Chapter 51
Back in the studio, Min-hyuk stood with Mr. Jang and the rest of the production crew, analyzing the final shots displayed on the high-definition monitor.
The results were flawless—easily some of the finest work Min-hyuk had ever seen in his career.
Yeonho possessed an uncanny instinct not just for styling, but for commanding the lens. He had completely transformed the atmosphere of the shoot.
Min-hyuk hadn't anticipated the collaboration turning out this spectacular, let alone shattering his expectations so entirely.
"Mr. Kang looks absolutely perfect in these frames. The public is going to lose their minds over this, especially the dual shots with Mr. Choi," the art director remarked, leaning over the console to verify that the lighting and shadows aligned seamlessly with the brand's identity.
"Their chemistry on camera is insane," the digital tech chimed in, zooming in to adjust the exposure settings, fine-tuning the focus, and ensuring the image quality was completely crisp.
"If we keep this duo together, they could easily pull Model of the Year."
Satisfied with the final look, Min-hyuk excused himself from the crew.
As he navigated the long, industrial corridors back toward his private dressing room, he stopped.
From a distance, he spotted a very familiar silhouette cornering Yeonho outside the door.
'Seungjo? What's he doing here?'
Remembering that Seungjo was likely on-site to handle his business Min-hyuk quickened his pace.
Inside the dressing room, Yeonho was slouched on the leather couch, casually scrolling through his phone.
He typed out a quick notification to his streaming audience about his upcoming schedule, completely ignoring the towering, hostile presence of the man sitting across from him while he waited for Min-hyuk to return.
But Seungjo wasn't a man to be ignored. He was persistent.
"Start talking, or I'll physically drag you out of this building," Seungjo demanded, his voice dropping into a low, threatening register.
"Ugh," Yeonho groaned, not even looking up from his screen. "I told you to wait. Can't you see I'm waiting for Min-hyuk?"
"Min-hyuk…" Seungjo's eyes narrowed into slits. "So you two orchestrated this little stunt together."
Yeonho sat up straight, tossing his phone onto the table and raising an eyebrow at the blatant accusation.
"Okay, let's skip the stupid assumptions, shall we? I had absolutely nothing to do with the delay or whatever happened. I'm Min-hyuk's stylist, and I stepped in as an emergency replacement model. That's it."
"I don't believe you"
"Then maybe you should go question whoever runs security for this building," Yeonho snapped back.
"Do a little actual investigation before you throw accusations right in my face."
Seungjo didn't flinch. He just leaned forward, his sharp gaze cutting into Yeonho, trying to read the smaller man's true objective.
Knock. Knock.
The heavy tension in the room instantly evaporated as Carl unlocked and opened the door from the outside.
The second Min-hyuk stepped inside, Yeonho's entire demeanor shifted, his sharp edges melting into a soft, welcoming expression.
"Min-hyuk! How did the previews look? Were they good?" Yeonho asked, abandoning his phone on the table entirely.
"Yeah, the crew is obsessed. It turned out way better than I expected," Min-hyuk replied. He walked straight over to the couch and sat down right next to Yeonho, his posture completely relaxed.
Seungjo went rigid, his eyes tracking Min-hyuk's casual movements with growing suspicion.
"Can you loosen my corset a little bit?" Yeonho murmured, shifting slightly, turning his back toward Min-hyuk.
"I can barely breathe in this thing."
"You're not changing back?" Min-hyuk asked.
"No." Yeonho picked up a hand mirror from the vanity, inspecting his angles and dramatic makeup.
"Is it okay if I take this piece home today?"
"Sure. Mr. Jang won't mind, but you'll have to return it." Min-hyuk's large hand moved naturally to Yeonho's back, his fingers deftly pulling at the laced strings to slacken the tight corset.
"I can just buy it outright, don't worry," Yeonho said, setting the mirror back down with a faint smile.
"If you say so…"
Watching the fluid, incredibly familiar conversation play out in front of him, Seungjo felt irritated.
The dynamic between them was entirely wrong. Min-hyuk was acting completely normal—way too casual, way too comfortable.
More than that, the heavy, intimate atmosphere radiating between them was bothering him.
They were close. Way too close.
He saw the subtle, lingering brush of Min-hyuk's fingers against Yeonho's skin as he adjusted the wardrobe.
