Billy hadn't expected Jackson to reject him so bluntly, his face flashing with embarrassment. "If you're upset, I can stop going out with friends at night."
Jackson massaged his temples. "I'm not upset."
In truth, he didn't feel it was his place to control Billy's actions. Besides, at this moment, he genuinely didn't need any pheromone comfort. Perhaps it was the effect of Enola's pheromones combined with the timely inhibitor; this susceptibility period had been unexpectedly manageable.
"Jackson—" Billy, seemingly emboldened by alcohol and still shaken from his earlier confrontation with Enola, continued, "You don't have to treat me this way… If you don't like it, just say so. There's no need to treat me like this."
Tears welled up in Billy's eyes, looking as if he'd suffered a great grievance.
Jackson, however, wasn't particularly skilled at comforting others, nor did he have any inclination to do so now. His previously pleasant mood was completely disrupted. Frowning, he replied, "I don't dislike you, nor am I upset. Even after our engagement, you are a free and independent person, fully capable of choosing who you spend time with."
"I am in my susceptibility period, but I've already taken an inhibitor, so there's no need for a temporary mark. This isn't about anger."
With that, he stood up, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. "Does that make sense to you?"
Billy's eyes reddened, and he stammered, "I… I understand…"
Jackson gave him a brief nod before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Billy stared after him, a sense of panic settling deep within. A strange premonition crept up on him, an unsettling feeling that perhaps, after Jackson walked out this time, he would never again look back.
Stumbling to the door, Billy opened it shakily, but Jackson was already gone. Covering his face, Billy began to cry, and, unable to hold back, dialed Jay's number. "…Jay… I… I don't know what to do…"
"What? He's angry with you over a simple gathering with friends? That's just disrespectful," Jay grumbled.
Startled awake by the call, Jay threw on a coat and prepared to head out. Just as he was about to leave, the bedroom door opened, and Enola appeared, wrapped in a robe, looking sleepy. "Going somewhere?" he asked softly.
Jay paused. "There's an emergency at work. I need to go in."
Enola rubbed his eyes, the warmth in his gaze making his peach-blossom eyes even more captivating, especially with the slight drowsiness. "Does it have to be now? It's pouring outside, and you've been drinking…"
He blinked, his voice carrying a sleepy, nasal tone that was endearing. "Shall I drive you?"
With Enola's delicate rose scent lingering in the air, Jay, instinctively drawn to his own omega, averted his gaze. "No need, I'll just grab a ride."
"Alright," Enola said, moving closer to give him a gentle hug, smiling warmly. "Come back soon."
Jay nodded. "Will do."
As he watched Jay walk out, a satisfied smile played at Enola's lips.
In his mind, 555, his system, piped up softly, "Host, your husband must be blind. How can he not see how beautiful you are? Why go after that dim—"
"Enough," Enola replied calmly, heading to the study to grab Jay's laptop. "Let's let Billy keep him company."
He opened the laptop and plugged in a USB, backing up all his dance videos. "We have work to do now."
He intended to make Billy return everything that didn't belong to him.
In the original story, Billy had taken Enola's videos and uploaded them online. When fans first asked if it was Billy in the videos, he hadn't denied it. Soon, everyone believed that the dancer in the videos was Billy.
At the time, Enola's relationship with Jay had already started to crumble, and when Jay and Billy's relationship was fully exposed, the original Enola had fallen into an emotional spiral, unable to address Billy's theft of his work.
To Enola, Billy's rise to fame, built on someone else's hard work while feigning innocence, was nothing short of feeding off another's pain. And somehow, the foolish characters in the story bought it.
Pulling up the main social media network, Enola searched for "Bai Bai," Billy's screen name. As expected, his profile was the first result. Clicking on Billy's page, Enola reviewed the videos. He noted that Billy had a certain aesthetic, often posting videos in loose traditional clothing, filmed with backlighting for a moody effect. However, in the latest video, it was clearly Enola's choreography in a traditional outfit, and it was nearly impossible to distinguish him from Billy unless one knew him intimately or reviewed each frame carefully.
