Shackles

Chapter 2

They came out of the storage room as if nothing had happened. One of the bodyguards opened the door for Tae-sung while Do-yoon looked hesitant. His hair covered his eyes again. As the wind blew the strands of his hair, his amber-brown eyes shimmered in chastity.

Tae-sung glanced at his guard. He said, “He's coming with me," and shifted his gaze at Do-yoon, who stood guardedly. Tae-sung narrowed his brow and said, "What are you standing for? Get inside the car." A cold stare from his furious eyes.

Do-yoon’s eyes jolted as he fidgeted his right fingernail on his side. He looked down for a moment and felt anxious. Do I have a choice? Father left me with this man I didn’t even know.

"Hey," Tae-sung sounded irate as his brow scowled at him. "Do I have to repeat myself, Do-yoon ssi?"

As if listening to Tae-sung's voice was like someone drowning underwater.

Do-yoon strolled, hopped into the car, and sat on the left side of the vehicle. The driver glanced at the rearview mirror as his forehead perspired. Not to say a single word.

Tae-sung also got into the car and sat next to him. Do-yoon saw how Tae-sung put on the seat belt. And so, he copied the same thing that Tae-sung did. He noticed Do-yoon. His lips curved into a smirk, and he thought, What a timid little rabbit.

Buckled click.

Do-yoon felt nervous. It was his first time riding in a car, and he clasped his hands on his lap. He looked out the dented window. He saw his reflection with the busted and swollen lips from the kissing.

His eyelids glanced down, and he felt the sensation from Tae-sung's rough lips. It tickled his skin. But at the same time, he looked perturbed. He can't say no. He has no power to do so since he can't hear well unless he reads their lips.

Tae-sung gave him an eye mask and said, "Put this on and cover your eyes." He used his left hand to act.

Do-yoon gulped as he took the mask. I'd better follow what he says. I don't want to get beaten like my father did to me. He followed Tae-sung’s instructions again like a good boy.

It was pitch black in his presence. He felt uncomfortable and frightened. He smelled someone's breath who had…his smoke.

Did he smoke? Do-yoon pondered.

"Don't take it off until I say so," said Tae-sung in a composed tone. "Let's go." He told the driver to leave.

Do-yoon nodded and felt uneasy. He behaved like he had always done―controlled by his father. 

And now, possessed by someone else’s obsession.

The engine started and left the tormented place. The speed was smooth yet fast. They had been sitting for an hour.

Where are they taking me? Do-yoon thought. He couldn't see anything except the sound of modern music played on a radio.

Tae-sung was reading something on his phone. It was news about his half-brother, Lee Joon-Ho, who secluded himself from the outside world. And the psychological trauma he had been through for losing his fiancée, who was an omega.

After the incident of Lee Joon-Ho, it was believed that he had left the XY Group of Companies. It could be because his late fiancée, Han Na-ri caused the psychological trauma of the bond they made. Some of the board members were questioning his stability. Whether he is still capable of handling the responsibilities as the youngest CEO of the company. Some speculated that Lee Joon-Ho may no longer return to work. Believing that he may transfer all his assets to one of Chairman Lee’s trusted board members―

“What do you think of the news that came out today?” Tae-sung asked his secretary, who was sitting at the right front of the car seat.

“Well,” Secretary Choi moved his eyeglasses and added, “It’s been only 6 months. So it’s hard to speculate if that is true.” He then shifted his glance to Do-yoon. “He moved to his private villa to recuperate and stayed proactive with his status as the CEO. Nonetheless, there is no guarantee that he is not to return.”

Tae-sung crossed his arms with his wicked smile. He scoffed, “Oh well, it will not be long until we force him to transfer all his assets to me.” He chortled. “If he did give me what I wanted, he wouldn’t have suffered much.”

Secretary Choi didn’t say a word. He just glanced at the rear mirror, looking at Tae-sung's mischievous smile. He didn’t want to be on the bad side with either of them. Neither with Chairman Lee. He knows Tae-sung was a madman whom not everyone would trust.

No wonder he did that to his only half-brother.

What is the chairman even thinking? Does he want his two sons to kill each other who is better fit to be the chairman in future?

He sighed. Not looking back. Silence filled the car for a moment. And Do-yoon dozed off. He was tired of the psychological torment he had to endure. 

Secretary Choi changed the topic. “By the way, Sir," he said. "The VVIP members of the Dark Club are requesting fresh omegas in their next big event party,” He said in a low tone. He glanced at the rear mirror, looking at Tae-sung's annoyed face.

“Argh—,” Tae-sung held his forehead. He felt a bit distressed. He said, “How many do they want this time?”

“Five at least,” said Secretary Choi.

Those lunatics couldn’t handle their rut well. Tae-sung seethed.

“Then, check all our debtors with high debts,” Tae-sung's tone sounded irate. “Check if those freeloaders have sons or daughters who are omegas at the right age. And take them to the Dark Club as collateral payment.”

“But, Sir,” Secretary Choi felt worried.

“Are you fucking deaf?!” Tae-sung gritted his teeth. “All they do is open their goddamn legs to those suckers, problem solve.” His voice became livid, “Call Da-won and tell them what I told you so. Understand?!”

“Yes, Sir,” Secretary Choi's throat tensed. And called Da-won.

By midnight, they arrived at his private villa two hours away from the main city of Gangnam. It was an open villa surrounded by surveillance cameras. The trees rustled in calmness, and the moonlight was bright above their heads. The cool breeze never ceased to pass by.

A guard opened the door for Tae-sung. He got out of the car and flicked his blazer. He signalled the other guard to open the other door.

