Chapter 42
Gyeongjae got up first, wearing nothing but the towel slung low on his waist.
He swung the front door open to find the hotel staff waiting in the corridor.
There were four of them—three women and one man—navigating a pair of massive carts stacked with breakfast dishes. The group offered a collective bow, their rehearsed greetings instantly faltering the moment they registered Gyeongjae standing before them nearly naked.
"G-Good morning, Mr. Woo," one of the female employees stammered, her head dropping fast to hide her racing pulse. The others followed suit, keeping their eyes glued strictly to the carpet to avoid eye contact.
"Bring it all inside." Gyeongjae stepped back, granting them entry before closing the heavy door. But as the staff started toward the main living space, he stepped forward, cutting off their path.
"Wait. Stay right here. Don't move until I call you."
He walked past them into the living room. Yeonho wasn't wearing a disguise, and letting the staff wander in on him would ruin his secrecy instantly.
"What's the hold-up?" Yeonho looked up from the sofa as Gyeongjae approached.
"My staff is here. You don't have a disguise on. Put something on or cover yourself."
Yeonho leaned back against the cushions, entirely unbothered. "I don't want to. I'm inside my own house, why should I hide?"
"You were the one complaining about getting caught."
"Then do something about it. They're your employees, aren't they?"
Freya stood up from her seat, her gaze shifting between the two.
"May I ask what's happening?"
"You see, Freya, everyone in Korea hates my beautiful face," Yeonho sighed dramatically, turning his head toward her.
"The moment they see me, they get bitter, aggressive, and hostile. They've even resorted to threatening me."
Freya's expression instantly twisted into sharp, indignant anger.
"That is absurd. You are far more beautiful and gorgeous than any woman or human I have ever encountered, Mistress. Hating you out of pure envy is pathetic."
Standing right beside her, Carl looked equally dark, his entire frame rigidifying.
"Do not worry, Mistress. I will protect you no matter what. It is my responsibility to keep you safe." He turned, stepping directly toward the entryway.
Yeonho offered satisfied grin. He had almost forgotten how intensely Jiseok's personal staff took their duties. He stood up, enjoying the treatment.
"I'll take care of the food," Freya added, bowing slightly as she prepared to take over. "We will settle everything in the kitchen. Once the area is completely clear, I will come find you, Mistress."
"Sure. We'll be upstairs waiting." Yeonho wrapped his fingers around Gyeongjae's wrist, pulling him toward the steps.
"Let's go."
Freya watched the Yeonho drag Gyeongjae up the stairs, then gave Carl an all-clear nod.
Carl immediately guided the hotel employees forward, pushing the carts into the living room before stopping near Freya.
"I will be assisting with the breakfast preparation," Freya announce.
"My Mistress is unwell and requires a very careful eye on her food. Follow me this way."
She marched straight into the kitchen, with Carl monitoring the rear.
The hotel employees moved with practiced ease, quickly matching Freya's strict pace as they began transferring plates and bowls to the table.
Freya inspected every single item, checking for anything that might trigger a negative reaction in Yeonho's fragile system.
Back in Russia, Freya had handled every single meal whenever Yeonho suffered a physical collapse—especially during those dark periods when he fought his mental crisis attempting suicide and refused to touch food for an entire week.
Remembering how weak and desperate Yeonho had been back then brought a wave of sadness, but she quickly pushed the thought away to focus on her work.
"Remove that dry fish," Freya ordered sharply. "My Mistress does not tolerate anything overly dry or pungent."
"Yes, ma'am," a female employee nodded quickly, transferring the seasoned dried fish back to the discard cart.
"What is this one?" Freya pointed to a covered porcelain bowl.
Another female employee, who had long black hair cut into straight bangs, stepped forward.
"That's ginger soup, ma'am. It's an herbal blend meant to improve blood circulation."
Freya immediately shook her head.
"Take it away. While it assists with blood pressure, it will trigger his acid reflux. For someone with an incredibly low blood volume, widening the vessels will only cause severe dizziness. He'll pass out all over again."
The hotel staff exchanged surprised glances. Freya's knowledge of Yeonho's medical history was incredibly precise, making it obvious that the person upstairs possessed a remarkably volatile body.
Working quickly, the staff sorted through the rest of the meal. Within three minutes, two full carts were loaded with rejected dishes that weren't needed.
