Morning. The mansion is quiet, but the tension between me and Taehyung still simmers under every glance.
I brush my hair lazily.
Boom. There they are.
Leo and Tiger. Taehyung's babies.Standing at the doorway, wagging their tails like little mafia guards.
I groan, swinging my bag over my shoulder. "No." They tilt their heads in unison.
"No means no. I'm going alone. You two don't even go to university."
Tiger takes a tiny step forward. Leo gives a soft whimper.
I glare. They blink innocently.
I sigh.
"Ugh! Don't try that 'we're-cute-and-loyal' mafia puppy act on me."
They follow me all the way to the door. Paw by paw. I try to be cold.Unmoved. But secretly…my heart melts.
Still, I snap, "Go back to your criminal father."
They sit obediently at the door, tails tapping.
I mutter, "…Fine,just stay away from the bus stop. Don't make it obvious I'm married into a damn mafia family."
I step out. Alone. But not before turning back once…
They're still there, watching, as if guarding my soul.
//////////
I walked out of the mansion with the sun on my cheeks, the wind tugging at the ends of my scarf.
Long floral gown swishing around my ankles, bag slung over my shoulder, and my hair tied up in a loose bow. Like some innocent schoolgirl on her way to class.
Not a mafia wife who nearly bit her husband this morning.
But of course, nothing in my life is ever that simple.
He followed.
Of course he did.
Not because he's just overprotective. Not because he's obsessed with control.
No.
Because the universe has a twisted sense of humor… and made my husband my university professor.
I heard the quiet purr of his car pulling into the lot seconds after I got out of the taxi.
He stepped out, sunglasses on, black suit cutting the sun like a blade. Cool.Confident. Unbothered. His presence alone made students turn,whisper, stare like he wasn't a man—they thought he was some legend.
Professor Kim Taehyung. Everyone knew him.Everyone wanted him.
But no one knew he was mine. Not the girls who smiled too wide. Not the boys who hated how easily he silenced a room. Not the university itself.
We kept it hidden.
By his demand. By my agreement. By the threat of what would happen if anyone found out I was his—married to the man every rival feared and every student admired.
I walked ahead, ignoring him, heels clicking softly on the campus pavement.
He matched my pace within seconds.
"You look cute." His voice low,teasing.
"You look like trouble." I didn't even look at him.
"I am trouble."
I glared sideways. He smirked like I'd just confirmed his entire personality.
I reached the lecture hall door and turned to face him. "In there,we don't know each other."
"Whatever you say, Mrs. Kim." His lips brushed my ear before I could stop him. Quiet.Dangerous. Possessive.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, heart pounding.
From behind me, I could hear him say with that same maddening voice—
"Class, take your seats. We're starting."
And just like that—he became my professor again. While I sat in the second row,pretending I wasn't married to the most dangerous man in the building.
////
Professor Kim Taehyung walked through the crowd like a storm in slow motion. Tall, devastatingly handsome, in that all-black suit that clung to his broad shoulders like sin. His hair a bit tousled, lips set in a slight frown like he was bored of the world but too polite to say it.
And the girls? Oh, they swarmed.
"Professor~ I didn't understand the last topic..."
"Professor~ can you explain just this one part again?"
"Professor~ my laptop broke and I lost the notes... maybe we could meet after class?"
I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my childhood.
He nodded politely, kept walking, but they just kept clinging. I could see one trying to lean too close while handing him a file, fake giggling like she wasn't trying to crawl inside his suit pocket.
I scoffed under my breath.
"Go marry him then, Miss Spreadsheet," I muttered like a villain, adjusting my glasses and gripping my notebook tighter.
He didn't even look my way.
Of course not. Here? I was just a student. Just one of many. Invisible.
Not his wife. Not the girl he cooked for. Not the one he held like porcelain every night.
I kept walking, head down, trying not to let it sting. But God, it did.
I hated how it got to me.
I wasn't even mad at him—I was mad at me for caring. For letting those long-legged fake-lashed girls get under my skin.
I sat in my seat quietly, trying to act unbothered, pretending to read. But my ears were tuned in like a spy satellite.
"She's so lucky," one girl whispered behind me.
"Who?"
"That blonde rich brat. The one who got a ride in his car last week."
"Oh my God, seriously? I heard he's single but soooo mysterious."
I slammed my book shut louder than necessary.
