Chapter Text
The storm outside was polite at first — a gentle tapping of rain against the window, as if the sky itself was hesitant to interrupt.
Taehyun sat at the edge of his bed, perfect posture, hands clenched tightly around the velvet cushion resting on his lap. His room was as it had always been — elegant and expensive. But today, it felt more like a prison wrapped in soft fabric and gold accents.
Across from him, his parents sat as if they’d rehearsed the scene. Calm. Measured.
“We’re losing everything,” his mother said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the floor, unfocused.
“The board is folding,” his father added. “Investors are gone. The banks are watching us like vultures.”
Taehyun swallowed. “I thought we had more time.”
“We did,” his father replied. “And now we don't.”
The silence that followed pressed hard against Taehyun’s ribs. It wasn’t just the company. It was their name. Their empire. Everything that had been passed down in quiet, tight-fisted pride. Everything that was supposed to be unshakable.
“There is a solution,” his mother said carefully. “An arrangement.”
A bitter laugh slipped from Taehyun’s lips before he could stop it. “A deal, you mean.”
“The Choi family has extended an offer,” his father continued. “Their eldest son is ready to merge assets. He’s powerful. Wealthy. Clean reputation. A union that would benefit both families.”
“You mean marry,” Taehyun said. The word tasted like rust in his mouth.
Another pause. Then a quiet nod.
He stood slowly, the cushion falling from his lap to the floor. “I’m nineteen.”
“That’s legal,” his father said flatly.
“That’s not grown,” Taehyun snapped. “You’re asking me to give up everything — my future, my freedom — to marry a stranger and carry the weight of this mess like it’s mine.”
“It is yours,” his mother said. “This family is yours. What’s built here is for you.”
Taehyun turned to the window. Outside, the rain had thickened — no longer soft, now steady. Persistent.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to run until his lungs gave out.
But instead, he asked, “Why not have Sooyoung do it?”
That made them go still.
“She’s older. Why not her?”
“She’s pregnant,” his father said stiffly. “With that… boyfriend’s child.”
“Junwoo isn’t one of us,” his mother added. “He’s not educated. His family doesn’t come from old money.”
“She’s throwing her life away,” his father said. “And now, because of her mistake, the responsibility falls to you.”
Taehyun’s mouth fell open. “So I have to fix it? I have to marry a stranger to save face because she got pregnant?”
“We’re not proud of the position we’re in,” his mother said, voice cracking for the first time. “But we are running out of options.”
“I don’t even like men,” he blurted before thinking — then flinched. That wasn’t the truth. That wasn’t what he meant. “I mean… I haven’t even— I don’t know who I am yet. I haven’t had time to figure any of this out.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “You have time after. This is bigger than identity crises and heartbreaks. This is legacy.”
And what about love? Taehyun wanted to scream. What about Hueningkai? The late-night phone calls, the trembling hands, the breathless I-love-yous behind parking lot shadows? The kisses in his car, pressed up against leather seats, far away from the gates of this house and everything it stood for?
He couldn’t say any of that.
His parents wouldn’t just reject it — they’d weaponize it. Use it as further proof that he wasn’t mature enough. That his “relationship” was nothing more than a distraction.
So instead he stared at the storm.
“I’m not marrying anyone,” he said, low and steady.
“You don’t have that choice,” his father said.
“Then I won’t be part of this family.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m not,” he said. “You’re asking me to sacrifice everything, and you call me dramatic?”
“You’ll meet Beomgyu. That’s all we ask,” his mother said gently. “Just a meeting.”
A strange chill crept through Taehyun’s chest — not fear, exactly, but something worse. A shift. Like the weight of something inevitable had already begun moving toward him, and he’d be powerless to stop it when it arrived.
“Choi Beomgyu is not a man you say no to,” his father added quietly. “You’ll understand when you see him.”
Taehyun didn’t like the way that sounded. There was something final about it.
He turned back to the window. The rain had turned fierce now, thunder rumbling in the distance like a threat.
Or a promise.
