Chapter 3

Contrary to Gyuyeon’s expectations, the so-called rich brat had a surprisingly presentable face.

His clothes were tacky beyond saving, but his face… was stunningly pretty.

Gently arched brows, puppy-like drooping eyes with long lashes, a rounded nose with just the right lift, cheeks flushed like ripe peaches, and lips tinted with a healthy pink.

Plain features, but put together, they created a strangely harmonious beauty.

With his eyes closed, the boy looked both cute and tragically beautiful.

But this wasn’t the time to admire his face.

Gyuyeon, who had shaken the small body awake with irritation, stood with one leg cocked.

The boy sat up with hair a mess, glanced around groggily—and startled violently.

‘This isn’t the master I know…!’

The “rich kid” on Gyuyeon’s bed was none other than Naru.

He had escaped the obsessive top, only to be sucked back into this world—and kidnapped.

The errands agency had clearly delivered the wrong person, but neither Gyuyeon nor Naru knew that yet.

And while Gyuyeon bristled with temper, Naru had his own reason for not protesting.

The men who dragged him into a car hadn’t taken him straight to Gyuyeon’s house.

They had hauled him somewhere unfamiliar, dumped cold water over him, muttered in low voices he barely understood.

His head had been fuzzy, but one exchange lingered:

’Hey, how the hell are we supposed to bring that rich kid? Lucky we found someone with a similar name and kinda similar looks. Wash him. Scrub him clean so he looks the part.’

‘Sigh, is this even okay?’

‘Shut it and wash him. Didn’t you see the state he was in? Filthy, like a stray mutt. If you want the money, do it. The client’s temper’s no joke. We screw this up, it’s us who get beaten.’

Their voices had been vile, like traffickers selling people.

Dragged off, scrubbed down, and left in a strange house—everything about it felt like being traded.

‘So… I was really sold to this person?’

Blink blink—Naru’s wide eyes rose to meet Gyuyeon’s.

This man wore expensive clothes, lived in a luxurious house, and was even handsome.

Naru quickly decided:

‘Right. I was sold. I was bought.’

Trained since childhood to never speak out of turn, he didn’t ask where he was or who the man was. He already “knew” the answers.

Gyuyeon, meanwhile, felt his temper flare at the resigned look on the boy’s face. He raked his hand through his hair, irritation dripping from every movement.

“Hey. Do you even know who I am? You get dragged in here and have the nerve to sprawl on my bed?”

“…”

“You’ve got guts, bastard.”

His first words were insults, sharp and deliberate—meant to sting. Loud enough to be heard clearly at this short distance.

But Naru didn’t flinch.

He simply listened. Not crying, not begging, not even trembling. Just silent, like a small animal gone still.

The lack of reaction frustrated Gyuyeon.

‘What the hell is with this brat? Definitely not normal… fuck.’

He exhaled sharply, scowling. He’d never met anyone like this. His mind spun, calculating how best to crush him.

“Hey. Do you even know what happens if you act like this? I’ll—”

“Tie my whole body up and lock me in the basement.”

“…What?”

“Starve me for two days. And when you tell me to give my body, I’ll give it quietly.”

“…”

The words were absurd. Gyuyeon stared at him in disbelief.

The eyes looking back were round, pure, guileless—and yet the words spilling out were filth.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? Fuck.”

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then why say that crap? When did I say I’d tie you up in a basement?”

“I… won’t be punished?”

“Punishment? Of course. You deserve punishment.”

Neither realized they were talking about entirely different things.

For Naru, “punishment” meant torture and abuse.

So when Gyuyeon mentioned it, he quietly began pulling at his clothes, readying himself.

Gyuyeon’s eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Because I deserve punishment…”

“You think stripping is punishment? You’ve lost it.”

He snorted, suddenly grasping Naru’s intent. Dragged here because of some rumor, and now this brat thought he’d be beaten or used sexually?

If it had been Geonhyuk, that pervert would’ve gone along without hesitation.

But Gyuyeon wasn’t wired that way.

Still, Naru hesitated, then moved again—his hands clumsy but purposeful, his expression strangely innocent as he tried to undress.

“Put your clothes on,” Gyuyeon snapped. “Who the hell would want to do that with you? Don’t strip, and don’t let anyone strip you.”

“Then… I’ll wait until you calm down.”

Surprised, Gyuyeon watched him slowly tug his clothes back into place.

The obedient look set his teeth on edge.

‘What the fuck. Why does this make me feel so irritated?’

He muttered curses, fist tightening. But Naru only sat politely, hands folded, waiting.

“Wait until I calm down? Bullshit. You’re just sitting there, looking for a chance to run. Cheap tricks.”

Feigning a smile, Gyuyeon grabbed Naru’s chin, tilting it firmly.

“You think you’re clever, but you’re not leaving this place.”

“…”

“If you’re crazy, I’m crazier. So brace yourself.”

“Br-brace…!”

The word hit Naru like a whip. His body froze, despair washing over his face.

Back in Beomhyeon’s basement, “brace” had always preceded a beating.

It meant blows until his knees scraped raw against the floor, humiliation layered on top of pain.

Now this man said the same word.

Tears welled instantly.

‘Not again. How hard will he hit? How many times? Will I survive this?’

Naru squeezed his eyes shut, trembling, waiting for pain. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. Nothing came.

Gyuyeon, unnerved, let a slow smile curl his lips. He mistook Naru’s tears as a sign he was finally afraid.

‘Hah. Finally got to him.’

But Naru’s thoughts ran wild.

‘Why isn’t he hitting me? Is he waiting to strike suddenly? What a bastard…’

His whole body was tense, waiting. Gyuyeon loomed, large hands capable of hurting badly.

“Now you get the seriousness, huh? Let’s see how well you endure.”

“Y-yes…”

Naru’s voice shook. Inside, he pleaded desperately: ‘Please, just get it over with. Hit me already…’

But again—nothing.

Clack, thud!

A sound jolted him, but there was no pain. Opening his eyes, he realized Gyuyeon was gone. The door had closed.

“Huh…?”

Did he leave? To fetch something to hit me with?

Clutching the bedspread, Naru listened hard. Nothing.

‘Weird. That guy’s weird. Why isn’t he hitting me…?’

Confusion slowly overtook fear. His trembling body stilled.

Tail invisible, but twitching in his mind, he burrowed into the blanket.

Meanwhile, Gyuyeon was in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face.

He’d only wanted to intimidate some spoiled brat, but instead he’d run into a complete lunatic.

Geonhyuk’s words rang in his head: ‘The kids who look innocent are the most dangerous.’

Naru looked harmless, but in reality, he was a mess of contradictions.

Undressing to “take punishment.” Sitting quietly as if resigned. No plea for help, no begging. Too strange.

Scrubbing his face under the faucet, Gyuyeon muttered curses.

After showering, he went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of cold water. Normally he drank organic juice, part of his health routine, but tonight he was exhausted and starving.

He grabbed pasta and sauce, started cooking.

Boiling noodles, pouring sauce—his eyes kept drifting to the shut bedroom door.

Why was the brat so quiet?

Finally, with pasta ready, he set two plates on the table. Something restless churned in him.

Clatter!

The bedroom door opened. Naru lay face down on the bed, then cautiously looked up.

Gyuyeon snorted.

“Lucky bastard, aren’t you.”

“S-s-sorry…”

“Get out.”

“Eh?”

“I said come out. Take off that filthy collar and get out here.”

‘Why the hell is he wearing that thing? Does he think he’s a dog?’

He turned back to the kitchen, leaving the door open.

From inside, Naru whispered softly:

“I am a dog, though…”

Thankfully, Gyuyeon didn’t hear.

Naru poked his head out, sniffed instinctively.

A sweet, tangy tomato scent drifted through the air.

Eyes wide, he followed it like a spell to the table.

‘Ah… this must be another punishment. He’s teasing me, putting food right where I can’t reach it.’

He circled the table, pouting miserably. His stomach ached with hunger, and tears threatened.

“Stop pacing. Sit down.”

“Ah… sit?”

“Do you not understand Korean? Don’t make me say it twice. Sit.”

‘Proper torture,’ Naru thought grimly. Still, he obeyed, sitting before the steaming plate.

A fork was placed in front of him.

“Huh?”

He blinked. Two plates. Two forks. Two cups. Just him and Gyuyeon in the room.

“Don’t just stare. Eat.”

“Eat…?”

“Ha. I made it for you. Want me to throw it away instead?”

“N-no! I’ll eat!”

Clutching the fork as if to guard it, Naru twirled pasta into his mouth. The deep tomato flavor burst across his tongue.

One bite. Two. Still, no curses. No blows.

‘He really meant for me to eat…’

Relief swept him. Head bowed, lip trembling, he ate quickly.

Gyuyeon assumed he was crying from fear. But in truth, Naru’s eyes sparkled like starlight. A small smile crept to his lips.

‘An angel… this person is an angel.’

If Gyuyeon heard that, he’d probably clutch his head and collapse.