Do-hyun's composure, usually as steady as granite, faltered. Jaemin's father's words—almost a perfect echo of the headlines from the smear campaign articles—hit a sensitive nerve that Do-hyun had been secretly afraid of ever since he'd shouted at Jaemin in that office, so many weeks ago, and then learned to regret it: the fear that his volatility would become another source of pain for Jaemin. His scent of cedar spiked immediately, a defensive instinct against the attack.
"I am nothing like Choi Seungcheol," Do-hyun stated bluntly, his voice low. "And I will never use my alpha status to control or coerce Jaemin. Our relationship is built on trust."
Seo Taejun's eyes, the dark grey of a stormy sea, narrowed further. "Trust is built on reliability, Kang Do-hyun-ssi. You just took a crisis call about the consequences of your actions, alone. This secrecy is the same darkness that chased Jaemin from Vienna. You are showing him that shame, not safety, defines your relationship."
Do-hyun took a deep breath as he fought the rising tide of his own stress, forcing himself to focus entirely on setting a boundary to protect his mate.
"You misunderstand, Abeoji. I stepped out to protect his peace, not to conceal the truth from him," Do-hyun said, his voice dropping to a firm, protective conviction. "He is my conductor. His focus needs to be on the music, not on the spiteful attacks of a jealous rival. That is my responsibility as Concertmaster, and even more so as Jaemin's mate, to handle the noise so he can hear the music."
Before he could think better of it, Do-hyun stepped closer, his voice dropping in temperature. "You keep linking his failure to Vienna, Abeoji, but Vienna was the symptom, not the cause. He didn't run because he wanted to hide from a bad review. He ran because Choi Seungcheol's betrayal validated the deep shame that was planted in him years ago, shame that was put on him when others treated his omega status as a curse… Abeoji."
Seo Taejun flinched, a slight tremor in his jaw the only visible sign of the blow landing.
"He is the bravest person I know, Abeoji." Do-hyun repeated the affirmation he had given to Jaemin, while choosing to use the formal honorific again, not as respect, but as a challenge. "He came back from Vienna after being hurt and betrayed by someone he trusted. He stood on the podium. He found his voice again despite everyone telling him to be quiet and keep his head down. And I, as his mate, will protect that voice. I will deal with this crisis—alone, if necessary, to keep him focused on his art—but I will never abandon him, and I will never let anyone shame him again."
Do-hyun held the older man's gaze for a long moment, allowing the weight of his promise to settle in the strained air. The elder Seo simply studied him, his expression unchanged, revealing nothing of whether the defense had succeeded or failed.
Finally, Seo Taejun gave a single, curt nod. "We shall see, Kang Do-hyun-ssi." He turned and walked back into the warmth of the restaurant, leaving Do-hyun alone on the cold street with the full, dizzying weight of the professional crisis settling on his shoulders.
Do-hyun clenched his hands until his knuckles were white. He had stood his ground, asserting his claim and defending Jaemin's history, but the pressure was immense. His entire body felt rigidly wired, humming with the defensive adrenaline of the confrontation. He didn't just feel like an alpha fighting for his mate; he felt like a general launching a war.
He pulled out his phone, the adrenaline of the confrontation fueling his drive to control the chaos and shield Jaemin from its worst effects. He would run the counter-campaign, manage the media, and take every blow for Jaemin's sake. He knew the news would break soon, but he could control the narrative, and he could certainly control his own outward appearance.
He quickly sent the message to Manager Park, outlining the strategy:
"Deflect, deny, and threaten libel. No comment on Concertmaster's past professional conduct. Focus on Conductor Seo's brilliant revival."
With a brutal effort of will, he scrubbed the scent of adrenaline and anger from his skin, replacing it with a forced, neutral warmth. He forced a relaxed curve onto his mouth. He knew he couldn't let Jaemin see the stress of the defense, or the reality of how dirty this fight would become. Not now. Not while Jaemin was finally smiling again.
He took a final, deep breath of the polluted city air and pushed the door open, forcing a mask of calm onto his face.
A mask which lasted less than two seconds.
The moment he stepped past the threshold, a woman's shriek tore through the cozy warmth of the restaurant.
"You mate-stealing whore!"
