Chapter 61
While Yeonho and Min-hyuk spent nearly thirty minutes getting carried away in the steamy bathroom, a team of servants entered the bedroom under the direction of the villa's head maid. In their arms were garment bags and racks holding a curated selection of high-end fashion.
They all froze the instant their shoes hit the hardwood. The room was an absolute disaster—tangled, sweat-stained sheets, discarded latex wrappers, shattered skincare jars from the vanity, and a heavy scent of intimacy hanging thick in the air.
Yet, bound by Seungjo's strict orders to ensure Yeonho was presented with the wardrobe, they swallowed their shock and moved quickly. In less than ten minutes, they restored order to the room, sweeping up broken glass and smoothing the mattress.
Just as they finished, the bathroom door clicked open. Yeonho and Min-hyuk stepped out side by side, clad only in plush white bathrobes.
The servants stiffened. Three distinct thoughts flickered across their faces: first, recognizing Yeonho now that the heavy, dramatic makeup was gone; second, wondering why Min-hyuk was in this specific wing; and third, processing the fact that both men had just spent the last forty minutes in the same bathroom.
Unbothered by their wide-eyed stares, Yeonho walked over to the clothing rack, inspecting the line of designer labels hanging beneath clear protective covers.
"What's this?" Yeonho asked, gesturing toward the clothes as he looked at the maid he had spoken to the night before. "Why are there so many?"
The maid bowed respectfully. "Master had ordered these for you, Mr. Choi. They are a gift from him, and he instructed us to assist you in getting ready."
"Get ready?" Yeonho repeated.
"Yes," the maid nodded. "He is waiting for you in the dining hall. He requested that you join him for breakfast while you discuss an important matter."
'Giving me these after slapping me last night, tsk.'
Yeonho let out a dry scoff, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Asshole…"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing," Yeonho waved a hand dismissively. "Help me get dressed before your master loses his temper waiting."
The maid nodded and motioned for her colleagues to step forward. Working in synchronized silence, they began styling him. They blow-dried his damp blonde hair, applied a rich moisturizer from the vanity, and carefully selected an outfit.
The process felt less like getting dressed for breakfast and more like being prepared for a royal debut.
Meanwhile, downstairs at the front gates, Min-hyuk's personal manager arrived in a rush. Having mentioned Min-hyuk's name to the gate guards, he was escorted inside immediately. He delivered a garment bag containing a fresh suit to Min-hyuk, who changed quickly in a side room before heading down to the main dining hall.
Twenty minutes later, the servants stepped back.
The result was striking. Yeonho was dressed in a soft, elegant ensemble: a cream-colored knitted long-sleeve top with a wide, drooping neckline that exposed the sharp line of his collarbone, neatly tucked into tailored, relaxed-fit trousers.
His blonde hair was gathered into a messy high bun, leaving delicate strands framing the sides of his pale face.
Subtle, shimmering drop earrings hung from his ears, and a thin coat of lip gloss gave his mouth a soft, natural shine.
The servants stood along the wall, secretly admiring his reflection. While they had always considered Hana beautiful, seeing Yeonho in person—without the lens of news broadcasts or social media—was a completely different experience. His beauty was sharper, colder, and far more captivating.
"Let's go," Yeonho said, gathering his personal belongings. He made sure Seungjo's confidential file was tucked securely inside the inner lining before zipping it shut.
The staff bowed as he passed, opening the double doors for him. Yeonho made his way down the grand staircase and down the wide corridor leading to the dining wing.
Inside, Seungjo and Min-hyuk were already seated at the long mahogany table, speaking in low, muted tones over coffee.
Yeonho pulled out a chair a few feet down, keeping a comfortable distance between them.
"About last night…" Seungjo began, his voice flat.
Yeonho immediately held up a single finger, signaling him to stop. Seungjo's jaw tightened, but he went quiet.
"Look here," Yeonho said smoothly, buttering a slice of toasted bread. "Whatever happened last night, forget it. Let's keep our focus strictly on work. I'll even forgot the fact that you slapped me in the face."
Seungjo's coffee cup hovered an inch above the saucer. "I am talking about the contract and that video."
"And?" Yeonho raised an eyebrow, taking a small bite of his toast.
