Chapter 73
"Hey. Are you dead yet?"
There was no answer from Yejun's limp, motionless body.
Irritated, Yeonho let go of Yejun's heavy head, letting it thud back onto the blood-stained mattress before crossing his arms over his chest.
For a full minute, the room remained dead quiet.
Just as the air in the room grew heavy, Yejun's body twitched violently.
He suddenly gasped for air, his throat rattling as he sucked in ragged lungfuls of oxygen, his bloodshot eyes bulging from the sudden spike in blood pressure.
"Lucky bastard," Yeonho muttered, looking down at him coldly. "You actually survived. Well... I guess that makes you my pawn now."
Standing up, Yeonho snatched the leather bag from Nabi's hands and strode toward the private bathroom.
"Change his clothes," Yeonho commanded over his shoulder. "Yejun is coming with me. Make sure he looks clean and different."
"Yes, mistress," all three bowed in unison as Yeonho shut the bathroom door behind him.
On the bed, Yejun fought to regain his senses. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, chest heaving like a drowning man who had just broken the surface of the water.
The moment the fog in his brain cleared and his strength returned, his erratic behavior flared back up.
"I'm alive... Ha! I'm fucking alive!" Yejun rasped, throwing his head back with a breathless, unhinged laugh. Then his eyes darted wildly around the lit space.
"Wait... Where is he?! Where's Yeonho?! Fuck! Did he run away again?!"
The room was brightly lit, but Yeonho was nowhere in sight.
The only people standing before him were a young woman offering a tight, awkward smile, and two men closing in on him with impassive faces.
Yejun scrambled back against the headboard, his expression instantly contorting into a snarl.
"Don't get too close, you fuckers! I'll kill you all! Don't you know who the fuck I am?! You're going to regret—"
BANG!
"Shut the fuck up!"
The bathroom door swung opened.
Yeonho stepped out into the room wearing only a plush white bathrobe, his damp blonde hair clinging to his forehead, his expression twisted in pure annoyance.
"Can't you shut your mouth for a single minute? You're screaming like a little bitch. Tsk!"
The heavy thud of the door shutting behind Yeonho echoed through the room.
Yejun went completely dumbfounded, his jaw snapping shut.
Standing beside the bed, Carl watched Yejun with a dark urge to crush the man's skull. It nauseated him to see how his Mistress had allowed this disgusting piece of trash to leave raw, dark red marks all over his neck.
"He's mine..." Yejun whispered to himself, a sickening smile creeping onto his pale lips. "Yeonho... My Yeonho is mine. He's finally mine. Hahaha!"
He laughed like a lunatic, completely forgetting that he had been seconds away from dying at the hands of the very person he was obsessed with. His warped mind was fully convinced that he owned Choi Yeonho, entirely oblivious to the fact that he was stepping right into the crosshairs of five far more dangerous men.
Carl and Hyunbae stepped forward to handle Yejun, forcing him into the fresh outfit they had brought.
The clothes were sharp, elegant, and clearly high-end—a far cry from his disheveled and flashy attire earlier.
Yejun didn't resist them much this time, pacified by Nabi's brief comment that they were heading out for a dinner date.
After taking a quick shower, Yeonho unzipped the bag brought by Nabi and Hyunbae.
He sat at the table, dressing in the soft, clean outfit provided for him—a loose, knitted sweater paired with tailored trousers.
It gave him an innocent, strikingly delicate appearance that completely masked the villainous persona underneath.
Yejun sat on the edge of the couch, watching Yeonho's transformation like a starving dog waiting for a bone.
Checking the time on the custom smartwatch Seungjo had forced onto his wrist, Yeonho tucked his compact mirror back into the duffel bag and stood up.
Yejun was instantly on his feet, stepping close to Yeonho's side.
"You're coming with me."
"Yeah. They said we're going on a date."
Yeonho almost let out a laugh at the sheer audacity. The idiot was actually acting like they were a sweet, affectionate couple. The sheer level of Yejun's delusion was ridiculously
funny.
"It's not just a date. We're going to see Hana."
Yejun froze instantly, the grin vanished instantly.
"What's wrong? Are you scared of her?"
"She... I... I can't," Yejun stuttered, taking a step back.