Min-hyuk was supposed to loathe the very ground Yeonho walked on.
Everyone knew about Yeonho's rotten personality. They were supposed to be repulsed by him.
But as he kept watching them, the sharp buzz of a ringtone broke the silence. Yeonho reached for his phone, and the name that came past his lips only made Seungjo's suspicions skyrocket.
"Gyeongjae? Why are you calling?"
Seungjo's expression turned utterly glacial.
First Min-hyuk, now Gyeongjae...
Before Yeonho could even press the phone to his ear, Min-hyuk reached over and snatched the device directly from his hand, quickly hitting the speaker button while Yeonho fruitlessly lunged to grab it back.
"Look who's checking in. It's Gyeongjae," Min-hyuk chuckled into the microphone, his tone teasing.
"What's up? Are you calling to check on Yeonho?"
From the line, Gyeongjae's deep voice crackled through the speaker.
[Why the hell are you two together?]
"We had a massive crisis at the shoot, so I called Yeonho in to save the day as a replacement model," Min-hyuk explained, slinging an arm casually over the back of the couch behind Yeonho.
"Don't worry, he's totally fine."
[Isn't he supposed to be resting?]
Gyeongjae's tone sharpened, a clear note of protectiveness cutting through the static.
[He's sick.]
"I am not sick! I'm completely fine! Give me that!" Yeonho yelled, finally throwing his weight forward to yank the phone out of Min-hyuk's grasp.
[Where are you right now?] Gyeongjae pressed, ignoring the outburst.
[I'm coming to get you.]
Before Yeonho could even utter the studio's address, Seungjo finally reached his breaking point.
He cut in, his voice cutting through them, while Min-hyuk covertly took out his own phone from his pocket, typing a rapid text to send Gyeongjae their exact location.
"The three of you," Seungjo hissed, his eyes flicking between Min-hyuk and Yeonho.
"You're planning something."
On the other end of the line, Gyeongjae went dead silent. He recognized that voice instantly.
[.....]
"Are you three running some sick scheme behind Hana's back?" Seungjo demanded, stepping closer to the coffee table.
"No, we're absolutely not," Yeonho lied smoothly, forcing a sweet, entirely innocent smile onto his face as he glared at Min-hyuk, who was currently covering his mouth to hide his laughter.
"We're just… hanging out. Like friends."
Min-hyuk let out a low snort. No friends gave each other blowjobs or actively seduced each other behind closed doors, but he kept his mouth shut.
"That's hilarious"
"Nothing about this is funny, Min-hyuk," Yeonho muttered under his breath, driving his elbow sharply into Min-hyuk's ribs to force him to shut up.
He kept his smile firmly locked on Seungjo, but when he glanced down at his screen, the line had already gone dead.
Gyeongjae had hung up without a single word.
'Weird…' Yeonho thought, a faint knot tightening in his stomach.
Miles away at the corporate headquarters, Gyeongjae slammed his phone onto the passenger seat of his car, already heading out of the executive parking garage.
He knew exactly where Min-hyuk's current studio layout was located.
Within minutes, his car screeched to a halt by the curb of the studio building. He stormed past the front desk, demanding a staff member point him toward the private dressing rooms—completely unaware that on his way up, he was about to collide with someone he didn't expected to see.
Meanwhile, back in the dressing room, Yeonho felt like he was being interrogated by a federal prosecutor.
Sure, Seungjo was undeniably hot—he had that perfect, lethal upper- build just like Gyeongjae and Min-hyuk—but his persistent, arrogant questioning was scraping raw against Yeonho's nerves.
To make matters worse, Min-hyuk found the entire situation highly entertaining, remaining completely silent and letting Yeonho squirm.
"Look," Yeonho sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Like I said, and like Min-hyuk literally told Gyeongjae on the phone, I'm working here as a professional stylist. He had an emergency, he called me in, and he was the one who suggested to the production lead that I act as the substitute model. The crew can back me up."
"I'm not asking about the shoot. I already verified that issue," Seungjo said coldly, leaning back against the cushions and crossing his legs.
"Then why do you keep asking me?"
"To make sure you're not lying."
"Seriously…?" Yeonho rolled his eyes.
"Look, if you have questions, ask them. But I want answers too. Let's trade."
He tried to negotiate, but Seungjo shot him down instantly. "I refuse."