‘They don’t know you like I do Kai’ he thought bitterly.
And for now, that would have to be enough.
Chapter Text
The gated park Taehyun slipped into wasn’t far from home, but it felt like another universe.
The gate had always been locked after dark, but he knew the side entrance, the way the latch stuck if you angled it right. He’d memorized the sound of his footsteps on the damp gravel, the rhythm of silence that meant he was already here.
Hueningkai stood beneath the massive oak tree in the middle of the park, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, eyes lifting the moment he heard Taehyun approach.
“You’re late,” Kai said softly, but there was no anger in it.
“I had to wait for them to sleep,” Taehyun murmured, stepping closer. He didn’t say more than that. He didn’t have to. Kai already knew the rhythm of his curfews, the way his mother left her door cracked open to hear movement.
Kai studied him for a long beat. “You look tired.”
I am, Taehyun thought. Tired of pretending. Tired of lying. Tired of being two people stitched together by fear and hope.
Instead he just said, “I’m fine.”
Kai’s lips twitched, a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Liar.”
Taehyun looked away. “You always meet me here.”
“Because it’s the only place I can touch you,” Kai said, voice low and unwavering. “The only place you’re mine without having to ask permission.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
A breeze drifted through the trees. Taehyun watched a few petals fall from the branches above them. Everything about the moment felt still. Fragile. Temporary.
“You don’t have to sneak out anymore,” Kai said suddenly. “We could tell them.”
Taehyun froze.
“I’m serious,” Kai continued. “I know they won’t like it — but I’m not going anywhere. Let them yell, let them disown you if they have to. You have your own life, Tae. You don’t belong to them.”
Taehyun took a shaky breath. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is,” Kai said, stepping closer now. “We’ve been doing this for a year. Hiding. Whispering. I love you, and I know you love me. Why are we still pretending this doesn’t deserve to exist in daylight?”
Taehyun’s jaw tightened. Because love isn’t enough. Not here. Not in his world. Not when he was raised on legacy and image and consequences.
But all he said was, “Soon.”
Kai’s face faltered. “You said that last month.”
“I meant it.”
“And the month before that.”
Taehyun met his eyes then, and for the first time in the conversation, he didn’t try to hide. “I’m scared.”
Kai didn’t blink. “Of them?”
“Of everything. Of losing them. Of losing you.”
“You won’t lose me.”
“But I might lose everything else,” Taehyun whispered. “My family. My future. My reputation. My… everything I’ve ever known.”
Kai’s expression cracked. “So I’m just the thing you hide to keep it all?”
“No—” Taehyun reached for him, grabbing his wrist, fingers tightening like he was trying to hold time still. “You’re the only thing I’m sure of. That’s why it hurts.”
There was silence again. The kind that made your chest ache from the weight of what wasn’t said.
Kai looked at him for a long time, then gently untangled their hands.
“You say ‘soon’ like it’s a promise,” he said. “But it feels more like a goodbye waiting to happen.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” Taehyun said, voice raw.
“Then don’t. Choose me”
But what if he already had?
He didn’t say it aloud.
Instead, they stood there, two shadows among trees and silence, and Taehyun leaned in slowly — hesitant— pressing his forehead to Kai’s.
“I’ll figure it out,” he whispered. “I swear.”
Kai didn’t answer. But he didn’t move away either.
And far off in the city, behind penthouse walls and golden chandeliers, Choi Beomgyu’s name had already been spoken in closed rooms, passed through contracts and wine glasses, waiting to make its way into Taehyun’s world.
He just didn’t know it yet.
-
The marble floor of the Choi estate echoed under Beomgyu’s footsteps — slow, deliberate, untouchable.
The room was quiet save for the faint ticking of a grandfather clock and the distant hum of wind through tall glass windows. His father sat by the fire, swirling dark liquor in a crystal glass, and across from him sat Taehyun’s parents — their shoulders too tense, their smiles too polished.
Desperate people always looked the same.
