𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 ꆂꋫ꓅ꑛ
➪ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑚𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
➪ 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐻𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑟𝑢𝑛 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑎𝑦𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑏𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑦, ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡, 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑎𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑦𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝑆𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑖𝑙𝑑’𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟.
➪ 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 (𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑒), 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎, 𝑝𝑠𝑦𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤-𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 (𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒)
➪ 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐶𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑘𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑒, 𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑝𝑠𝑦𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑘ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑚 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑑𝑦𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑐𝑠, 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑎𝑙, 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎, 𝑔𝑢𝑛 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠, 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡, 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡
⚠️ 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑖 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑑𝑛𝑖🔞🔞🔞
|| 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑤 || 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ||
The smell of rain on pavement always made you feel safe.
It reminded you of childhood warm lights, tea kettles whistling, your brother calling your name with tired affection.
But this storm didn’t feel safe. It was quiet. Too quiet. You stood at the window of your apartment, watching water drip from the overhang, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Minjae’s name. Five calls. No answer. Not even a read receipt.
That wasn’t like him. Not when he was the one who usually flooded your phone with updates and late night “grab eggs on your way home” messages. Not when he was the one who always said, “We only have each other. Stay close.” You should have known something was wrong. The apartment was modest but clean furnished with secondhand furniture, tastefully decorated with soft neutral tones and a few framed photos. One of them sat on the entryway table. You and Minjae. Both laughing. Back when things were simple. Back when you still believed he could protect you from anything.
10:34 PM The sound of keys jiggling in the front lock made you exhale in relief.“Finally,” you muttered, padding to the door. But it didn’t open. The metal scraped. Then again. Then Your breath caught in your throat. Not keys. Not him. The lock was being picked. “Hello?” your voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
Then a second of stillness before the door burst open with a slam, and three men in black stormed inside. You didn’t even have time to scream before one grabbed your arm, another yanked your phone from your hand and slammed it to the floor, and the third cuffed your wrists behind your back like you were a criminal. “LET GO OF ME!” You kicked. Fought. Bit one in the shoulder hard enough to draw blood. “GET OFF ME, I’M—!” A fist connected with your stomach. You dropped to your knees, gasping.
“Shut her up,” one muttered. A black cloth was tied over your mouth. The hallway lights spun as your body was lifted dragged out of the home you fought to build, down the stairwell, into the pouring rain. No one stopped them. No one helped. The last thing you saw before the trunk door slammed shut… was the cracked photo of you and Minjae on the ground. Shattered.
𝒪𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝒹ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎
“She’s on her way,” a man said, adjusting the cuff of his suit. Across from him, Park Seonghwa sipped from a glass of red wine, his expression unreadable. “Was there trouble?” “She fought like hell.” The man in front of him said Seonghwa’s lips curved just slightly. “Good.” He set the glass down. Turned toward the hallway that led to the grand staircase. “I hate quiet women”
𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒶𝓁
The mansion was cold. Not cold like winter, but cold like death like silence that never left. Your boots one of which had been ripped halfway off dragged uselessly across the marble floor as two men hauled you through the gilded foyer.
Your face was bloodied, Lip split, Knee raw from when you slammed into the pavement trying to run. Wrists swollen from the cuffs. Your hair stuck to your face from the rain and the fight. But your eyes they still burned. You didn’t cry. You wouldn’t.Not until you found your brother.
They dragged you up a staircase lined with oil paintings and security cameras, then down a velvet runner to double doors with black handles. One of the guards knocked once. Someone inside said, “Let her in.” The door creaked open.
And there he was. Park Seonghwa. Leaning against a sleek black desk. Dressed in black, from his collared shirt to his gloves. Clean. Unbothered. Cold. His eyes met yours like you were dirt tracked into his house. His gaze dropped to the blood on your chin, the bruising on your wrists.