The shout raised his defensive instincts, and Do-hyun instantly took in the scene: a middle-aged customer at the adjacent table, her face contorted in a furious snarl, rising with a cup in her hand. Instinctively, he moved, but he was too late.
The contents of the cup—a cascade of iced fruit soda—hit Jaemin squarely in the face. It washed down his hair, soaking the front of his shirt and blurring the shock in his amber eyes.
Jina and Junho leapt to their feet, aghast. Their mother let out a small scream, covering her mouth with trembling hands, utterly paralyzed.
"I knew it was you!" The woman pointed a shaking finger at Jaemin. "You and your heat! My alpha could smell your disgusting pheromones at the Gala, even with our bond! You think you're so special, you spoilt, clawing little wretch, but you're just a cheap piece of filth!"
"Stop it!" Jina cried out, grabbing the woman's wrist. "You apologize to my brother, right now!"
"Get away from him!" Junho shouted.
The woman laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Look at the little betas trying to defend their slut brother! You can smell the filth on him! Go find your own mate, instead of stealing from others!"
Do-hyun's alpha rage exploded, violent and immediate, the cedar scent spiking so fiercely it drove patrons back from the table. He was a second from snapping, a second from proving Jaemin's father absolutely correct, but the sight of Jaemin, humiliated, dripping, and frozen in shame, slammed the brakes on his fury.
He watched as Jaemin tried to wipe the ice that had caught inside his collar, but the shaking hands, the wide stare of the amber eyes, blankly fixed on the floor, told Do-hyun that he didn't really know what he was doing. Jaemin's mind was somewhere else, reliving some other related terror.
Do-hyun's anger pitched higher, and he snarled.
"Get out." His voice was a low, terrifying growl directed at the woman. He didn't yell; the sheer, controlled venom in his tone was enough. "Get out before I call the police."
The omega woman, now facing a furious alpha who radiated pure, contained menace, retreated, stumbling backward toward the door before fleeing.
The chaos lasted only twenty seconds, but the damage was profound. The public spectacle was a cruel, perfect validation of Jaemin's father's warnings.
Do-hyun ignored the Seos, ignored the restaurant staff rushing over, focused solely on the soaked, trembling omega before him. He grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the table setting and began gently dabbing away the wetness from Jaemin's face, his hands surprisingly steady.
"It's alright, jagi," he murmured, using the intimate name now as an anchor. "I'm here. It's just water. It's fixed."
Jaemin finally spoke, his voice unsteady and barely a whisper. "I–I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Do-hyun…"
The apology was a knife in his heart. Why was this man always apologizing for things that other people did to him? His heart breaking for his mate, Do-hyun's denial came sharp and immediate. "This isn't your fault. How could it possibly be your fault?" He looked up at the restaurant staff, his face a mask of cold resolve. "We're leaving."
"You can't protect him," a gruff, quiet voice cut through the remaining noise. Jaemin's father stood rigid by the table, his face white with shock and grim vindication. "Not as long as he stays in such a public industry. They'll tear him apart, and you won't be able to stop them."
Do-hyun didn't argue. He had no defense. He had left Jaemin's side for five minutes, and his mate's dignity had come under assault.
'I will never let anyone shame him again.' He had just said those words, promised them solemnly to Jaemin's father, and had immediately failed to keep them.
He could not fail again.
Draping his cashmere sweater around Jaemin's shoulders to shield the soaked shirt, he swiftly paid the bill before turning to Jaemin's mother, who was still shaking.
"Eomeonim, I deeply apologize for this. I will take Jaemin home immediately and make sure he's safe. I promise we will make this meal happen properly, another time."
When she nodded, he addressed the twins, who had fallen silent once Do-hyun had intervened.
"Jina, Junho, get your parents into a cab, quickly. I'm taking your brother home. We'll call you later." His eyes, dark and resolute, left no room for debate.
Mutely, they nodded, and turned to their parents as Do-hyun guided Jaemin outside.
On the street, Do-hyun bundled Jaemin into the car he had parked just outside the establishment, his mind already calculating the hours he would spend awake that night, sealing off every leak, fighting every rumor, determined to disappear into the war for his mate's safety. He knew with devastating certainty that the only way to protect Jaemin was to fight this one alone.