The Next Morning
The first thing Selen felt was pain.
Not sharp. Not violent. Just a deep, throbbing ache behind her eyes—the kind born of too many shots and too many mistakes.
She groaned, burying her face in the pillow.
Pillow…?
Her lashes fluttered open. White sheets. A ceiling carved with intricate molding. Curtains swaying softly in the morning breeze, carrying a scent—cedarwood and leather. Expensive. Masculine.
Her heart lurched.
This wasn't her apartment.
She bolted upright, clutching the silk blanket, breath uneven. Panic clawed up her throat.
"Where…?" Her voice was hoarse, trembling.
She scanned the room. Polished marble floors. A wall of glass overlooking Seoul's skyline. A nightstand where a tray sat waiting—steam curling from a bowl of hangover soup. A glass of water.
No note.
No explanation.
Her fingers trembled as she touched her dress. Still on. Everything was… untouched.
Relief rushed through her chest. But it didn't stop the pounding of her heart.
Barefoot, she slid off the bed. The cold floor bit at her skin as she crept toward the door. The silence was deafening.
The living room was worse—too clean, too sharp. This wasn't a home; it was a kingdom.
And then the memories came.
The music. The alcohol.
The tears.
A shadow.
A scent.
A voice that cut through the noise—low and dangerous.
And then… nothing.
Her throat went dry. "Where am I?"
The apartment didn't answer. But the untouched soup did. Someone brought her here. Someone tucked her in. Someone watched her long enough to make sure she wouldn't drown in her own misery.
But they were gone now.
And that should've comforted her.
It didn't.
Because it felt like someone was still here—their presence stitched into the walls, the air, the way the silence seemed to breathe with her.
She grabbed her bag and left without looking back. But even in the elevator… even in the sunlight… she felt it—An invisible thread she couldn't cut.
____
Mr. Lee's House
The smell of sizzling eggs and toast filled the kitchen, but it didn't warm the room. Elira moved mechanically, hair tied in a messy bun, exhaustion carved under her eyes.
Her gaze flicked to her phone.
No calls.
No messages.
Only silence.
Mr. Lee sat stiffly on the couch, his cane propped against the armrest, bandages hidden beneath his shirt. His eyes, however, were fixed on the muted TV:
"Breaking: Kim Taehyung, CEO of Veyron Corporation, confirms sudden marriage. Identity of the bride remains undisclosed…"
Mr. Lee's grip on his cane tightened.
"She didn't answer all night," Elira muttered, slamming the pan down harder than necessary. "But Taehyung? Out of everyone in this cursed city…"
Mr. Lee didn't reply. His silence was heavy enough.
"I'll find her," Elira continued. "I don't care if I have to storm his stupid glass tower and drag her out myself—"
"Stop." His voice was quiet. Sharp enough to cut. "You'll only make it worse. That man doesn't play fair."
Elira spun toward him. "So we just sit here?"
The doorbell rang.
They froze.
Mr. Lee's grip tightened on his cane.
"Do you… think it's her?" Elira whispered.
He didn't answer. He stood, slow but steady, as Elira hurried to the door, hope and dread colliding in her chest.
She opened it—
And froze.
Park Jimin stood there. Perfectly pressed suit. Perfectly calm smile.
"Good morning, beautiful " he said lightly.
Elira's brows drew together. "Who—"
But he didn't let her finish. He stepped inside like he owned the place—then turned.
And there he was.
Kim Taehyung.
His presence filled the room before he even spoke. Damp hair slicked back. Dark eyes unreadable. He didn't glance around. He didn't need to.
Eunwoo followed, lazy smirk tugging at his mouth. "So this is the in-laws' place? Cute."
Elira's stomach dropped. "In-laws?"
Mr. Lee moved forward, cane striking the floor like a warning. "Who are you, and why are you in my home?"
Taehyung's answer was steady. Cold.
"I'm here for my wife."
Elira's breath caught. Mr. Lee stared at him, silent for a long, tense moment.
Finally, he exhaled. "Someone blackmailed her, didn't they?"
Selen's father's words cracked the air like thunder.
Taehyung didn't deny it. His jaw flexed. "I know. And if I walk away now, she'll be torn apart by the press. By my enemies. I'm the only thing standing between her and a storm."
Mr. Lee's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't like it. But damn it—he knew the man was right.
With a sharp exhale, Mr. Lee gestured to the couch. "Sit."
Taehyung inclined his head. Jimin and Eunwoo followed, both unsettlingly comfortable in this quiet home.
"Elira," Mr. Lee said without looking at her, "coffee."
Elira gawked. "What—Dad, are you—"
"Coffee," he repeated.
She groaned but obeyed. "Fine." But before she turned away, she shot Taehyung a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
"You," she said, stepping closer, her voice like a dagger wrapped in silk, "if you hurt my Selen, I will make you regret it."
Eunwoo's smirk twitched. Even Jimin looked mildly entertained.
Taehyung?
He chuckled, low, dangerous. "Noted."
Elira huffed and stormed off.
Jimin leaned back, grinning. "I like her."
Eunwoo laughed under his breath.
Mr. Lee didn't laugh. He stared at Taehyung, unblinking.
"Talk," he said flatly.
And Taehyung did.
___
In the Car.
The hum of the engine was the only sound for a moment. Rain tapped lightly against the windshield as the city blurred past.
Nyra's grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles pale.
"Where. The. Hell. Were. You."
Selen winced. She slumped lower in the passenger seat, head pounding, the hangover still lingering. "Nyra, I—"
"Don't you dare 'Nyra' me!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "You vanish after that… that circus of a ceremony, you don't pick up your phone, you don't answer my texts, and then—then you show up looking like you just crawled out of someone else's nightmare?"
Selen flinched at the words but didn't argue. She just stared at her hands in her lap, fingers trembling slightly.
Nyra's jaw clenched. "Do you even realize your dad didn't sleep last night? He got discharged from the hospital and the first thing he asked was if you were home safe. And what do I tell him? Huh? That his daughter disappeared after kissing a man who could probably kill us with a look?"
Selen swallowed hard. Her phone, still silent in her bag, held dozens of missed calls and unread messages from Elira. She saw them. She just… couldn't.
"I didn't want to worry him more," she whispered.
Nyra slammed her palm against the steering wheel. "Oh, great plan! Vanish and make us panic even worse! Genius, Selen. Absolutely brilliant!"
"Nyra…" Selen's voice cracked this time.
Nyra glanced at her out of the corner of her eye—and stopped.
Selen wasn't crying, but she looked… wrecked. Hollow-eyed. Lips pale. Nyra's anger wavered, replaced with worry. "Selen…"
"I woke up in an apartment I didn't recognize," Selen admitted, voice trembling. "Luxury. Empty. There was… soup on the nightstand, Nyra. No note. No one there. Just… me. I didn't even change clothes. I don't remember how I got there."
Nyra's hands tightened on the wheel again—but this time in silent fury.
"Let me guess," she muttered. "Kim Taehyung?"
"I don't know "
Nyra exhaled through her nose like she was holding herself back from marching to Taehyung's penthouse and setting it on fire.
"God, Selen… I swear, if that man breathes wrong, I'm stabbing him."
A weak laugh broke out of Selen, but it died quickly.
Nyra glanced at her again, softer this time. "You should've called me. Or Elira. Hell, even your dad. But instead, you keep all this crap bottled up until it's eating you alive."
"I'm trying," Selen whispered.
"I know," Nyra sighed, her voice losing some of its bite. "But you don't have to do it alone, you idiot."
Selen leaned her head against the window, eyes closing for a moment. For the first time all day, she let herself breathe.
Nyra's car rolled to a stop in front of the familiar driveway. But there—parked like a shadow that didn't belong—was a black luxury car. Sleek. Predatory.
Nyra frowned. "Uh… did your dad suddenly win the lottery and forget to tell us?"
Selen's stomach twisted painfully. She didn't answer. She couldn't.
Her fingers curled around the door handle, knuckles pale. Something felt wrong.
The world was quiet. Too quiet.
They stepped out of the car. The air was cold, heavy with that strange stillness before a storm.
Selen followed Nyra up the steps, her heart pounding like it wanted out of her chest.
Inside, the familiar scent of home greeted her—warm, safe. But it didn't ease the dread clawing up her spine.
"We're home, Elira," Nyra called, voice echoing through the hall.
No response.
They exchanged a look
Selen hesitated, her hand trembling on the strap of her bag. She didn't know how to face her father. How to explain. How to even breathe in front of him knowing the truth.
Nyra nudged her shoulder softly. "Come on. You can do this."
But Selen's feet felt like lead.
And then—
Selen stepped into the living room. She froze. Nyra's breath caught sharply beside her.
Sitting on their couch like he owned the air around him was Kim Taehyung.
Perfect suit. Impeccable posture. Eyes sharp as ice but calm—terrifyingly calm.
Across from him, Mr. Lee sat rigid in his chair, his cane resting against his knee. His expression was unreadable, but his hands… they were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
And against the wall, Jimin leaned casually with a cup of coffee in hand, as if this was nothing more than a business meeting.
Eunwoo was there too, smirking lazily when his gaze landed on Nyra.
"What the actual—" Nyra started, but her words died when she saw the look in Selen's father's eyes.
Her chest constricted.
"Dad…" Selen's voice cracked.
Mr. Lee stood, wincing slightly but steady, his sharp gaze softening the second he saw her.
"Princess," he murmured.
Her throat burned. She moved toward him, and without another word, he opened his arms.
She collapsed into him.
"Dad…" It was barely a whisper, muffled against his chest.
"Shh," he soothed, his voice quiet but steady. "You should've told me… but it's okay. I'm here now. I'll fix this."
Her fists clung to his shirt, trembling. "I didn't want you to worry…"
"I'm your father," he murmured into her hair. "That's my job."
Nyra looked away, biting her lip to hold back tears. Even Jimin's sharp expression softened slightly—but Taehyung…
Taehyung didn't move. He just watched silently. But there was something in his eyes.
A flicker.
Possession.
When Selen finally pulled back from her father, she turned. Her gaze collided with Taehyung's. And the weight of it nearly crushed her.
"Why is he here?" Her voice trembled with anger.
Mr. Lee's hand rested on her shoulder, grounding her. "Because, sweetheart… we need to talk."
Her chest tightened.
And then Taehyung's voice cut through the room, deep and commanding:
"Selen. Pack your things. You're coming with me."
The words hit her like a gunshot.
"What?!" Nyra exploded, stepping in front of her. "Are you out of your mind?! She's not some—"
"Nyra," Selen muttered, grabbing her friend's arm.
"No!" Nyra turned on her, furious. "You can't actually be considering this!"
Taehyung didn't blink. He didn't even flinch.
"She's my wife," he said simply.
The room went silent.
Selen's breath stuttered. Her fists clenched. She wanted to scream.
But all she could do was look away. Then her gaze shifted to her father—he gave her a single, steady nod, quiet permission wrapped in understanding.
"Fine," she whispered, voice trembling but sharp.
Nyra stared at her in disbelief, but one look in Selen's eyes—and she understood. This wasn't surrender. This was survival.
____
The three of them moved quickly, tossing clothes into a suitcase while Nyra muttered curses loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
"I cannot believe you didn't tell me," Nyra snapped, slamming a drawer shut. "You—You literally signed marriage papers and just… what? Decided to keep it as a fun little secret?"
Selen's shoulders tensed.
"I didn't have a choice," she said quietly, folding a sweater with trembling hands. "He forced me."
Nyra stopped dead.
Her anger faltered just a little. "He… what?"
Selen swallowed hard but didn't look at her. "He threatened Dad," she whispered. "If I didn't sign, he—"
Elira paused mid-step, her hands clenching at her sides.
Nyra's eyes softened. For a moment, the rage in her chest shifted into something else—fury, yes, but now aimed at Taehyung instead of her best friend.
"That bastard," Nyra muttered.
Selen forced a small, shaky smile. "It doesn't matter now. It's done."
Nyra crouched in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Hey. Listen to me. Just because it's done doesn't mean it's over."
Elira set down a stack of clothes. "She's right. We're not letting you deal with this alone."
Selen's throat tightened. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a flicker of strength—not from herself, but from the two people who refused to leave her side.
Nyra dragged Selen into a suffocating hug. "If he so much as looks at you wrong, I'm burning down his mansion. I don't care if I get arrested. I'll do it."
Selen laughed through the tears, the sound broken. "I know you would."
From the doorway, a deep voice interrupted.
"Are you ready?"
They all turned.
Taehyung stood there. Leaning against the doorframe, calm. Waiting.
Selen's jaw clenched.
Nyra muttered, "I swear, one day I'm going to trip him down a flight of stairs."
Selen exhaled, straightened her spine, and grabbed her suitcase.
____
Living Room – Farewell
When they came down the stairs, Selen's father was waiting.
Mr. Lee's hands trembled slightly as he looked at his daughter, her suitcase trailing behind her like a verdict. His eyes were tired—but not angry. Only… guilty.
She walked up to him, head bowed. "Dad…"
He didn't let her finish. He pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.
"You should never have gone through this alone," his voice cracked against her hair. "I failed you once, princess. I won't fail you again."
Selen's tears spilled over. "You didn't fail me. You protected me my whole life. I just… I didn't want you to carry this too."
He cupped her face, kissed her forehead like she was still his little girl. "No matter what happens, you come home if it's too much. I'll fight the devil himself if I have to."
Selen laughed weakly through her tears, nodding. "I know, Dad."
From the corner of the room, Taehyung stood silently, his gaze dark and unreadable.
Nyra glared at him like she wanted to stab him with the nearest fork. Eunwoo smirked at her again, just to annoy her, and Jimin… just looked away, as if sensing this wasn't his moment.
Selen hugged Elira next. Her sister held her so tightly it hurt.
"You better come back to me," Elira whispered fiercely. "Or I'll drag you back myself."
Selen smiled faintly. "I'll call every day."
"And if you don't," Elira added, glancing sharply at Taehyung, "I'm coming to that mansion and making a scene."
Nyra grinned viciously. "I'll help."
Selen hugged them both one last time before stepping toward the door—where Taehyung was waiting like a storm she couldn't avoid.
She glanced back one last time—at her father, her sister, her best friend.
And then… she followed him out the door.
____
Inside the Car.
The hum of the engine was the only sound.
Eunwoo's hands gripped the wheel, sharp eyes fixed on the road. Jimin leaned back in the passenger seat, whistling a tune that was far too casual for the suffocating tension filling the car.
In the backseat, Selen sat pressed against the door, her arms folded tight like armor. Beside her, Taehyung was silent—perfectly composed, as if he hadn't just ripped her entire life apart.
Her chest burned. She didn't dare look at him.
And then, without warning…
Tap.
A small velvet box landed on her lap.
Her head snapped toward him. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was smooth, commanding—like this was just another transaction:
"Wear it."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
His eyes met hers, dark and unwavering. "The ring. Put it on."
Her throat tightened, rage bubbling up. He spoke like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't threatened her father. Like he hadn't forced her into this.
"I'm not—"
"Don't test me, Selen." His voice was quiet, but sharp enough to cut.
Before she could argue, Jimin twisted in his seat, smirking like a devil trying to save a dying atmosphere.
"Well, at least it's pretty," he drawled. "Biggest diamond I've seen in months. Careful, Selen, you might blind someone with that thing."
Selen glared at him. "Not helping."
"Oh, I'm very helpful," Jimin teased. "You get a mansion, a husband, and now a rock that could probably pay off my car."
"Shut up, Jimin," Eunwoo muttered from the driver's seat, but there was amusement in his voice.
Meanwhile, Taehyung didn't say a word. He simply leaned back, watching her like a predator who already knew the outcome.
Selen clenched her jaw, staring down at the box.
God, she hated him.
And yet… with trembling fingers, she picked it up.
The moment the ring slid onto her finger, Taehyung's gaze shifted. For just a fraction of a second—so brief she almost doubted it—his eyes softened.
But then it was gone.
"Good," he murmured. "Now it looks official."
Her blood boiled.
Jimin grinned at her reflection in the window. "Congrats, Mrs. Kim. Can I be the first to say—your husband is terrifying."
"Keep talking," Taehyung warned lazily.
Jimin only smirked wider. "See? Adorable."
Selen wanted to scream. Instead, she turned her face toward the window, fists curling in her lap.
This was going to be the longest car ride of her life.