The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 18

~Ye Jun~

Dinner at the Choi family estate felt like walking into a trap dressed up as a five-course meal. Si-woo had basically dragged me here after work, muttering something about family obligation bullshit and just sit there and look pretty, don’t talk too much. Like I was his accessory for the night. Which, fine, whatever seduction plan still in effect, right? Play nice, look fuckable, make him sweat. Except the second we stepped through the door his dad Mr. Choi Senior, voice like gravel wrapped in money zeroed in on Si-woo like a missile.

"Si-woo-," he started before we even sat down, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make my teeth rattle from across the table. "You’re quite of age now. Time’s ticking. When are you bringing home a proper wife? Your grandmother’s been asking every day."

Si-woo’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. He didn’t look up. Just kept staring at his plate like it had personally offended him. "Sir. Not tonight please."

His dad tugged a tight smile rich people do when they’re about to say something vicious leaned forward. "It’s not not tonight, son. It’s every night. We have the Lee family’s daughter lined up. She’s beautiful, educated, from good stock. You two would make such handsome children."

I almost choked on my water. Handsome children. Jesus Christ.

Si-woo finally lifted his head. Jaws so tight I could see the muscle jump. "I’m not interested."

His dad laughed short, fake, the kind that doesn’t reach the eyes. "Not interested? You think the company runs itself? You need stability. A wife. Heirs. Someone who understands the family name. Not.... " He waved a hand vaguely " those cheap whore and distractions you always fucked with."

I felt the heat crawl up my neck. Distractions, wow, cute real fucking cute.

Mom turned her head toward me. Her eyes flicked over me, shirt, hair, the way I was slouched in the chair like I didn’t give a shit and her lips thinned. She didn’t say a word. Just looked away again.

I laughed under my breath. Si-woo’s knee knocked mine under the table hard like a warning. Shut up.

But I didn’t shut up.

"So," I said, loud enough for the whole table to hear, grinning like an idiot. "Are we really selling off the eldest son of the house.... " I picked up my chopsticks, balanced them in between my fingers like a pro. "Ta-da."

Dead silence.

Si-woo’s dad stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Mom’s mouth pinched so tight it disappeared. Si-woo kicked me again harder.

"Ye-jun," mom hissed under her breath.

"What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You guys are so serious about marriage it’s giving me hives."

His dad cleared his throat. "Ye jun. Control your mouth."

Ouch. That one actually stung a little.

Si-woo’s hand clenched around his knife. "What did we expect from such a lousy mouth "

The phone in Si-woo’s pocket buzzed. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, face going blank. "Excuse me." He stood up, chair scraping, and walked out of the dining room without another word.

I sat there staring at my half-eaten steak, feeling like the world’s biggest joke.

A minute later I heard his voice from the hallway low, tense, arguing with someone on the phone.

I shouldn’t have listened. But I did.

"...yes, dad already started. No, I’m not doing it. I told you I’m not marrying her. Or anyone. Stop pushing."

Pause.

"I said no. I’m handling it. There’s someone yeah. No, it’s not like that. It’s complicated. Just drop it."

Another pause. Longer.

"I don’t need your advice on this. I know what I’m doing."

He hung up.

I sat frozen, fork forgotten in my hand.

Complicated. Someone. Handling it.

He came back in, face shuttered, sat down like nothing happened.

I stared at him across the table. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

The rest of dinner passed in this awful, suffocating silence. Dad and mom kept throwing marriage hints like grenades. Si-woo kept deflecting. I kept my mouth shut for once because every time I opened it I felt like I was going to scream or laugh or cry or all three at the same time.

When dessert came I pushed my chair back. "I need air."

Si-woo’s eyes snapped to me. "Sit."

"No thanks." I stood up. "I’m not hungry for cake or this perfect family’s bullshit anymore."

Mom gasped. His dad’s face went red.

Mom stood up and hit the tabld. "Ye-jun... "

"Save it." I walked out. Fast. Through the stupid fancy hallway, past the stupid fancy paintings, out the front door into the cold night air.

I didn’t wait for a cab. I just started walking. Fast. Like if I moved quick enough I could outrun the way my chest felt cracked open.

Si woo found me twenty minutes later jogging up behind me on the sidewalk, breath fogging in the streetlights.

"Ye-jun, stop."

I kept walking.

He grabbed my arm. Spun me around.

I yanked free. "Don’t touch me."

"What the hell was that back there?"