"I know you didn't—"
"Delete it?" Yeonho interrupted, chewing slowly. "You're right. I didn't."
Seungjo's gaze turned icy, but Yeonho didn't flinch. He met the cold glare head-on, taking a slow sip of his black coffee before setting the porcelain cup down and dabbing his lips with a linen napkin.
"I'm not deleting a damn thing. It stays on my phone as a souvenir," Yeonho declared calmly. "I signed your contract, even though it's heavily stacked in your favor. From here on out, it's purely professional. You don't need to worry about me leaking anything about you—so long as you don't step out of line. Do something I don't like, and I will drag you down with me."
Yeonho rested his chin in his hand, a faint smirk forming his lips as he tilted his head. "By the way… how's the club doing these days?"
Seungjo's jaw tightened, his fingers clamping around the ceramic handle of his cup.Surprise flickered in his eyes.
Yeonho knew about his underground establishment—a high-society sanctuary where high-ranking officials, top-tier actors, corporate executives, and international figures with dangerous backgrounds gathered behind closed doors. Access was strictly restricted to normal people,only those with extreme power, deep connections, or personal VIP sponsorships from Seungjo himself can enter or know about the club.
Seungjo let out a slow, deliberate breath, steadying his posture. He had assumed Yeonho slipped into his private office last night merely to cause trouble, but it was clear now that Yeonho had been hunting for something he could use against him all along.
"If you want to play this game, fine," Seungjo said quietly, getting up from his seat and walking over to Yeonho's side of the table.
"Consider this a warning: if you get any clever ideas, I will ruin your life. I have the power to make you disappear entirely if I choose to. The only reason I am holding back right now is because of our contract."
"Is that so?" Yeonho looked up at him, unbothered.
Seungjo reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a heavy matte-black box, and set it on the table beside Yeonho's plate. "Open it."
Yeonho untied the satin ribbon and lifted the lid. Rested inside was a custom timepiece—a heavy matte-black wristwatch with a sleek, borderless face and a custom leather band.
He lifted it out by the strap, turning it over under the dining light.
"That's cute of you, Seungjo" Yeonho chuckled softly. "Giving me an expensive gift as an apology already? You really shouldn't have. A simple 'sorry' would have done the trick, but I accept."
The arrogance was staggering. Seungjo exercised immense restraint to keep his temper in check.
The slap from last night had been an instinctual reaction—Seungjo never kissed anyone he didn't care for, and having Yeonho force his tongue into his mouth had crossed a boundary.
Kiss is only meant for someone he loves.
"Aren't you sweet, hahaha." Yeonho said.
Seungjo kept his expression completely neutral, ignoring the comment entirely as he began detailing the watch's functions.
Yeonho's smirk faded into a flat glare the moment he caught on.
It was a tracker. The internal chip maintained a real-time GPS feed synced directly to Seungjo's personal device, complete with an integrated microphone, audio logger, and biometrics monitor that logged pulse spikes and stress indicators.
In short, Seungjo was placing him under 24/7 surveillance, regardless of distance. Every piece of telemetry would stream directly to an app on Seungjo's private phone.
"Wear it, and don't take it off," Seungjo commanded. "I will be keeping a close eye on you."
"Now that's creepy," Yeonho smirked, strapping the leather band onto his wrist. "What are you, a professional stalker? First the hidden camera in my room, now this?"
Seungjo turned on his heel, heading toward the main exit before Yeonho could drag the argument any further.
"Get up. We're leaving."
"What? Hey!" Yeonho called out, grabbing his bag. "I haven't even finished eating my breakfast yet!"
"That's your problem. You took your sweet time getting dressed. Hurry up, or I am leaving you behind."
Grabbing a second piece of toast, Yeonho scrambled out of his chair to follow him, while Min-hyuk stood up and trailed casually behind them.
Outside the main entrance, Seungjo's private sedan was idling, the chauffeur standing by the open door. Yeonho glanced around the courtyard for Carl, but his was nowhere in sight.
"I'm taking off first" Min-hyuk said, pulling Yeonho into his arms and pressing a deep, possessive kiss against his lips right in the middle of the driveway, completely unbothered by the eyes.
As he pulled back, his hand landed with a sharp snap against Yeonho's butt.