Beomgyu stepped into view, dressed in all black, silk shirt unbuttoned at the collar, silver chain catching the firelight like a threat. His presence shifted the air. The room didn’t welcome him — it obeyed.
Mrs. Kang stood at once. “Beomgyu, you’re—”
“Exactly as advertised?” he asked, voice low, amused.
Her laugh was nervous. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said, moving to pour himself a drink without asking. “Let’s hope your son has too.”
A beat of silence followed. Taehyun’s father cleared his throat. “We’re grateful your family agreed to meet. We know you don’t normally… entertain proposals like this.”
“No,” Beomgyu said. “We don’t.”
Another silence. His father watched him over the rim of his glass, but said nothing. Beomgyu’s hands were steady as he drank, his eyes sharp as knives.
“I have a few conditions,” he said eventually.
“Anything,” Mrs. Kang breathed, almost too quickly. “Just name it.”
Beomgyu looked at her then, slowly, with a tilt of his head. “Anything?”
She faltered.
Beomgyu smiled. “Relax. I’m not interested in hurting your son.”
She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
He turned toward the window, where the city stretched out in glittering constellations. “I’ll meet him tomorrow. I want it done quietly. No press. No announcements. No theatrics.”
“Of course,” Taehyun’s father said.
“And I want full transfer of title and assets by the end of the quarter.”
A contract. Not a union. A deal sealed between two young people.
“And Taehyun…” Mrs. Kang asked, almost gently, “will he… like you?”
Beomgyu gave a faint laugh. “I don’t require his affection.”
“But we hope he—”
“I don’t need him to like me,” Beomgyu said. “I only need him to follow through.”
His father finally spoke, voice smooth and unreadable. “Taehyun is known for being compliant. Though he’s still fairly young.”
Beomgyu’s smile sharpened. “Good. I prefer them obedient.”
There was something quiet in the way he said it. Not cruel. Not overt. Just cold enough to make the room still again.
The Kang family exchanged a look. But neither protested.
They didn’t care about Beomgyu’s motives — only the money, the merger, the rescue from ruin. A son could be exchanged if the price was right.
And Beomgyu? He watched them closely, as if already writing the ending in his mind.
Outside, the night darkened.
Somewhere across the city, Taehyun was still dreaming of escape.
But his name was already inked in black and gold.
And Beomgyu had just signed the page.
Chapter Text
The room was too bright. Sterile, white-washed, and trimmed with gold—another reminder that wealth didn’t mean warmth.
Taehyun sat perfectly still, hands folded in his lap, letting his parents speak for him like he wasn’t even there.
Like he was a pawn being traded on a polished chessboard.
“It’s a simple arrangement,” his mother said, her tone syrupy with false charm. “We keep things quiet until the merger finalizes. No media. No drama.”
“Taehyun has always been obedient,” his father added, a glance toward him like he expected him to nod in agreement.
Taehyun didn’t.
He stared at the untouched teacup in front of him. At the glint of his mother’s earrings. At the perfectly symmetrical lines of the room. Anything but the man sitting across from him.
Because Beomgyu wasn’t looking away.
Not once.
Taehyun felt it before he saw it. The slow, indulgent sweep of eyes. The way Beomgyu sat back, legs crossed, hand resting at his jaw—confident, lazy, hungry.
He finally looked up.
And Beomgyu smiled.
It wasn’t a friendly smile. It wasn’t even polite. It was the kind of smile that felt like fingers slipping under your skin, like someone imagining what you’d look like undone. Taehyun’s breath caught before he could stop it.
Don’t react.
He shifted his gaze to the window, pretending not to notice the heat crawling up the back of his neck.
His mind drifted.
Hueningkai.
The last thing he said before Taehyun left last night was “Don’t let them win. Choose us.”
Taehyun hadn’t answered.
Because what did winning even mean anymore?
This wasn’t a battle. It was a sentence. A contract. And he was the ink.
“Taehyun?” his mother prompted, sharp.
He blinked.
“Beomgyu asked you a question,” she said with forced patience.
Taehyun looked up again—at him.