“Tch,” he said. “I told them to bring you in one piece. They always overdo it. You ripped your arms out of the guards’ hold and staggered into the room. Your breathing was ragged, but your voice was steady. “Where’s Minjae?” Seonghwa tilted his head. “Hm?”seongwha questions “My brother. Where. Is. He.” You ask
He slowly walked toward you, his gloved hands in his pockets, lips twitching into something that might’ve been a smirk or a warning.“You mean the man who sold you?” You flinched. “Shut up.”“He did,” Seonghwa said, stopping a few feet from you. His tone was light. Amused.
“He offered you up like a business deal. Told me you’d be quiet. Obedient. Well-trained.” He chuckled lowly. “Clearly, he oversold.” Your nails dug into your palms. Your voice cracked.“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” he said softly, leaning in close enough for you to smell the leather and wine on his breath. “Then why aren’t you in your home right now, sweetheart?” “Why hasn’t he come for you?” “Why did he disappear the moment his debt was wiped clean?”
You stared at him, heart pounding. “He would never do that to me.” Seonghwa smiled. Not kind. Not gentle. It was the kind of smile people saw before a gunshot. “Then I have some bad news.”
“Your brother…” He walked slowly around you like a predator circling a wounded animal. “Is the reason you’re here.” “He’s the reason you’re standing in my house.” “On my time. On your knees, if I tell you to be.” You turned and shoved him hard. “GO TO HELL!”Seonghwa didn’t even stumble. He just laughed.
“You think this is hell?” he asked cruelly. “You haven’t even worn the dress yet.” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “He’s going to come for me,” you said. Seonghwa’s eyes sharpened like a blade. “No, he’s not.” “He—” just as you were about to deny it “He thinks you’re dead.” Seongwha says. You froze.
“And if he ever tries to prove otherwise…” He leaned in. Voice low. Deadly. “I’ll make him wish he never crawled out of his mother’s womb.” You fell silent. Everything inside you cracked, then went quiet. And for the first time since they’d dragged you out of your home You felt truly alone.
The bed was too soft. The sheets too clean. You lay still in the dark, surrounded by velvet, silk, and the scent of roses that somehow made your stomach turn. The bruises on your ribs pulsed with every breath. Your wrists still burned. Every time you blinked, you saw Seonghwa’s smile that cold, beautiful smirk right before he said your brother wasn’t coming.
You didn’t cry. Tears meant defeat. You just stared at the ceiling and waited for morning like it might bring a knife or a miracle. Neither came.
soft knock stirred you awake.“Miss YN?” a quiet voice called. “It’s morning. We’ve brought you clothes.” You didn’t move.
Seconds later, the door creaked open. Two women stepped inside, dressed in sleek black uniforms, heads slightly bowed. Their hands moved quickly—pulling open curtains, laying out folded clothes in pale linen, a basin of warm water. You sat up slowly, muscles aching. “I don’t want your clothes,” you said. One of them spoke softly. “Mr. Seonghwa asked for you to join him for breakfast.”
“I don’t care.” Still, they helped clean your wounds gentle hands, but no warmth behind them. Like trained staff changing a display doll. You didn’t fight. Not because you gave in. But because you were watching. Learning. Waiting. They dressed you in a soft, cream blouse and a long skirt that hugged your waist. Barefoot. Hair fixed to be perfect. Lip still cracked.
The Dining Room. You were escorted through a hall of mirrors and marble to a wide, sun-drenched room. The table was long enough to seat twenty. At the end sat Seonghwa, dressed in a pressed gray shirt, sipping black coffee like he hadn’t destroyed your entire life twelve hours ago.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kang,” he said calmly, not looking up from the newspaper. “Or shall I say, soon-to-be.” You didn’t respond. You sat at the farthest end of the table, untouched food in front of you fruit, toast, eggs, tea. Your stomach turned. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked, finally meeting your eyes.
“I’d rather starve.” He leaned back in his chair, his tone smooth. “Go ahead. I’ll feed you myself if I have to.”You said nothing. He smirked. “Fine. Starve. But don’t faint during the fitting. That would be dramatic even for you.” Your head snapped up.“What fitting?” You asked “Your wedding dress, of course,” he said simply. “Unless you’d prefer a coffin. You’d look stunning in either.”