The employee with the straight bangs offered to wheel the discarded carts out to the service hallway. Carl stepped forward to take the handles, but she politely insisted on doing it herself.
"Jihi, take this plate too. We're down to the last cart," the male staff handed her a final dish while giving her a subtle, suspicious look.
"I'll leave these two carts outside and come right back," Jihi said, nodding slightly as she began rolling the wheels out of the kitchen.
The moment she cleared the kitchen doorway, Jihi slowed her pace, her eyes darting across the open living area.
"Now where could they be…?" she mumbled.
Movement on the second floor caught her attention. A figure was moving quietly down the upper hallway. Jihi quickly crouched behind the large sofa, shielding herself from view as she watched the blonde person descend the stairs.
"Blonde hair… that's the one Mr. Woo was carrying last night," she whispered to herself.
She watched intensely as the blonde walked into the empty living room, approached a designer shopping bag left near the long sofa, and snatched it up.
Jihi strained her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the face, but the long strands completely covered it. The blonde turned and moved back up the stairs with fast, hurried steps.
Once the figure vanished, Jihi checked behind her to ensure no one was following from the kitchen. Leaving the carts abandoned, she slipped toward the staircase and quietly crept up to the second floor.
She reached the upper corridor, looking back and forth down the split hallway.
Trusting her gut, she tiptoed toward the right wing—a secluded section further away from the main stairs that led directly to the master bedroom.
Jihi approached the door, which had been left slightly open.
"You shouldn't have gone downstairs. Or did you actually want to get caught?"
Gyeongjae's distinct voice filtered through the narrow gap.
Jihi pressed closer, her eyes locking onto the space. "That's Mr. Woo," she breathed.
Gyeongjae was standing near the bed, still topless with the towel low on his waist. Her focus instantly shifted to the blonde person facing him.
"You needed the clothes. Why are you being so paranoid?" The blonde countered, tossing the shopping bag onto the mattress.
"Besides, did you expect me to let you walk around my place completely naked all morning?"
"No... but you said you didn't want to get caught."
"And you're overreacting. You've been acting completely weird since last night," Yeonho said, stepping directly into Gyeongjae's space.
"Honestly, I like it."
Gyeongjae's jaw tightened. "You wanted my attention, Yeonho. I'm giving it to you."
"Then keep going. Oh, and about earlier—Freya just made a mistake. She doesn't know that I'm completely done working as a prostitute."
Gyeongjae's posture turned completely rigid.
"So the rumors were true. You actually slept with many men."
"I sure do." The blonde was completely unbotherd by the confession.
Gyeongjae's fists clenched at his sides, the veins along his forearms and jaw flaring with a sudden, violent anger. Jihi watched from the crack, stunned by the hostility radiating from Gyeongjae.
"Hey, say something. Or are you actually imagining me taking other dicks besides you?"
The blonde taunted, his arms sliding up to lock behind Gyeongjae's neck.
"Aww, look at you. Are you actually jealous, Gyeongjae-ah?"
Gyeongjae didn't push him away. He stood perfectly still, his eyes boring into The blonde's face with intense fury.
Jihi widened her eyes from the closeness, but she was more surprised that Gyeongjae didn't push the blonde away and just stood there.
"Wanna know something?"
"What?"
"I'm way more filthy than you expected. I'll gladly call a man certain names just to turn them on." Yeonho leaned up, his tongue dragging slowly against the skin of Gyeongjae's neck before biting down hard, leaving a dark, undeniable mark against his throat.
Gyeongjae let out a ragged breath, his muscles locking as he fought to hold back his temper.
"Wanna hear me try and call you something?"
Jihi pushed the door a fraction of an inch further to clear her line of sight.
"No." Gyeongjae said flatly, he reached out to grab the fresh bag of clothes from the bed, but Yeonho tightened his grip around his neck, pulling him down.
"Come on, darling. Don't ignore me."
Gyeongjae went entirely still.
"What did you just call me?"
"I know you heard me," The blonde giggled seductively.
"Say it again." Gyeongjae put down the bag.
Instead of answering, the blonde slowly looked down, his hands trailing the exposed cuts Gyeongjae's abs to the abdomen, traveling lower, pressing his palm on the hardened cock underneath the towel.
"Look at you," Yeonho mocked, his voice dropping into a teasing whisper.
"You're completely hard, darling."