Taehyung's head turned instantly from the front desk.
For a second, his gaze locked with mine.
Sharp. Curious.
Like he felt the heat rolling off me.
I looked away first.
Because if I didn't, I was going to get up and throw chalk at someone.
////
I cross my arms and lean back in my seat, biting my inner cheek in pure frustration.
Seriously?
Seriously?
He's not even pretending to be annoyed. He's letting them talk, flirt, hover like they own his damn airspace. And what is he doing?
Smirking.
Not full-blown. Not openly.
But I know that stupid corner lift of his mouth.
That smug little twitch he always does when he's being worshipped.
God, I could punch a desk.
"So this is the real face, huh, Mr. Mafia Professor?" I whisper under my breath, glaring daggers at his back. "Two-faced. Just like every other man. Can't be satisfied with one woman. Tsk."
I clench my pen like I'm planning a murder.
I thought he was different.
I swore he was.
The way he held me... the way he looked at me like I was his world. Was all that fake?
Whatever. Who cares?
Let him flirt. Let him enjoy the attention.
It's not like I care.
It's not like I want to drag him by the tie and growl "You're mine" into his ear.
At all.
"…Ugh!"
I slam my notebook closed.
This day is cursed.
Cursed without my bestie. Why the hell is she absent today of all days?!
I need her. I need her "burn everything down" energy. Her dramatic gasps, her fake sobs, her devilish comebacks.
I feel like a firecracker with no fuse.
I want to explode but I have no one to explode to!
I check my phone under the desk.
No message.
My lips tremble in a pout.
"Come back," I mumble into my sleeve. "I can't tolerate this hellhole without you…"
I rest my chin on my desk, looking like a depressed mushroom, eyes glaring at every girl who so much as giggles near him.
If he so much as laughs back...
Oh, I'm packing my bag and going home to those adorable cubes. I'd rather hang out with Leo and Tiger Cube than witness this damn circus another second.
///
As I walk through the hallway, still fuming from certain someone's fanclub gathering in class, I suddenly freeze.
Oh no.
Oh yes.
Professor Kim Namjoon.
Tall. Calm. That dark forest of a man—made of intellect, soft-spoken lectures, and damn near poetic eye contact. The kind of man who could solve a Rubik's Cube and your emotional trauma in one go.
I literally hear my heart sigh.
Thump-thump.
Ugh!! This gentleman. This calm storm of knowledge and mystery. Why does he look like he belongs in a painting and a psychology journal at the same time?
And that voice…
"Good morning," he says gently, nodding at a passing student.
I MELT.
Soft. Thoughtful. That baritone warmth of a thousand lullabies. Is it legal to sound like a breeze over piano keys?
I hug my notebook tightly and take a sharp breath to contain my swoon.
I smile. "Good morning, Professor Kim."
He smiles back. Gentle. Respectful. Like a king in a fable.
"Such elegance… Such grace…"
The bar is ruined. I will never love another man again. Except—
"Wait," I hiss under my breath. "I am married. To him."
But… if Professor Kim wasn't married already?
Oh, darling…
I would've married this man in a heartbeat.
No mafia drama. No fake threats. Just books, plants, and tea at 5PM.
Smart babies. Soft cuddles. Classical music playing in the background while he reads on the couch in his sweater...
I bite my lip and walk away fast before I actually start writing fanfiction about a married professor in my married head.
Taehyung better not find out where my brain just went.
////
I walk away quickly, but my brain refuses to stop replaying Professor Kim Namjoon's voice like a lullaby loop.
Why is he so calm? Why is he so mature?
Why does he walk like he owns peace?
My heart is stupid. Just because Taehyung pissed me off earlier with his fangirls doesn't mean I should be dreaming of forest professors with psychology degrees and silky cardigan sleeves.
But still…
"If he wasn't married…"
I shake my head. Yah! Pull yourself together, woman! You're married too! You even live with a mafia husband who feeds you, cages you, and calls his pets your babies!
And yet—here I am, dreaming about a man who probably writes poetry in his free time and helps old people cross the street.
I glance up.
Taehyung is standing at the end of the hallway.
He sees me.
I freeze.
He raises one eyebrow.
I panic.
I immediately start glaring at the wall like it insulted me, flip my hair, and stomp off like I'm too busy for stupid love triangles that only exist in my hormonal head.
