The ballroom glittered beneath a thousand lights.
Crystal chandeliers dripped brilliance onto marble floors polished to a mirror's shine, and the soft hum of strings from the orchestra wove through the air. Seoul's elite had gathered—CEOs, politicians, heirs and heiresses—each one cloaked in silks and jewels, their laughter chiming against glass like counterfeit diamonds.
And in the center of it all, Kang Jisoo stood like a statue carved from shadow.
His suit was immaculate, every line precise. His tie—tight, perfect—concealed the faintest tremor of his pulse. To the guests, he was every inch the Alpha they revered and feared: cold, untouchable, a king among men.
But beneath the sharp lines and flawless veneer, something was breaking.
The ache had been building for days, creeping through him like a slow fire. The suppressants dulled it, but only just. He felt it now, coiled low in his abdomen, every beat of his heart pushing it further to the surface.
His breath came shallow. He could feel sweat prick at the back of his neck, hidden by his collar. The scent he worked so hard to bury pressed against the edges of the suppressant's mask, threatening to spill. Sweet, fragile, vulnerable.
Not here, Jisoo thought desperately. Not tonight.
"Smile, sir."
The low voice came from his right. Seo Minjae stood half a step behind him, as always. He wore his black suit with effortless arrogance, lips curved in the faintest smirk, eyes sharp as they swept the room.
Jisoo's jaw tightened. "I don't need your reminders."
"You do," Minjae replied easily, adjusting his cufflink. "The wolves are watching. Better to give them teeth than let them scent blood."
Jisoo's gaze flicked to him, the faintest spark of irritation in his eyes. But he said nothing, because Minjae was right. They were being watched—by rival CEOs, by shareholders, by the vultures who circled every empire waiting for a crack.
And Jisoo could already feel that crack widening.
The evening blurred into handshakes and polite conversation. Champagne glasses clinked, camera flashes sparked, and Jisoo moved through it all with mechanical precision. Minjae followed like a shadow, stepping in when needed, intercepting questions, handing him documents discreetly.
But Minjae's eyes never left him.
He saw the faint tremor in Jisoo's hand when he accepted a drink. The tightness in his smile. The way his breathing shortened every time someone leaned too close.
And then, as the orchestra swelled into another waltz, it happened.
Jisoo's vision blurred. The edges of the room softened into indistinct light, voices echoing as though from underwater. The ache surged, sudden and brutal, knocking the air from his lungs. He stumbled, one hand gripping the edge of a table to steady himself.
Gasps rippled through the guests. Heads turned.
"Kang-ssi?" someone murmured.
Before the whispers could spread, Minjae was there.
He caught Jisoo by the arm, steady but firm, pulling him upright before the room could see him falter. His other hand pressed briefly to Jisoo's back, guiding him away from the curious eyes, away from the circle of wolves.
"Keep walking," Minjae murmured, low enough that only Jisoo could hear.
Jisoo tried to protest, but the words wouldn't form. His body betrayed him, weight leaning against Minjae's grip as they cut through the ballroom.
Behind them, whispers swirled like smoke.
"Is he ill?""The Alpha of Kang Group?""I heard he collapsed once before…"
The music covered most of it, but Jisoo heard enough to know. His mask was slipping, the throne shaking beneath him.
And Minjae's hand at his waist was the only thing holding him up.
They reached the corridor beyond the ballroom, the noise muffled by heavy doors. The hallway stretched quiet and dim, lined with paintings and gilded sconces.
Jisoo staggered once more, and this time Minjae pulled him firmly against the wall, bracing a hand beside his head.
For the first time that night, Jisoo's carefully constructed mask shattered. His breathing was shallow, skin pale, the faint sheen of sweat catching the low light. He looked not like a king, but like a man cornered by his own body.
"Let me go," he rasped.
Minjae leaned closer, his smirk softened into something sharper. "If I let go, you'll fall."
Jisoo's throat tightened. His pride screamed against the truth of it, but his body leaned into Minjae's steadiness all the same.
Minjae studied him, eyes flicking over every detail—the way Jisoo's pupils dilated, the faint tremor of his lips, the heat radiating beneath his skin. And beneath it all, curling faintly into the air, that sweet, fragile scent again. Stronger this time.
He smiled faintly. "You're breaking, Jisoo-ssi."
Jisoo's hand shot up, fisting weakly in Minjae's lapel. "Don't… say my name like that."
"Why not?" Minjae whispered, leaning close enough that Jisoo could feel the warmth of his breath. "It's the truth. And truth has a way of choking out lies."
For a moment, neither moved. The world outside—the gala, the whispers, the crown and the throne—ceased to exist. There was only the man pressed against the wall, trembling with pride and pain, and the one holding him steady, gaze unwavering.
Jisoo hated it.Jisoo needed it.
His knees buckled faintly, and Minjae's arm slid around his waist, catching him before he could fall.
"You're safe," Minjae murmured, so soft it almost didn't match his usual cocky tone. "I've got you."
The words lodged deep in Jisoo's chest, dangerous and disarming. No one spoke to him that way—not board members, not rivals, not even so-called friends. Safety was not a language in his world.
But here, now, with Minjae's strength around him and the storm inside him cracking open, it was the only thing that kept him standing.
Minutes passed before Jisoo finally steadied enough to breathe. His pride returned like a blade, sharp and defensive. He pushed weakly at Minjae's chest, breaking free of his hold.
"This never happened," Jisoo said hoarsely, straightening his tie with trembling fingers.
Minjae tilted his head, watching him with that infuriating half-smile. "Of course, sir. If that's what you want to believe."
Their eyes locked—Jisoo's burning with denial, Minjae's glinting with certainty.
Because they both knew.The king had fallen, if only for a moment.And the one who caught him was no servant, but something far more dangerous.