"Fine, I'll just be completely honest with you," Yeonho said, leaning forward and resting his chin on his steepled fingers.
"I only came back to Korea because my partner has businesses here. We're staying in Seoul for a couple of months, and then I'm gone."
"Partner?" Seungjo repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.
"Yes. My partner."
A suffocating silence descended on the dressing room as the two men locked eyes.
Seungjo let out a short, mocking chuckle, his expression showing with utter disdain.
"Ridiculous. Who in their right mind would ever want to be tied to someone as pathetic and ruined as you?"
The words hit the room like a physical blow.
Min-hyuk's smile vanished, his gaze turning sharp, but before he could intervene, Yeonho's face went completely still. His blue eyes hardened into solid ice, glaring at Seungjo with an unbothered, lethal intensity.
Slowly, a dark, feline grin spread across Yeonho's lips.
The sudden, chilling shift in his aura caught Seungjo completely off guard.
"Ridiculous? Pathetic?" Yeonho purred, tilting his head to the side, his tone laced with absolute malice.
"I think you're underestimating me, Seungjo. You really want to find out exactly who's willing to crawl into bed with me?"
"Suit yourself " Seungjo challenged, entirely blind to the trap he was walking into.
"Watch me, and then think about your words very carefully, Seungjo."
Yeonho shifted his weight on the leather cushions, his eyes locking onto the man sitting right next to him. "Hey, Min-hyuk…"
"Yeah?" Min-hyuk turned his head, his brow slightly raised.
Without giving him a syllable of warning,
Yeonho grabbed the collar of Min-hyuk's designer jacket and crashed their lips together with brutal force.
"You—" Seungjo paused out, his voice dying in his throat.
Yeonho didn't just kiss him—he straddled Min-hyuk's lap, climbing entirely onto his thighs, asserting complete dominance as he kissed him with an aggressive, possessive hunger.
Min-hyuk's eyes widened in brief shock, but the moment Yeonho forced his tongue past his lips, pure, primal instinct took over. Min-hyuk's large hands locked onto Yeonho's narrow waist, pulling his hips flush against his own.
The quiet dressing room was suddenly filled with the heavy, wet sounds of their mouths moving together.
The temperature in the room skyrocketed in an instant, the friction of their bodies sending a thick wave of heat through the small space.
Seungjo sat frozen in absolute shock, forced to watch the vivid, graphic intimacy play out right in front of his eyes.
"What kind of depraved nonsense is this?!"
Seungjo finally roared, his face flushing with fury as his hands turned into a fist.
"The two of you—have you completely lost your minds doing this right in front of me?!"
But he was ignored.
Min-hyuk's hand slid up to the nape of Yeonho's neck, his fingers tangling in Yeonho's hair as he reversed their positions, pressing Yeonho down against the cushions of the couch without breaking the kiss for a single breath.
Min-hyuk's free hand moves to Yeonho's back, finding the loosened strings of the corset and shoving the fabric aside, his fingers sliding aggressively over the bare skin of Yeonho's chest.
Without warning, Min-hyuk pinched sharply down on Yeonho's right nipple.
The sudden wave of intense friction made Yeonho's back arch violently off the couch, a gasping yelp tearing from his throat, muffled heavily by Min-hyuk's invading mouth.
"—Mmph! Fwah… hah…"
Yeonho gasped for air the moment Min-hyuk finally broke the contact, leaving a thin trail of saliva connecting their lips.
Pulling back just an inch, Min-hyuk looked down at the flushed boy beneath him, his dark eyes burning with a heavy, dangerous desire.
"Hold on… I don't remember giving you permission to tear my clothes off…"
"But you kissed me back," Min-hyuk murmured, his voice husky, his fingers lingering on Yeonho's skin.
"You should know exactly what kind of man I am by now."
Yeonho's chest heaved as he fought to regain his composure.
Maybe he had pushed the boundary a bit too far, but it didn't matter.
He had achieved exactly what he wanted. He wanted to show this raw, unfiltered side of Min-hyuk right in front of Seungjo—to prove that the very man who supposedly worshipped Hana was more than willing to degrade himself, touch him, and ruin himself over her supposedly ruined twin brother.
The body of the original owner was a curse, but in moments like this, Yeonho knew exactly how to weaponize its dangerous allure.
