The words were casual, almost amused, but they sent a chill down Eun-jae's spine. His blood froze in his veins as the voice wrapped around him like a noose, tightening with every syllable.
No. Nope. Absolutely not. This cannot be happening.
Eun-jae swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. Why is he here? What does he want? And, most importantly, how do I survive this without peeing myself? Because I'm this close—like this close.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Eun-jae turned his head, his eyes wide and frantic as they met the man's. The smirk on the man's face was infuriatingly smug, his eyes sharp and predatory, like he was enjoying every second of Eun-jae's discomfort.
And that's when Eun-jae's phone, bless its terrible timing, finally loaded the picture. His gaze flicked down, and his stomach dropped.
It was him.
The man standing behind him, smirking like the devil himself, was his supposed "partner."
Eun-jae stared at the screen, then back at the man, his thoughts spinning out of control. Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Director Jin, what kind of sick joke is this?! This guy isn't a partner—he's a walking nightmare! You really want me to work with him? I'd rather jump off a cliff.
"Surprised?" the man drawled, his smirk widening as if he could read Eun-jae's mind.
Eun-jae's jaw clenched, his brain scrambling for something—anything—to say. But all he could manage was a strained, "Uh… hi?"
Inside, he was screaming.
Eun-jae stood outside the door to his hotel room, staring at the engraved numbers as if they might magically explain how the CEO never showed up to their meeting. His day was already spiraling into chaos, and all he wanted was a quiet moment to figure out what was going on. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door.
What he saw made him stop in his tracks.
There, lounging in his room like he owned the place, was that same man. The one with the height of a basketball player, the dimples of a heartbreaker, and the attitude of a mob boss. Caesar.
He was pouring himself a glass of his whiskey, swirling it lazily before taking a slow sip. The audacity was unreal.
"Oh, come in, come in," Caesar said casually, gesturing toward the room like he was the host and Eun-jae was the guest.
Eun-jae's eye twitched. His glare sharpened as he crossed his arms. Come in? Oh, so we're playing house now? Sure, why not? Should I bring you a pillow and blanket while you're at it?
He stepped into the room, letting the door shut with a click behind him. "You're talking as if this is your room," Eun-jae snapped, his tone sharper than a knife.
Caesar didn't even flinch. He leaned back against the table, his long legs crossed casually, and smirked like he was enjoying the show. "Now, now, no need to be so hostile. Relax. Have a drink."
Eun-jae's glare could've burned a hole through steel. "Now speak," he demanded, his voice cold as ice.
Caesar raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Hm?" he hummed, as if he hadn't heard him.
Eun-jae was two seconds away from throwing something at his stupidly perfect face when Caesar finally spoke again.
"We haven't even exchanged pleasantries," Caesar said smoothly, his tone dripping with mock politeness. He extended his hand toward Eun-jae, his grin widening. "The name is Caesar."
The gesture seemed harmless enough—until Eun-jae's mind betrayed him with a memory. He remembered that same hand, that same smooth, elegant motion… only last time, it had been tearing someone's jaw in two like it was made of paper. The image flashed in his head, vivid and horrifying.
Yeah, nope. Not shaking that hand. Hard pass. Absolutely not, Eun-jae thought, his expression carefully blank as he ignored Caesar's hand. He was lost in his own thoughts, trying to push away the memory of blood and screaming, when suddenly he felt a hand on his chin.
"What the—?!" Eun-jae jolted, his eyes snapping up to meet Caesar's.
The man's face was infuriatingly close, his blue eyes glittering with amusement. He tilted Eun-jae's chin slightly, like he was inspecting him. "Honey… you look lost," Caesar said, his voice low and teasing, the smirk on his lips absolutely infuriating.
Eun-jae's entire brain short-circuited. Honey? HONEY?! Who the hell calls someone they just met 'honey'? Oh, right, I forgot. This guy. His eyes widened in shock for half a second before narrowing into a sharp glare. Without thinking, he slapped Caesar's hand away.
