The snappish question jolted fully awake. I sprang up from where I’d been slumped over.
“N-No... Oh gosh! CEO, why would you handle sothing like this yourself...? Y-You’re not hurt, are you...?”
My survival instincts kicked back in with a vengeance. If I ssed this up, I could end up the sa way. That danger alert blared loudly in my head. I pulled a handkerchief out of the inner pocket of my jacket and wrapped it around Yoon Taeo’s hand. I could still vividly feel the sticky, warm liquid coating his skin.
It was even worse up close. I didn’t know how he’d smashed the guy’s head, but thick streams of blood ran down the entire face like a curtain. It wasn’t just terrifying—it was sickening.
“U-Urgh...!”
In the end, I couldn’t hold back the wave of nausea and stumbled into the alley to throw up. Thank god I hadn’t eaten breakfast.
“S-Sorry... I’m sorry....”
The first thought that hit after vomiting was: I’m so fucked...
“C-CEO, I’m feeling a bit under the weather today...”
Yoon Taeo didn’t even touch the handkerchief I’d placed on the back of his hand. He just stood there, exactly as he was. His eyes still looked half gone, like they were rolled back in his head. The only difference now was the cigarette butt in his left hand, and the thick, white smoke curling out of his mouth. If anything, he might be in an even worse mood.
“You saw sweating earlier, right...? Hah... I was dizzy...”
I scrambled to make excuses, but Yoon Taeo’s expression remained completely unchanged. And then, with a flick of his hand, he stubbed the barely-smoked cigarette out on that bloody mass—no, Director Kim’s smashed-up head. His gaze was still locked onto mine, unwavering. Judging by the faint twitch in Director Kim’s body, he hadn’t quite passed on yet.
“...CEO...”
At this point, the dizziness wasn’t even a lie. I’d ssed up so badly this morning, there was no excuse for whatever punishnt might follow.
I started walking, feeling that stare slice right through the skin of my face. He could easily blow my head clean off the second I got near—but trying to run or buy ti would only raise that probability. In other words, I didn’t really have a choice.
“...I’m sorry...”
How many tis had I said that today? I finished wiping down the back of /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ his hand, the one still stuck with the handkerchief. Why was his hand so damn big? One punch from that and my skull would shatter for sure. It was an irony that I had to delicately clean the very hand that might one day cave in my face.
If I rembered right, there was so kind of cursed phrase in the original script that spelled death for everyone around Yoon Taeo. “I’m sorry.” The mont anyone said it, they’d end up a cold corpse before the words even left their mouth. It was how the original made sure to show just how rciless Yoon Taeo was. And I’d been repeating that phrase all morning with this stupid mouth of mine.
“Let’s go. We’re really late.”
The voice startled . I looked up at Yoon Taeo. I’d been bracing for punishnt, obviously, but without another word, he just turned and walked off, getting into the SUV I’d brought from the garage.
...What the hell is this...? The fact that nothing happened was more unsettling. I suppressed my confusion and climbed into the driver’s seat. At the very least, for now, I was safe.
“Take care of that.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes...”
“I better not see it again.”
“Of course, of course, CEO! You don’t have to worry.”
Well, it’s not like I’m so great person either. Not only had I almost lost my own head today, now I was stuck personally chauffeuring Yoon Taeo to the company like so glorified errand boy.
“I’ll have Security Team 3 take care of it.”
“Do whatever.”
Calling it a “security team” was putting it nicely—they were basically a bunch of gangsters. Unlike Yoon Taeo’s brand of nace, these guys were brutal in a more traditional, thuggish way. I bet they’d even enjoy taking care of sothing like this.
“Ugh, my back hurts.”
“Right? The roadwork in Seoul has been terrible lately. I have no idea where our taxes are going...”
“Secretary Kim. Do you really think that?”
Yeah, right. I only said it to stay alive. I wish he’d just play along, but no, he never lets anything slide.
“...I’m sorry...”
Yoon Taeo has a love-hate relationship with SUVs. He enjoys driving them himself but hates being a passenger. Probably because the back seat is a little cramped, by SUV standards. Though, honestly, compared to a regular car, it’s basically paradise.
“Shall I make a lunch reservation for Italian today, CEO?”
“Dunno. Just pick sothing you think I’ll like.”
...Shit. I only said that to break the awkward silence, but now it’s a high-stakes gamble. If his beta likes the food I pick, I break even. If not... I’ll end up taking all the heat for it. You don’t need to be a genius to guess how that plays out.
“...I’ll have Secretary Team 2 handle the arrangents.”
Thank god. That kind of company business is outside my departnt. I could just pass the task along. As long as I said “The CEO instructed it,” no one would dare refuse.
Our secretary division is split into three teams. Team 1, my team, handles Yoon Taeo’s daily life—think ho and private matters. Team 2 focuses on company affairs. They handle incidents during work hours and try to prevent them, too. Then there’s Team 3, which deals with the hidden side of the company’s business. They’re closely tied to Security Team 3 and operate more... under the radar.
“We’ve arrived, CEO.”