Beomgyu didn’t look annoyed. He looked amused. Like he enjoyed watching Taehyun flinch under his gaze.
“I asked if you agreed to the terms,” Beomgyu said, slow and smooth. “Or if I should find someone else.”
Taehyun’s throat tightened. The words he wanted to say—I have a boyfriend, I’m not for sale, this isn’t your decision—died somewhere in the back of his mouth.
He looked at his parents. His mother already smiling like the deal was done. His father nodding once, brisk and firm. So proud of him for being so quiet.
His stomach twisted.
Beomgyu was still watching.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Taehyun said finally.
Beomgyu leaned forward, just slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
“No,” he said. “But I want to hear you say yes anyway.”
Taehyun’s spine went rigid.
And Beomgyu smiled again.
He’s enjoying this, Taehyun realized. Every second of it.
He glanced at his parents. Their joy was obvious. So sure they were saving their name, their fortune, their legacy.
What about mine?
His eyes flicked to his sister’s empty seat.
She was pregnant. Not married. And still somehow free.
Taehyun swallowed, voice clipped. “Yes.”
Beomgyu’s eyes gleamed.
“Good,” he said. “You’ll make a very pretty husband.”
Taehyun felt his chest go tight.
And for the first time since the meeting began, he finally looked Beomgyu in the eye—and held it.
He wasn’t going to cower. Not for Beomgyu. Not for his parents. Not even for the shame clawing at his heart.
But Beomgyu just tilted his head, dark and unreadable, gaze burning.
He looked like he wanted to peel Taehyun apart.
And Taehyun had a terrifying thought he couldn’t unthink:
Part of me wants him to.
-
Taehyun could still feel it. Beomgyu’s eyes on him.
Even now, sitting in the backseat of his family’s black car, his reflection in the tinted glass was pale and pinched. His mother and father were chatting about contracts and possible wedding venues like he hadn’t just sold himself with a single word.
Yes.
He hadn’t meant to say it. Not really. But it had slipped out, like some poisoned promise. And Beomgyu had smiled like he knew. Like he could hear every scream Taehyun was holding inside.
Taehyun stared at his own fingers in his lap, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
He knows.
That was the thought he couldn’t shake. Beomgyu had looked right through him — not just at him, but into him. Like he could see the war Taehyun was waging, the way he’d swallowed back his love for Hueningkai and painted over it with obedience.
He saw it. All of it.
And he liked it.
The very idea made Taehyun’s stomach turn.
He exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut. He pictured Hueningkai’s face. The way he smiled when he was proud of him. The way he held him in the dark, like Taehyun was something soft and fragile. The way he believed in him—even now.
Even after everything.
“I’ll tell them about us,” Kai had whispered the night before, voice quiet under the rustle of wind through the trees. “Let me. They need to know who you really are.”
But Taehyun hadn’t let him.
And deep down, he wasn’t sure he ever would.
Family came first.
That rule had been written into him before he could spell his own name. The Kangs weren’t just people—they were reputation. Legacy. Expectation. You didn’t just step out of that. You didn’t just choose to be someone else.
Even if it meant hiding the boy you loved.
Even if it meant marrying a stranger with cold hands and darker eyes.
I’m doing this for them, he told himself. Just until things settle. Then I’ll find a way out. Kai and I will leave—
But the image cracked the moment Beomgyu’s face slipped in again. The way he sat back in his chair, eyes devouring him like a secret he planned to keep. The way he didn’t even pretend to be polite. The way he enjoyed watching Taehyun fall silent.
It wasn’t attraction. It was something else.
Power.
Possession.
He knows I’m spoken for, Taehyun thought, jaw tightening. So why did he look at me like that?
And worse—why did part of me look back?
He shook his head. No. No. I’m not doing this.
Hueningkai loved him. Hueningkai knew him. Beomgyu didn’t even ask his favorite color. He was marrying Taehyun for a merger—nothing more.
So why did it feel like Beomgyu already had his hands around his throat?