"Me? You’re the one who dragged me to this family dinner like I’m your fucking show pony. I’m still adjusting to your dad and how I disappointed both him and mum so I’m not exactly a good kid now. And then you stand there while they talk about wives and heirs and pretend I don’t exist? While you’re on the phone telling someone it’s ’complicated’ and you’re ’handling’ me?"

His face changed, eyes widening, then narrowing. "You were eavesdropping."

"Yeah. I was. Because apparently I’m just a complication you’re handling. A distraction. A dirty little secret you keel when no one’s looking and then shove under the table when Mommy and Daddy want grandkids."

"That’s not.. Wait what the fuck, do you actually think I can want something to do with you? What the fuck is even wrong with you?"

"You crazy little some of a bitch?" I laughed sharp and ugly. "You’re such a fucking dick!?"

He stepped closer. Voice low. "You think I wanted you there so they could talk about marriage ? I brought you because I want dad to see how good I am at this."

"Bullshit." My voice cracked. I hated it. "You could’ve said something. Anything. Instead you just sat there like a coward."

"I’m not a coward."

"Then prove it." I shoved his chest. Hard. "Tell your dad you’re not marrying some perfect little heiress. Tell him you’re too busy wanting to fuck your step brother to care about heirs. Go on. Say it."

He stared at me. Breathing hard. Eyes dark and stormy.

I laughed again... bitter and broken. "Yeah. Thought so."

I turned to walk away.

He grabbed my wrist. Yanked me back. "Don’t walk away from me."

"Why not? You’ve been walking away from your feeling since the first time you kissed me."

His grip tightened. "I’m not walking away. What the fuck is fricking wrong with you? ."

"Then what are you doing? Because from where I’m standing you’re just stringing me along until you can marry whoever they pick and pretend this never happened."

"That’s exactly what should and will happen bro and... " He stopped. Swallowed. Voice dropped. "I don’t want anymore oh this ."

I froze.

He stepped closer. Close enough I could feel his heat. "I don’t want a wife. I don’t want heirs. I want... " He cut off. Jaw working. "I want you to stop looking at me like I’m using you. We both want this"

" You fucking piece of shit. Shibal you, what the hell was I even expecting from you. "

I kissed him then hard and desperate, right there on the sidewalk like I didn’t care who saw. Hands in his hair, mouth on his.

He pulled back .

We broke apart gasping.

"Team party’s tonight," he muttered against my lips. "You’re coming."

"I don’t want to.... "

"You’re coming." He grabbed my hand. Started walking. "And you’re staying close."

The team party was at some overpriced rooftop bar lights strung up, music thumping, people already half-drunk by the time we got there. I headed straight for the bar. Ordered shot after shot. Si-woo hovered nearby, glaring at anyone who got too close, but I ignored him.

I drank because I was pissed.

I drank because I was hurt.

I drank because every time I looked at him my chest ached so bad I wanted to punch something.

By the third tequila I was buzzing hard world tilting, tongue loose, filter gone.

I stumbled over to where he was standing with a couple of the senior designers, grabbed his tie, yanked him down to my level.

"Si si," I slurred, grinning sloppy. "Dance with me."

He glanced around people watching. "You’re drunk."

"No shit. Dance."

"I don’t dance."

I laughed loud, obnoxious. "Of course you don’t. Too busy being perfect Choi Si-woo. Too busy pretending you don’t want this." I pressed my body against his. Hips grinding slowly.

His hands landed on my waist hard. "Stop."

"Why?" I leaned up. Lips brushing his ear. "Scared they’ll see? Scared Daddy will find out his precious son likes dick?"

His fingers dug in. "Ye-jun."

I pulled back. Looked him dead in the eye. "Fuck me."

The words came out louder than I meant. A couple heads turned.

Si-woo’s face went white. Then red.

I didn’t care.

"Fuck me," I said again. Slower. Clearer. "Right now. Upstairs. Bathroom. Wherever. Show me you’re not disgusted. Show me I’m not just some dirty secret you’re ashamed of."

He stared at me.

I swayed a little. Grinned. "What? Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy thinking about that perfect wife they want you to marry?"

His jaw ticked.

I laughed sharp and mean. "Yeah. Thought so."

I turned to walk away stumbling, drunk, heart hammering.

He grabbed my arm. Hard.

Pulled me toward the stairs.

Up.

Into the private VIP room at the top.

The door slammed shut.

He shoved me against the wall.

Eyes blazing.

"Say it again."

I grinned feral, sloppy, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

"Fuck me, Si-woo. Prove you don’t hate me."