Event: Charity Gala l

Time: 11:30 PM (Midnight)

Date: March 12, 2024

The day Rivert had been anticipating—and dreading—with every fiber of his being had finally arrived. He was attending the event as Ji-wook's VIP, but his mind was a storm of paranoia.

What kind of place is this psychopath taking me to? he wondered as he stood before the mirror. Has he found something out? Is this a public execution or a revelation of my true identity?

He fumbled with his buttons, his fingers uncharacteristically shaky. "What kind of nonsense am I thinking?" he muttered, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. He felt a wave of embarrassment at his own absurdity. He had spent the last few nights sleepless, running through every lethal possibility—a habit born of survival. Now, here he was, terrified that his identity would be exposed while he was dressed like a ballroom dancer.

"Rivert, are you ready? The Chairman is waiting in his office!"

The voice from outside the door was sharp with urgency. Rivert cursed under his breath; he hadn't even finished putting on his blazer. He had scavenged the best suit from his current inventory, though his high-end designer pieces were still back at home. But then again, a man with a face card as lethal as his could pull off anything.

"I'm coming!" he called out.

He slid into his black two-piece suit and styled his silver hair to the side, sharp and precise. A quick spritz of his favorite cologne, Rare Orchid, and he stepped out the door, ready to face the lion's den.

Across the city, the atmosphere was entirely different. At Nova's place, the air was thick with the scent of hairspray and frantic energy.

"Hey, Nova! Do you have a deep ocean-blue tie?" Dohyeon shouted, hopping on one foot as he tried to pull on a sock. In his haste, he was already wearing two different colored socks. Doyeon was a whirlwind of panic, his voice echoing through the small apartment. "Hurry up, hurry up! Even women don't take this long to get ready!"

Nova had been listening to this chaotic chatter for the last thirty minutes, and his patience finally snapped. He picked up his hairbrush and threw it with the precision of a marksman.

Thwack. A direct hit to the back of Dohyeon's head.

"Ow! Watch it!" Dohyeon yelped, ducking the follow-up attack. "We have to hurry! If I'm late again, my uncle will literally skin me alive."

Dohyeon hadn't shared any specifics about where they were going, only that it was a mandatory charity event.

"Why do I even need to go?" Nova hissed, still struggling to tame his thick, stubborn hair. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Dohyeon shamelessly invaded his closet to find a matching tie. "At least tell me what kind of event it is. Is it really necessary to get this dressed up?"

"You'll see when we get there," Dohyeon replied, distracted by the hangers. "No more questions. Since you're busy 'decorating' your hair, I'll find an outfit for you. Do you even own a suit?"

"Nope. Don't have one."

"What? How do you not own a suit? A suit is the crown of a man's wardrobe!"

"I'm sorry I'm not like 'other men,'" Nova shot back dryly.

"You little shit... let me see what kind of crap you do own." Dohyeon stomped toward the other half of the closet. He flung the doors open, and the sight that met him made him lose all faith in humanity.

Nova watched him with a blank expression. "Find anything?"

"Are you... are you serious?" Dohyeon stammered. "How... the... fuck... does your closet have nothing but a massive stock of white shirts?"

Nova bristled. "They aren't just 'white shirts.'"

"Am I blind? What are these then?" Dohyeon gestured wildly at the row of twelve identical-looking shirts.

Nova's eyes sharpened. He stood up and yanked a few hangers forward. "Look closer. They all have different fabrics. This one is Egyptian cotton, this is silk, this is jute, this is—"

"Stop! I get it!" Dohyeon groaned. "But they are still all white! Are you monochromatic or something?"

Nova promptly kicked him out of the room. "Get out. If you don't like my collection, go to your event alone!"

A few minutes later, Nova emerged. The insults to his wardrobe had clearly motivated him. He wore a polyester-blend white shirt that caught the light with a royal sheen. He had parted his hair down the middle with soft waves at the ends, paired with jet-black cotton twill pants and whole-cut shoes.

But it was his face that did the heavy lifting—the striking, rare mix of Korean and Indian features made him look like a modern-day male version of Athena.

"Let's go. I'm ready."