The car pulled to a stop.
Home.
Taehyun stepped out, greeted by the cold sting of dusk. The house loomed in front of him—large, pristine, perfect. It looked exactly the same.
But everything inside him had changed.
The moment Taehyun stepped inside the house, he bolted.
No fake smiles for the housekeepers. No pause to take off his shoes. Just the sound of footsteps echoing off marble as he flew up the stairs, two at a time, heart pounding like he was still sitting under Beomgyu’s gaze.
By the time his bedroom door slammed shut behind him, he couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream.
He just stood there, chest heaving, eyes locked on the window like he could run through it and disappear.
Instead, he reached for his phone.
There was only one person he could call when the walls got too tight—someone who knew the real him, who didn’t treat his love like a crime or a scandal.
Soobin.
His thumb hovered for just a second before pressing the name. It rang once. Twice.
“Hey,” came Soobin’s soft, warm voice, already laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Taehyun sat on the edge of his bed and said nothing for a moment, staring down at the floor.
“I said yes,” he whispered.
A beat of silence.
“…To the marriage?”
Taehyun nodded before realizing Soobin couldn’t see him. “Yeah.”
He could practically hear Soobin standing up from wherever he was, voice going tight. “What happened? I thought you were gonna—”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Taehyun cut in. “They just… they already made up their minds. I was just there to agree. Like a signature they needed.”
“Taehyun…”
He closed his eyes. “They didn’t even ask if I wanted to. They didn’t care about—about me or…”
He stopped himself.
Or Hueningkai.
But the name didn’t come out.
Soobin waited. He always knew when to wait.
Finally, Taehyun muttered, “I can’t tell him. Not yet.”
“You’re going to have to,” Soobin said gently. “You think he won’t notice something’s wrong?”
“I just need more time,” Taehyun whispered. “Just until I can figure something out. Maybe I can stop it. Maybe Beomgyu will back out, or—”
“You’re holding on to a hope that has already fallen,” Soobin said, not unkindly. “I know you’re scared. I would be too. But Kai deserves to know before he finds out from someone else.”
Taehyun’s voice cracked. “If I tell him, he’ll want me to choose him. I’ll have to leave everything behind. Even you.”
Soobin didn’t answer.
And that silence was an answer in itself.
Taehyun rubbed his temples. “I hate this. I hate all of it. And my sister—God, she’s pregnant and she gets to live her life. Meanwhile I’m the bargaining chip.”
“I know,” Soobin said, voice low with sympathy. “I wish I could fix it for you.”
“You can’t,” Taehyun said. “But… thanks for picking up.”
“You’ll always have me, okay?” Soobin said. “Even if the world burns down.”
Taehyun swallowed hard. “I know.”
They stayed on the phone a little longer, neither of them really speaking. Just the comfort of shared silence between two boys trying to survive a world that never asked what they wanted.
-
Later that night…
The house was asleep, but Taehyun was wide awake.
The sky was dark velvet, and the city lights blinked like stars too tired to shine.
He moved like a shadow—hood pulled low, phone tucked in his jacket, sneakers silent on the stairs. The driver was gone. His parents asleep. The guards rotated every thirty minutes, and he’d memorized the gaps.
He slipped through them like smoke.
The park was gated, same as always.
He stepped through the iron gate and into silence.
And there, waiting near their massive oak tree, was Hueningkai.
He looked like a dream pulled from a memory. Denim jacket, hands in his pockets, head tilted toward the stars. Like he hadn’t spent the entire day being erased from Taehyun’s future.
Kai turned as Taehyun approached, and he smiled—small and unsure.
“You came,” he said softly.
Taehyun nodded, throat tight. “Of course I did.”
Kai stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Taehyun sank into the warmth, breathing him in like a prayer he couldn’t say out loud.
But the guilt clawed at his back.
And when Kai whispered, “Tell them about us,” Taehyun didn’t answer right away.
He just held him tighter.
Because somewhere deep down, he already knew—
He wouldn’t.
