Chapter 79
The door opened, and Gyeongjae's head snapped up. He was sitting at the edge of the mattress, jerking himself off with rough, aggressive strokes, and he didn't bother to stop.
Yeonho stood in the doorway with no wig and no makeup, long blonde hair spilling over his shoulders. "You look awful," he said, walking toward him.
That was all it took. Gyeongjae couldn't wait another second, not with the disguise gone and that bare face right in front of him. He rose, crossed the room in two strides, and kissed Yeonho without a word, gripping the slender body so tightly that it fit against his chest like it belonged there.
Yeonho melted into those strong arms. He looped his own around Gyeongjae's neck and kissed him back, and the sound he made against Gyeongjae's mouth sent another wave of heat through his veins.
Gyeongjae hooked a hand under his thigh, lifted him effortlessly, and carried him back to the mattress without breaking the kiss. He laid Yeonho down like something he refused to let go of.
"My body feels so hot," he muttered into Yeonho's neck.
His hands slid under the knitted sweater, and his mouth followed, dragging kisses and slow licks across Yeonho's chest.
Caught off guard by the intensity, Yeonho instinctively brought a hand over his mouth to muffle a quiet gasp.
"Wait... Gyeongjae."
Gyeongjae stopped and lifted his eyes.
He knew he was under the influence of something strong, and he knew Hana was responsible.
Earlier, he had doubted Yeonho's warning and chosen to trust her instead—because despite everything, he still held feelings for her.
But that wasn't the whole truth. Some part of him was drawn to Yeonho too, and being stuck between the twins left him with no idea what to do.
For now, all he wanted was Yeonho's attention, especially now that disappointment in Hana was growing in him, along with guilt toward the man beneath him.
"Hey. Are you listening?"
Yeonho called out, pulling Gyeongjae back from wherever his mind drifted. The anger over being doubted still simmered in his chest, though it was melting away little by little.
"I'm sorry," Gyeongjae muttered softly.
"..."
"I'm sorry I didn't listen."
Yeonho's chest tightened. Hearing those words was strangely overwhelming, like he waited his whole life for someone to say them.
Yejun's apology earlier was disgusting and forced.
But if the people who destroyed his life ever truly apologized, if they reflected on what they did, maybe his resentment would loosen, even a little.
Maybe he wouldn't be like this.
How good would it feel if his parents believed him for once, if they said sorry for doubting him, for never listening?
Maybe things would turn out differently...
Just remembering was enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Gyeongjae's apology stirred up thoughts he was working so hard to bury.
A lump rose in his throat, the kind that would turn into a choked sob if he let it.
He sat up quickly, putting physical distance between them before he lost control.
Gyeongjae saw the small shift in his expression and pulled him into his arms.
"Hey... Are you crying?"
"I'm not..." Yeonho muttered, his voice muffled against Gyeongjae's shoulder.
"You look like you're about to."
"I said I'm not. Your eyes are just terrible."
"Don't lie to me," Gyeongjae murmured softly, his hand resting on the back of Yeonho's head. "It's okay. You can cry if you want. No one's here."
"I won't. Stop being so persistent."
They bickered quietly, but the embrace was warm, and the comfort soothed Yeonho more than he wanted to admit.
The steady rhythm of Gyeongjae's heartbeat calmed his frayed nerves, tempting him to sink into the comfort.
Yet, a quiet voice inside reminded him that this was no time to show weakness.
Never showing weakness was his number one rule, and Gyeongjae already saw him at his most vulnerable state before and he didn't want him to see more of this side of him.
Honestly, a part of him wanted to stay in these arms much longer, wished he could stay in this safe hold just a little longer.
"Stay still."
He broke away and, without another word, injected the dose into Gyeongjae's arm, then prepared to leave.
Gyeongjae didn't resist, aware that Yeonho might be upset with him.
"I'm going now." At the door, Yeonho paused without turning around. "I'm not mad. Well, honestly, I'm annoyed. You love her, so it makes sense you don't believe me. But you know Hana drugged you once already, and you still doubted me. I hate that. And I hate that you said sorry and I accepted it."
The words hit Gyeongjae like a fist in the chest. He stood and walked toward him.
"Yeonho, I'm sorry. I... I just—"
"Stay here. I have to go."
The door closed, and Gyeongjae was alone.
He couldn't stop thinking about Yeonho's pained face. "He hates it," he mumbled.
'He hates when people see him cry. No. He hates me, because I didn't believe him. I made him feel that way...'
He rubbed his face and let out a deep sigh.
Knowing he needed to clear his head before he did something stupid, he turned toward the bathroom to let the cold water run.
Yeonho walked toward the other side of the corridor with his eyes fixed on the floor, watching his feet move one step at a time.
'Was I too harsh? He looked sorry. Maybe I should have stayed longer...'
Guilt gnawed at him. Gyeongjae was clearly worried, and yet he acted cold and pushed him away.
Shaking off the distraction, he refocused on the task at hand.
The remaining two men were likely in far worse condition given how much time had passed, thanks to Min-Hyuk, Seungjo, and Gyeongjae holding him up.
The hall was empty, almost abandoned.
He barely saw four or five servants in the entire villa, which was perfect.
Moving without a disguise and without prying eyes was exactly what he needed.
'I hope they're okay.'
Yeonho stopped in front of a door and knocked three times.
After ten seconds, it opened.
Shin Jaehwan stood in the doorway, stripped down to a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Drops of water clung to his skin and dripped from his wet, golden-brown hair. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower.
Trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jaehwan's face rather than his bare torso, Yeonho quickly got straight to the point.
"Umm... I'm here to help yo—"
A hand yanked him inside before he could finish, and a moment later he was sitting on the bed.
