Chapter 38
A sleek, pitch-black sedan pulled up smoothly on the opposite side of the road as all three of them watched.
The vehicle radiated an undeniable aura of immense wealth and political power, flanked immediately by two heavy escort SUVs trailing right behind it.
Yeonho's face instantly brightened. Both men beside him flicked their gazes toward him, then back to the car as the heavy rear door swung open.
"Mr. Han!" Yeonho shouted with a bright, cheerful grin.
Jiseok stepped out into the dim streetlights, a cohort of broad-shouldered security guards moving in sync behind him. Yeonho beamed, a flush of pure relief colorizing his cheeks.
'Finally… I can actually rest my legs,'
Yeonho thought, his eyes locked entirely on Jiseok.
As the older man walked toward their position, Min-Hyuk felt a sudden, heavy pressure. Jiseok's commanding presence and sheer aura were intimidating enough to stir a flicker of raw irritation and discomfort in the
Min-Hyuk's chest. This man clearly wielded absolute authority.
Without wasting a single second, Yeonho abandoned Gyeongjae and Min-Hyuk on the pavement. His savior had arrived, and he couldn't afford to disappoint Jiseok, especially since being caught with two other men might spark Jiseok's jealousy.
Standing perfectly still, Gyeongjae and Min-Hyuk watched them in heavy silence.
Without a shred of hesitation, Yeonho threw his arms securely around Jiseok's neck and kissed him directly on the lips. Jiseok's hand slid to Yeonho's waist, anchoring him close to return the kiss before Yeonho pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze.
Gyeongjae ground his teeth, his posture turning visibly hostile.
Beside him, Min-Hyuk raised a brow in sheer shock. Never in his life did he think Yeonho would actually go for an older benefactor.
Swallowing down their mounting questions and messy, tangled emotions, both men kept their mouths shut, watching the intimate display unfold.
"You look beautiful, dear. How was your work?"
"It was good, but I'm just so tired, exhausted, and hungry," Yeonho murmured, resting his head heavily against Jiseok's shoulder and lazily rubbing his brow against the expensive fabric.
'I missed this feeling… having someone strong to lean on.'
"Let's get you home so you can change your clothes. You look completely worn out."
Jiseok cupped Yeonho's jaw, his thumb tracing the pale skin to examine his features while Yeonho simply allowed it, his lips forming a pout.
"Mr. Han?" Yeonho blinked.
"I told you before, you don't have to work. You already have everything." Jiseok let his hand drop from Yeonho's face before looking over his shoulder.
"Take his belongings."
One of the bodyguards immediately stepped forward, bowing respectfully as he offered an open hand toward Yeonho.
"Let me take your bag, Mistress."
Yeonho handed it over without a thought, and the guard stepped back into formation.
"Now, let's go, Mr. Han…"
But as Yeonho turned to walk toward the waiting sedan, Jiseok's grip tightened firmly around his waist, pulling him back.
"Why are they here? And who is this guy?"
Jiseok's voice dropped, laced with a quiet gravity.
"Are you doing something behind my back, dear?"
'Shit… I'm doomed.'
All Yeonho wanted was a soft bed and a hot meal, but Jiseok looked ready to instigate a full confrontation right here on the sidewalk.
"No, Mr. Han. I'm not doing anything. I just asked Gyeongjae to give me a ride home, but he rejected me."
"And that man?" Jiseok pointed his chin deliberately toward Min-Hyuk.
"He's one of my… co-workers. He's a model. I applied as a stylist and designer, remember?"
Jiseok stared down at Yeonho, his expression entirely calm but dangerously cold, clearly not buying a single word escaping his mistress's lips.
"You don't need to lie. Are you planning to sleep with him too?"
"No! Mr. Han, please, can't we just go? I'm exhausted."
Jiseok's gaze shifted past Yeonho, exchanging a sharp, venomous look with Gyeongjae.
Yeonho knew Jiseok despised Gyeongjae ever since the night Yeonho had slept with him.
Standing to the side, Min-Hyuk found the entire situation intensely suffocating.
The air was thick with an unspoken, dark history he couldn't decipher, but his eyes tracked the older man's hand, which was gripping Yeonho's waist with tightness.