Chapter Text
Taehyun’s suit didn’t feel right.
It was custom-tailored, hand-stitched, worth more than some people’s rent—but it felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone who didn’t spend the night wrapped around lies and the boy he couldn’t claim in daylight.
“Straighten your collar,” his mother snapped under her breath.
Taehyun didn’t move.
They were back at the Choi estate, seated in the same room as last time filled with cold luxury and calculated silence. It smelled like polished wood and generational power. The kind of room where decisions were made long before anyone spoke them aloud.
Beomgyu hadn’t arrived yet.
Which meant the room was tense in the worst way—his father flipping through some thick folder of legal documents like he actually understood them, and his mother pretending she wasn’t judging every strand of Taehyun’s hair.
Taehyun tuned them both out.
He was too busy going over the night before—Kai’s arms, the feel of gravel under his feet in the park, the way he’d said “we’ll figure it out” like that actually meant something.
Then the door opened.
Beomgyu entered like he owned the country. And technically, he did.
All slow strides and tailored perfection, dark eyes sharp enough to cut steel. His cousin Yeonjun followed a few steps behind, grinning like this was a party and not a quiet war.
Beomgyu’s gaze found Taehyun immediately.
And he smiled.
Not warm. Not soft.
It was the kind of smile a wolf might wear just before it sinks its teeth into something fragile.
Taehyun stiffened.
The adults exchanged pleasantries. Handshakes. Fake compliments. All the noise of diplomacy and greed. But Taehyun didn’t hear any of it—not until Beomgyu cleared his throat and casually announced, “By the way, we’ll be making the engagement public today.”
Silence.
Utter, full-bodied silence.
Taehyun’s head whipped toward him. “What?”
Beomgyu turned toward him like he was bored. “The papers are signed. It’s only a formality. We might as well control the narrative before someone else leaks it.”
“No one said anything about—” Taehyun started, heart thudding.
“Actually, we did,” Beomgyu said smoothly, lifting a brow. “You agreed. You were there.”
Taehyun blinked, replaying that day. His parents had done the talking. He’d been checked out—distracted by a thousand things he didn’t want to feel. He remembered Beomgyu watching him. Smiling.
Had he said yes?
Had he really—
“You knew I wasn’t paying attention,” Taehyun said, voice low.
Beomgyu shrugged. “Not my fault if you treat your life like background noise.”
“You can’t just—”
“Yes, I can,” Beomgyu interrupted. “And I did.”
Taehyun turned to his parents. “You’re going to let him make it public without telling me?”
His mother adjusted her bracelet like the conversation bored her. “It’s a good match, Taehyun. Better to announce it now, while interest is still fresh.”
“This isn’t a movie premiere,” he snapped.
His father didn’t look up from the papers. “You said yes. It’s done.”
“No,” Taehyun said, standing. “It’s not done just because he decided—”
“You agreed,” Beomgyu repeated, louder now. “Legally. Contractually. Emotionally—well, I’ll get there.”
Taehyun’s heart twisted.
And in the corner of the room, Yeonjun let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
Beomgyu’s eyes never left him.
There was no affection there.
Just ownership.
Like he’d already won.
Like he liked winning.
Taehyun sat back down slowly, pulse thudding in his ears. His parents didn’t look at him. Didn’t care that he’d been manipulated. Didn’t care what it meant.
They just wanted their empire intact.
And Beomgyu—he didn’t just want their wealth.
He wanted him .
And the worst part?
A small part of Taehyun had finally stopped pretending not to notice.
-
The ride home was silent.
His parents sat in the backseat like royalty—cool, composed, as if their son hadn’t just been publicly claimed like a possession. Taehyun’s driver didn’t speak, but the glances in the rearview mirror said enough: another spoiled heir with another scandal in the making.
Taehyun’s fists clenched at his sides, nails pressing into his palm hard enough to sting.
He didn’t wait for the car to stop fully when they arrived. He shoved the door open, stormed inside, past the marble stairs and family portraits that suddenly made his stomach turn.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” his father called from behind him.
