeonho wanted to jumped on him.
Moving with practiced efficiency, Yeonho reached up and slid Seungjo's zipper down before he could even react.
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