Baekhyun tossed and turned all night after the party, wondering about what had nearly happened between him and Chanyeol and what that might’ve meant for their relationship. But he needn’t have worried. Now that he was officially head of the Kim family, he had even less time than before. They kept him so busy that the only person he ever really got to see was Yixing, and that was only because Yixing was waiting for him in the morning with a crisply pressed suit and coffee, newspaper tucked under his arm because obviously Baekhyun was expected to keep up with current affairs. He was a current affair now, after all.

He had hated being confined to the Kim manor during his training, but he hated being forced to go to the family’s many offices even more. He was forced to wear an uncomfortable suit and tie – he felt ridiculously out of place wearing them, like a child playing dress up in his father’s clothes – and make small talk with the big shots that ran the offices on a daily basis. He was expected to be knowledgeable about business and international affairs, and so he spent what little free time he had studying from books. Mr. Shin was no longer his official tutor – thank goodness – but his days of studying were far from over.

The leaves were changing color outside his window and, as Baekhyun sat at the little table in his parlor, he wished more than anything that he could take a trip down to the stables or the greenhouses, to feel the crisp autumn air on his face and maybe sneak one of Luhan’s apples from the orchard. But instead of following through on this desire, he sighed and turned back to the portfolio spread open in front of him, where he was supposed to be familiarizing himself with the international policy of a company in Singapore that he was supposed to be partnering with in the near future.

There was a brief knock on the door and then Yixing let himself in without waiting for an answer. He had a new suit in hand, as he did every other week or so. Baekhyun thought it was horribly wasteful to keep having new suits made, but, according to Madame, he couldn’t be seen in the same suit often.

“Ah, good, you’ve nearly finished breakfast,” Yixing said briskly, coming over and hanging the pressed suit on the back of the door. “You’ll need to get to the office pretty early today. You’ve got a meeting with several of the board members for the company in Singapore. You’ve really got to nail down this deal, you know.”

Baekhyun sighed and closed the portfolio with a little snap.

His mood was not lost on Yixing, who had come to be his only friend in these last few weeks of isolation. He gave Baekhyun a sympathetic little smile and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not all bad,” he tried to say.

But Baekhyun’s mood was bleak and nothing Yixing could say to him would make him feel better. “Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, slouching low in his seat and glaring at the bright autumn sun outside his window. “You’re literally the only person in the whole world who talks to me like a human being. I’m tired of business meetings and people bowing to me. I’m tired of everyone calling me Mr. Kim. I want to go home.”

Yixing sat down beside him. “This is home now, Baekhyun, whether you like it or not.” He sighed again. “I don’t think you have any meetings this weekend. Maybe I can just look the other way and you can slip off for a few hours?”

Baekhyun couldn’t help but feel touched by his friend’s offer. “Won’t you get in a lot of trouble if you lose me?”

Yixing shrugged indifferently, but Baekhyun knew better.

“Forget about it,” he said. He didn’t want Yixing to get into trouble on his account. “I’ll manage, I guess.”

He didn’t like business. His laid-back demeanor wasn’t suited for it. He’d wanted to be an artist or a writer, something creative. His entire life, he’d planned to take over his grandmother’s store, to learn herbal medicine, to help the people in his little village.

He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about his grandmother. He hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to her in what felt like ages. He didn’t like the thought of her all alone in her store, especially as the weather got cooler and her arthritis began acting up again. He knew that the neighbors would stop by and check on her, make sure she was okay, but it wasn’t the same as Baekhyun being there. He missed her a lot.

Yixing’s watch beeped, alerting them both that they were running late and Baekhyun should already be dressed and out the door, into the waiting limousine out front that would take him to the office.

“Time to get you ready,” Yixing said with forced brightness, hopping up and going to take the new suit off the hangers. “Hurry, hurry. Madame’s on the warpath this morning and the last thing we need is to give her more ammo to use against you.”

