Chapter Text
The Park family mansion stood in the very heart of Gangnam, rising with quiet grace among the neighboring houses, and no one doubted that the home had been built by the renowned architect of his time – Park Sojun, an alpha who built his empire from scratch on his own shoulders, with blood and sweat, not in the criminal sense of course – though who really knows?
And now, in the middle of this enormous cage, like a statue stood Park Martin, the eldest son of Park Sojun, staring at his father with an unreadable gaze, as if looking right through him, trying to digest the words he had just heard from the alpha.
– What did you just say? — Martin's voice rings out loudly in the silence of this enormous castle, but his father acts as if he doesn't even hear his son, continuing to sip his tea.
– In a month, you will have a wedding. Your fiancé is Kim Juhoon, the eldest son and heir of the Kim hotel corporation, — setting down his cup, the alpha finally answers, looking at Martin with an indifferent gaze.
– I did not agree to this marriage.
– You don't have a choice. You will marry this alpha, bear him heirs, and be an obedient omega, — hearing these words, Martin's fists clench involuntarily, trying somehow to restrain the young man's anger.
Yes, Park Martin was an omega, standing at 190 cm tall, and that in itself already sounded like a mockery of conventional ideas about secondary genders.
His figure stretched upward in a thin, almost excessively straight line — long legs, narrow hips, and a dry, defined waist created a feeling of fragility that was deceptive in reality. There was no soft roundness in him, typical of many omegas; on the contrary, his body seemed assembled from sharp lines and angles, as if carved by too careful a hand.
Shoulders — not broad, but even, confidently holding his posture. His collarbones stood out clearly, almost painfully beautiful, especially when the fabric of his shirt slightly parted at his chest. Hands — long, with thin wrists and prominent lean muscles, more like taut strings than strength. There was no massiveness in these hands, but endurance could be felt — the kind that relies not on bulk, but on stubbornness.
Neck — long, exposed, making him seem even taller, even more unreachable. Even when he stood still, there was tension in him, as if his entire body was ready at any moment to lurch from its place — not in panic, but in a sharp, almost predatory movement.
His face only intensified this impression: sharp cheekbones, thin lips, a gaze that lacked the softness typical of omegas. There was no submission in him — only cold detachment and a hidden, tightly compressed rage deep inside.
– I did not agree to this.
– No one asked you. Do you even understand how difficult it was to arrange this marriage? — slamming his hand on the armrest of the sofa, the omega's father shouts, but Martin doesn't even flinch; he's already used to everything that happens in this house.
– Who asked you? I was living my own life! I graduated with honors from university as an architect, was the best in my class, and now I'm working in my profession, following in your footsteps just as you wanted. What more do you lack? — Martin also raises his voice.
The young man never wanted to continue the family business; he much preferred holding a guitar in his hands and plucking the strings with his fingers, rather than drawing plans for a new building with a thin pencil and then overseeing the construction process. It brought him no pleasure; on the contrary, it suffocated him with its monotony.
But music was different.
With every note, with every instrument, everything changed. Martin could create without pressure from others, for his own pleasure, for his own dream. But his father was fiercely against it, and his mother could say nothing to her husband, not even to protect her son.
– You're twenty-two. You should have been married long ago, and when a candidate appears who voluntarily agreed to this marriage, you want to refuse?
– Don't act like you don't understand, Martin. Not many are willing to take an omega like you as a husband. So you will silently sign the documents, and just as silently perform your omega duties.
So that was it. How could Martin forget? His father hated that his eldest son was an omega; he had become a disappointment to him. When Martin's first heat began at fifteen, Park Sojun couldn't believe it, but the scent of cold tea with notes of bergamot hanging in the air was undeniable proof. Perhaps Park Sojun might have somehow made peace with his son being an omega, if Martin were the kind of omega who resembled others.
But Martin was not.
He lacked that very softness inherent to omegas.
He was not pliable.
He was not obedient.
Martin was strength, intelligence, perseverance, and stubbornness.
When the omega came to himself after the painful first heat, he realized that his father was disappointed — he wouldn't even look at him, ignoring him with his entire demeanor, making clear his attitude toward him now.
Martin felt hurt.
