Author's Note: Hey dear readers! Before you dive into this episode, please don't forget to leave a comment below. Tell me what you felt, what shocked you, what made you laugh—or scream! Your thoughts keep this story alive, and I love reading them. Enjoy the chaos, mystery, and spice!
Thank you
_________
There was something strange in the air.
The Park estate was buzzing with life. Staff hurried down the halls, chefs shouted in kitchens, and Eun-Kyung was on her fifth threat to cancel the entire dinner party if someone didn't stop playing with the table centerpiece. It was the pre-engagement dinner, and even though the no one ask him , Mr. Lee had already arrived like a drama lead, dragging his omega son Minjun behind him, both of them dressed like they were attending the royal wedding.
"Eun-Kyung-ssi," Mr. Lee beamed, bowing far too low. "We brought wine—vintage—and imported orchids. We didn't know what the theme was so we brought three!"
Eun-Kyung gave him a smile so tight it might as well have been made of thread. "It's a family dinner, not a funeral, Mr. Lee. But thank you."
Minjun, dressed in pale pink silk and holding a scroll of polite greetings, blinked up at Taehyun like he was auditioning to be a saint.
Taehyun gave a single nod. "You look like a wedding cake. A dry one."
Minjun blinked again. "Thank you."
Haru, who was with Taehyun, couldn't help but laugh and ended up spilling his wine after listening to him.
Later that evening, the dinner was loud, colorful, and painfully polite. Everyone smiled too much. Mr. Lee kept dropping hints about wedding venues. Eun-Kyung drank champagne like it was water. Baek Hyun accidentally roasted Minjun in front of everyone by suggesting he must be "a great sleeper" because he had "resting furniture energy."
But even through all the noise and cheer, Taehyun felt it. Eyes.
Somewhere. Watching.
The same heavy, invisible gaze from the last few days. Cold and unblinking, like winter itself had taken root in his bones.
He looked around several times. Nothing. No strange shadows, no misplaced reflections. Just the soft candlelight and laughter.
He pushed it aside. Again.
---
That night, silence settled like frost across the house.
Taehyun lay curled in his luxurious bed, limbs tangled in silk sheets, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had no memory of taking anything, but his body felt heavy—too heavy.
His limbs refused to move.
Then he felt it.
A warm breath on his neck.
A tongue—hot, slow, deliberate—tracing down the curve of his spine. His eyes wouldn't open. His chest fluttered.
"No... not again..." he mumbled, breathless.
Lips pressed against his collarbone, trailing lower, slower. Fingers brushed over his waist, teasing the hem of his sleepwear. Something slid his pants down.
Then—a wet, heated mouth wrapped around his length. He gasped in his dreamlike state, hips twitching, pleasure blooming like fire across his skin.
He didn't know who it was. But the touches were familiar.
Possessive.
Obsession dripped from every motion.
Then—another hard, pulsing shape rubbed against him. Pressing, sliding, stroking in rhythm.
Pleasure crashed over him.
And then—a voice.
Right at his ear. Deep. Velvet.
"Are you enjoying your engagement, darling?"
Taehyun whimpered. "No... I'm not enjoying it... No... No—"
The voice chuckled. "Good. You can enjoy this for now. Until I get you... in my hands."
---
Taehyun shot up.
Sweat drenched his skin. His breathing was ragged.
He looked down—and groaned.
"Oh, for f—Park Taehyun, you're not a teenager!" he hissed, throwing the soaked sheets aside. His pants were wet with release. Embarrassed, flushed, and very much horrified at his own dream, he stumbled into the bathroom.
His hands shook as he splashed cold water on his face.
The scent of him still lingered in the room. But under it...
Something else.
He paused.
Cologne. One he didn't own.
---
Meanwhile, somewhere in the shadows of the estate, a man held a photo in his gloved hand. In the picture, Taehyun laughed with Minjun at the dinner table.
His smile. His joy.
The man's jaw tightened.
He sent the image.
Vasilliy's phone lit up.
His thumb hovered over the image, eyes narrowing.
Taehyun. Laughing with another.
His smile didn't belong to anyone else.
It belonged to him.
Only him.
He tapped the screen, voice low.
"Send the next phase."
---
Elsewhere in the house, Haru was helping clean up the dinner mess, muttering under his breath about overcooked lamb and weird guests. He headed toward the guest bathroom to fix his tie—and opened the door too fast.
Inside stood Moon Jinhwan—shirtless, wet hair dripping, pulling on a towel.
Haru froze.
Jinhwan looked up, smirked, and didn't cover himself.
"Looking for something?"
Haru made a noise that could've been a dying dolphin, backed out so fast he slammed into the hallway wall.
"I'm fine!" he shouted. "Totally fine! Saw nothing! ABSOLUTELY nothing!"
Jinhwan chuckled from inside.
"You're blushing, sunshine."
"I'M NOT!"
His ears were the color of strawberries.
---
Back in his room, Taehyun sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the mirror.
The reflection stared back—but his skin prickled like someone else was in the room.
He couldn't explain it.
But he knew.
Vasilliy was close.
And this time, he wasn't just watching.
He was touching.
And claiming.
---
[To be continued...]