The Fitting Room
The room looked like it belonged in a bridal magazine. Ivory walls, full-length mirrors, gowns in every shade of white hanging from delicate racks. You stood in the center, arms crossed, refusing to speak as a designer shaky and nervous presented one dress after another.
“This one is Paris silk. Or this, in hand-beaded lace—” “I’m not wearing any of them,” you snapped. Seonghwa sat in the corner, legs crossed, sipping wine like it was water, watching you like a man amused by a storm behind glass.
“You’ll have to wear something, darling,” he said lazily. “Unless you want to be married naked. I’m not opposed.” You turned to him, eyes blazing. “Why are you doing this?” He didn’t answer immediately. He just stood slowly and walked toward you hands in pockets, posture relaxed, like he wasn’t the villain in the room.
“You want a reason?” “Fine.” “Because your brother begged for his life and gave yours instead.” “Because I can.” “Because I wanted to see if you’d look this angry in white.” He tilted his head. “And you do. It suits you.” You tried to slap him. He caught your wrist. “There it is,” he whispered, smirk gone. “The fire.” You yanked your hand away, trembling.
“You can force me into a dress. But I will never belong to you.” He smiled softly now, something far more chilling than mockery. “You already do.” Then he turned to the designer. “Let her choose whatever she wants. But make sure it fits her neck just tight enough to remind her it’s still a noose.”
Dinner was quiet. Too quiet. You sat at the end of the massive dining table in a soft ivory dress. Your wounds were mostly healed, though a faint bruise still lingered on your cheek, hidden beneath powder. Seonghwa sat at the head of the table like a king cutting his steak calmly, sipping wine like the world was perfectly in place.
He barely spoke to you. Just the occasional glance. You fixed your face to smirk when your fork scraped the plate too hard. He knew you hated this. That you were performing. But tonight, you didn’t fight. You played along. Because tonight, you were going to run.
After Dinner A warm bath had already been drawn for you. Lavender. Rose oil. All too gentle for a prisoner.
Two maids helped you in silence, washing your arms and legs like you were royalty instead of a woman stolen from her own life. You didn’t argue. You let them dress you in a pale silk robe, fixed your hair up for what’s appropriate for bed, place slippers at your feet.
You smiled. Thanked them. And when they left the room, you counted down from sixty…And moved.
You crept down the hall like you’d done in your mind a dozen times.The guards rotated out every thirty minutes. You’d timed it. The side door near the garden was always unlocked between dusk and nightfall. The window at the end of the corridor? Slightly faulty. You tested it once when no one was looking. You moved fast and quieter than you’d ever been.
You turned the corner. Pressed your fingers to the window latch Lifted A voice stopped you cold. “I was wondering when you’d try this.” You froze. No, No, no, no He wasn’t supposed to be here.
Seonghwa stood at the end of the hall, his sleeves rolled up, expression unreadable. No guards. No violence. Just him. “You bathed. You smiled at dinner.”His voice dropped. “That was your first mistake.” You turned and bolted down the hall “oh fuck, fuck” you say but you didn’t make it far.
His arm came around your waist, spinning you into him. You fought like hell kicking, elbowing, screaming into his chest but he didn’t flinch.
“Let me GO!” “You had your chance,” he growled.
He threw the door open and slammed it shut behind him, locking it with a loud click. You backed away, eyes wild, chest heaving. “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screamed “You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “You don’t smile when you eat with people you hate.”
“You think this is about dinner?” “No,” he said coldly, taking off his watch and setting it on the table. “It’s about you not learning.” You lunged for the door. He caught you, this time pinning your wrists to the wall. But he didn’t strike. He didn’t curse. He just stared at you.
“Are you going to sleep now,” he murmured, “or do I need to tie you to the bed?” You spit at him. He laughed. Low and dangerous. “You’re lucky I like fire.” He didn’t tie you down.But he did something way fucking worse.