"That is not my name," Eun-jae hissed, stepping back to put some much-needed distance between them. His face was burning—not because he was flustered, obviously, but because of pure, undiluted rage. This man has zero respect for personal space. Absolutely none. Who does he think he is, waltzing in here, drinking my whiskey, and calling me pet names like we're in some kind of rom-com?
Caesar chuckled, clearly unbothered. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying this way too much. "Then what is your name, baby?" he asked, his tone playful, like this was all a joke to him.
Eun-jae's fists clenched at his sides. He could feel his sanity slipping away, one thread at a time. "You know my name," he said through gritted teeth.
"It's hard," Caesar replied with a shrug, as if that explained everything. "I can't pronounce it."
Eun-jae blinked. He can't pronounce it? He can't pronounce it?! What kind of excuse is that? You're telling me this walking skyscraper of a man can tear through people like they're paper but can't wrap his tongue around a few syllables? Unbelievable.
"Well, maybe if you focused on learning instead of drinking my whiskey, you'd figure it out," Eun-jae snapped, crossing his arms again.
Caesar laughed, the sound deep and rich, and Eun-jae hated how nice it sounded. "You're feisty. I like that," Caesar said, taking another sip of the whiskey like he had all the time in the world.
Eun-jae's glare intensified. Oh, great. Now I'm 'feisty.' Just what I needed to hear today. This guy is a walking red flag. Scratch that—he's an entire red banner. Someone get me out of here before I do something I regret.
Caesar leaned closer again, his smirk still firmly in place. "Relax, baby. I'm just teasing you."
Eun-jae clenched his jaw so hard it was a miracle his teeth didn't crack. Relax? RELAX?! Oh, sure, let me just relax while you take over my room, drink my whiskey, and act like you own the place. Why not?
Eun-jae took the whiskey from Caesar's outstretched hand, the glass cold against his palm. He swirled the amber liquid absently, his sharp gaze fixed on the man across from him. Every movement Caesar made was deliberate, every gesture carrying an air of nonchalance that set Eun-jae's teeth on edge. There was something about him—something too smooth, too calculated. It wasn't just the dimples that appeared when Caesar smiled or the infuriatingly confident way he leaned back as if the world revolved around him. No, it was the way Caesar seemed to radiate control, like he had already sized Eun-jae up and decided he was no threat.
"You didn't answer my question," Eun-jae said, his tone sharper than he intended. He took a small sip of the whiskey, the burn of it doing little to calm the frustration bubbling under the surface. His wrist ached, a dull reminder of their earlier encounter, and his nose still felt tender despite the swelling having gone down.
Caesar, unbothered, tilted his head as though trying to recall what Eun-jae was referring to. "Oh?" he said, his voice laced with mock innocence. "What was the question again, honey?"
Eun-jae groaned, setting the glass down on the table with a sharp clink. "Why did you attack me?" he snapped, his irritation flaring. "You knew I was your partner, yet you nearly broke my wrist and smashed my nose in! What the hell kind of introduction is that?"
Caesar grinned, the corners of his mouth tugging up to reveal perfect teeth. His dimples deepened, as though he found Eun-jae's outrage more amusing than concerning. "Oh, that," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "You seemed like you could handle yourself, so I thought I'd put it to the test."
Eun-jae's jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Caesar like he wanted to set him on fire with his eyes alone. "You thought—what?" he hissed, incredulous. "You thought it was a good idea to test me by trying to take my head off? What is wrong with you?"
Caesar chuckled, the sound deep and infuriatingly warm. "Relax, honey," he said smoothly. "You're fine, aren't you? No harm done."
Eun-jae scoffed, gesturing to his wrist and nose. "No harm done? I can barely move my wrist without wincing, and my nose looks like it had a close encounter with a brick wall!" He paused, narrowing his eyes at Caesar. "And don't call me 'honey.'"
Caesar leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Eun-jae with a maddeningly casual expression. "Oh, don't be so dramatic," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "You're tougher than you look. And besides, I didn't know it was you at first."
