The next morning, an unopened box of banana milk sat beside Joo Hee-won's coffee.

Miss Kwon noticed it as soon as she entered his office. Her attention moved from the bright yellow box to the black coffee beside it, then back again. "Is that your breakfast, sir?"

"No."

"Did someone leave it here?"

"No."

Miss Kwon placed a tablet on his desk and decided that years of professional experience had prepared her for many things, but not for interrogating the CEO about flavored milk. "The corridor footage and access records are ready," she said. "The medical team also sent everything connected to yesterday's incident."

Hee-won pushed the banana milk farther from the center of his desk. "Show me."

The corridor camera did not record inside the restroom, but it recorded enough.

Lee Min-ho entered alone at 9:14 a.m. His scent patch was visible at the back of his neck, properly attached and undamaged. Joo Hee-seung appeared less than a minute later. He stopped outside the restroom, checked both ends of the corridor, then followed Min-ho inside.

No one else entered.

Three minutes later, the restroom door opened hard enough to strike and damage the wall. Hee-seung came out first with blood running from his nose and one hand covering his mouth. Min-ho followed several seconds later. His shirt collar had been pulled out of place, but his scent patch was still attached.

When Hee-seung attempted to return to the restroom, Min-ho stepped back into view holding the metal soap dispenser kept beside the sink.

That appeared to have ended the discussion.

Miss Kwon paused the recording. "The soap dispenser was not damaged."

"Good."

"The restroom wall was."

"Send Facilities the repair cost."

"Should I charge it to Executive Director Joo's department?"

"Charge it to him personally."

Miss Kwon made a note.

The medical records were no kinder to Hee-seung. Min-ho's temperature and hormone levels had been normal when security brought him to the medical room. There was no evidence that his heat had begun. Hee-seung, however, had entered rut and had failed to report it despite company policy requiring him to leave the building immediately.

His prescribed suppressants had not been renewed in six weeks.

"The company doctor says he was advised to take leave twice," Miss Kwon said. "He refused because he had an investor dinner."

"Of course he did."

Hee-seung had always considered inconvenience a problem designed for other people.

The witness statements were less useful. Three employees had heard Min-ho shouting for Hee-seung to move away from him. Two had heard something strike the wall. One had written that Min-ho seemed "unusually emotional afterward," which was a creative way to describe an employee who had nearly been bitten in a restroom.

The official HR report had ignored all of them.

"Bring my brother here," Hee-won said. "Then call the HR director and the creative director. I want them waiting outside."

Miss Kwon collected the tablet. Her attention returned briefly to the banana milk. "Should I put that in the refrigerator?"

"No."

"It may spoil."

Hee-won looked at the box as though it had personally created the problem. "Put it in the refrigerator."

"Of course, sir."

—

Joo Hee-seung entered twenty minutes later wearing dark glasses and an expensive suit that did very little to hide the swelling around his mouth. He did not wait to be invited before sitting. "I assume this is about the omega."

Hee-won remained behind his desk. "His name is Lee Min-ho."

"I know his name," Hee-seung said.

"Then use it."

Hee-seung removed his glasses and set them on the desk. A bruise covered the side of his face. Min-ho had apparently defended himself with commitment. "He attacked me," Hee-seung said. "I was trying to help, and he lost control."

"The medical report says he wasn't in heat."

"He smelled like one."

"He was wearing an active scent patch."

"Those things fail."

"The restroom footage shows you checking the corridor before following him inside."

Hee-seung leaned back. "Are you taking his side because he broke my nose?"

"I'm taking his side because you tried to mark an employee who told you to stay away from him."

For the first time since entering, Hee-seung appeared to understand that this was not a family conversation.

He began talking about rut, instinct, and the pressure powerful alphas lived under. The explanation might have worked on their mother, who believed her sons could survive any scandal if everyone involved wore sufficiently expensive clothing. It did not work on Hee-won.

"Rut explains why you were supposed to leave the building," Hee-won said when his brother finished. "It doesn't explain why you followed him into a restroom."

"He embarrassed me in front of security."

"You came out bleeding."

"He hit me with a soap dispenser!"

"He considered it… According to the footage, you changed your mind before he needed to."

Hee-seung stared at him.

Hee-won continued before the conversation could become another excuse. "Your executive authority is revoked effective immediately. Your building access, company accounts, and signing permissions have already been disabled. Security will escort you out."

"You… You can't remove me without consulting the board."

"I can suspend an executive under investigation for assaulting an employee."

"Father will hear about this, hyung."

"Of course he will. You call him whenever consequences arrive."

The door opened before Hee-seung could answer. Two security officers waited outside with Miss Kwon.

Hee-seung stood, collected his glasses, and looked at Hee-won as though expecting some final proof that family still mattered more than company policy.

Hee-won gave him none. "Do not contact Mr. Lee," he said. "Do not contact anyone who witnessed the incident. If you attempt either, Legal will add it to the case."

Hee-seung left without another word.

Miss Kwon waited until the door closed. "The HR director and creative director are ready."

"Send them in."

Their explanations lasted longer than Min-ho's termination meeting.