It wasn't as if he had chosen his secondary gender, had he? He didn't possess such abilities. And if he had, he would have preferred to be a beta — neither the struggle for supremacy like an alpha, nor the difficult fate of an omega. But life had its own plans for him, which in no way aligned with his own. However, instead of giving up, Martin decided to prove that even being an omega, he could do everything. And the young man was even doing well. He enrolled where his parents directed him, painfully saying goodbye to his dream of music, of the freedom that music gave him.
And Martin was confident he was managing.
Until today.
Until those terrible words spoken by his father earlier.
Marriage. An alpha. Children. Kim Juhoon.
Kim Juhoon.
Martin had heard of this alpha. He was twenty-nine, meaning the alpha was seven years older than him. Juhoon had been the deputy general director for four years, and his grandfather still wouldn't hand over the reins of management to his grandson. And perhaps, if Martin guessed correctly, marriage and heirs might be the very factor holding him back from such a step. If rumors were to be believed, Kim Juhoon was a calm alpha; he had never been caught in the company of any omegas. All he did was work — according to his assistants, if Juhoon had his way, he would be at work twenty-four seven. And Martin thinks: well, he might as well marry his job. But he understands that's foolish. A job won't give you offspring, which apparently Juhoon's grandfather is waiting for.
– The meeting is in two days. You need to sign the documents, and at the end of the week you'll move in with him. The Kims have asked to do without a lavish wedding for now, — his father's voice brings Martin back to reality, striking him with injustice — though as if he weren't used to it? He understands that arguing with his father is useless. Even if Martin refuses, he'll be locked in his room until the day of the contract signing, and for the meeting itself, they'll drag him in ropes, and perhaps even with a bag over his head. From Park Sojun, anything can be expected.
– I'll sign the contract. But you do understand that I won't be the omega he wants?
– That's not a problem.
Well then, Martin's life is changing, and he never could have imagined it would all turn out this way when he arrived at this damned house in the center of Gangnam that morning.
– The chairman is waiting for you, — says the beta, the secretary of the general director of the Kim Corporation, gesturing for him to enter.
The alpha nods, walking past, leaving behind a trail of the scent of old books with an echo of rain.
– Director.
The man with graying hair turns at the voice, looking at his grandson who bows to him in greeting.
– Sit down.
Juhoon sits down opposite his grandfather, waiting to see what task he had come up with for him this time. After his father's death, his grandfather took him and his younger brother Seonghyeon under his wing, and raised them as if preparing them not for running a company, but for war. Although, after so many years working here, he might even be somewhat grateful — Juhoon needed all his strength to strengthen his position, just as his grandfather demanded. Juhoon was an alpha — he gave the impression of a man whose presence was felt immediately — quietly, but weightily.
There was no ostentatious massiveness in his figure, but a collected strength could be felt: broad shoulders, straight posture, confident, measured movements without unnecessary haste.
He carried himself calmly, almost coldly, restraining every movement, every emotion. His gaze was direct, heavy, with no attempt to please — and that was precisely why one didn't want to look away.
People rarely said unnecessary things around him.
And not because he demanded silence — but because it arose on its own.
– In two days, you need to go to sign a contract, — leaning back in his chair, Kim Woobin begins, and understanding that his grandson, without objecting, is waiting for him to continue, he goes on:
– A contract with the Park architects. Park Martin, the eldest son of Park Sojun. You will marry him, — Woobin reports in an everyday tone, observing Juhoon's reaction, but the younger man doesn't even blink, remaining as calm as ever, and the scent of old books hanging in the air doesn't change, making it clear that the alpha is indeed truly unruffled.
– Alright, — Juhoon agrees impassively.
– Anything else?
– Ideally, your own pup should appear in the near future, and then I will hand over management to you.
There it was. In every other way, he was ideal for his grandfather. He carried out all his orders without any arguments. But marriage… that was the one thing Juhoon had refused all along. But apparently he too had grown tired of this whole matter, so this time he agreed without dispute.
– If the omega is ready, — Juhoon replies calmly.
– Even if we marry because of a contract, I cannot force him to get pregnant immediately, — the younger alpha continues quietly.
– You're giving them a great deal with this contract. You have every right to do so, — hearing his grandfather's words, the alpha shakes his head.
– No, I don't, — Juhoon refuses again without any explanation. And Kim Woobin has no choice but to silently accept it.
– Without a pup, you won't get management. You're dismissed, — the older alpha says, turning his attention back to his documents.
Juhoon rises from his seat and, bowing in farewell, leaves his grandfather's office.