"See you around."
Yeonho stood there for a second, offered a lazy wave as Min-hyuk pulled out of the estate. He rubbed his hip with a faint chuckle.
'What's his deal with slapping my ass…'
Seungjo, who had watched the entire display with a cold gaze, turned to Yeonho. "If you plan on acting like that in public, do it on your own time. I won't have this project derailed by an idiot getting caught by paparazzi."
"Yes, sir." Yeonho said sarcasticly.
The driver opened the rear passenger door for Seungjo, but instead of stepping inside, Seungjo gestured with his chin toward the open door, indicating that Yeonho should enter first.
"You're the boss, you go first," Yeonho bickered, leaning against the frame.
"So you can walk off the moment the door closes?" Seungjo countered coldly.
"Please… you're being paranoid. I don't even know where we are."
"Get in. Now." Seungjo ordered.
"Fine, whatever."
Seungjo stepped in right after him, pulling the door shut.
"To the headquarters," he instructed.
"Yes, Sir," the driver nodded, shifting the vehicle into drive and steering away from the estate toward the central financial district.
Twenty minutes later, the luxury sedan pulled into the underground parking structure of Seungjo's corporate headquarters, bypassing the public entrances and parking in a secured private bay reserved exclusively for executive staff.
They boarded a private elevator that bypassed every floor, ascending straight to the 38th floor.
When the doors slid open, a double line of senior management and administrative staff were already standing along the corridor, holding folders and tablets.
"Good morning, Director,"
The staff bowed in unison as Seungjo stepped out. Yeonho trailed a step behind, instantly noticing the eyes turning toward him.
Surprisingly, there was no shock, gossip, or disgust in their expressions. They remained completely composed.
Curious, Yeonho picked up his pace to walk side-by-side with Seungjo.
"What's with their reaction?" Yeonho whispered, glancing back over his shoulder. "They look way too calm."
Seungjo kept his eyes fixed straight ahead. "They are professionals. This is a corporate environment, and I don't tolerate gossip or unprofessionalism from my employees."
Yeonho nodded slowly, satisfied with the answer.
Seungjo's main office was massive, far more luxurious and imposing than his study at the villa. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the city skyline, complemented by sleek leather furniture and minimalist modern decor.
Yeonho casually made himself at home, sinking into the wide lounge sofa in the center of the office while Seungjo took his place behind his executive desk.
Moments later, the door opened. A team of lead stylists and brand coordinators entered, pushing two large rolling racks filled with structured garments, followed by assistants carrying a full-length wheeled mirror.
Though they recognized Yeonho immediately, their expressions remained strictly neutral and professional.
Without a word of explanation, the styling lead motioned for Yeonho to stand.
"What's this now?" Yeonho asked, looking between the rack of high-end label pieces and Seungjo, who was watching from his desk with his chin resting on his hand.
"Change into these," the lead coordinator said politely, presenting a tailored silk suit with subtle metallic threading along the lapels.
"All that preparation i did earlier just to change again."
"Just get on with it and stop complaining." Seungjo scolded.
The staff guided him behind the fitting screen. Within ten minutes, Yeonho stepped back out into the light.
The suit was cut low at the chest, dipping just enough to showcase his neck and collarbones, while the trousers tapered sharply down to a pair of low-heeled leather boots. The cut was bold, elegant, and sat impeccably on his frame.
The styling lead stepped back, checking the fit from every angle. "What do you think, Mr. Choi? The lines suit your posture remarkably well."
"It's fine for a fitting, I suppose," Yeonho said, turning slightly to check his profile in the mirror.
"This isn't just a fitting," Seungjo interrupted from his desk, his voice echoing across the room. "I have scheduled a promotional photoshoot for this afternoon. We need updated headline visuals for the upcoming campaign for my company."
Yeonho spun around, frowning.
"A promotional shoot? You should have informed me earlier. I haven't prepared at all."
"You are prepared now," Seungjo replied flatly.
"No, this is lazy execution," Yeonho shot back, crossing his arms. "Springing an impromptu shoot on me without briefing me on the concept is amateurish."
A subtle shift went through the room. Several designers and assistants exchanged sharp, displeased glances, clearly offended by Yeonho's arrogant critique of their director's planning.
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