Eun-jae rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck. "Right. Because it's completely normal to ambush random people like a lunatic."
The air between them crackled with tension, but Eun-jae wasn't about to back down. He had questions—questions Caesar had conveniently been dodging since they met.
"And another thing," Eun-jae said, his tone accusing. "That scent on you—it's been clinging to you since we met. At first, I thought it was tobacco, but you're not even smoking. So, what is it? And why does it feel like it's trying to crawl under my skin?"
For the first time, Caesar's grin faltered. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "Tobacco scent?" he repeated, as though the very idea was foreign to him. "what are you talking about?"
Eun-jae crossed his arms tighter, not buying the act. "Then explain it. It's not normal. It's like—it's everywhere. It's you."
Caesar's confusion shifted into understanding, and his lips curved back into that infuriating smirk. "Ah," he said, dragging the word out. "That's not tobacco. Those are my pheromones."
Eun-jae froze, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. "Your... what?" he asked, blinking at Caesar as though he had just sprouted a second head.
"Pheromones," Caesar repeated, leaning back in his chair like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. "Sorry if it's a little overwhelming. I try to keep it in check, but sometimes it slips." He tilted his head, studying Eun-jae with mild curiosity. "But you're a beta, so it's not really affecting you, right?"
Eun-jae's mouth opened and closed a few times as he processed the information. "An alpha?" he asked, his voice flat. "You're an alpha?"
Caesar chuckled, his grin widening. "Oh no, honey," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm an enigma."
The words hit Eun-jae like a freight train, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "An enigma?" he repeated in his head, his thoughts racing. "No way. That's one of the rarest ranks. The highest of the high. The alpha of alphas."
Eun-jae's gaze flicked over Caesar, his mind replaying their earlier encounter. It all made sense now—the overwhelming scent, the sheer dominance in Caesar's presence, the way he moved like he owned every room he entered.
"No wonder his scent was so different," Eun-jae thought, his stomach twisting with unease. "It wasn't just strong—it was overpowering. Like it was made to suffocate anyone in its vicinity. And now I know why. He's not just any alpha. He's... something else entirely."
Caesar's grin grew, as though he could read every thought racing through Eun-jae's head. "Speechless, honey?" he teased, his voice a low purr.
Eun-jae snapped out of his daze, narrowing his eyes. "Hardly," he said, his voice sharp. "I'm just wondering how someone with a rank that rare thinks it's okay to sucker-punch his partner."
Caesar laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone playful. "You passed the test, didn't you?"
Eun-jae groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to throw his drink at the man's smug face. "Great," he thought. "Not only is he an enigma, but he's also insufferable. This job just keeps getting better and better."
But something wasn't right. The pieces didn't quite fit together, and Eun-jae wasn't about to let it slide. He could feel it in his gut—a gnawing sense that there was more to this than Caesar was letting on. Standing in front of the man, who seemed far too relaxed and confident for someone who had practically ambushed him earlier, Eun-jae felt like a chess player staring down an opponent who had already planned twenty moves ahead.
Caesar leaned casually against the table, swirling his glass of whiskey like he owned the place. The faint clink of the ice against the glass was the only sound in the room besides the hum of the air conditioner. His ash-blond hair caught the dim light, casting soft shadows over his chiseled features, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto Eun-jae like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Then why didn't you show yourself earlier?" Eun-jae finally asked, his voice sharp and demanding. His fingers tightened slightly around his own glass of whiskey as he stared Caesar down, refusing to back off.
Caesar tilted his head, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. "I was told to wait," he replied smoothly, his tone calm and nonchalant, as if the question didn't bother him in the slightest.
Eun-jae raised an eyebrow, his irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Told to wait? By who? The magical fairy of bad timing? The audacity of this man—standing here, sipping whiskey like he didn't just cause chaos and confusion in my life—is unreal. Absolutely unreal.
"Told to wait?" Eun-jae repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. "By who, exactly?"
Caesar's smile widened, those damn dimples flashing again. "By the agency," he said simply, as if that answered everything.