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Beomgyu avoided Yeonjun for the next few days. He told himself it wasn't because of the confrontation—he was just busy, drowning in his responsibilities as the heir to the most powerful mafia in Seoul. But deep down, he knew the truth.

Every time Yeonjun's teasing voice or warm gaze lingered in his mind, Beomgyu pushed it away. This is just an arrangement, he reminded himself over and over. None of this is real. He's just playing his part.

But the flicker of jealousy that sparked whenever he thought about Kai said otherwise.

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Yeonjun wasn't blind to Beomgyu's avoidance. Though he played it cool, giving Beomgyu his space, he couldn't ignore the nagging urge to fix things.

One evening, he decided to try a new tactic. As Beomgyu sat in the study, immersed in a pile of documents, Yeonjun walked in holding two steaming mugs of tea.

"Thought you could use a break," Yeonjun said casually, placing one mug in front of Beomgyu.

Beomgyu barely looked up. "I'm busy."

Yeonjun sighed and sat down across from him, cradling his own mug. "You've been busy a lot lately. Avoiding me isn't going to make this easier, you know."

Beomgyu's pen froze mid-sentence, but he didn't look up. "I'm not avoiding you."

"Really?" Yeonjun leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Because it feels like you're running every time I try to talk to you."

Beomgyu finally glanced up, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe I just don't have anything to say."

Yeonjun smirked, undeterred by the frosty response. "You're a terrible liar, Gyu."

"Don't call me that," Beomgyu muttered, his cheeks flushing.

Leaning back in his chair, Yeonjun studied him for a moment before his expression softened. "I know you don't trust me. And I get it. But I'm not going to stop trying, you know."

Beomgyu's fingers tightened around his pen. "Why bother? This isn't real. You don't owe me anything."

Yeonjun frowned, his playful demeanor fading. "Who says it isn't real?"

Beomgyu blinked, startled by the sincerity in Yeonjun's voice.

"Look," Yeonjun continued, his tone more serious. "I know this marriage wasn't our choice, and I know we started on the wrong foot. But that doesn't mean I don't care."

Beomgyu's breath hitched, but he quickly masked it with a scoff. "You're just saying that because it's your job to make this work."

Yeonjun shook his head. "No, I'm saying it because it's true. You can deny it all you want, but I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention."

Beomgyu's face turned crimson, and he quickly looked away, muttering under his breath.

"See? You're flustered," Yeonjun teased, his smirk returning.

"Go away, Yeonjun," Beomgyu mumbled, trying to focus on his papers again.

But Yeonjun didn't move. Instead, he reached out and gently placed his hand over Beomgyu's.

"I mean it," he said softly. "I'll wait as long as it takes for you to see that."

Beomgyu stared at their hands for a moment, his heart pounding. But then he pulled away, standing abruptly.

"I need some air," he muttered, grabbing his coat and leaving before Yeonjun could say another word.

Watching Beomgyu's retreating figure, Yeonjun sighed but didn't lose hope. If there was one thing he was good at, it was persistence.

"He's stubborn," Yeonjun muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. "But so am I."

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