“Be careful of what you’re pulling out of that door,” he glared at the slim shady guard.

“Yes, Sir,” the guard said.

He pulled out Do-yoon from the side door in a gentle movement.

"Come out," the slim guard said. 

Do-yoon hopped out of the car. He couldn’t see anything. He moved his head from side to side. Up and down. The smell of the fresh breeze welcomed him. The trees swayed from the blast of wind, and the crickets' sounds murmured in his ears. He felt cold for a moment.

And the guard pulled his left elbow to move forward.

Where am I?

He looked hopeless behind the eye mask.

When he got inside the house, a glimpse of light shone above his forehead. He struggled to see. Yet he imagined he was inside a massive, bright house.

Secretary Choi followed Tae-sung behind, and Do-yoon stood in the middle behind the main door. Tae-sung used his eye to signal the guard to leave. And so the guard left. 

Tae-sung strolled to the home bar. He took a rocks glass and poured his favorite whisky without ice. He averted his gaze at Do-yoon, who fidgeted with his fingers while standing still. Tensed. And sweaty temples.

He’s so thin.

He’ll not survive if I pound him. “Tsk.” He mumbled and drank his whisky in one go. 

“What do you intend to do with that young man, Sir?” Secretary Choi asked.

“I’ll keep him here for now,” said Tae-sung, adding, “Find me a good housekeeper who can cook and attend to him until he turns 18.” He continued. “A housekeeper who can keep her mouth shut. You know what I mean.”

“Understood,” Secretary Choi replied. He glanced at Do-yoon's timid posture.

He only allows Omega to be here during his rut.

This guy is a recessive omega with a disability.

I don't know what he's planning to do with him, who doesn’t seem to know what kind of dungeon he entered. 

“Now, leave us,” Tae-sung said. But, he added, “Oh, but before you leave, bring me a pen and a notebook.”

Pen and a notebook? Secretary Choi pondered. He turned around and sighed. He took a pen and a notebook out from his satchel office bag. He placed it on the coffee table in the living room.

"Sir, I left the pen and notebook on the coffee table," said Secretary Choi. He added, "I'll come to see you sometime soon again."

Tae-sung looked as Secretary Choi left the house. He took another glass of whisky and approached Do-yoon, whose head kept looking around behind the black eye mask.

He looked pitiful. How did he even survive with his foster father, who beat him all the time?

Tae-sung looked at him from head to toe. He drank his whisky. Do-yoon could smell the strong scent of the alcohol. He looked up and wondered what was going on. He tightened his right fist against his loose shirt. His heart palpitated, and he looked anxious. Then, he bit his lower lip.

Tae-sung, in silence, stared, stunned by Do-yoon's enticing demeanor. He grabbed Do-yoon's right hand and led him to the living room. They both sat on the sofa. He put the glass of whisky on the table and gazed at Do-yoon’s peach lips, dried with blood.

He slid his right thumb on Do-yoon’s lips. In slow motion from right to left, and again left to right. Do-yoon’s shoulder flinched from his soft touch. Then Tae-sung gently pushed his right thumb between Do-yoon’s lips.

His eyes jolted as his mouth opened. Tae-sung caressed his tongue in a circular motion. And then pressed the center of his tongue down. “Ngh,” The sound of Do-yoon’s beating heart skipped. He wanted to see Tae-sung or his reaction. His body shivered from the tingling feeling he couldn’t understand.

"Ngh," he let out a soft moan. He felt a tickling sensation in his body.

Tae-sung was about to snap from the pleasure his thumb was feeling. So he stopped and pulled out his right thumb.

Do-yoon gasped to breathe. And Tae-sung removed the eye cover.

The sharp light stung Do-yoon’s eyes, as he blinked his eyes thrice. He rubbed his eyes like a child who just... woke up. Yet a gentle smile captivated his gaze. It was Tae-sung. Staring at him, and shifted his eyes to Tae-sung's lips.

“You’ve done well, Do-yoon ssi,” said Tae-sung. His poker face was mesmerizing.

“Ah, ah,” Do-yoon cleared his throat, trying to speak at least. “W-where am I?” It sounded throaty. He looked around the spacious house filled with expensive things.

Everything was so new to him. He then looked at Tae-sung, writing something in the notebook and showed it to him.

Do-yoon read the message on the paper.

“This is my house. You’ll stay here until you turn 18.”

Do-yoon looked as naive as he thought. Can I stay here? He seemed like a good person, but my intuition says he is not. He glanced down to his left. What should I do? Can I leave here when I turn 18?

He opened his hands toward Tae-sung. Tae-sung looked surprised. “I-I write, too,” said Do-yoon. Tae-sung gave him the pen and notebook. 

Do-yoon wrote the simple words he knew and showed them to Tae-sung.

Tae-sung's eyes grew wide in disbelief.

“Will you set me free when I’m 18?”

Tae-sung furrowed his brow and didn’t say a word. Instead, he took the notebook and pen away from Do-yoon’s hands.

He wondered and stared at him. His innocence taunted Tae-sung's lustful mind to ravish him to his heart's content. But he controlled himself while Do-yoon was waiting for his good reply. But Tae-sung stood and said, “It’s getting late, Do-yoon ssi,” his bittersweet smile, adding, “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Do-yoon couldn’t comprehend what Tae-sung was thinking. He’s like a cat. So he nodded again like a good boy.

The next day, Do-yoon woke up. His usual blinking of eyes. He was wearing a clean shirt and linen shorts.

But when he removed the blanket, his eyes opened wide in shock to see himself shackled to his left ankle.

Then―