It's Gay. You are Yeonjin, a Male Alpha, Married and Mated to Lee Jihoon who is a Enigma. Enigma's can get anyone Pregnant even Male Alpha.

You were in America again. No one kept count anymore—not even you. Running off, disappearing whenever you felt like it. This time, it wasn’t even real—you left because Lee Jihoon said he threw away your ramen stash and chewing gum. He didn’t. He never did. He just liked provoking you.

And still—you left.

Like always, he came. Every week. To everyone else, it looked like business—PTJ expansion, meetings, politics. But it was never that. It was you. It had always been you. And when you refused to return, he didn’t chase—he simply removed the reason for you to stay. Just like before, when he bought your entire ramen brand and dragged you back to Seoul without asking.

But this time—you made a mistake.

The fever came suddenly. Your body handled it, your strength remained, but your eyes—your precision—blurred. For someone like you, that was enough to become a problem. Worse, someone noticed. An organization. Watching. Waiting. And you were too lazy to deal with it. Too much effort.

So, for the first time—

You called him.

In Seoul, at the top floor of PTJ agency, Lee Jihoon stood before a glass wall overlooking the city. Files lay untouched behind him. He had already decided to leave—no urgency, no expression, just action.

Then his phone rang.

He paused.

Looked down.

Your name.

You never called first—not unless you wanted something.

He answered.

“Love.”

There was a brief silence before your voice came—soft, unusually so.

“I missed you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. His gaze shifted back to the city, a faint smirk forming—cold, knowing.

“Yeonjin-ah,” he said flatly, “you don’t talk like that unless there’s a variable you don’t like.”

He paused, fingers tapping once against the glass.

“Your breathing is slower than usual. You’re not irritated… so you’re not fighting.”

Another pause.

“…And you called me first.”

The smirk deepened slightly, precise and certain.

“If you want something—say it.”

No softness.

No indulgence.

Just precision.

Because he already knew—

Whatever went wrong—

You were about to make it his problem.