Cozy Obsession

Chapter 14

Stopping tomorrow morning’s inauguration was nearly impossible, so tonight, no matter what, he had to find a way to close the distance between himself and Cha Iheon. That was the only way to prepare for whatever situation might unfold tomorrow.

Instead of taking the books out of the paper bag, Heemin placed them in a corner of the living room. Then, he approached Secretary Jung, who stood motionless with a blank expression, and spoke up.

"Secretary Jung."

"Yes. Please speak."

"Are you working overtime again today because of me?"

"No."

His sisters, who worked at companies, didn’t just dislike overtime—they outright despised it. Who in their right mind would willingly work beyond their designated hours? But Secretary Jung seemed to follow Cha Iheon’s orders 24/7 without even the slightest hint of personal preference. There was no doubt he was a truly devoted subordinate.

"How much do you get paid per month, Secretary Jung?"

Since he was a man of few words, Heemin threw out a question he had been curious about for a while, hoping to continue the conversation.

"My salary, sir?"

"Yes."

"......."

Maybe he had been too direct. Seeing the fleeting flicker of discomfort in Secretary Jung’s expression, Heemin was about to add, I just wondered if the boss was overworking you, but before he could, Secretary Jung opened his mouth.

"He takes care of me well."

"Oh. I see."

So the rewards were generous enough to make working around the clock worthwhile. Well, it made sense—considering what he had done for Ms. Ahn and her son, Kim Minseok, Cha Iheon clearly knew how to make his subordinates listen.

It would’ve been nice if that ability had been used on Seo Heemin as well.

Now that he had gotten his answer, Secretary Jung looked at him as if telling him to take his books and head back to his room. Heemin glanced briefly at the surveillance camera mounted on the ceiling before stopping his small talk and getting to the point.

"What time is the boss coming home today?"

"I don’t know."

"Can’t you call and ask?"

"He told me not to contact him unless it was urgent. He is attending an important gathering."

The tone was clearly telling him not to bother his boss and to just read his books as usual, but Heemin couldn’t back down without any progress.

"When does this ‘important gathering’ end?"

"It’s difficult to say for certain, but even if it ends early, he might not return home due to preparations for tomorrow’s inauguration."

"He’s not coming home?"

"That’s correct."

The unexpected response hit him like a bolt from the blue. He felt dizzy. If things continued like this, he’d end up spending the night with a completely unrestrained Cha Iheon. Holding his head for a moment to steady his spinning thoughts, Heemin looked at Secretary Jung, who was watching him with concern.

"So, in order to contact him, it has to be urgent, right?"

"Welcome home," Heemin greeted him in relief. Now that he no longer needed to hold onto this terrifying object, a wave of relief washed over him. But as soon as he spoke, Iheon’s expression twisted into something vicious.

Taking a step forward, Iheon closed the distance between them. The space around him seemed to warp, distorting under the weight of his presence.

His jet-black dress shirt, deep navy tie, and sharply tailored jacket exuded the same cold intensity as his dark eyes. Unlike his usual composed self, his eyes were sunken with exhaustion, and his appearance was slightly disheveled—he must have come here in a hurry.

Iheon tilted his head, glaring down at Heemin. His stare was sharper than any blade, slicing through him like a harpooned fish. Heemin’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

"Ah..."

His grip weakened. The knife slipped from his hand.

In an instant, Iheon moved, catching the knife’s handle before it hit the floor. It was as if the blade was magnetically drawn into his bandaged hand.

"Ugh!"

At the same time, he grabbed Heemin by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

The dull impact sent a dizzying pain through his back, but before he could fully process it, the very knife he had just dropped was embedded into the wall—right next to his face.

A shiver ran down his spine. He turned his eyes slightly to the side, only to see the knife wedged deep into the wall like a nailed-down stake.

"‘Welcome home’? Do you have a death wish?" Iheon sneered, his lips twisting with unrestrained irritation.

His breath was hot against Heemin’s cheek. Overwhelming pheromones pressed down on him, suffocating in their intensity. The sheer physical gap between them was undeniable. Heemin shrank under the pressure.

"You just cost me a fifty-billion-won deal. Let’s see if your reason for calling me is worth it."

Iheon had once said he would deduct one billion won per night spent with him.

Not ten times. Not fifty.

At this rate, it might have to be a hundred times.

This was practically an order to dedicate his life to nothing but that.

A sickening chill crawled through his body. Just the thought made his legs weak.

If he died of exhaustion before reaching the ending, what then?

His vision darkened. His limbs turned ice cold.

This had been a terrible idea.

"Why aren’t you answering? Weren’t you angry at me?"

Iheon’s mocking tone stabbed into his chest. Heemin could feel the weight of his glare even without looking up.

His eyes burned with unshed tears.

"I... I..."

"What, crying now?"

"...Hngh."

How the hell am I supposed to do this a hundred times?