Would you believe if I said I drove like a maniac? I had to factor in his ride comfort, too, so I felt like I’d aged ten years just from the drive. Thankfully, we made it to the company lobby just in ti.
“I’ll see you tonight, CEO.”
I parked the car haphazardly near the front and escorted him and his bag to the elevator. Then I handed off the bag to a pre-arranged staff mber from Secretary Team 2. Driving wasn’t even technically my job, but whatever. The fact that I’d survived the morning gave a belated sense of relief.
“Secretary Kim.”
The elevator doors, which were about to close, opened again. Yoon Taeo stepped out and started walking toward .
“Your work’s been especially sloppy today.”
“I—I’m sor... Hic!”
His hand landed squarely on my shoulder, and the words caught in my throat. Of course. There’s no way this psycho bastard would let all those little mistakes slide. Maybe he’d decided to clean up my ss right along with Director Kim. I’d made a lot of unintentional screwups, I could admit that.
“CEO...!”
Should I just drop to my knees? No, wait—so guy once did that, begging for rcy, and ended up crippled for life... Just as I opened my mouth to say sothing—anything—Yoon Taeo’s hand moved. It slipped inside his coat, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
...Did I leave a knife in there by any chance...?
“What are you doing? Take it.”
When I cautiously opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, his eyebrow was slightly arched in disapproval.
“What... is this, CEO...?”
One of his hands held his wallet. The other was gripping a fat wad of yellow bills.
“Stop by the hospital before you go ho.”
“...S-Sir...?”
“You said you weren’t feeling well.”
“...?”
“Secretary Team 3 will take over your duties.”
I was still trying to make sense of what the hell he was talking about when Yoon Taeo shoved the wad of cash into my hand, turned around, and stepped into the elevator. Like a reflexive machine trained by habit, I bent at the waist and bowed, even though I had no clue what was happening.
“It’d be wise not to repeat today, Secretary Kim.”
That was all he said before the elevator ascended. Still bent over in that bow, I stayed in place and thought: so... that was him giving one last chance, right? Maybe this money he handed ... was actually a death fee. It was a lot, sure, but the bills felt heavier than they should.
❖ ❖ ❖
You could say my daily duties truly begin the mont Yoon Taeo leaves for work.
Just in one day, he sheds at least three outfits, six towels minimum, plus bathrobes, bed linens, underwear, socks—all of it gets sorted and tossed into the wash. His suits and shirts are sent to a dry cleaner certified by the British royal family, but the rest, I handle myself. Twelve bedrooms, eight bathrooms, two living rooms, and a garden. This absurdly oversized mansion is the sole domain of Secretary Team 1.
“Fucking... bastard! Shit, why the hell is this house so goddamn big?! Fuck!”
I collapsed on the floor, vacuum cleaner abandoned mid-run. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I’m the team leader of Team 1, but unfortunately, there are no team mbers left. The last guy got “processed” last week after missing a scratch on Yoon Taeo’s shoe. I’d requested replacent staff from HR, stressing the urgency, but all I got back was that there were no suitable candidates for imdiate deploynt due to the “nature of the job.”
“Who the hell is gonna slit Yoon Taeo’s throat, seriously...”
Still, what choice did I have? I couldn’t exactly neglect housework, so I’d been doing it all alone for nearly a week. I’d have brought in outside help if I could, but Yoon Taeo was ridiculously suspicious of people and hated letting anyone into the house. He rarely even brought ho the betas he supposedly liked.
“...The hell is this?”
Right as I was sprawled on the floor, I heard a few overlapping, low-pitched voices. Startled by the sound of intruders in the supposedly empty house, I scrambled upright—only to be greeted by a bunch of familiar faces.
“...What... brings you all here...?”
Truly, the last people I ever wanted to see.
“How did we get here, you think?”
Each of them had a vicious gleam in their eyes... an aura like they’d already torn a few people limb from limb on the way here. The Alpha-only elite unit—Security Team 3.
“I-I told you earlier I’d like Director Kim handled...”
Dressed in black suits without ties, they looked more like a pack of street thugs than actual security. Laughter burst out of them all at once. I couldn’t bla them. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded far too terrified... shaking, pathetic.
“You think we haven’t already taken care of that, Secretary?”
Team Leader Kang Seokho. A man with geotric tattoos starting at his eyebrows, running down his cheeks, past his neck, and disappearing under his shirt. His eyes were serpent-like, and his fra was massive. He started approaching . There was a wide smile plastered across his face, but he looked like he was wondering what would be the most fun way to kill .
“T-Then why...?”
No way. No fucking way. Did Yoon Taeo really send them... to deal with ? Sure, I’d made a few mistakes this morning, but he even gave cash and told to go to the hospital... So that was just a parting rcy?
“You really don’t get it? Of course we’re here because of you.”
Judging by what Kang Seokho said, that was exactly it. I shouldn’t have co ho to clean. I should’ve run the mont I left the car. Kang Seokho grabbed my shoulder and raised his hand. One look at that pan-sized fist, and there was no mistaking it—yeah, I should’ve run. Regret hit too late.
...Ah... So this is how my life ends... in so twisted, fucked-up world like this.
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