TCBW C77

Chapter 77

“Pfft! That’s right—your boyfriend gave me this.”

Sara shoved the necklace in Suhoe’s face, her laughter sharp and grating. “What did he call it again? A wedding necklace? Well, I guess that means I’m not just some hole to him, right?”

“Ah!”

Before Suhoe could even process the words, Sara struck him hard on the forehead with the necklace still clutched in her hand.

He turned his head instinctively, so the blow landed on his right eyelid and cheek instead. A thin line split open on his skin, blood welling bright and wet, glinting under the light by the door.

But the pain barely registered.

Her words hit harder—like being struck again, shattering him to pieces like the vase earlier.

A hole?

Blood dripped from his trembling hand, pattering onto the floor, but what hurt wasn’t his hand. It was the dull, sick ache in his chest.

To her, he was worth nothing more than that.

He had always lived quietly, hiding from the world, and now he had been found—by the woman who was supposed to be Dowoon’s bride. The fear of what came next numbed him completely.

“Dowoon and I,” Sara continued, smirking, “we’re getting married. You knew that, didn’t you? That’s what this necklace means. Ah, this is so much fun. I’m loving this.”

“U…uhh…”

“Oh, look at you—are you crying? Over a man?”

No matter how filthy or cruel Sara’s words became, the emotions that had burst from Suhoe earlier when he confessed to Dowoon still clung to him like a fever.

He didn’t know how to defend himself, didn’t know what to say—so he only cried silently.

“You really love him that much?”

Sara crouched in front of him, finally calm, almost pleased.

Seeing that she wasn’t the only one who wanted Dowoon gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction—an ugly comfort born from superiority.

And superiority, at times, could create its own kind of order.

“Then fine,” she said sweetly. “Keep seeing him.”

“…What?”

Suhoe lifted his tear-streaked face, confusion in his wide eyes.

Sara smiled—a pretty, poisonous smile.

“I said keep seeing him. It’s fun this way. Or can’t you understand plain language?”

She picked up one of the larger shards of glass from the shattered vase and held it up to his face, the edge glinting inches from his skin.

“I’m going to marry Lee Dowoon. But, you know, it’s normal for Alphas to keep Omega mistresses, right? So go on—be one. Be the Omega mistress.”

Her words were cruel beyond measure.

How could there exist a suggestion so vicious?

It was mockery disguised as permission—a deceitful indulgence for a desire that could never be fulfilled.

If he wanted to be by the side of a man who would never be wholly his, then she was telling him to do it as a secret, as a substitute for love.

Even that—somehow, in the deepest, most pitiful part of him—felt like a strange form of comfort.

Because it sounded almost like permission to stay beside Dowoon.

Even if it was hell.

He knew full well what it meant—to walk into the flames willingly, to damn himself by choice.

He had always been less than Sara. Always.

And yet…

Even as he shut his eyes in humiliation, some part of him thought that maybe—just maybe—it would be enough to stay near Dowoon, no matter how.

He didn’t know if that thought came from madness or hope. But sincerity often came when the mind was no longer sane.

Sara could see it—the trembling lips, the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. She could see just how desperately this Omega clung to Dowoon.

So she kept mocking him, her voice cold and clinical, as she watched his tear-streaked, broken face and the slight shake of his frail shoulders.

“What’s there to think about? You’ve already been his mistress. You knew I existed and still met with him, didn’t you?

You came and went from his company often enough—it’s not like you didn’t know.”

“……”

“So what’s stopping you now? Why can’t you answer me?

Ah, or maybe you’re going to tell me that with that fragile little body, you were just cleaning his house? What, an Omega janitor who fell in love with the CEO? Don’t tell me that’s your tragic romance—hahah, that’s pathetic.”

If only that had been the truth—if he had met Dowoon by chance, while cleaning, and simply fallen in love like some cheap drama.

Then maybe, instead of trying to block Sara from entering this house, he could have just walked out and left quietly.