Choi Hana—the woman who had arranged for a crowd of men to rape her own twin brother—was a monster no one in their right mind to fucked with.
She had made him a promise years ago: if Yejun ever showed his face near her again, she would ruin him completely, exposing every dirty secret he had, including the infamous group scandal with Yeonho.
At first, Kim Yejun hadn't taken her seriously—until a sudden, leak about a wild group sex party inside this club almost destroyed his social standing overnight.
It had been Hana's warning shot.
The only reason his reputation hadn't been completely wiped out was because his powerful wife and Seungjo, the owner of the club, had buried the story.
Panicking, Yejun brushed past Yeonho, walking briskly toward the door.
"Let's talk another time," Yejun said nervously, not even looking back. "I can't go anywhere near Hana. I'll do anything else for you, Yeonho—just don't involve her."
'Ah... this coward is actually terrified of her. Tsk.'
Yeonho's eyes flashed with annoyance.
He wasn't about to let anyone cower before Choi Hana, especially not a piece of trash he intended to use as a weapon.
As much as he despised the act, the only way to bend an idiot like Yejun was to play the helpless, lovestruck doll.
Yeonho rushed forward, wrapping his slender arms tightly around Yejun's arm, clinging to him desperately.
"You said you'd do anything!" Yeonho cried out softly, his voice trembling with exaggerated emotion. "If you walk out that door right now, you're never going to see me again. I'll disappear forever!"
"But... I–I can't..."
He slid his arms up, wrapping them around Yejun's neck and burying his face into his shoulder, pulling him into a tight, desperate embrace.
"As long as you listen to everything I say, Yejun-hyung... I'll be yours."
He poured every drop of sweet, intoxicating poison into his voice, but Yejun wavered, his hands hovering over Yeonho's waist, still hesitant.
"Yejun-Hyung? Please?"
Yeonho pulled back slightly, his face inches from Yejun's, eyes glistening with fake tears.
"I did all of that earlier because I wanted to teach my sister a lesson! I didn't want you to die... What if she finds me again? What if she does what she did to me back then?!"
"Back then?" Yejun repeated, his eyebrows pulling together.
Sensing the flicker of curiosity in Yejun's eyes, Yeonho leaned his forehead heavily against his chest, letting out a faint, shuddering breath.
"Did you forget how Hana arranged that scandal?" Yeonho whimpered softly, playing the trauma like a finely tuned instrument. "How my sister gathered all those men to assault me... to rape me? You were one of them... but look at me now..."
Yeonho reached up, using both hands to gently cup Yejun's cheeks, forcing the man to stare directly into his tear-filled, hypnotic eyes.
'Fuck, I want to slap this delusional bastard's face so hard. I'm going to lose my damn mind if he doesn't break right now. Tsk.'
"Do you want other men touching me again?" Yeonho whispered, his voice laced with shameless, manipulative malice masked as vulnerability.
"Do you really want other guys pounding me instead of you? Can you stand the thought of someone else holding me, taking me... ruining me while you do nothing? Will you just stand by and let Hana break me again?"
'Ah, so disgusting. I can't believe im doing this...'
In the background, Nabi and Hyunbae turned their heads away, a look of visceral disgust crossing their faces as they listened to the foul manipulation.
Carl's jaw clenched so hard his joints popped, his fists trembling at his sides.
But none of them dared to step in.
They knew their Mistress. This was all part of the play.
Yejun, picturing the exact scenario Yeonho described, felt a surge of violent, possessive rage flush through his veins.
The thought of anyone else laying a finger on Yeonho drove his obsession over the edge.
Clicking his tongue, he slammed his arms around Yeonho's waist, hauling his body flush against his chest and giving in completely.
"Fine," Yejun growled, his pride overriding his fear. "Let's go teach your little sister a lesson. Come on, baby. Let's go face her."
"Thank God! Yejun-Hyung! Let's go!"
The moment the words left Yejun's mouth, Yeonho broke the hug, giving Yejun a firm nudge toward the door.
Yeonho stepped out of the room first, his innocent facade vanishing for a split second into disgusted face before Yejun caught up to walk beside him.
Carl, Hyunbae, and Nabi fell into step behind them like silent shadows.
They descended the VIP staircase and headed toward the main exit.
As they neared the front doors, the club's security detail stepped forward, eyeing the group surrounding Yejun with suspicion.