Please, Lord, don't let him have mind-reading powers.
////
His stare follows me like a storm cloud.
I can feel it even as I turn corners, pretending like I don't know he's still watching. My steps are faster than usual. My heart? Absolute criminal.
I slump into the empty classroom, muttering under my breath.
"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I'm the idiot. Forest professor is married. I'm married. My husband is a mafia. A possessive, borderline insane one. Who cooks. Who kidnaps. Who cuddles. Who—oh shut up!"
I bang my head lightly on the desk. Stupid brain, stop romanticizing random cardigan men with degrees and quiet smiles!
The door creaks open.
I freeze again.
Don't be him. Don't be him. Don't be—
"Enjoying the scenery?"
That voice.
That stupid deep, velvet, dangerous voice.
I slowly lift my head to see Taehyung standing there, arms crossed, black coat sweeping the floor, jaw clenched.
I clear my throat. "Which scenery?"
He smiles. Dangerously.
"The forest one. The one who apparently makes you melt."
I nearly choke on air.
"How do you—"
"You think I wouldn't hear about how my wife is blushing at another professor in public?" he scoffs, walking toward me. "Tch. You're really out here collecting husbands in your head, huh?"
"Y-Yah! I wasn't blushing, okay? And I only said that in my mind!"
He stops in front of me, leaning down. "Your mind isn't as quiet as you think. Especially not when you look at another man like that."
"It's not like I kissed him or asked him to—"
His lips crash onto mine.
Hot. Possessive. Punishing.
My eyes go wide.
He pulls back, smirking darkly.
"There. Now he can wonder why you taste like me."
I blink. My breath? Gone. My legs? Jelly.
"W-W-We're in class!"
"So?" he shrugs. "No one knows we're married, remember? To them, I'm just a possessive professor who hates sharing."
He winks. Then walks away like he didn't just burn down my entire world with one kiss.
I sit there, stunned, hand over my lips.
AHHHHHHHHH!!!
I scream inside my brain so hard it might've echoed through my skull.
How. DARE. He.
How dare he kiss me like that?! In a classroom?! After I literally watched him smile at that blonde girl, touch her hand while handing over a pen, and say "You can come to my office hours anytime."
OH?! REALLY?!
He can flirt? Laugh? Charm everyone like he's Casanova with a PhD?? But I just smile at a man who breathes like autumn and suddenly I'm on his hit list?!
Nope. Nope.
I will fight fire with fire.
I storm through the corridor with murder in my eyes.
I saw a boy from the engineering department looking at me last week. Yeah. Him. I walk past him. Flash a tiny smile. Maybe even tuck my hair behind my ear—
"HI!"
He blinks.
I blink.
WE BOTH PANIC.
WHY DID I YELL?!?
Abort! Abort!!
"Uh...hi," he says, confused but friendly.
OH GOD. WHAT NOW?! FLIRT. FLIRT YOU FOOL!!
"I...uh...do you like plants?"
WHAT?!
"Um. Yeah?"
"Cool. Photosynthesis."
I walk away.
I pace like a maniac down the empty hallway, nearly yanking my hair out. "I'm so stupid! I can't flirt! I'm introverted, awkward, and emotionally constipated!"
I look up—
And freeze.
He's leaning against the pillar. All black. All shadow.
Professor Kim Taehyung.
His jaw is tense. Eyes unreadable.
He heard.
I clench my fists. I raise my chin.
Good. Let him see. Let him be jealous.
He walks toward me.
"You done embarrassing yourself?"
My glare could kill a man.
"I'll flirt with whoever I want. This was a forced marriage, remember? Not love. Not real. You can laugh with all those desperate girls but I can't even—"
"You think I'm laughing with them?" His voice drops. Dangerous. Low. "You think they matter?"
"I SAW YOU!"
He grabs my wrist, yanks me gently but firmly until I crash into his chest.
"I don't care if you flirt with the whole damn campus. I'll still be the one who kisses you breathless. Who makes your heart race. Who tucks you into bed every night. Because whether it was forced or not—" his voice tightens—
"You're mine."
I bite my lip. Hard.
I hate him. I hate how his words turn me to fire.
He leans closer.
"You think you can handle another man when one kiss from me makes you forget your name?"
I shove him. "Go to hell!"
He smirks. "Only if you're coming with me, Mrs. Kim."
]