Chapter 23-Part-1
The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Truth be told, Yeonho had been absolutely terrified. One second more and Gyeongjae really could have killed him right there.
The doorbell ringing had saved his life, plain and simple.
Gyeongjae slowly loosened his grip and pulled his hand away from Yeonho's neck, his expression still dark, every line of his face screaming unspent rage.
"You really should learn how to control your hands, Gyeongjae."
Yeonho gasped sharply, dragging air back into his burning lungs as he coughed lightly, fingers massaging the tender, stinging skin around his throat.
The pain was sharp at first, but it faded slowly, leaving only a dull ache and a faint mark as a reminder.
For a long moment, Gyeongjae said nothing at all. But Yeonho knew him well enough to read the frustration radiating off him in waves.
He was furious that their confrontation had been cut short, furious that something had interrupted him right when he had Yeonho exactly where he wanted him.
The doorbell rang again, loud and insistent, and Yeonho knew exactly who was waiting on the other side.
'Thank god… right on time, Mr. Han.'
As the last traces of pain ebbed away, he coughed one final time, cleared his throat to make sure his voice sounded steady.
Straightened up completely, his composure back in place like it had never been broken.
"Stay here. And behave yourself."
He ordered, standing tall, looking Gyeongjae right in the eye.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do—"
"You're in my house. Which means I am the one in control here."
Yeonho cut off, unbothered.
"If you want to leave, then go — I'm not stopping you. But if you choose to stay, don't you dare interrupt me, or do anything stupid. Got it?"
'I know you'll stay. You want answers too much to walk away now. I just know it.'
Gyeongjae fell silent again, jaw tight, looking like he wanted to argue but holding it back.
He had every intention of leaving earlier, yes — but now? Now there was no way he was walking out that door.
He still had too much to say, too much to demand, too many things he needed to make sense of.
As much as he hated to admit it, staying was the only choice he could make.
Yeonho saw the hesitation, the silent agreement, and a small, satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
"Good boy. Now… I'm going to open the door."
He reached out and tapped Gyeongjae's cheek lightly, patronizing and sweet, pleased that he'd listened for once.
He turned and walked toward the entrance, quickly running his fingers through his hair to smooth it down, checking his reflection out of habit to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.
But before he turned the doorknob, he glanced back over his shoulder, only to find Gyeongjae had already moved to sit on the sofa.
Watching his every move like a hawk, never taking his eyes off him for even a second.
'He really wants to know who's standing outside, huh? Fine then. I'll give you exactly what you want.'
He turned back and pulled the door open wide.
And there he was.
The old man himself, Han Jiseok, standing tall, refined, and radiating that heavy, undeniable aura of power that made everyone else around him feel small.
'You really can't deny it… this old man has such an incredible presence.'
Jiseok was dressed in a sharp, well-tailored suit, like he had come straight from work or was heading there right after this visit.
Behind him stood three large, silent bodyguards, each holding a plain paper bag.
"Hey there, Mr. Han. So glad you came to visit." Yeonho stepped aside, gesturing warmly for him to come inside.
Jiseok walked in, the bodyguards following close behind.
As Yeonho closed the door, Jiseok turned to face him, his voice low, cold, and deadly serious.
"Yeonho. Where is that man?"
He looked straight through him, gaze sharp and piercing.
"Right… you want to see him?" Yeonho smiled, stepping closer and slipping his arm easily through Jiseok's arm.
"Show me your so-called 'friend'." Jiseok commanded.
"Of course. He's in the living room, Mr. Han. Come with me."
He tugged gently on Jiseok's arm, leading him further inside, a wicked thrill running through him.
'Now… let me see what kind of reaction Gyeongjae makes when he sees you.'
Back in the living room, Gyeongjae was still waiting.
His gaze drifted idly over the low table in front of him, and he frowned slightly at what he saw scattered across it.
There were cosmetics — loose powder, lip gloss, a few other small products he didn't even recognize. And bottles of skincare lined up neatly beside them.
'What is all this? Is he actually using this stuff?'
He found himself wondering why a man like Yeonho would care so much about skincare.
But then his mind drifted back to last night, to the way Yeonho's skin had felt under his hands. So soft, so smooth, so incredibly pale and flawless, far softer and fairer than Hana's had ever been.
He was still distracted by the memory when he heard footsteps approaching, and Yeonho's voice, clear and bright, drifting closer and closer.
He sat up straight immediately, alert and tense, waiting — and then they appeared.
There was Yeonho, arm linked through the arm of a much older man.
The man was tall, handsome, refined, and carried himself with such an air of maturity, authority, and strictness that it made the whole room feel heavier just from his presence.
"Gyeongjae, come here." Yeonho called out, gesturing for him to step closer. "Let me introduce you properly."
Gyeongjae stood up from the sofa and walked over, stopping right next to Yeonho, so that all three of them stood close together, face to face.
"Mr. Han, this is my friend…Gyeongjae."
'Choi Yeonho… you really just called me your friend? What the hell are you up to now?'
His eyes locked onto the older man's face, Mr. Han, that was the name Yeonho had used.
And the look he got back was anything but friendly. It was sharp, cold, assessing, and incredibly hostile.
It was odd. Very odd. Gyeongjae didn't look away, holding the older man's gaze steadily, while Yeonho continued speaking.
"Gyeongjae, This is Mr. Han . He's my…"
Yeonho trailed off abruptly, glancing up at Jiseok, his expression suddenly hesitant, like he couldn't quite find the right word.
"Well… Mr. Han is… uhm… well… Ahh…" He laughed softly, sounding almost helpless, like he was struggling to explain.
"He's your what, Yeonho? Why'd you stop?"
Gyeongjae stepped a little closer, casually resting his hand heavy and obvious on Yeonho's shoulder, acting far too friendly, far too familiar.
