Taewoo slipped back into his seat at the grand dining table, the fresh charcoal suit hugging his frame like a second skin. The fabric was impossibly soft, the cut impeccable...Savile Row quality that probably cost more than his monthly salary. He could still feel the phantom weight of Dante Moretti's gaze on his back, could still hear that soft, knowing intake of breath when those grey eyes had found the tattoo.
He recognized it. He knew.
"Dr. Kang, did you go shopping during the dinner?" Chairman Park's wife asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp with curiosity. She gestured at his transformed appearance. "That suit wasn't what you arrived in."
Taewoo's face flushed slightly, a carefully constructed mask of embarrassment sliding into place. He offered a sheepish smile, the kind that made him seem approachable, harmless...the good doctor caught in an awkward situation. "Ah, no. I had a small accident. Coffee spilled on my shirt during a break, and I made quite a mess of myself. I had to change."
"Such a shame," the woman clucked sympathetically. "But this one looks even better on you. Where did you get it?"
Before Taewoo could fabricate a response, the low rumble of Dante's voice cut through from across the table. "It was a gift."
Every head at the table swiveled toward the Italian mafia heir. He wasn't looking at anyone in particular, just swirling the wine in his glass with deliberate slowness, his expression unreadable. But the corner of his mouth twitched...just slightly...into something that might have been amusement.
Bastard, Taewoo thought, his jaw tightening. What game is he playing?
"Ah, how generous," Chairman Kim said, his voice carrying a note of forced brightness. He glanced between the two men, his shrewd eyes missing nothing. "I wasn't aware you two were acquainted, Mr. Moretti."
"We weren't," Taewoo said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "It was just..."
"We are now," Dante interrupted smoothly, finally lifting his gaze to meet Taewoo's. Those grey eyes held a dark, possessive glint that made Taewoo's skin prickle with warning. "Dr. Kang and I had a... productive conversation."
The table fell into a brief, loaded silence. Taewoo could feel his mother's gaze boring into the side of his head, could sense the calculations happening behind her elegant, composed expression. She knew something was off. She always did.
"Ah, young people making connections," Chairman Park's wife broke in, waving a dismissive hand. "It's wonderful to see. Business and pleasure, all in one evening."
Taewoo forced a smile and picked up his wine glass, taking a long sip to hide his discomfort. He could feel Dante watching him still, could feel the weight of that attention like a physical touch. It was suffocating. It was infuriating.
I need to get out of here.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of forced conversation and carefully avoided eye contact. Taewoo kept his head down, nodding at appropriate moments, offering noncommittal responses to questions he barely heard. His mind was elsewhere...stuck in that restroom, trapped under the weight of Dante's knowing gaze.
How does he know about the tattoo? It was years ago. A blur of neon and desperation. I don't even remember the face of the person who...
He cut the thought off before it could fully form, stabbing at his dessert with unnecessary force.
Stop. You were young and stupid. It doesn't matter anymore.
But it did matter. He could feel it in the way his heart hammered every time he caught Dante's eye across the table. Could feel it in the phantom ache of old, half-buried memories trying to claw their way to the surface.
By the time the dinner finally ended, Taewoo was vibrating with tension. He made his goodbyes with mechanical politeness, shaking hands and offering thanks with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His mother looped her arm through his as they walked toward the exit, her grip deceptively strong.
"Taewoo," she said softly, her voice carrying that particular edge that meant she had questions and wasn't going to let them go unanswered. "Who is that man? Dante Moretti?"
"The son of father's old friend," Taewoo said flatly. "That's all I know."
"Hmm." She didn't sound convinced. "He looked at you all night. Like a wolf watching a lamb."
Taewoo snorted, a genuine sound of disbelief. "I'm an Alpha, Eomma. I'm hardly a lamb."
"Alphas can be prey too," she said, her voice dropping to something almost somber. She squeezed his arm. "You're my son. I know when something is wrong."
Taewoo didn't respond. He couldn't.
The ride home was silent at first, the city lights blurring past as the driver navigated through the late-night traffic. Taewoo slumped against the leather seat, staring out the window, the events of the evening replaying on a loop in his mind.
His mother watched him for a long moment before breaking the silence. "So. You were in that restroom for quite some time."
Taewoo's shoulders tensed. "I already told you. Coffee accident."
"I don't think it was coffee," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "And I don't think you were alone."
"Eomma..."
"Chairman Kim's son, Minjun," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "He's a sweet boy. Quiet, well-mannered. An Omega, yes, but a good match for someone like you. I noticed how pale he got when you returned. Almost like he'd seen something that frightened him."
Taewoo's stomach dropped. He hadn't thought about Minjun's reaction...the way the young Omega had fled the moment Dante appeared. He'd been too focused on his own panic to consider what it might mean.
"He's a nice person," Taewoo said carefully. "But I'm not interested."
"Interested?" His mother laughed, a light tinkling sound that held no real humor. "You think I'm asking about interest? Taewoo, Chairman Kim's family is powerful. That boy has been paraded around as a marriage prospect for years. You could do much worse."
"I could," Taewoo agreed. "But I'm not going to marry someone just because it's convenient."
Yoonhee turned in her seat to face him fully, her expression shifting into something more serious. "You told me once that you slept with him."
Taewoo flinched. "That was years ago. I was in rut. It was a mistake."
"A mistake that could become an opportunity," she pressed. "He was sweet on you after that night. I saw how he looked at you at the charity gala. You two would look good together."
"Eomma." Taewoo's voice carried a note of warning. "I don't have plans for marriage. Not now. Not with him."
She sighed, the sound carrying the weight of a thousand similar conversations. "You're twenty-six years old, Taewoo. Your sister Yura is the only one of my children who's married. What about your brother Seoyeon? He's the eldest, and he hasn't even shown interest in anyone."
Taewoo latched onto the deflection like a lifeline. "Exactly! You should focus on him first. He's getting old...almost forty now. Why are you pushing me?"
"Ugh." His mother's expression soured dramatically. "Don't remind me. Seoyeon is hopeless. He's too busy with that research lab of his to even notice when someone flirts with him. I've tried introducing him to nice Omegas and Betas, but he just talks about cell regeneration and genetic markers the entire time."
A genuine smile tugged at Taewoo's lips despite himself. "He's passionate."
"He's a nightmare," she corrected. "But he's your brother, so I love him anyway." She reached over and patted Taewoo's knee. "You're different, Taewoo. You have so much potential. A good job, good looks, good manners when you choose to use them. Why won't you let me find you, someone?"
"Because I'll find someone myself," Taewoo said, the words coming out more defensive than he intended. "When I'm ready."
His mother's expression changed abruptly...softening, becoming almost conspiratorial. "Aish, that look on your face." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Is there someone already? Someone you haven't told me about?"
Taewoo's mind immediately flashed to grey eyes and a cool, knowing smile. He pushed the image away violently. "No. There's no one."
"You're blushing," she said delightedly. "There is someone!"
"Eomma, I am not blushing. It's warm in this car."
"It's air-conditioned."
"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep." He turned pointedly toward the window, closing his eyes.
His mother hummed softly, a satisfied sound. "Fine. But I'll find out eventually. I always do."
Taewoo didn't respond. He kept his eyes closed, listening to the hum of the engine and the distant sounds of the city, trying to quiet the chaos in his mind.