Mostly because he didn’t want to bear the brunt of Madame’s wrath – she’d stopped picking on him quite as much since he’d officially become head of the family, but that didn’t mean he could avoid her anger altogether – Baekhyun hurried to get ready. It was a routine he had perfected in his months at the Kim estate. Yixing helped him into the pants and then lint-rolled him while Baekhyun shrugged into his dress shirt and did up the buttons with nimble fingers. Then he would simultaneously brush his teeth and tie his tie – no mean feat but one he was becoming increasingly adept at – slip his feet into his dress shoes, and be out the door, grabbing the briefcase Yixing would inevitably hold out to him.

Yifan and Zitao were waiting for him by the front door, as always. They were dressed in identical black suits, wearing sunglasses even though they were indoors, little earpieces in their ears. They were completely expressionless; they were easy enough to ignore if Baekhyun tried.

When he left through the front door, opened by a uniformed servant whose name he still didn’t know, the sleek black limousine was waiting just in front of the marble fountain. The chauffer quickly opened the door for him and he climbed in, followed by his bodyguards, and then they were off for the heart of the city.

It was about a forty minute drive from the sprawling Kim estate to the more industrial part of Seoul where the main offices were located. The limousine pulled into a private drive and Baekhyun disembarked, Zitao and Yifan following him like shadows.

The receptionist on duty, a pretty moon-faced girl who wore entirely too much red lipstick, bowed low as he came in, but he practically ignored her. When he’d first started coming to the office, he would smile and greet her back politely, but he soon learned that this was frowned upon and he would get a lecture for it. She was beneath him socially; he was only supposed to talk to her when he wanted a coffee or something. It was very much against Baekhyun’s nature to ignore somebody, but he’d gotten tired of the same lecture over and over again and so he was trying.

The morning was spent in meetings with the Singaporeans, who didn’t speak much Korean and required the use of a translator. This of course meant that much of what Baekhyun was trying to say was lost in translation, and by the time they took a break for lunch, he was ready to tear his hair out. The whole business world already confused him; having to try and explain their policies to these foreigners was asking far too much of him.

Though the office always had lunch catered in, Baekhyun was feeling overwhelmed and needed a break. “I’m going to go get lunch today,” he told his assistant, a stone-faced man who never spoke unless he had to. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Yifan stepped up to block his way. “That’s not a good idea, Mr. Kim,” he said solemnly. “You need to stay in the building. It’s much safer.”

Baekhyun gave him a flat look. Thus far he had done a fairly good job of curbing his temper, but he was sincerely reaching his breaking point and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it without exploding.

Thankfully Zitao, who was rather observant for an expressionless sort of guy, put a hand on Yifan’s arm and nodded briefly to Yifan, who gave in after a moment of indecision.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “But we’ll accompany you, Mr. Kim.”

Baekhyun sighed. He hadn’t really expected anything less. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

Even though the temperature wasn’t all that high, the sun was bright and relentless, and Baekhyun shed his suit jacket as soon as he was able, handing it almost absently to Yifan to carry for him. He walked ahead of his bodyguards, hands shoved deep in his pockets, lost in thought. The meeting with the Singaporeans had his mind a jumbled mess of mixed-up thoughts and he really hated not being able to think straight.

There was a café on the corner not far from his building and he stepped inside to order a sandwich and coffee. Zitao waited outside the door, keeping an eye on the street for any suspicious activity, while Yifan came into the café with him, standing close enough that it was unmistakable that they were together. Baekhyun hated the stares he got from having his bodyguard with him, but he’d long given up hope of ditching them.

Once he had his sandwich and coffee, he and Yifan left the café and the three of them started back towards the office. Baekhyun had wanted to remain at the café and eat his lunch in relative peace, but Yifan had informed him that, due to security reasons, it wasn’t possible, and Baekhyun was too tired and weary to argue with him.

It was as they were walking back towards the office, red and orange and brown leaves skittering across the sidewalk, that they came across the fortuneteller. They’d passed her on the way to the café, but Baekhyun hadn’t paid her any attention. There were any number of ragged people on the streets in this part of town, selling their wares and services. Mostly they targeted foreigners or tourists, so Baekhyun was surprised when the woman called out to him.