He slid into your bed that night. Fully dressed, one arm around your waist, holding you like an anchor. Like a threat. His breath hit the back of your neck. His body heat wrapped around you like chains. “Sleep,” he murmured. “If you try to run again, I’ll cut the air out of this room.” You hated him. But still… you slept.Because for one fucked up moment You felt warm.
Wedding Morning
You woke alone, in silks and sunlight. A note sat on the edge of the bed in his handwriting: “Don’t bother running. The whole estate is locked. See you at the altar, Mrs. Park.” You tore it in half. But part of you… knew he was right.
The Ceremony The air was thick with incense and expectation.
The hanbok was heavy on your shoulders, red and gold silk trailing across the floor like blood. You stood at the edge of the ceremonial platform, staring at the courtyard full of strangers and snakes every one of them dressed in power, silence, and secrets.
Then Seonghwa entered. His robes matched yours. Traditional, regal, perfect. His expression was unreadable. Cold like always. His father nodded. His mother didn’t blink. His sister whispered something to a woman beside her and smirked.
You didn’t want to bow. You did anyway.You went through the motions.The rituals. The slow, careful sips of tea. The hand-holding. The gazes locked as petals fell from above. It looked beautiful. But it felt like a funeral. You couldn’t help but wonder which version of yourself had died. The free one? Or the foolish one who thought she could ever escape?
The Wedding Night
The room was dimly lit, the bed adorned in red. You sat on the edge in silence, still wearing the hanbok. You refused to change. You refused to make this more real than it already was. When Seonghwa entered, he looked amused.“Still dressed?”“Still waiting to fight.” He poured himself a drink. Didn’t come near you. “You think I’m here to sleep with you,” he said, sipping slowly. You stayed silent.
“Oh please,” he scoffed, turning to face you. “I’m not that evil. I don’t fuck people without consent.”You looked at him then. Calm. Sharp. “You’ve done everything else without consent.” He didn’t flinch. But the tension shifted just slightly. “Touché,” he said softly. “I’ll give you that.”
He walked toward you, slowly. Stopped in front of you, his hand reaching out But only to undo the ribbon holding your hanbok together. You flinched.“Relax,” he muttered. “Just take it off. You’ll sleep better.” “Not if you’re in the room.” “Then I’ll sleep on the balcony.” “I don’t want you near me.”
“You’re not getting what you want,” he whispered, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “But you are getting what you need.” You slapped his hand away. He only smiled. Then walked out onto the balcony and shut the door behind him.
The Next Morning You woke up alone. Again. You sat up, sore in places that had nothing to do with the body and everything to do with the soul. You got dressed in silence, ignored the breakfast tray someone had left, and paced the room like a caged animal. Then the knock came. And before you could answer, the door flung open. “OHMYGOD you’re so pretty! You’re even prettier up close. hi! HI! You must be YN right? The wife? Oh my god, I’m so nervous—”
A girl barreled into the room like a caffeinated storm. Probably around your age, but her energy felt like it belonged to someone half that. She was short, bubbly, wearing a bright yellow dress that absolutely did not belong in this house of marble and menace.
“Who—” “Oh! Sorry! I’m Jiwoo. Seonghwa said I’m your gift!” You blinked.“My what?” “Your gift. Companion. Friend. Emotional support prisoner okay, I made that last one up but seriously! He thought you might be lonely and since I never shut up and he’s y’know, him he said maybe we’d balance each other out.” You stared at her.
She smiled. Big, Bright, Unapologetically chaotic. Then Seonghwa appeared in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching the chaos unfold with deadpan amusement. “She talks too much,” he said flatly. “I’ve thought about killing her at least a dozen times.” “Hey!” Jiwoo pouted.
“But…” he continued, eyes on you. “I didn’t. I thought you might want someone… different.” You said nothing. “Don’t thank me,” he added coolly.
“It wasn’t kindness. I just don’t want you going mad and slicing your wrists before the reception.” “Wow,” Jiwoo whispered beside you.