Taehyun didn’t answer.
He grabbed his keys and left in his own car.
-
Soobin opened the apartment door in sweats, blinking against the harsh hallway light. “Hyun?”
“I can’t be there,” Taehyun said. “At home, I mean. I can’t even look at them.”
Soobin stepped aside without a word and Taehyun walked in, collapsing onto the couch like gravity had suddenly tripled.
“So,” Soobin said softly, “you gonna tell me what happened, or should I guess?”
Taehyun exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling. “They want to announce it. The engagement. Beomgyu just… said it in front of everyone.”
Soobin’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw tightened. “He blindsided you?”
“He said I agreed. I wasn’t even paying attention that day. I was—God, I don’t know—I was thinking about Kai, about everything. And I just sat there. Said yes without knowing.”
“That’s not consent,” Soobin muttered, “that’s manipulation.”
Taehyun’s eyes flickered to Soobin’s arm as he shifted—briefly, just for a second, his sleeve slid back. A small bruise peeked out, near the inside of his elbow.
Taehyun sat up. “What’s that?”
Soobin pulled the sleeve down immediately. “Nothing.”
“That’s not—”
“I said it’s nothing.” His voice cracked slightly, and then he softened it. “You’ve got bigger problems.”
Taehyun wanted to push, to ask again, but he recognized the wall Soobin was putting up. He’d seen it before. Instead, he let the silence fall between.
“I need to tell Kai,” he said eventually. “Before he find’s out. He deserves that much.”
Soobin nodded. “Then tell him. Call. Text. Just… find a place that’s yours. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere away from all of this.”
“Yeah,” Taehyun said, pulling out his phone. “We’ll meet at the park. Where we always go.”
But as he opened his phone, a push notification lit up the screen.
CHOI INDUSTRIES ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT TO KANG FAMILY HEIR
A stock photo of him and Beomgyu—likely taken at their first meeting—flashed across every social app.
He felt the blood drain from his face.
The caption beneath the post read: “South Korea’s most powerful conglomerates unite through a surprise engagement. Choi Beomgyu, heir to Choi Industries, is officially engaged to Kang Taehyun, son of the collapsing Kang Holdings.”
He hadn’t even told Kai.
And now the whole world knew.
Soobin looked over his shoulder. “Hyun…”
Taehyun didn’t blink. “He’s going to find out from his phone.”
“Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.”
“Kai lives off social media.” Taehyun’s voice was hollow now. “I told him we’d have more time.”
Soobin put a hand on his shoulder. “Text him anyway. Tell him everything. He’ll want to hear it from you, even if it’s late.”
Taehyun nodded numbly.
The truth was, the lie had gone on too long. He’d promised Hueningkai they’d tell the world. That they’d love in the light. But Taehyun had never really planned for that. It was all Hueningkai.
He was always going to be too late.
And now?
Now, Beomgyu had already won.
-
meet me tonight? same place. please.
The message hovered on his screen, unsent, for a full minute. His thumb hovered over “send,” heart thudding. He hit it before he could think again.
The read receipt came quickly. A few seconds passed, then Hueningkai’s reply lit up:
you sure you’re not busy being someone’s fiancé?
Taehyun closed his eyes. A familiar ache bloomed in his chest—shame, guilt, helplessness, all twisted into one sick knot.
please, Kai. we need to talk. just you and me.
i swear it’s not what you think.
This time, it took longer for the response to come.
you’ve said that before.
Still, Hueningkai agreed to meet.
-
The gated park was nearly empty, the paths wrapped in a hush of trees and shadows. Taehyun was already waiting at their usual spot, seated on the edge of a half-crumbling stone bench, hands tucked into his sleeves, leg bouncing nervously.
He heard Kai before he saw him. The way he always walked—quiet, light, like the world didn’t deserve to feel his presence unless he allowed it.
“You look like shit,” Hueningkai said as he approached, voice low.
Taehyun let out a breathless laugh. “Good to see you too.”