Jaehwan stood at its edge, drying his hair with another towel, and stared down at him.
"Why are you here? And what happened to you?"
Yeonho straightened. "Forget about the disguise. I'm here to help. Hana drugged you and the other guys."
Jaehwan paused, draping the towel over his shoulder. "Hana drugged me?"
"Yes. I have a dose here to ease it. If you let me help, you'll feel better."
Jaehwan said nothing. He just kept staring, and Yeonho noticed something strange: he didn't look surprised. Not even a flicker.
"Do it." Jaehwan sat down beside him.
He had already known something was wrong with his body. The moment he took a cold shower, his temperature had spiked violently instead of cooling down.
Yeonho grabbed the kit from the floor, where he dropped it earlier, and slid the needle into Jaehwan's arm. "We're done," he said, packing up to leave. "I know I look suspicious, but I'm telling the truth—"
"No need to explain."
Yeonho frowned. "Why?"
"Hana surely has a reason."
"So it's fine if she drugged you again?"
"No. But I'll find out why."
"What if the reason is terrible?"
"That won't happen. Hana isn't that kind of person. Now, if we're done, leave."
Without waiting for a response, Jaehwan stood up and walked into his walk-in closet, completely brushing Yeonho off.
Even under the influence of a potent drug, his mental discipline was terrifyingly intact.
Irritation prickled under Yeonho's skin.
He could usually talk casually with Jaehwan, without honorifics, but Jaehwan was the type whose walls were painfully visible.
They just held a perfectly normal conversation, and still the cold treatment was obviously there.
Yeonho stood and left the room.
There was no point talking to someone so stoic, someone impossible to read.
Besides, only one man was left, and after him, he could finally drink some water and rest.
He knocked a few times on the door where he expected to find Lee Dongjun.
No answer came, and the knocking dragged on much longer than it should have.
'Is he not here? But I saw them take him to this side.'
He turned the handle. The door was unlocked, and he stepped inside.
The room was dark. A single lamp by the bed was the only light, and Yeonho squinted as he moved through the shadows.
Something caught under his foot. He bent down and picked up a leather belt.
Scanning the dark room, he noticed the clothes lay scattered across the floor all the way to the bed.
'Maybe he's in the shower, taking care of himself.'
Assuming Dongjun was preoccupied, Yeonho took another step forward but a footstep sounded behind him.
A shadow swallowed his figure, and a deep, raspy voice spoke right next to his ear.
"Who are you?"
The sharp, dangerous timbre undeniably belonged to Lee Dongjun.
Yeonho froze and slowly turned to face him.
Even in the dark, the small flare of light casting on Dongjun's face was enough to make him nervous.
"I... I'm here to help. You've been—"
"So you finally showed yourself."
"What?"
"Was that little act you put on earlier fun? Was playing buddy-buddy with Hana fun for you?"
Yeonho could have answered, but Dongjun's presence was so suffocating that forming a sentence felt impossible.
Dongjun stepped forward, and every time he did, Yeonho stepped back, listening to him speak of memories that weren't his.
"Did you think I forgot the little stunt you pulled years ago? Are you trying to sleep with me again because of Hana, and run off with my money again?"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play dumb now. You kept pestering me for money after your family kicked you out. You surely haven't forgotten how we met."
His heart began to pound, thump after thump after thump.
Nothing in his knowledge of the original plot accounted for this interaction.
Whatever Dongjun was talking about, it was a piece the story never told him.
The original story's narrative had never mentioned a past encounter between Lee Dongjun and Choi Yeonho prior to the main plot events.
'Is it real...? It has to be.'
Dongjun hates liars and scumbags who's after his money, and the original villain had a long list of shady motives.
It hadn't been him who committed those acts years ago—it had been the original owner of this body.
Yet the original Yeonho's insatiable greed for wealth matched his own current survival drive almost seamlessly.
"Why so quiet?" Dongjun taunted, his dark eyes piercing right through him. "Are you putting on an act? Or are you about to drop to your knees and beg for cash like you did back then?"
Yeonho attempted to pull together a coherent response, but his mind went completely blank under the pressure and only answered the same as before.
"I really don't know what you're talking about. Maybe you mistook me for someone else."
Yeonho said softly, his voice trembling slightly.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn around, open that door, and get out of the room immediately.
He turned to walk away.
"Choi Yeonho."
The commanding voice stopped him in his tracks, and a hand fisted his long hair from behind, yanking his head back and forcing his face upward.
He met Dongjun's unsettling expression.
"Don't you dare turn your back on me while I'm speaking to you." Dongjun growled right on to his face.
"I'm sorry... I really don't remember you or anything you said."
"Ha," Dongjun let out a cold, humorless chuckle. "I hate it when people think I'm a fool. Do you think I'll fall for that?"
"I'm telling the truth." Yeonho clutched at the hand twisted in his hair. "I don't remember what happened before."
"Playing innocent now?" Dongjun whispered, his grip tightening. "Have you already forgotten your place? Do I have to teach you again?"
"I really don't know!" Yeonho winced, the pain shooting straight through his neck as he felt it bending. "If we just talk this out calmly, maybe I'll remember something!"
Dongjun stayed silent for a full ten seconds, reading him.
Sensing that the panic in Yeonho's eyes might actually be real, Dongjun shifted his grip slightly, pulling Yeonho's head back even further until their faces were inches apart.
Yeonho's neck could snap any moment now.
"If you don't remember, then I'll have to force it into you until you do. But you're not running away with my money this time."
"What are you—"
Maybe he shouldn't have invited myself in when the door didn't open. Maybe he should have lied and said he remembered whatever he was spouting.
Dongjun turned Yeonho to face him and the lamp flickered across that cold, glittering stare.
'I'm done for...'
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