"Hey, you took too much ti—"

The words died in Dohyeon's throat. He turned away quickly, his ears turning a bright, pepper-red. Why did my heart just skip a beat? Dohyeon wondered. He glanced back at Nova, who was following him with a clueless, calm expression.

Dohyeon grumbled to himself as he led the way to the car. He couldn't leave Nova alone tonight, especially what happened few days ago . At least I can protect him if he's right in front of me, he muffled into his collar.

The Grand Ballroom

The ballroom was a sea of covered elegance, hosted by the respected President of Korea to celebrate the nation's growth. The room was packed with high-ranking officials, corporate titans, and members of the old royal bloodlines—and some secret leaders. Those merging with others, watching their actions, calculating their moves to drag them into despair.

But even among these nobles, one figure stood out: Oh Jin-wook, Chairman of the Valkris Group.

His name sat at the very top of the corporate hierarchy, and the "boot-lickers" in the room were practically tripping over themselves just to catch a few crumbs of his attention. Jin-wook stood to the side, maintaining a polite, frozen smile. He ignored most of them, his gaze cold and indifferent to their well-being, yet he greeted everyone with a practiced grace that masked his inner malice.

"I haven't had the chance to say hello to the Chairman yet," a voice purred.

A woman approached him, a fancy glass held delicately in her hand. She was as dazzling as the jewelry she wore. "And who is this handsome young man beside you?" she asked, her eyes sweeping over the man standing next to Jin-wook.

A man of similar age to the Chairman chuckled beside her. "Madam Park, hitting on young men again, I see."

Madam Park adjusted her dress with effortless poise, neatly sidestepping the man's vicious remark. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes flashing toward him. "Always putting your nose in other people's business, a-g-a-i-n," she added sarcastically, lowering her voice just enough to ensure the insult reached his ears.

The man clenched his teeth, but with so many elite eyes watching, he had no choice but to swallow his anger and maintain his upbringing.

(So, this is why he wanted me to come with him... for a charity event?) Rivert thought, silently observing the room. He was deliberately in survival mode, composing himself in a world where the one worry making him shake internally showed no physical activity.

I pray that no one recognizes me here. Hope I don't clash with someone I know; it's gonna mess.

But then—he realized this was a good thing; it was a chance to get clues about exactly how many people were truly working under the Chairman's thumb. Rivert was just about to lose himself in his thoughts when Jin-wook spoke.

"He is my relative's son, Rivert," the Chairman replied.

The cheeky, artificial smile on Oh Jin-wook's face as he described Rivert as a "relative" left Rivert utterly speechless. [What the fuck is this bastard saying?] he cursed internally. He didn't even bother to hide the look of disgust on his face, though he had no choice but to play along.

"Hello, Madam," Rivert said stiffly, his eyes still glaring at Jin-wook.

Jin-wook caught the look and tilted his head slightly. As I thought... he doesn't even bother to hide his expression. It's fun to watch him struggle.

"Oh, we didn't know you had such handsome relatives, Chairman!" the woman exclaimed. She turned her curiosity back to Rivert. "Is he married?"

She scanned the young man with dazzling, sharp eyes from head to toe. The look in her eyes seemed calculated—a profit filter instead of predatory. As the conversation began to spiral into useless gossip, Rivert felt a heavy weight in his chest. He wanted to bolt out of this stupid discussion immediately.

A light laugh escaped Jin-wook's lips. "Does Miss Park want to introduce her daughter to him?"

"You know I only have a son, Sir," she replied, her eyes lingering on Rivert's sharp features. "Actually, he has the aura of a high-class model. I'm just wondering if he'd like to try modeling."

It was a request to be expected from Madam Park So-kyung. As the director of a world-renowned modeling agency, she was famous for discovering international and national stars. If a face caught her eye, they were destined for the spotlight.

(I don't have any plan to become a model or anything.)

Without uttering a single word, he quickly side-eyed the ballroom audience dealing in their causes, calculating and plotting how to seduce their generational paycheck banks while clinging to their superiors.

"People do play dirty to get on the top... huh," Rivert muffled these words.