Seungjo had issued a strict order to look out for a blonde person, and the bouncers were scrutinizing every face.
Yejun barked at them arrogantly, claiming they were his personal entourage.
Between Yejun's high-status reputation and Yeonho's civilian disguise, the guards failed to recognize him—especially since the specific bouncer who had seen Yeonho's face earlier was currently on a smoke break.
Passing through the doors, they stepped into the crisp night air. Yeonho gave the driver the exact address of the high-end restaurant.
Carl, Nabi, and Hyunbae boarded a separate vehicle, following closely behind with orders to hold their position across the street from the venue until Yeonho gave the signal.
The sleek black car pulled up to the entrance of the restaurant, its engine idling smoothly.
Yeonho leaned against the tinted window, staring up at the grand facade.
"Once we walk through those doors, we're a couple," Yeonho instructed coldly, not turning his head.
"When Hana asks—"
Before he could finish, Yejun leaned over, burying his face into Yeonho's neck and inhaling deeply against his collarbone.
"Yeonho... you smell so good... so sweet..."
Fed up, Yeonho brought his palm in a sharp, stingingly loud slap across Yejun's cheek.
PAA!
Yejun flinched back, hand flying to his reddening face in absolute shock.
"...You just slapped me."
"Because you're not listening," Yeonho hissed, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. "I hate it when people ignore me when I'm talking."
Yejun blinked, stunned into submission by the sudden, dominant shift.
"Okay... My bad."
Yeonho shoved Yejun's shoulder roughly, letting out a deep, annoyed sigh as he pushed the car door open and stepped out into the night.
"Wait! Yeonho!"
Yejun called out frantically from inside, fumbling awkwardly with the door handle before rushing out to catch up.
The exterior of the restaurant glowed with blinding golden lights.
Above the grand marble archway, lush neon lettering spelled out the name: South Heavens.
Dressed in designer gowns and tailored three-piece suits, high-society patrons glided through the entrance.
'South Heavens? Sounds like a perfect place for people to die.'
A formal attendant stood on standby near the gilded double doors.
Yeonho slowed his pace until Yejun caught up, immediately looping his arm firmly around Yejun's elbow like a devoted partner.
A male host bowed politely as they stepped into the grand lobby.
"Welcome to South Heavens. May I ask if you have a reservation tonight?"
They paused near the decorative marble wall.
""No," Yeonho replied softly, offering a sheepish, crestfallen expression. "Is it full tonight? We don't have a booking."
The host gave an apologetic bow.
"I'm afraid our main dining hall is fully booked for private events tonight, sir."
"Ah... that's a shame," Yeonho sighed, leaning his head against Yejun's shoulder.
"My boyfriend and I were hoping to celebrate our anniversary here. My boss, Ms. Choi Hana, recommended this place..."
The moment the name Choi Hana dropped, the attendant's posture stiffened.
Recognizing the name of the prominent guest currently hosting an exclusive banquet on the upper floor, the young host immediately bowed lower, his tone shifting into deep reverence.
"My deepest apologies, sir! Please, allow me to guide you upstairs."
The inexperienced attendant hastily escorted them toward the private elevator leading to the second-floor VIP hall.
Almost every employee working tonight had been talking about the lavish dinner arranged by Choi Hana for her distinguished guests.
'So easy... Poor guy, he's definitely getting fired...' Yeonho thought as the elevator doors closed.
Upon reaching the VIP floor, the host bowed once more and stepped back, leaving them to proceed alone.
Left on their own, Yeonho scanned the dimly lit hall.
The atmosphere up here was far more intimate than the busy floor below—soft golden lanterns hung from the ceiling, and off to the side, a live jazz singer's smooth voice drifted over a grand piano.
Seated around the expansive dining table were five strikingly powerful men.
And sitting right at the center, looking radiant, pure, and utterly innocent, was Choi Hana, looking completely thrilled with the evening she had planned.
Yeonho's lips curved into a cold smile.
He tightened his grip on Yejun's arm, pulling the idiot right beside him.
"Follow me. And don't you dare ruin my show."
Together, they stepped into the warm glow of the chandeliers, heading straight toward the table to shatter Choi Hana's perfect night into absolute pieces.
.
.
.
.