“He’s so romantic.” As she says that you look at her like she just bitch slapped you in the most offending way “what?, am I wrong”
You weren’t told about the reception until an hour before it began. You had just finished dealing with Jiwoo who was now humming and twirling in the corner of your room like this was a princess movie and not your private hell when another knock came.
Two women entered with a new hanbok, this one sapphire blue with gold embroidery. “Mr. Seonghwa is expecting you downstairs. His family and inner circle are waiting.” You didn’t move. “Inner circle?” “The rest of The Gild,” one said quietly. “His brothers.”
The Reception ballroom was opulent, candlelit, laced in gold, white peonies, and shadow. Music drifted through the air, traditional instruments mixed with low modern undertones. Guests stood in clusters, sipping champagne and smiling like none of them had killed a man in their lives. And then you saw them. They weren’t wearing name tags. But you knew they were different. Eight of them. A unit. A force. Seonghwa’s Gilded Circle.
“Don’t look so stiff,” a voice murmured beside you. It was him. Seonghwa, appearing at your side, dressed in jet-black hanbok lined with silver. “Smile, Mrs. Park. You’re about to meet the people who can ruin countries with one phone call.” He took your hand. You didn’t smile.
The Introductions were…..kinda weird but some comforting and some not. First came Hongjoong. Sharp eyes, short stature, commanding presence. He gave you a polite nod, but his gaze was calculating. “So you’re the fireball,” he said. “Didn’t think Seonghwa had it in him.” “Had what?” You questioned “A conscience. Or a wife.” Seonghwa just sipped his drink beside you, unimpressed.
Then San stepped forward, grinning. More casual, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You punch people when you’re mad or break their stuff?” “Both.”you say “Nice,” he smirked. “You’ll fit in.”
Then came Wooyoung, who looked you up and down shamelessly before letting out a low whistle. “Damn. We thought you’d be boring.” “I am,” you deadpanned. “Feisty I see” he winked, nodding toward Seonghwa. Seonghwa didn’t even blink.
Yeosang came next elegant, quiet, and unreadable. He didn’t speak to you. He just bowed his head slightly and moved on. But his eyes lingered long enough to say he was watching.
Then Mingi towering, warm smile, but his knuckles looked like they’d never fully healed.“I don’t like what he did to you,” he said, completely unprompted. “But if he didn’t, someone worse would have.” You blinked. He gave you a small, sad smile.
Jongho was last younger, observant, and with a presence that felt like stone beneath silk. “You’re stronger than you look,” he said quietly. “Don’t let him break you.” You didn’t answer. Because if you spoke, the truth might come spilling out. I’m already cracked.
The reception was winding down fewer strangers, more silence, and far more eyes on you. You stood near a row of white camellias, clutching a glass of untouched wine, barely breathing. Then he appeared beside you. “It’s time,” Seonghwa said, quiet enough that only you heard. “My family wants to speak with you.” You didn’t answer. He didn’t wait for one.
His Mother. Lady Park was standing beneath a paper lantern tree, dressed in a soft jade hanbok that shimmered like water. Her features were refined but not cold, and when she saw you, her entire expression changed. Warm, Gentle, and Surprisingly maternal. “So… you’re our girl,” she said softly, stepping forward.
You were braced for something sharp. Instead, she took your hands in hers. “You must’ve been so scared,” she murmured. “I can only imagine how strange all of this must feel to you.” You blinked. “I—yes. It’s… a lot.” She gave a small, knowing smile. “My son is many things. He’s not good at slow beginnings.”You almost laughed. Almost.
“But he’s loyal,” she added. “And dangerous. And sometimes kind in ways no one sees.” “You’re stronger than I expected. That’s good. He needs someone who doesn’t flinch.” Then she did something no one else had done since you were taken. She hugged you. No theatrics. Just soft arms around your tense frame, and a mother’s calm voice in your ear. “You’re not alone here. Not entirely.” You didn’t know what to say.