Realizing Yeonho was genuinely entangled with this powerhouse, Min-Hyuk stepped forward with intent.
"Good evening, sir. I didn't catch your name. I heard one of your men call Yeonho 'Mistress.' Is he…"
Min-Hyuk purposely trailed off, but Gyeongjae filled the silence instantly, his voice dripping with venom.
"Yeonho is the mistress of Mr. Han Jiseok. And his name is Han Jiseok."
The delivery was purely provocative, and Min-Hyuk gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.
'Fuck! Gyeongjae, you absolute idiot, don't provoke Mr. Han! Goddamnit!'
Yeonho wanted to scream right in Gyeongjae's face. Jiseok's mood could turn bad at a moment, and Yeonho didn't want to stand here listening to them trade insults.
He was too hungry, too weak. If they started an outright war, he was ready to ditch them all and flag down the first taxi he saw just to crawl into his hotel room.
Just imagining the plush, soft mattress made his eyelids heavy. Shaking his head, Yeonho made a final play to placate the older man before Jiseok truly lost his temper.
"Mr. Han, please? Let's just leave. I feel like I'm going to pass out right here if I don't get some food and rest," he whispered, leaning his entire weight into Jiseok and hugging him affectionately.
Jiseok let out a heavy, ragged breath, his posture softening slightly at the display of dependency.
"Come. It's too cold out here."
Jiseok turned to lead him away, but the moment Yeonho took a step, Gyeongjae's fingers shot forward, clamping tightly around Yeonho's wrist.
Yeonho snapped his head back, his eyes darting from his trapped wrist up to Gyeongjae's face. "What?"
Jiseok paused, looking back just in time to see Gyeongjae violently rip Yeonho out of his arms.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jiseok's voice was deadly still.
"I'll take him home." Gyeongjae pulled Yeonho forcefully against his side. Yeonho's eyes darted frantically back and forth between the two.
"But you literally said no!" Yeonho hissed in a whisper, bewildered.
"I'm taking it back. You said you wanted to try riding a motorbike. I'm taking you home right now."
Yeonho simply blinked at Gyeongjae's sudden, aggressive reversal. Was this guy actually trying to act nice? He stared at Gyeongjae in stunned silence, his mind racing to analyze the shift.
"Let go of him…"
Jiseok's demeanor shifted entirely, turning so ominous and dark that Yeonho's breath hitched in his throat. The stillness radiating from the old man was terrifying.
The atmosphere was completely suffocating.
Desperate to prevent Jiseok from snapping and causing a scene, Yeonho aggressively wrenched his arm back.
The sheer force broke Gyeongjae's grip, but as Yeonho tried to stride forward toward to Jiseok, Gyeongjae lunged again, grabbing him firmly by the upper arm this time.
Yeonho glanced at Jiseok, whose eyes had turned entirely eerie and disturbing.
"I said let go of him, Mr. Woo." Jiseok walked directly toward Gyeongjae, his shadow completely engulfing them.
"I'm taking him home."
"Don't make me repeat myself. Let go of Yeonho."
"I'm not going to. I'll take him home."
Suddenly, Jiseok's hand shot out, firmly gripping Yeonho's other arm. In an instant, the security guards closed in, throwing their heavy hands onto Gyeongjae's shoulders and arms to pin him back.
"Let go, or I will take him by force," Jiseok warned, his voice vibrating with absolute authority.
Inside, Yeonho's chest tightened as panic flooded his system. His vision suddenly blurred around the edges, his breathing turning shallow and frantic.
'What is this… why does my head hurt so bad…?'
Yeonho looked down, trying to force his eyes to focus as Jiseok and Gyeongjae continued their aggressive tug-of-war.
Watching from the side, Min-Hyuk's eyes narrowed as he noticed Yeonho's complexion draining rapidly into a ghostly pale shade.
Yeonho tried to look up again, but a sharp, deafening ringing filled his ears.
The angry voices around him became warped and distorted, and the scenery began to flicker violently, his mind forcing a sudden, intrusive vision into his consciousness—a memory that felt entirely foreign yet deeply familiar.