And right then, he caught it. The cold, piercing glare that flashed across Jiseok's eyes, sharp enough to cut glass.
'Hmmm… interesting reaction.'
The old man's expression was controlled, subtle, like he was used to hiding his feelings.
But Gyeongjae saw it. He felt it. There was pure, unmistakeable negativity radiating from him, thick with jealousy and possession.
Yeonho cleared his throat loudly, cutting through the heavy silence.
Gyeongjae watched his eyes dart back and forth, clearly avoiding meeting his gaze directly.
He had thought Yeonho was hesitating because he didn't know what to call his relationship with Jiseok — but what he said next caught both Yeonho and Jiseok completely off guard, freezing them in place.
"Why hesitate? Don't you know exactly what you are to Mr. Han Jiseok? It almost seems like you two aren't all that close at all, Yeonho."
He pressed on, sharp and curious, watching their faces closely for any reaction.
Again he caught it — that same flicker of cold disdain he'd seen earlier in Jiseok's eyes.
He waited for Yeonho to reply, but the younger man stayed dead silent, saying nothing at all.
'Seems like you aren't so confident after all, Choi Yeonho.'
Or at least that was what Gyeongjae thought — until Jiseok spoke instead.
He pulled Yeonho tight against his waist, pressing their bodies side by side in a clear, possessive claim.
"Mistress. Yeonho is my mistress, young man. Does that answer your question clearly enough?"
Jiseok smiled, but there was nothing friendly or warm about it.
Hearing him say it so plainly left Gyeongjae completely confused.
For a second he wondered if his head was still hazy and messed up from the drug's lingering effects, if he had misheard somehow.
Even though the way Jiseok held Yeonho so close was already proof enough, he asked again anyway, unable to believe it.
"Mistress? Are you seriously saying Choi Yeonho is your mistress?"
His gaze darted back and forth between the two of them, utterly bewildered. It didn't make sense at all — how could Yeonho be in that kind of relationship with a man so much older than him?
Jiseok let out a low chuckle, unbothered and completely in control.
"Yes. You heard me perfectly well the first time. Yeonho is my mistress."
He pulled Yeonho even closer to his side, making sure there was absolutely no space left between them.
As he watched them, Gyeongjae felt a wave of pure disgust rise up inside him. To think Yeonho had lowered himself down to this kind of level… He looked at him with open revulsion, unable to hide what he felt.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier by the second, the air turning sharp and fierce as the two men stared each other down, neither backing away.
He hated the way Jiseok looked at him, hated the way he held Yeonho so tightly in his arms. He felt repulsed by both of them, by the whole situation.
Yeonho finally stepped in, clapping his hands lightly and clearing his throat in an exaggerated way to break the tension between them.
"Ehem! That's right, Gyeongjae. I'm his mistress. He's my partner."
"Is that so?" Gyeongjae nodded slowly, acting like he was fully convinced, even though he was anything but it.
"Whatever then. Now that you two know each other… Umm, Mr. Han?"
Yeonho looked up at Jiseok, tugging lightly at his wrist to get his attention.
"Hm? What is it?" Jiseok's cold, sharp eyes turned away from Gyeongjae instantly, softening just a little the second they landed on Yeonho.
"I see you brought food. Can I eat it now?" Yeonho pointed toward the paper bags still held by the bodyguards standing behind Jiseok.
"Of course, dear. I brought it knowing full well you can't cook anything decent yourself. Can't have you ruining your hands or hurting yourself trying."
Jiseok turned around and gave a sharp order to his men.
"Prepare Yeonho's lunch. Do it fast."
The bodyguards nodded and immediately moved toward the kitchen to set everything up.
Gyeongjae just stood there, watching silently as Yeonho and Jiseok talked back and forth like he wasn't even in the room at all.
"Thanks Mr. Han… I've been absolutely starving."
Yeonho slipped easily out of Jiseok's hold and flopped down onto the soft sofa cushions, looking completely at ease. "You can eat with me too if you want."
"Not this time. I have work to get to after this." Jiseok adjusted his tie smoothly, unbothered.
"Alright then, if you say so." Yeonho shrugged his shoulders casually.
They carried on their conversation like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Jiseok followed Yeonho over to the sofa and sat down right next to him, not even glancing Gyeongjae's way once, treating him like he was invisible.
Now he was left standing there alone, completely out of place.
He didn't like it one bit. He stepped forward quickly and sat down on Yeonho's other side, so that Yeonho was now sitting right in the middle of both men, trapped between them.
"So… when exactly did you become his partner, Yeonho?" He asked suddenly, looking between them with feigned ease.
"Some time ago. Why?" Yeonho leaned back comfortably against the sofa, his eyes on Gyeongjae.
"Nothing… just curious, that's all."
Curious indeed. He wanted to know exactly when Yeonho had met Jiseok, how long this arrangement had been going on, and what exactly it meant.
But he held the questions back — if he kept pressing too much, he would only look suspicious himself.
'Why do I even need to know anyway?'
He kept telling himself it was just the leftover effects of the drug messing with his head, even though he knew deep down the drug had worn off completely long ago.
It wasn't just some substance clouding his mind — it was everything about Yeonho that was messing him up, turning his thoughts upside down.
A little while later, Yeonho stood up and excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to eat.
But he didn't go alone — Jiseok stood up right after him, following close behind as they walked away together.
Once again, Gyeongjae was left sitting all by himself.
It felt suspicious. Were they trying to keep him away on purpose? Did they want some kind of private moment together?
Logically, he knew it was only natural they would want time alone.
But even so… Gyeongjae couldn't help the burning curiosity that ate at him, desperate to know what they were saying, what they were doing, and exactly what kind of relationship they really had.