“This isn’t a drama, you idiot. You writing some kind of romance novel? Look at you—groveling on the floor. You don’t even look like you belong in a bar, let alone beside him.

Ah, or maybe Dowoon just likes that pitiful act of yours?”

Sara’s sharp words cut through the air, her voice dripping with venom. Suhoe flinched at every sound, his shoulders trembling.

With a sneer, she dropped the glass shard and stood, grabbing a handful of his hair once more.

“You’re both disgusting. You—pathetic, cheap thing, thinking you deserve to answer back—and him, sneaking around with trash like you behind my back!”

Still unsatisfied, she slammed his head against the floor.

His frail body hit the ground with a dull sound, and he let out only a weak gasp—no scream, no resistance.

“Why aren’t you saying anything now? Come on—say something!

Or do what you Omegas do best—cry and pour your feelings out, huh? I’ll even listen, go ahead!”

“Hff… hff…”

It wasn’t that Suhoe refused to answer.

He couldn’t. His voice was gone, his breath ragged, his body drained of strength. The blood loss and exhaustion made him dizzy, and his vision blurred into gray.

“What, you ignoring me now?”

Sara’s voice barely reached him. The words blurred together in his ears. Even the metallic scent of blood on his clothes didn’t reach his nose anymore.

“…Ah… ugh…”

“Hey.”

His trembling body slackened, his head falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“You putting on a show now? Pathetic. This is hilarious.”

Sara let out a cruel laugh, mocking him as she watched his limp form. Even with the blood pooling beneath him, she didn’t believe he’d actually fainted—she thought he was pretending, trying to escape her wrath.

“Get up!”

Her heel came down hard, over and over, crushing his fragile body beneath her steps.

As if she meant to grind him into the ground—break him completely.

“Ah!”

But then, in an instant, Sara was thrown backward—falling hard onto the floor, shards of glass scattering around her.

She blinked, disoriented, and then looked up—straight into the face of Dowoon.

“If you’re not insane, then what kind of monster wears a human face and does something like this?”

“W-what are you doing?! Lee Dowoon!”

Sara screamed, her voice cracking. She tried to get up, but her legs and arms were full of glass cuts.

Dowoon stood over her, his expression cold, his voice low and rough from the lingering effects of the drug.

He didn’t even look at her.

Even after all this time, seeing her again only filled him with disgust—and guilt.

He should have woken sooner. He should have stopped this sooner.

He had been awake for barely a minute when he found them like this—and even that was too late.

He moved immediately, kneeling beside Suhoe, who lay crumpled on the floor, breathing shallowly.

“…!”

The faint, pain-laced scent of Suhoe’s pheromones reached him.

Dowoon’s heart clenched. The cuts on his arms were filled with shards of glass, blood trickling freely. His body was trembling with exhaustion, feverish and cold at once.

Even his face bore scratches, and his knees and shoulders were stained with mud and smeared footprints.

To see his wife—his mate—injured like this, in his own home, because of Sara… it was unbearable.

“…This…”

Words failed him. The damage was too much to comprehend.

He couldn’t imagine what horrors Suhoe had endured while he lay unconscious.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look away.

Taking out his phone, Dowoon spoke in a clipped, lethal tone:

“Prepare the car. I’m coming down now. And a rat’s gotten inside.”

His voice left no room for hesitation.

He balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear as he carefully began removing the glass shards from Suhoe’s arms, piece by piece.

“I’m hurt too! You should help me first!”

Sara shrieked, but he didn’t so much as glance at her.

He gathered Suhoe into his arms, holding him gently, pressing an ear to his chest to check his breathing—to feel even the faintest warmth of life still there.

“Are you really going to live with that Omega?!” Sara’s voice rose to a manic pitch. “I’m the one reaching out to you first! Lee Dowoon! You’d really pick that cheap little thing over me?!”

Dowoon stood, Suhoe cradled carefully in his arms, his face expressionless, his eyes burning with quiet fury.

Sara kept screaming, clawing for attention—but he no longer heard her.