The provocation shattered Gyeongjae's restraint.
Grabbing Yeonho by the shoulders, Gyeongjae violently forced him down onto the floor, pinning him against the carpet, hovering over him as he slammed his lips down in a punishing, aggressive kiss.
Yeonho met the assault instantly, his hands gripping Gyeongjae's back as Gyeongjae reached under the silk shirt, his fingers pinching Yeonho's pink sensitive nipple with brutal force.
"Mhgn—! Gyeongjae…" Yeonho whimpered, his back arching off the floor as Gyeongjae completely devoured his lips.
Jihi didn't waste a second. She pulled her smartphone from her apron pocket, turning on the camera and recording the entire encounter through the gap in the door.
As the movements between the two men turned frantic, Yeonho's blonde hair fell away from his face. Gyeongjae reached up, pinning Yeonho's hair back against the carpet to hold him still.
Jihi zoomed the lens in, capturing Yeonho's face clearly on the screen. She knew exactly what this footage was worth.
"Ms. Choi will be furious…" Jihi whispered to herself.
"Who exactly is going to be furious?"
Jihi froze. She slowly looked up, her heart dropping as she found Carl standing directly behind her in the secluded hallway.
"No, please—!"
Carl cut her off instantly, driving the edge of his hand into the back of her neck. Jihi's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed unconsciously onto the floor.
Inside the master bedroom, the physical friction had turned entirely intense.
Gyeongjae's mouth moved down Yeonho's neck to his chest, biting and sucking at his skin while Yeonho gasped, his fingers tangled tightly in Gyeongjae's white hair.
"Gyeongjae… hngh, That feels good..."
Gyeongjae pulled back up, forcing his tongue deep into Yeonho's mouth to stifle the noise.
His left hand slid down the waist of Yeonho's silk shorts, his fingers wrapping around Yeonho's hardened length, delivering a sharp, rhythmic squeeze.
Yeonho cried out into the kiss, his chest heaving against Gyeongjae's bare skin.
Gyeongjae's fingers slid lower, tracing the tight skin down to Yeonho's entrance, pressing a blunt finger firmly against the opening.
"Ungh… put it inside, Gyeongjae. fill me up.
I want it," Yeonho whined, his hips twitching desperately against the floor as Gyeongjae tugged the shorts completely out of the way, exposing Yeonho's standing cock and the pink, invite hole.
"Yeonho…" Gyeongjae panted, his voice completely cracked and husky as he positioned his finger to slide inside.
THUD!
The heavy sound from the hallway echoed clearly through the door frame. Gyeongjae stopped instantly, his head snapping toward the entrance.
"…Gyeongjae?" Yeonho panted, his blue eyes hazy with lust.
"Someone's outside." Gyeongjae shifted his weight, sitting back and pulling Yeonho up with him.
"What? Outside? Don't tell me…" Yeonho scrambled to his feet, quickly pulling his silk pajamas back into place and smoothing his tangled blonde hair to the side.
He marched toward the door with aggressive steps.
Gyeongjae reached into the shopping bag on the bed, pulling out the fresh pair of pants his guard had brought up. Sliding his legs into them, he buttoned them quickly—it was better to face an intrusion in proper trousers than standing in a loose towel.
The moment Yeonho threw the bedroom door open, his eyes fell on the female hotel employee sprawled face-down on the carpet. Carl stood over her, his expression completely blank.
"What the hell happened here?"
Carl offered a respectful bow. "Forgive the interruption, Mistress. But this woman was actively spying and filming a video of you."
He held out Jihi's smartphone, displaying the active recording screen.
Yeonho grabbed the device, his eyes turning incredibly cold as his teeth ground together in pure fury.
Gyeongjae stepped out of the bedroom, coming to a halt directly behind Yeonho's shoulder.
"What's going on? What's this?"
Yeonho whipped his head around, his face twisted with rage as he glared at Gyeongjae.
Gyeongjae was the one who had ordered breakfast and called his personal hotel staff up to this exact floor. Was this the play all along? Pretending to show a bit of concern just to orchestrate an exposure trap and ruin him?
Feeling betrayed, he violently stepped back, putting distance between them.
"Your staff was filming us making out. What the fuck is wrong with your employees, Gyeongjae? Did you arrange this? Are you trying to expose me?! Was that entire nice guy act fake, you fucking asshole?"
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