The contrast between the cool and refined appearance and the subtle, almost seductive movements had made the video explode in popularity, gathering millions of views.
This video, which propelled Billy to fame, was the same one he tried to recreate on variety shows, turning him into a rising star on the trending lists.
Enola's lips curled into a wry smile as he registered a new account named "Jiang Jiang." He uploaded a short video of himself performing a simple backbend from the original choreography.
"Host," 555 said indignantly, "he's awful! Stealing your videos to post as his own is just unforgivable. Let's expose him right now!"
Enola gently shook his head, closing the laptop and placing the USB on Jay's bedside table. He glanced at the ring on the table, then carefully slipped it onto his finger.
"Not yet."
"When Billy has truly made a name for himself and gained a large following, that's when we'll reveal the truth. The impact will be much greater then, won't it?"
555 thought about it and realized that if Billy became widely popular, exposing him as a video thief would cause widespread outrage and even anger his fans.
555's eyes sparkled. "Host, you're a genius!"
Enola chuckled. "Good."
555 giggled, "What's next? Should we go find your target? He's out tonight…"
Enola shook his head. "We've made enough progress for one evening. Let's wait until tomorrow to 'run into him.'"
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I remember Jackson has a niece taking dance classes?"
555 considered, "Yes! She's studying at a studio run by one of your colleagues."
Enola raised an eyebrow. "Perfect."
The next morning, after a natural wake-up and getting ready, Enola drove to work. In this world, his role was that of a university dance professor with a light teaching load—only about four or five classes a week. This left him plenty of time for personal interests and, as the original Enola had done, for researching how to be a proper omega spouse.
After parking, Enola encountered a fellow instructor, the omega teacher 555 had mentioned who also ran the dance studio where Jackson's niece studied.
Carrying a book, he walked over. "Good afternoon, Ms. Yang."
Ms. Yang, a middle-aged omega who taught classical dance, was surprised to see him. "Weren't you on leave?"
"You need to take care of yourself," she advised. "If you don't properly handle your heat cycles, you could harm your glands."
Enola offered a gentle smile. "My husband has been very busy lately and hasn't been home much. But don't worry, I didn't need an inhibitor and managed my cycle normally."
Managing a heat cycle without an inhibitor could imply several things, but Ms. Yang didn't pry further, nodding. "Take care of yourself; you'll regret it if you don't."
Enola chatted briefly with Ms. Yang before hesitantly saying, "Actually, Ms. Yang…"
"Hm? Speak up."
He coughed softly, looking a bit bashful. "I was wondering, do you run a children's dance class?"
Ms. Yang nodded. "Why? Interested in teaching?"
Enola's lips curved into a shy smile, a hint of pink on his ears. "I enjoy working with children. Now that I'm settled, and since my husband and I recently married, we're thinking of starting a family."
Ms. Yang couldn't help but smile at the idea of the gentle young couple preparing to start a family. "You're more than welcome, Mr. Jiang. Your skills far surpass mine. I'd be thrilled to have you join the children's classes."
She glanced at the schedule thoughtfully. "In fact, we have a class this afternoon—a beginner group with just five kids. They're a sweet bunch. Why don't you join us after your last class?"
Enola's eyes curved in delight. "Thank you, Ms. Yang."
Ms. Yang chuckled. "No need to thank me. I'm thrilled to have a free assistant!"
…
After his class, Enola drove to the JL Tower dance studio, a picturesque space with large glass windows overlooking a grassy field.
As Jackson's car pulled up outside the studio, he was met with an unexpected, heartwarming sight:
Inside, a cool, refined omega with long hair tied back was kneeling gracefully beside a young girl with a little bun atop her head, offering gentle guidance. The soft expression on Enola's face, framed by a few loose strands of hair, lent him an air of calm tenderness.
The little girl seemed to adore him, rising on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. Startled, Enola blinked, then gave her a shy, endearing smile.
Bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the scene was nothing short of heartwarming.