He cast a sideways glance toward Seungjo, the thick veins on his neck and jaw pulsing violently as he fought to restrain his explosive temper.
"See?" Yeonho panted, using his hands to push Min-hyuk back just enough to sit up, adjusting his disheveled top.
"This man right here is perfectly willing to sleep with me. Because I'm incredible in bed. Does that answer your question, Seungjo?"
The sheer look of absolute loathing on Seungjo's face was all the validation Yeonho needed.
"So you're just a pair of disgusting parasites toying with Hana's feelings," Seungjo spat out, his voice shaking with venomous rage.
"You're sleeping together behind her back. Tell me, Min-hyuk, have you finally given up on her? Because if you have, you need to stay away from her permanently."
Min-hyuk slowly slid off the couch, smoothing down his jacket with a completely relaxed, mocking grin.
"That's rich coming from a hypocrite like you, Seungjo. Weren't you the one who had that sweet, innocent little girlfriend? The one you cast aside the very second you laid eyes on Hana?"
Seungjo's jaw locked.
"Are we really bringing up the past right now?"
"Sure, why not?" Min-hyuk challenged, stepping between Seungjo and the couch, his posture turning entirely lethal.
"Unlike you, Hana knows exactly what I am. She knows I'm a flirt and that I sleep around. But you?.... Don't you think Hana would be sad if she found out the truth about your little ex girlfriend?"
"Is that a threat?" Seungjo hissed, his hand instantly diving into his suit pocket.
"Because I promise you, neither Hana nor the Choi family are going to be happy when they receive a word that you've been messing around with him."
The atmosphere turned volatile. Seungjo's fingers were already wrapping around his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen.
"I'm not scared ," Min-hyuk growled, matching his step.
"Go ahead. Play the loyal little guard dog you are."
Both men were completely provoked, their egos and buried resentments blinding them as they prepared to utterly destroy each other's leverage.
Their minds were entirely consumed by their obsessions with Hana and the power dynamics of the Choi family.
But for Yeonho, the sight of that phone sent a jolt of terror.
If Seungjo actually called Hana or his biological father right now, his entire plan would shatter.
He wouldn't even survive to see the next event, let alone his upcoming birthday.
He knew with absolute certainty that the moment Hana realized he had returned to Korea, she would use every resource at her disposal to make him vanish permanently.
She would frame him again—just like she did at the gala.
The horrific fragments of that morning—the flashing cameras, the smell of sweat, the weight of those faceless men—came roaring back into his consciousness like a tidal wave.
'No… please, not again… I can't go back to that dark room…'
While Seungjo's thumb began tapping furiously against his screen, Yeonho's body moved on pure, adrenaline-fueled panic.
He lunged across the space, his fingers desperately tearing at Seungjo's wrist to snatch the phone away.
"Get your disgusting hands off me!" Seungjo snarled, brutally twisting his arm away to shield the device.
But Yeonho was completely frantic, the fear blinding him as he grabbed onto Seungjo's expensive suit sleeves, his voice cracking into a desperate plea.
"Don't! Please, I'm begging you, don't call them! I'll leave the country right now! I'll disappear! Just please don't call them!"
Seungjo looked down at Yeonho, his expression twisting with utter disgust.
"Why are you so terrified of your own father? You're the one who crawled back into the mud, Yeonho. If you wanted peace, you should have stayed hidden in whatever gutter you ran to."
"Take those words back right now," Carl's booming voice cut through the room. The large bodyguard stepped forward, his massive frame shielding Yeonho as his eyes burned with protective fury.
"I will not tolerate anyone insulting my mistress."
Seungjo let out a harsh, degrading laugh.
"Oh look, you even brought your loyal little pet along. Tell me, Yeonho, did selling your body like a cheap prostitute in Russia finally earn you enough cash to afford a personal guard? You should just be grateful you get to abuse that pathetic body to your heart's content."
Carl's knuckles popped as his hands coiled into massive, lethal fists, his restraint snapping entirely at the vile disrespect.
"You bastard! How dare you speak to the mistress that way!"
With a furious roar, Carl walked forward, his fist cocked back to shatter Seungjo's jaw, but Yeonho threw his entire weight against Carl's chest, desperately halting his momentum.
If a brawl broke out inside the dressing room, the media fallout would be instantaneous.
"Carl! No! Stop right there and don't interfere!" Yeonho screamed, his small hands digging into his bodyguard's jacket.