Suddenly, a vivid flash of a memory consumed him.
.
.
.
An elegant, elderly woman with bright blonde hair was standing right beside him, her fingers wrapped around his small wrist with absolute gentleness.
Standing directly in front of them was a blurry, towering man dressed in a sharp luxury suit.
"I'll take him," the blurry man demanded, his voice echoing coldly.
"You won't, and you will never," the grandmother snapped back, pulling the young Yeonho securely against her side.
"This child deserves to be happy. You will only ruin him."
"I will take him by force if you don't hand him over right now."
"Then I dare you to try. You have absolutely no right to take my grandson away from me. Do you honestly think I'm afraid of you?"
Blinking heavily, Yeonho reached up with his free hand to rub his throbbing temples, entirely unaware that a dark drop of blood was beginning to slip from his nostril.
In the memory, he tried desperately to see the blurry man's face, then looked down at his own hands. They were tiny, delicate, and clearly belonged to a young child.
"Give him to me now while I am still being nice," the man commanded.
"Do not underestimate my power, young man," the grandmother ordered sternly.
He watched the past unfold as the old woman and the powerful man traded furious words until the surrounding details sharpened.
Servants and security guards lined the grand estate, their faces rigid. The maids looked utterly terrified, and Yeonho caught sight of one young maid who was on the verge of tears, gazing at him with profound sorrow.
The maid's lips moved, murmuring a silent message. Though no sound reached his ears, he could clearly read her lips through the fog of the memory:
"It's okay, I'm right here." She gave a small, reassuring nod, forcing a tragic smile.
A crushing weight settled over Yeonho's chest.
His throat tightened, burning from the sheer force of holding back a sudden surge of agonizing, raw emotion. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, entirely out of his control.
The memory was so profoundly vivid that the grief felt entirely real.
Then, with a sudden snap, the illusion shattered. He blinked rapidly, the grand estate vanishing into thin air as reality rushed back.
Jiseok was standing entirely too close now, practically chest-to-chest with Gyeongjae.
"Do you really want to test me?"
Yeonho's eyes widened in disorientation; a few seconds ago, Jiseok hadn't been that close.
"I sure as hell will," Gyeongjae scoffed, staring right back into Jiseok's eyes.
Jiseok let out a low, mocking chuckle.
On his cue, the bodyguards violently yanked Gyeongjae backward, though the younger man stubbornly refused to let go of Yeonho's arm.
"Mr. Han, calm down… I'll go with you. Gyeongjae, just let go…" Yeonho gasped out, a wave of intense dizziness washing over him.
Gyeongjae looked down at Yeonho, finally noticing his bloodless skin, pale lips, and the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.
"What's wrong with you? You look sick," Gyeongjae muttered, using his strength to shove the bodyguards away so he could step closer.
Min-Hyuk moved in rapidly from the other side, both of them suddenly examining Yeonho with intense scrutiny.
Jiseok's eyes narrowed, trying to read why both men had suddenly dropped their hostility to hover over his mistress.
"Get away from him," Jiseok commanded.
Just then, another security guard sprinted up to Jiseok, leaning in to whisper urgently into his ear. Both Gyeongjae and Min-Hyuk watched as Jiseok's expression hardened, a loud, irritated click of his tongue escaping his lips.
Despite the room spinning and his limbs growing heavier by the second, Yeonho forced himself to speak.
"Mr. Han…?"
"I have to leave. An urgent matter requires my immediate attention."
"You're leaving for Russia right now?" Yeonho tried hard to focus his blurry gaze.
"Yes, but make no mistake—I will have my eyes on you. Tomorrow, a member of my personal security team will move into your residence. They will be watching you at all times."
Shifting his gaze, Jiseok leveled a murderous, threatening glare at Gyeongjae and Min-Hyuk.
"I will overlook this exactly once. Take him home, but I am warning you both: do not do anything stupid."
"Wait, Mr. Han…" Yeonho tried to take a step toward him, but his knees felt entirely jelly.
Jiseok turned on his heel with hurried, tense strides, the veins in his neck and jaw pulsing with repressed rage.