“Young master,” she called, and Baekhyun was surprised enough by the greeting that he stopped and looked at her.

She was ancient. It was impossible to tell exactly how old she was, but he would bet anything that she was at least his grandmother’s age, if not older. She was dressed in long, flowing scars of varying vibrant colors and her eyes were intense as they locked on him.

“Beware,” the woman croaked, her eyes bright. “The curse follows you even now.”

Yifan stepped between Baekhyun and the fortuneteller. “Watch your tongue, ma’am,” he said sharply.

But Baekhyun quickly pushed Yifan out of the way. He felt the haziness of the morning slip away, replaced with a pounding heart and a burning desire to know what this woman knew about the Kim family curse. “What did you say?” he demanded breathlessly.

The woman’s lips stretched thin in a toothless grin. “Young master already knows about the curse, I see.”

“This is nonsense, Mr. Kim,” Zitao said softly.

But Baekhyun ignored him. “Tell me what you know,” he breathed.

The woman leaned closer, her gnarled fingers resting impatiently on the top of her table. “Death follows your family…even now it has certain people in its clutches.”

Baekhyun thought over his family members who were still alive. Both Madame and his Great Aunt Hyomin were pretty old; he wondered if the curse would be coming for them next. “Who? Who is next?”

But the fortuneteller shook her head. “That part isn’t clear to me,” she said. “But the curse is very powerful, young master. Your time is coming.”

“Learn to hold your tongue,” Yifan said suddenly, placing himself once more between Baekhyun and the old woman. He was angrier than Baekhyun had ever seen him before.

Zitao put an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders and steered him away from the woman’s stall. “It’s time to go, Mr. Kim,” he said, softly but firmly. Baekhyun had no choice but to allow himself to be dragged back to the office.

His mind was even more mixed up after that. It was impossible to concentrate on the meeting he was having, and he could tell that his lackluster participation was pissing off his associates. The CEO wasn’t supposed to be daydreaming during meetings, but Baekhyun couldn’t help it. He’d already been pretty convinced of the family curse but now, after having the fortuneteller confirm it without prompting, he was sure of it. His family was cursed and he was definitely going to get to the bottom of it.

That proved easier said than done, however, because his time was not his own. As soon as he got home from the office, instead of heading to the library to go through every single volume there if he needed to, he was summoned to Madame’s private parlor. He grimaced; he knew nothing good could come of a meeting with Madame.

She was sitting in front of the fire, sipping tea that smelled a bit like brandy. She looked at Baekhyun with a look that spoke volumes. “I hear you had an interesting chat with a fortuneteller today,” she said.

Baekhyun silently cursed Yifan – he was fairly certain it was Yifan who ratted him out, as Yifan was more of a stickler for rules than Zitao – but he didn’t deny it. In fact, having Madame bring it up only made him more defiant. “Yeah, she did,” he said loudly, as if daring Madame to argue with him.

Madame’s look was stern as she got to her feet, her cane clicking on the wooden floor as she used it to help her. “There is no curse, Baekhyun,” she said firmly. “I don’t know what nonsense silly fortunetellers have been feeding you, but you need to get your head out of the clouds and live in reality.”

Baekhyun had never hated anyone before. Not the kid who beat him up when he was in the second grade. Not the girl who had broken his heart. Not anybody. But Madame was a different story. For the first time in his life, he felt a real hatred for someone – someone who was supposed to be his family, no less – and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “She told me death is here,” he blurted out. “Here in our house. Right now. It’s coming for somebody.” He felt a small flicker of satisfaction as he felt rather than saw Madame recoil from his words. “But if you don’t believe in the curse, then you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”

Madame was glaring at him again, but there was a fear behind it that Baekhyun had never seen in her before.

“Get out,” she snarled, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

Baekhyun was only too happy to obey.