Kai stood in front of him, unmoving. “So? Is it true?”
Taehyun looked up. “I didn’t say yes to the announcement.”
“But you said yes at the meeting.”
“I didn’t know what I was saying yes to.” His voice cracked. “I was… I was thinking about you.”
Hueningkai blinked slowly. “You didn’t tell me you were even meeting him.”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Or maybe,” Kai said, eyes narrowing, “you just didn’t want to admit you’re still afraid of losing your family.”
Taehyun looked away.
Hueningkai sat beside him now, close enough to touch but not quite. “Do you really think I care if they disown you? I’d take you with nothing.”
“But I can’t give you nothing,” Taehyun whispered. “I’m not like you, Kai. I was raised to protect this empire even when it hurts me. Even when it kills me.”
“You were raised to be a pawn,” Kai snapped. “You told me we’d come clean. That we’d stop hiding.”
“I wanted to.”
“So what changed?”
Beomgyu’s eyes.
That was what changed.
Eyes that watched him too closely, lips that curled like he knew things Taehyun hadn’t even admitted to himself. Power that didn’t ask—it commanded.
“I didn’t expect him to make it public,” Taehyun said instead.
“Then why haven’t you denied it?”
He didn’t answer.
For a second, the silence between them felt too sharp to breathe through.
And then, Hueningkai’s voice softened. “Do you still love me?”
Taehyun hesitated. “Yes.”
Hueningkai turned to him fully now. “Are you sure ?”
Taehyun didn’t answer fast enough.
That was all Kai needed.
He stood, the movement quick and frustrated. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay.”
“Kai—wait—”
But Hueningkai just held up a hand. “I still believe in us. But I’m not going to wait around while you play house with someone else.”
His steps were louder this time. No longer soft or secretive. Taehyun didn’t try to follow.
Because the worst part?
He didn’t know if Kai was wrong.
-
“So the post is doing numbers,” Yeonjun said as he leaned over the desk with a grin, scrolling through his phone. “Trending everywhere. Netizens are going insane over the ‘unexpected union of two empires.’ You’re practically a fairytale now.”
Beomgyu didn’t smile.
He sat at the head of the long conference table, back straight, one hand curled loosely over his glass of whiskey. The press photo of him and Taehyun was now framed beside him, printed for the company’s image release.
“It’s just the beginning,” Beomgyu murmured.
Yeonjun raised a brow. “You’re actually serious about this one, huh?”
Beomgyu didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he picked up the photo frame, tilted it ever so slightly, and stared at Taehyun’s captured expression—shy, wary, unaware of how deeply someone was already watching him.
“I don’t care about the Kang’s empire,” Beomgyu finally said. “I don’t even care about the press.”
Yeonjun tilted his head. “So what do you care about?”
Beomgyu smiled, slow and calculated.
“I care about him. ”
Chapter Text
[Beomgyu]
The city glittered beneath the glass windows of Beomgyu’s penthouse, all diamonds and steel and illusion. But his eyes weren’t on the skyline.
They were fixed on the small photo clutched between his fingers—taken a year ago at a gala no one seemed to remembered but him.
Taehyun stood just off-center in the background, wearing a stiff navy suit two sizes too big, a half-drained drink in hand, and an expression that didn’t match the luxury around him. He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t laughing like the rest. His mouth was drawn, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched with something that looked too heavy for someone that young.
Beomgyu traced his thumb over the image, the glossy surface catching light.
This was the moment.
The exact moment everything started.
-
It had been just weeks after his twenty-first birthday—Beomgyu still high on the freedom of being declared the heir to Choi Industries. The gala had been meaningless, another night of flattery and business cards.
Until him .
Beomgyu hadn’t even heard his name that night. He’d simply watched from across the room. The way Taehyun stood a little too close to the wall. The way his sister, a golden girl in a pearl dress, leaned in to whisper something that made his shoulders tighten. The way his parents barely looked at him except to offer a smile for the cameras.
A beautiful, bruised thing dressed up to please a world that didn’t deserve him.