The HR director called the report a temporary measure intended to protect the company. The creative director claimed she had relied on HR's professional judgment. Both insisted they had acted quickly because Fashion Week planning could not survive a public scandal.

Hee-won listened until they ran out of ways to describe the same decision. "You ignored the medical record, the access logs, the witness statements, and the corridor footage," he said. "Then you fired the employee who was attacked."

The HR director adjusted his tie. "We were trying to prevent damage to J Core's reputation."

"You created a false report with three signatures and a timestamp."

Neither of them had a useful answer to that.

The HR director was removed from his position and escorted to Legal. The creative director was suspended pending a complete review of every document she had approved in the case.

By noon, six people had learned that "protecting the company" was not a magic phrase that erased whatever came before it.

Hee-won returned to his office and opened Min-ho's employment records.

He expected to spend an hour reviewing them.

Three hours later, Miss Kwon found him surrounded by campaign files, staff evaluations, production schedules, and a spreadsheet titled FINAL_FINAL_USE_THIS_ONE_3.xlsx. She placed lunch on the corner of his desk. "Should I ask why you're reading a two-year-old lipstick launch report?"

"Min-ho rewrote the entire production plan."

"He wasn't assigned to that campaign."

"Yes, Miss Kwon."

The same pattern appeared everywhere. Min-ho had corrected budgets, solved supplier problems, reorganized photoshoots, rewritten presentation decks, and coordinated departments that technically outranked him. His managers had praised his reliability while rating him as "Not yet ready for leadership."

One evaluation complained that Min-ho sometimes acted beyond his authority. The attached example described a campaign he had saved after the person with authority forgot to book a model. Hee-won turned the screen toward Miss Kwon. "Who wrote this?"

She checked the name. "Deputy Manager Park."

"Is he still employed?"

"Yes, sir. I assume no one had read this evaluation until today."

That answer was reasonable, which made it irritating.

Miss Kwon opened another file. "There are eleven projects where Mr. Lee completed work far beyond his assigned role. Four of them were later presented under a manager's name, and those managers received bonuses." 

"He received nothing?"

"He received an employee gift set from J Core Beauty."

Hee-won looked up.

"It contained cleanser, moisturizer, and two sheet masks," she added.

For some reason, that made the situation worse.

—

By late afternoon, Hee-won had approved a new position within the Brand Content Division: Brand Content Strategy Team Leader. The role came with its own staff, budget authority, and direct involvement in both Beauty and Fashion campaigns. It would report to a senior executive outside Min-ho's former management chain.

The offer was ready before dinner.

Hee-won called Min-ho rather than appearing at his apartment again.

Min-ho agreed to meet at a quiet cafe across from J Core headquarters, although his tone suggested he was still considering whether blocking the CEO's number would improve his life.

—

When Hee-won arrived at Sparebucks, Min-ho was already seated near the window with an iced coffee and a folder beside him. His gaze fell on the documents in Hee-won's hand. "You said you wanted to discuss something. That looks like a merger."

"The legal team prepared forty-seven pages."

Min-ho looked at the much thinner folder.

"Miss Kwon reduced it to twelve."

"I already like Miss Kwon."

Hee-won sat across from him and placed the offer on the table.

He explained what he had found in Min-ho's records and why returning him to his former position would have repeated the same mistake. The new role would give him a team, an independent budget, official authority across both divisions, and credit for the work produced under his direction.

Min-ho read the first page without touching the rest. "This is a team leader position."

"Yes."

"I was a junior coordinator yesterday."

"You were paid as a junior coordinator. The work was different."

Min-ho remained cautious.

Hee-won continued before the offer could sound like compensation disguised as promotion. "This is not an apology gift, and it is not payment for what my brother did. Your record will be corrected whether you accept or not. I don't care whether you're an alpha, beta, or omega. I care that you were doing the work of a team leader while several people above you collected the credit. I don't intend to lose a good employee because they were too incompetent to recognize him."

Min-ho read the job description again.

When he spoke, he did not refuse. Instead, he laid out his conditions carefully. His work would be credited under his name. Responsibility would come with actual authority. His former managers would have no control over his evaluations or budget. The promotion would be documented as merit-based, not as part of the incident settlement. If Hee-won disagreed with his professional decisions, he would say so directly rather than changing them through another department.

Hee-won accepted every condition.

Min-ho looked almost disappointed that he had not needed to argue.

Finally, he closed the folder. "When do you want me to start?"

"Tomorrow."

"No, Monday," Min-ho said. "I was fired yesterday. I would like at least one weekend of unemployment."

"Today is Friday."

"Exactly. I haven't had time to enjoy it."

Hee-won considered the request. "Monday, then."

Min-ho stood with the folder beneath his arm. "I'll see you Monday, Mr. Joo." After he left, Hee-won sent Miss Kwon a single message.

He accepted.

He starts Monday.

Her reply arrived almost immediately.

Congratulations, sir. 

You lost your first negotiation.

Hee-won looked through the cafe window as Min-ho crossed the street. Monday was acceptable.

It was only three days away.