'Shit… Mr. Han's pissed…'
All three of them watched in silence as Jiseok threw himself into the back of the sedan.
The driver slammed the door shut, and the convoy accelerated away into the dark night.
The moment the taillights vanished, Yeonho's legs gave out completely.
Moving with lightning reflexes, Gyeongjae lunged forward before Yeonho could hit the concrete, catching him securely in his arms.
"What's wrong? Yeonho!"
Gyeongjae brushed the loose blonde hair away from Yeonho's face, hoisting his weak body up against his chest.
Unconsciously, Yeonho lifted a hand to wipe his nose, then looked down at his fingers. They were stained bright red.
"Fuck…" Yeonho mumbled.
Gyeongjae noticed it immediately, his eyes locking onto the dark blood smudged across Yeonho's nose and upper lip.
"You're having a nosebleed."
"I know… Ahh, I feel so dizzy..."
Yeonho tried to push against Gyeongjae's chest with his weak arms, but his balance failed entirely, causing him to stumble right into Min-Hyuk's waiting grasp.
"You're covered in cold sweat," Min-Hyuk noted, his brow furrowing as he held him steady.
"What the hell is wrong with him? Gyeongjae, what's his condition?"
"I don't know, but he looks awful right now."
Both men stared down at Yeonho with uncharacteristic worry. Gyeongjae pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, gently wiping the blood from Yeonho's nose, while Min-Hyuk anchored him firmly from behind.
"Should we take him to a hospital?" Min-Hyuk asked.
Yeonho vigorously shook his head. Going to an emergency room without his heavy disguise would ruin everything instantly.
"No… just take me to my place."
Slowly, Yeonho forced himself to stand straight, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.
"I'll take you home. Stay here," Gyeongjae insisted, but Min-Hyuk cut him off immediately.
"Are you crazy? There's no way he can ride a bike like this. He's totally out of it. He might pass out and fall off. I'll take him in my car."
Gyeongjae opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. Without his disguise, Yeonho would be recognized instantly.
"He'll get caught. It's better if he comes with me."
Shrugging out of his heavy leather jacket, Gyeongjae carefully draped it over Yeonho's trembling shoulders.
"Wear this. I'll bring the bike around and you'll wear my helmet. That way, nobody can see your face."
Despite his fading energy, a weak, ironic giggle escaped Yeonho's lips.
"This is pure déjà vu…" Yeonho muttered, remembering how he had pulled the exact same trick on Gyeongjae before.
Gyeongjae jogged off, returning less than thirty seconds later as the deep roar of his heavy motorbike echoed through the empty park. Min-Hyuk didn't try to stop him this time.
With Gyeongjae's oversized helmet secured over his head, Yeonho settled onto the rear seat of the bike.
"Hold on tight, and don't you dare let go," Gyeongjae commanded over the rumble of the engine.
Yeonho wrapped his arms tightly around Gyeongjae's waist, melting forward to rest his heavy head against the broad, sturdy back.
The motorbike surged away from the park curb.
Min-Hyuk didn't head home; instead, he instructed his driver to tail them closely from a distance, unable to shake his concern for Yeonho.
It wasn't merely out of pity—he knew for a fact that Han Jiseok was a highly dangerous individual. The older man's vibe left a lingering chill in his bones.
And just like Min-Hyuk, Gyeongjae was on high alert, his instincts screaming. He had loathed Jiseok from the very beginning, and the chaotic display in the park only solidified his suspicion that the Jiseok was entirely abnormal.
He noticed that murderous look in Jiseok's eyes. While a normal person might dismiss it as mere possessive jealousy, Gyeongjae wasn't dense; he recognized the terrifying desire for absolute control over another human being.
It was a dark, suffocating trait—one far more extreme than anything he or the other men felt for Hana.
As the wind whipped past them on the way to the hotel, Yeonho's trembling body finally began to settle. He watched the blurred city lights flicker past, completely surrendering his exhausted, aching form against Gyeongjae's back.
Sensing the sudden softening of Yeonho's grip as the tension drained from his body, Gyeongjae let out a silent breath of relief. The rigid, combative Yeonho was finally relaxing completely in his arms.
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