Dirty Switch

The door swung open before Baekhan even had a chance to tell him to wait.

“Secretary Nam.”
“I’m truly sorry. I know this is a disruption, but please—this, I need you to check it right away.”
It wasn’t offensive. Secretary Nam rarely acted this improperly, which was why both Seo Baekhan and Joo Taehyun instinctively tensed.

“This is a draft of the press release for major media outlets. I think you need to review it immediately… I’ll wait outside, so just call me if you need anything.”
Nam put unusual emphasis on that final line, as if fully expecting Baekhan to summon him again. And judging by the way he kept glancing at Taehyun—again and again, so blatantly that it was impossible not to notice—this clearly had something to do with the DH Group.
Was he trying to drop a hint? After locking eyes with Baekhan, Secretary Nam quickly bolted out of the office like his tail was on fire.

“Hyung, is this… about me?”
Taehyun, sensing the strange mood, leaned forward toward Baekhan.
“My brothers and sister didn’t give me any heads-up…”

“Not sure. He said it’s a draft of a press release, so I’ll need to see—”
Baekhan’s expression hardened the moment he opened the file.
“Hyung?”

Confidential. Top secret. Under embargo.
The words were bold, large, and underlined. Below them, headlines even more provocative filled the page.
[BREAKING] Youngest DH heir Joo Taehyun exposed for using ‘Dirty Switch’ and other drugs

[EXCLUSIVE] Joo Taehyun of DH Group suspected of infidelity
“…Ha.”
They’re at it again.

The articles themselves were even more explicit than the headlines. They claimed Joo Taehyun had used Dirty Switch and other drugs while studying abroad, that he’d been sexually promiscuous with multiple people, and that there was definitive evidence of infidelity even after his marriage.
Maybe because recent public opinion had started leaning in his favor, they’d decided to tear Taehyun down instead. If they were aiming to provoke, they were going to regret it this time.
“This is similar to what Kim Seungjun’s camp leaked before. A bit more sensationalized though—”
Baekhan flipped through the printed pages with a click of his tongue—until his hand suddenly froze.

No wonder.
Unlike before, this time the reports were backed by several photos that seemed to verify the sensationalist claims.
Screenshots of app orders for Dirty Switch, suspicious medicine packets stacked in the house, Taehyun rinsing drugs off with a hose in the backyard late at night, unknown men entering Taehyun’s house while glancing around nervously.

Among the lower-quality surveillance shots were clearer images with Taehyun’s face in full view.
There was one of him bickering with Cheon Seungpil in front of a luxury store during his last trip to Washington, their hands tightly clasped. Another showed Seungpil stuffing a pile of pregnancy tests into his jacket pocket at a pharmacy just days ago.
The material had everything—scandalous details carefully laid out, perfect for public outrage. It was clear Taehyun had been followed for quite some time. The sequence was too neat to be random.

“…Joo Taehyun.”
Baekhan dropped the file onto the table with a sharp smack. Even that slight action made Taehyun’s eyes widen slightly. It hit Baekhan then—he’d been far too lenient with him. Maybe because he’d known him since he was a kid. Looking back, he’d gone easy on him.
“Explain.”

Whether he’d been waiting for permission or not, Taehyun finally took the file in his hands.
“I want to know everything I need to know. Everything you’ve been hiding from me. No skipping. All of it.”
Taehyun’s fingers slowed as he flipped through the pages. His pupils began to tremble slightly. His normally soft eyes narrowed like a slit of ink being drawn in.

Baekhan observed that subtle change with a fury he hadn’t expected from himself.
It wasn’t pleasant, of course. But in terms of content, the report matched what Baekhan had suspected all along. The fact that it came from so-called “reputable” outlets was the only real surprise.
But the unfamiliar side of Joo Taehyun—the part Baekhan had completely missed—that was what boiled his blood.

All the more reason not to let emotions rule. Even Taehyun was trying hard to stay composed.
So, stay calm. Just—
“…This is still salvageable. As long as you can clarify the last photo.”

“…”
“The drug use? You just need to say you’re getting tested and hold your head high. That rumor will die fast.”
Taehyun silently mouthed, Hyung. His lips opened and closed again, slower than expected.

“So what if a chaebol heir went luxury shopping? As long as you didn’t embezzle from the foundation, no one gives a shit if you used company money to travel or shop. But Taehyun—”
Baekhan fixed his gaze forward and raised only his eyes to meet Taehyun’s. Even now, just having that gloomy face turned toward him stirred a faint satisfaction.
Fucking hell, this one-sided imprinting.

“Infidelity is a no.”
That word—infidelity—seemed to punch the air out of Taehyun’s lungs. He inhaled sharply, startled. Was he afraid? Maybe worried Baekhan would use it to push for divorce?
Taehyun’s pheromones leaked unsteadily, pulsing with the thump of his heartbeat. The scent of a cold forest, of damp wood, drifted aimlessly through the room. The soft, flowery smell he’d recently carried was gone.

“Whatever we’ve agreed to privately, the world calls sleeping with someone else when you’re married cheating, infidelity, adultery. Once that label sticks, no money or law can erase it.”
Baekhan clenched down hard—fighting the urge to press him even harder.
He was going to use this as leverage to tighten his control over Taehyun. Not even DH Group would be able to protest. And that pathetic mess Cheon Seungpil, who couldn’t even transfer schools properly and chased him all the way to Pyongyang, and the Yunra Foundation too—they were getting wiped out for good.

But seriously, fuck. If he was going to get tangled up with someone, it had to be the Yunra Foundation’s grandson? Enough to possibly get pregnant? If that «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» was the case, he should’ve cleaned it up properly. If he couldn’t handle it, he should’ve asked for help.
Baekhan had trusted him—trusted him because he always seemed so competent. And now this? It was disappointing. A lot disappointing.
“Joo Taehyun, you want to keep this marriage going.”

At that, Taehyun’s fingers gave a small twitch against his teacup. It was the biggest reaction he’d shown so far.
Baekhan took a sip of tea, now slightly altered in flavor from melted ice. As he savored the scent of Taehyun’s uncontrolled pheromones, some of his anger cooled.
“You liked being my spouse. Didn’t you?”

You like me. Back then, and now.
“Let’s not make this more complicated.”
He had the perfect excuse now to see him regularly and sleep with him, even. You don’t want to blow everything up, right?

As he studied Taehyun’s blank stare into his own cup, Baekhan realized just how much he cared for him. It wasn’t the same kind of emotion Taehyun had for him, not even close—but still, four years of living together under the title of “spouse” had quietly created a bond.
“…Hyung.”
Finally, Taehyun spoke again—his mind made up. The flicker of distress from earlier was gone. What remained was the composed face he wore in formal settings.

Baekhan had always liked that look best. He’d showered praise whenever Taehyun wore that cool, unreadable mask. The cold edge Taehyun developed around others was largely because it suited Baekhan’s taste.
“…Alright. Go on.”
But something felt off.

Despite the calming pheromones and Taehyun’s docile posture, Baekhan’s mood nosedived again. A vague sense of dread crawled up his spine. He hated phrases like “indescribable feeling,” but he had no better words for it.
Why’s he hesitating so much? What he’s supposed to say is obvious: I’m sorry. I messed up. I’ll leave everything to you. I’ll listen from now on.
That would’ve been enough.

“…I want to stop.”
“Hm?”
“I… want to stop all this.”

“…What?”
“…Let’s get divorced.”