"But Mistress, he's—"
"It's fine! Just back down!" Yeonho ordered, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and exhaustion. "Remember where we are… everyone in this country already hates me. A scandal like this will ruin everything. Let me handle it…"
Carl hesitated, his chest heaving with rage, but he slowly stepped back, lowering his hands in silent defeat.
Yeonho let out a ragged breath, trying to force the mounting tension out of his muscles. He turned back to Seungjo, but a sudden wave of dizziness made the room tilt.
He forced his gaze to lock back onto Seungjo, his voice dropping into a shaky whisper.
"You wanted answers… you have them. I've given you everything. So please… just don't call Hana. Don't call my father."
Seungjo stared down at him, his expression cold.
"I don't recall ever making a deal with you. What makes you think you have a single shred of control in this room?"
"Just don't do it," Yeonho whispered, his vision beginning to blur into dark spots.
"In return… I'll give you a secret. A real secret about who Hana actually is."
"Yeonho, shut up. Don't do this," Min-hyuk cut in, his tone dropping all traces of amusement.
He realized exactly what Yeonho was doing—he was trying to deploy the exact same move he had used to both himself and Gyeongjae.
Min-hyuk knew that the moment Yeonho spilled those secrets, Seungjo's obsessive nature would force him to investigate.
And if Seungjo dug deep enough, the entire fragile house of cards would collapse—Hana would find out that the men in her orbit were actively sharing her twin brother's bed.
"Why shouldn't I tell him?" Yeonho murmured, a dark, breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he swayed slightly.
"Isn't it better if all of you finally know the truth? Besides, it's just a tiny little secret… and I have so many more."
Seungjo's eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued by the raw panic in Min-hyuk's interruption.
There was a deeper layer of filth hidden here, and he could smell it.
"You better not be wasting my time, or—"
Seungjo froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he noticed Yeonho's pupils suddenly losing focus entirely.
A thick, cold sweat broke out across Yeonho's forehead, his breathing turning incredibly shallow and ragged.
"No… damn it… not right now…'
A splitting headache pierced straight through his skull, a violent indication that another hidden fragment of the original owner's past was tearing its way into his conscious mind.
But this time, it was too fast.
A dark, stream of fresh blood began to spill rapidly from his left nostril, tracking across his upper lip and contrasting sharply against his deathly pale skin.
Yeonho shook his head violently, blinking rapidly against the encroaching darkness to force the headache away.
Seungjo's brow furrowed, stepping back in genuine surprise as he watched Yeonho's face drain of all color, his eyes tracking the dark blood spilling onto his collar.
"You… what is this? Is this another one of your pathetic little performance?"
"Shut up… just shut the fuck up…" Yeonho choked out, his knees buckling.
Before he could hit the floor, Min-hyuk sprang forward, his large arms catching Yeonho by the shoulders, steadying his weight completely.
Carl rushed over from the corner, his face twisted in absolute panic.
"Mistress!" Carl shouted, shoving past Seungjo.
Min-hyuk carefully guided Yeonho down onto the leather couch, letting the boy's limp body lean heavily against his shoulder for support.
Seungjo stood completely motionless by the table, staring at the sight.
"Pathetic," Seungjo muttered, though his voice lacked its previous venom, replaced by a strange, uneasy tension.
"Faking an illness the second you panic."
"Can you just shut your mouth for a single second?" Yeonho snapped, his voice incredibly weak as he leaned his head back against Min-hyuk's chest.
Carl quickly grabbed a box of tissues from the table, pulling out several sheets and gently pressing them to Yeonho's nose to stanch the steady flow of blood.
Slowly wiping away the crimson fluid, Yeonho forced his eyes open, looking directly at his bodyguard.
"Carl… go buy me something incredibly sweet," Yeonho whispered, his throat dry. "Chocolate… candy… anything with pure sugar. Right now."
"Yes, Mistress. I'll be back in an instant," Carl left the room in a hurry.
'Is this going to happen everytime I remember something?'
Yeonho thought bitterly, closing his eyes as his consciousness vibrated against the dark walls of the past.
'Ahh... This is gonna be a pain in the ass'
Exhausted and leaning entirely into Min-hyuk's steady hold, Yeonho remained completely oblivious to the absolute chaos that was currently accelerating toward the doors.
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