His Father. Lord Park stood to the side, swirling a glass of dark liquor, eyes unreadable. He looked at you once. Nodded. “Strong jaw,” he said. You blinked. “Excuse me?” You say confused by the words he chose to use “Your face. You’re not weak. That’ll serve you well here.” He says. You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or a warning. Maybe both. He didn’t speak again.
His Sister. You didn’t notice her until she popped up beside you with a full plate of snacks and the world’s most mischievous grin. “I saved you the only good food they served,” she whispered. You blinked. She shoved a piece of tteok into your hand. “Eat. You look like you haven’t had a real meal since they kidnapped you.”You choked a little.
“I’m Yeona,” she said, linking your arm with hers. “Seonghwa’s sister. Technically. Emotionally? Way cooler.” You didn’t know how to react. She winked. “If you ever wanna run, I know five exits, six secret doors, and which guards take bribes.” “You’re joking… right?”you ask She just smiled. “I’ll let you decide.”
Later That Evening You sat on the balcony alone, hair undone, shoes off, wine glass half-full. For the first time since you arrived here, your body wasn’t clenched in fear.
You didn’t feel safe. But you felt seen. Maybe… maybe that was something. Seonghwa appeared in the doorway. “They liked you,” he said. “Even your father?” You say “That was his version of affection.” You glanced up.
“Your mother… she hugged me.” You say softly “She doesn’t do that for just anyone.” he answered “And your sister?” You asked “If she gave you food, you’re part of the family now. Permanently.” You paused. “That’s not comforting.” Seonghwa smiled just a little. Then turned to leave. “Get some rest. Tomorrow I’m giving you a gift.” “A gift?” You asked “You’ll see.” He says
“Why the hell are we going to a mall?”you say confused “Because I said so,” Seonghwa replied. That was your only warning. Jiwoo squealed with excitement as soon as she heard, spinning in her socks down the hallway. “OHMYGOD YES. I haven’t touched real lip gloss in months. I’m going to buy fifteen.”
“I’m not going,” you muttered. “Yes, you are,” Seonghwa said without looking up from his watch. “You need clothes. You’re not wearing funeral gowns for the rest of your life.” “I like black.”you say “And I like seeing you in things you didn’t fight someone to wear.”
In the car You sat in the back of the black SUV. Seonghwa beside you. Jiwoo in the front seat, feet on the dash, singing along to a girl group like this was a road trip instead of a power play. The windows were tinted. The guards followed in a separate vehicle. Two more were stationed in the mall already. You weren’t escaping.
You knew it. He knew it. But you still glanced at every exit like a plan might suddenly fall into your lap. “Don’t,” Seonghwa said without looking at you. “They’ll shoot you before you hit the street.” “You’re charming,” you muttered. “You’re married. Get used to me.”
The Mall he took you too was packed. You hadn’t seen so many people in weeks. The lights were bright. The air smelled like cinnamon pretzels and perfume samples. Teenagers laughed. A couple held hands by the escalators. Two kids were playing in the fountain and got scolded by their mom. The normalcy was dizzying. You didn’t realize how empty you’d felt until now.
Jiwoo dragged you into a clothing store within seconds. “Okay, okay, hear me out,” she said, holding up a sparkly crop top. “This and the red heels. Boom. Hot girl vengeance.” “I’m not trying to be hot.” You say coldly“You already are,” she said.“Now let’s dress like it.”
You let her shove clothes into your arms, not fighting this time. Not yet. Not here. You tried on a few outfits. Picked some jeans, tops, soft sweaters. Things that didn’t feel like chains.
You stepped out of the dressing room in a simple beige dress, short and sleeveless. Seonghwa, seated casually by the wall, looked up from his phone. Paused. And stared. “Is it too much?” you asked Jiwoo. But he answered.“No,” Seonghwa said. “It’s perfect.”
