The Weight of the Seat

“Who was that Alpha…?”

Jaekyung asked, his body trembling.

The fear from that moment washed over him again.

An Alpha he didn’t know had grabbed him and forced his heat to rise.

And thinking about what that man said— it was intentional.

It was clearly targeted.

And in truth, it was no different from assault.

“We don’t know yet.

They say it’s still under investigation.

But that’s not the real problem.”

Not the problem?

Then what was?

“From now on, things like this will happen often.”

“What…?”

“The seat you’re sitting in— what do you think it is?

It’s a seat that invites envy, jealousy, and resentment all at once.

And it’s the seat closest to Han Tae-seok.

People will try anything to put a stain on you.

Yesterday’s incident won’t be in the news, but in this circle, it will be talked about for years.

Until you two become bonded, no one will acknowledge you as Tae-seok’s lawful spouse.

They’ll ignore you and step on you, making it impossible for you to stand properly in this world.

Who caused it?

Everyone except NI and your family are suspects.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then you still don’t understand this place.

Surely you’re not trying to say that all places where people live are the same, right?

There are invisible ranks.

And words— clean of any blade— are the weapons here that cut people apart.”

Director Ji stood up.

“I hope you learned something from this.

And don’t show yourself in public for a while.

Don’t even come to the gallery.

Stay home for about a month.”

“But…”

“I hate seeing NI get talked about because of personal matters.

If the Chairman hears, he will explode.

Be grateful this ends with me.

If the Chairman finds out, your family will take damage.”

Jaekyung couldn’t say anything more and closed his lips tightly, nodding quietly.

“We suppressed the heat cycle with an injection.

Since it wasn’t triggered by the Han family’s pheromones but by another Alpha’s, there is no plan to proceed with bonding or sharing a bed.

It’s repulsive.

Take care of yourself.

Don’t cause trouble again.”

Director Ji straightened her posture, turned, and began to leave.

“And let me say it again— it’s best if you get bonded as soon as possible.

The moment they learn you two aren’t bonded, many Omegas will start aiming for Tae-seok.”

Warning him that simply holding the seat requires strength, she left the room.

As soon as she disappeared, Jaekyung looked down at his trembling hands.

His body felt cold— like standing alone in a city covered in fog, with no one beside him.

He didn’t want to be alone.

But there was no one— no arms to hold him.

He had to endure everything alone.

He didn’t want to cry— crying felt like losing.

But a single tear slipped down his cheek.

Anyone is fine, just please… stay by my side.

Please hold me.

Stroke my head and tell me it’s okay.

Please….

◆

“Ah….”

Jaekyung blinked slowly and let out a breath as he stared up at a ceiling that felt unfamiliar, yet not unfamiliar.

He had moved a month ago, but the ceiling still didn’t feel like his.

He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes, staring at the small tear stain on the back of his hand.

When was that dream from…?

“…Haa.”

He got up, walked to the kitchen, and drank some water.

Maybe drinking cold water right after waking was a mistake— his head pulsed, and he narrowed his eyes until it calmed.

The pulsing stopped, but one side of his head still ached, so he took painkillers before breakfast.

He really needed to sleep properly.

He turned and looked toward the living room.

It was a mess— art prints spread everywhere.

As part of the gallery work, he had been meeting unknown artists.

To meet them properly, he studied their paintings— their styles, techniques, lives, the materials they favored.

Thankfully, everything he learned came from Director Ji.

She really was remarkable.

So many people worked under her, yet she managed the entire gallery herself— every piece, every contact, every negotiation.

After the medicine took effect, Jaekyung made salad and corn soup while reviewing an artist profile.

Lee Se-chan.

When was he scheduled to meet him?

Jaekyung checked his phone schedule.

“…Hm?”

His finger slipped and moved to the schedule for the next month.

There was a single heart mark on a date.

What is that?

He tapped it.

‘A Happy Day.’

He had never marked something like that.

He couldn’t remember it at all.

It wasn’t a holiday.

So he must have marked it before the divorce.

Did he really think there would be a happy day in that house?

He couldn’t understand his past self.

Had he planned to divorce then?

No… the divorce was…

“Hmmm…”

Even after staring at the mark for several minutes, he couldn’t figure it out.

He tried to delete it, but his hand stopped.

It would be so easy— just one tap.

No.

There was about a month left.

He would wait and see what happens that day.

Maybe… he really would find a good Alpha.

Someone who would hold him tightly.

Or maybe something good would happen with the gallery.

That thought made him feel lighter.

That day— the day in the dream— had been suffocating.

He had been alone, hugging himself, unable to see a future.

But now— he could see many futures.

Futures he hadn’t imagined.

He continued eating his salad, quietly building new futures in his mind.

◆

“Executive Director.”

Tae-seok blinked.

The blurry voice became clearer, and light returned to his vision.

Secretary Oh was looking at him with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“…Yeah.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up.

He must have dozed off in the car.

“We’ve arrived.”

Secretary Oh opened the door, and the cold dawn air cleared his tired head.

3 a.m.

Most people were long asleep.

The house before him was asleep too— but in a different way.

“Lately, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine. Go rest.”

“What time should I return?”

“Seven.”

“…Understood.”

He sent Secretary Oh away and walked into the house slowly.

There were lights, but everything felt abandoned.

No warmth.

No presence.

He entered the passcode.

The air inside was colder than outside.

Empty.

Left behind.

Just traces of someone who was no longer there.

He loosened his tie, shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoned his suffocating shirt, letting everything fall in a trail behind him as he walked to the bedroom fogged with shadow.

He collapsed onto the bed.

His phone buzzed— schedule updates.

Someone had pushed his meetings an hour later.

He didn’t need anyone to adjust things for him— but of course, they would.

He let out a dry laugh and buried his face in the pillow with no owner.

Then he remembered something and checked the next month’s calendar.

‘21st — A Happy Day.’

The day he could not bring himself to delete.

He closed his eyes and exhaled a long, heavy breath.

◆

Director Ji had told Jaekyung to stay home for a month.

But in truth, Jaekyung had been living like that ever since he married.

Whether he went to the gallery or not— it didn’t change much.

When he finally returned to work after three months, he could feel the whispers.

He knew the rumors had spread.

He didn’t let it bother him.

If the rumors had been lies, he would have felt wronged.

But they were based on truth— so who could he blame?

The staff didn’t say anything to his face.

But wives who visited the gallery or naive heirs from wealthy families would openly sneer.

Thanks to Director Ji’s training, Jaekyung could ignore them with a blank expression.

After two more months, Director Ji began taking him to luncheons with powerful women from the financial world.

She told him to sit quietly and listen— not to speak.

In short, he was to behave like a well-trained pet.

They met three wives of major first-tier bank CEOs at a traditional Korean restaurant in Hannam-dong.

The wives sat across from them.

Jaekyung and Director Ji sat side by side, quietly listening.

Director Ji responded to each of their words with a pleasant smile.

Even though, in terms of rank, Director Ji held more power, she bowed her head and catered to them gracefully.