The Food Court was filled with many people and You didn’t want to eat with him. So Jiwoo filled a tray with bubble tea and spicy tteokbokki and sat with you in the corner booth. Seonghwa sat across from you both, sipping iced Americano like he wasn’t a mafia husband watching his wife eat fish cakes. “Why are you really here?” you asked him, low. “To spend time with you.” “So now you care?” You asked
“No,” he said, lips curling. “I just like keeping you close. Watching you squirm.” “You’re sick.” You say glaring “And you’re still here.” He says Jiwoo made a dramatic choking sound between bites. “Can you two NOT flirt like villains at a high school lunch table? I’m trying to digest.” You glared. Seonghwa smirked.
“Okay this is it,” Jiwoo grinned.She dragged you to the glowing beauty counter like it was a holy altar. “Today, I turn you into a hottie in mascara.”
“I don’t need makeup to be a hottie” you smirked. “Fair. But imagine being hot and bad as hell. That’s unstoppable.” She started dabbing highlighter on your cheekbones while you scowled in the mirror. Seonghwa stood across the store, arms crossed, watching like a hawk as two guards lingered nearby. But for the first time… you didn’t care.
You were laughing. With Jiwoo. With someone who didn’t want to own you or control you. Someone who might actually be your friend. “Hey,” Jiwoo whispered while brushing powder on your jaw. “You know why he brought me to you, right?” “Because I was lonely?” You say confused “Because he trusts me to kill anyone who gets too close.” You blinked surprised. she smiles like nothing. “I may be loud, but I’m trained. Your little bodyguard. And You? You’re the only person he’s ever looked at like you matter.”
Your stomach flipped. “He doesn’t care.” You say determined that he doesn’t “He would’ve killed me a long time ago if he didn’t care about you.”
You were exiting the store when something happened. You caught a glimpse of a man in a cap too still, eyes too alert. You turned, just in time to see the blade glint in the air “SEONGHWA—!” You yelled But Seonghwa had already seen it. He pushed you back, took the hit with a grunt. A silver dagger buried deep in his side. Blood soaked through his white shirt instantly.
The guards tackled the attacker. A another attacker coming towards you this time. Jiwoo without hesitation kicked the attacker back knocking him to the ground and swiftly kicking him in the face knocking him unconscious.
You dropped to Seonghwa’s side, shaking. “Stupid girl,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Why are you shaking? I’m not dying.” “Shut up,” you whispered “Stop talking like it’s just a scratch—”you scold him “It is.” He inputs
But it wasn’t. Blood poured from the wound, hot and terrifying. And yet all he said wasAre you hurt?” ”What?” You say caught off guard by the question “Are. You. Hurt?” He repeats “No—god, no, but you—” you say “Good.” Then he passed out in your arms.
Later That Night He survived. Of course he did. Three doctors. Private surgery. And a scar that would haunt you forever. You sat beside him in his private room, still in your dress, blood dried on your sleeves. He hadn’t woken yet. Jiwoo brought you tea. She didn’t talk much after that. “He told me once,” she said, quiet, “that there are only two reasons he wouldn’t kill someone who got close.”“Why?” You ask “One because they were useful. Two because they made him feel something he couldn’t understand.” She looked down at her cup. “He doesn’t understand you.”
He woke at midnight. Groggy, Pale, But alive. And the first thing he did? “Check her,” he rasped. “Did anyone touch her?” The guards shook their heads. You were stunned silent. Later that night, after the chaos cooled and the bleeding stopped, he called for you. A black velvet box sat beside him. “What is it?” You questioned “Our rings.” He says “What?” You say confused “Marriage rings. Real ones.” He says.
You stared. Inside were two delicate silver bands, thin and simple. One for him. One for you. Etched with some sort of symbol you didn’t recognize.“You’ll wear it,” he said. “Always.” He says “What if I take it off?” You ask. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t.”
You slid it on your finger. Something cold pricked your skin for a brief second like a needle under the surface. You gasped. “What the hell—?” “Security,” he said. “So you’re never unmarked again.” You stared at him. He wore his too.
©𝙺𝙿𝙾𝙿𝙲𝙰𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙴
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 !!
𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬
