The sleek black Bentley purred through Seoul's glittering nightscape, carrying Min-ji and her new husband toward their first public appearance. Through tinted windows, she watched neon signs and towering skyscrapers blur together, so different from the quiet neighborhood where her little flower shop stood.

Had it really been only hours since she'd been arranging lilies, worrying about inventory? Now she sat beside one of Seoul's most dangerous men, dressed in a crimson silk gown that had materialized as if by dark magic, wearing diamonds that caught the passing lights and threw them back in fractured brilliance.

"Remember," Jungkook said, breaking the tense silence that had stretched between them since leaving the estate, "you're to smile, stay close to me, and speak only when directly addressed."

Min-ji turned from the window, studying his profile. In the dim light of the car's interior, his features seemed carved from shadow—all sharp angles and forbidden beauty.

"And if someone asks how we met?" she challenged quietly.

A muscle in his jaw tightened. "We say it was a private courtship. No one will dare press for details."

"Because they're afraid of you," Min-ji observed.

Jungkook's eyes flicked to her, dark and unreadable. "Yes."

"But I'm not supposed to be afraid of you, am I? Not tonight, at least." Min-ji smoothed her hands over the silk covering her thighs. "What kind of wife should I be? Adoring? Submissive? Or merely decorative?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in what might have been amusement. "Perceptive. Be exactly what you are—intelligent but reserved. Knowing enough to understand the room but wise enough not to reveal that understanding."

Before Min-ji could respond, the car slowed, turning into a circular driveway before a gleaming high-rise. A man in a tailored suit opened her door, offering his hand with practiced deference.

Jungkook appeared at her side almost instantly, dismissing the valet with a nod and placing his hand at the small of her back. The pressure of his fingers against her bare skin sent an unwelcome shiver through her body.

"Remember who you are tonight," he murmured close to her ear as they approached the building entrance. "You're Min-ji Jeon now. My wife. Act accordingly."

The private dining room on the top floor overlooked all of Seoul, the city sprawled below like a carpet of stars. Five men and three women rose as they entered, their curious gazes barely concealing calculation behind polite smiles.

"Jungkook," greeted an older man with silver temples and eyes like flint. "We were beginning to think you might not join us."

"I wouldn't miss this gathering, Chairman Park," Jungkook replied smoothly. "Especially not tonight, when I have someone to introduce." His arm slid around Min-ji's waist, pulling her closer. "My wife, Min-ji."

A ripple of surprise moved through the room—subtle, but unmistakable. These people, whoever they were, hadn't expected this announcement.

"Wife?" The man who'd spoken—Chairman Park—recovered first, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "I wasn't aware you were even courting someone. Congratulations are in order." He turned to Min-ji with an appraising look. "Tell me, my dear, what family are you from?"

Min-ji felt Jungkook's fingers tighten fractionally against her side—a warning.

"No family of consequence, Chairman," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. "Just a simple florist before I met Jungkook."

The silence that followed was heavy with unasked questions.

"How... refreshing," murmured a woman in a designer dress, her smile razor-sharp. "An ordinary girl catching Seoul's most eligible bachelor. Quite the fairy tale."

"Indeed," Jungkook agreed, his tone pleasant but carrying an edge that made even Min-ji tense. "Though I wouldn't call my wife ordinary. Shall we be seated? I'm sure the chef is eager to begin serving."

The meal that followed was an elaborate dance of power disguised as pleasure. Course after exquisite course arrived, accompanied by wines Min-ji couldn't hope to identify. The conversation flowed around topics that seemed innocuous on the surface—business developments, market trends, a upcoming charity gala—but Min-ji sensed currents beneath the words, territories being marked, alliances being tested.

She observed more than she spoke, noting how the others deferred to Jungkook despite his being the youngest man present. They feared him, yes, but there was something else in their deference—a grudging respect, perhaps, or recognition of inescapable reality. In this room of powerful people, her new husband was apex predator.

"So, Mrs. Jeon," said a man Min-ji had heard addressed as Director Kim, during a lull between courses. "How are you finding married life so far?"

Jungkook's hand came to rest on her thigh beneath the table, a silent reminder of their earlier conversation.

"Everything has happened rather quickly," Min-ji admitted with a practiced smile. "But I'm adjusting."

"I imagine so," Director Kim replied, his gaze flicking between her and Jungkook. "Quite a change from arranging flowers to being the wife of—" He paused, as if catching himself. "Well, to this lifestyle."

"My wife has many talents beyond floristry," Jungkook interjected smoothly. "Her eye for beauty and detail is unparalleled. I've already advised her to close her shop and focus on more... suitable pursuits."

Min-ji's head snapped toward him. "Close my shop? But you said—"

She stopped herself, realizing too late she'd contradicted him publicly. The atmosphere around the table shifted instantly, like air pressure dropping before a storm.

Jungkook's smile remained fixed, but his eyes burned with warning as they met hers. "We'll discuss the details later, jagiya. Tonight isn't for business talk."

The endearment—"darling" in Korean—fell from his lips with practiced ease, but his fingers dug into her thigh, hard enough to bruise.

Min-ji forced her expression to remain neutral. "Of course. Whatever you think best."

The moment passed, conversation resuming around them, but Min-ji felt the weight of curious stares. She'd made a mistake—revealed a crack in the façade of their perfect union—and these people, whoever they were in Jungkook's world, had noticed.

The rest of the evening blurred into a symphony of tension for Min-ji. She smiled when appropriate, thanked their hosts graciously as they departed, and maintained perfect composure all the way to the car. Only when the door closed behind them, sealing them in privacy, did she turn to Jungkook.

"You lied," she accused quietly. "You said I could keep my shop."

Jungkook loosened his tie with one hand, his expression impassive. "I said what was necessary in the moment."

"So which is the lie? What you told me, or what you told them?"

He regarded her coolly. "You'll find, wife, that truth is flexible in my world. Your shop remains yours—for now. But appearances matter, and it wouldn't do for my wife to be seen tending a retail counter."

"That shop is all I have left," Min-ji said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "My parents built it. It's the only place where I'm still myself."

Something flickered in Jungkook's eyes—an emotion Min-ji couldn't identify before it vanished behind his usual mask.

"You are no longer just yourself," he said, his voice low and controlled. "You are a Jeon now. My wife. Everything you do, everything you are, reflects on me and my organization."

"Your organization," Min-ji repeated. "Those people tonight—they weren't just business associates, were they? They're part of your... other business."

Jungkook's mouth curved into a humorless smile. "Very perceptive, Mrs. Jeon. Yes, they're influential figures in various aspects of Seoul's power structure. Some legitimate, some less so."

"And what am I to them? A curiosity? A pawn?"

"Currently, you're an unknown variable," he replied candidly. "Which makes you potentially dangerous. Your little outburst tonight didn't help matters."

Min-ji's hands clenched in her lap. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"You didn't embarrass me," Jungkook corrected, surprising her. "You revealed a vulnerability—a disagreement between us. In my world, vulnerabilities are exploited." He shifted, turning more fully toward her in the spacious backseat. "Which brings me to an important point. From now on, any disagreements between us remain private. In public, you support me without question. Understood?"

It wasn't a request. Min-ji nodded stiffly.

"Good." Jungkook leaned back, his gaze still fixed on her. "Now, about your sister—"

Min-ji's heart stuttered. "Has something happened? Is she—"

"Calm yourself," he interrupted. "The extraction is proceeding as planned. My men have made contact with the Hans and negotiations are underway. By this time tomorrow, she should be free."

Relief flooded through Min-ji, momentarily washing away her anger and fear. "Thank you," she said softly, meaning it.

Jungkook inclined his head slightly, accepting her gratitude as his due. "Once she's secure, she'll be moved immediately to a safe house, then out of the country. You won't be able to see her before she leaves."

"I understand," Min-ji said, though the knowledge twisted painfully in her chest. "Can I at least speak to her? On the phone?"

"Briefly," Jungkook allowed. "Under secure conditions."

They lapsed into silence as the car continued its journey back to the estate. Min-ji stared out at Seoul's night skyline, wondering how many of those glittering buildings housed operations linked to her new husband's empire.

"Those people tonight," she said finally, "how dangerous are they? To me, I mean."

Jungkook considered her question. "Individually? Some very, some less so. Collectively, they represent significant power and influence. As my wife, you're protected by my reputation, but also targeted because of it."

"So I'm both safer and in more danger than I've ever been," Min-ji concluded.

"Precisely." His voice held a trace of approval at her understanding. "Which is why you need to be careful. Follow my lead. Learn the rules."

"And if I make mistakes?"

"Then I will correct you," Jungkook said simply. "Sometimes privately, sometimes publicly, depending on the transgression."

The implicit threat hung between them as the car passed through the gates of the Jeon estate. When they pulled up to the entrance, Jungkook exited first, then extended his hand to help her out.

Min-ji hesitated only briefly before placing her fingers in his. His hand closed around hers, warm and strong, as he guided her from the car.

The main house was largely dark, but soft lighting illuminated their path through the entrance hall. Min-ji expected Jungkook to release her once they were inside, but he kept her hand in his as he led her up the sweeping staircase.

"Where are we going?" she asked, though she suspected the answer.

"To our bedroom," Jungkook replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be no less demanding."

Our bedroom. Two simple words that sent a cascade of emotions through Min-ji—fear, resignation, and something else she refused to acknowledge.

They reached the end of a corridor on the second floor, where Jungkook pushed open a set of double doors to reveal a spacious master suite. Like everything else in the house, it spoke of wealth and refined taste—a massive bed with charcoal silk bedding dominated one wall, while floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of Seoul and the mountains beyond. A sitting area with leather armchairs flanked a modern fireplace, and doors led to what Min-ji presumed were closets and an en-suite bathroom.

"This is... your room," she said, still standing in the doorway.

"Our room," Jungkook corrected, shrugging out of his suit jacket and draping it over a chair. "Your things have been moved in already."

Min-ji took a tentative step inside, then another. She spotted evidence of her presence—her hairbrush on the dresser, a framed photo of her parents that had been on her bedside table in her apartment.

"I need to..." She gestured vaguely toward herself, suddenly acutely aware of the gown she wore, the makeup on her face.

"The bathroom is through there," Jungkook said, nodding toward a door on the left. "You'll find everything you need."

Min-ji retreated gratefully into the bathroom, which was larger than her entire former bedroom. Marble and glass surrounded her, gleaming under subtle lighting. A massive soaking tub stood beside a window, while a shower enclosure large enough for several people occupied another corner.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror above double sinks. The woman who looked back was still recognizably herself, yet transformed by the expensive gown, the professional makeup, the diamonds at her throat and ears. Mrs. Jeon now, not Min-ji Park, the florist.

With trembling fingers, she removed the jewelry, placing it carefully on the counter. She found makeup remover in a drawer, wiping away the mask they'd painted on her that afternoon. When her face was clean, she felt marginally more like herself.

A search through cabinets revealed nightclothes that must have been purchased for her—silk pajamas, lace-trimmed nightgowns, and—most alarmingly—lingerie that left little to the imagination. Min-ji selected the most modest option she could find, a knee-length nightgown in pale blue silk.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Jungkook was sitting in one of the armchairs, his shirt unbuttoned, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His gaze tracked her as she moved hesitantly into the room.

"Better?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Min-ji nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, thank you."

Jungkook studied her for a moment, then set down his glass and stood. "You should rest. As I said, tomorrow will be demanding."

Min-ji glanced at the bed—their bed, apparently—and swallowed hard. "And you?"

"I have matters to attend to," he replied, picking up his phone from a side table. "Business that won't wait. I'll join you later."

Relief and apprehension warred within her. "I see."

Jungkook moved toward her, stopping close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Without her heels, the height difference between them was more pronounced.

"Don't mistake my absence for reprieve, Min-ji," he said softly. "You are my wife now. In all ways. But I prefer willing participation to reluctant submission, and tonight..." His gaze traveled over her face, lingering on her lips. "Tonight, you're not ready."

Before she could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss both gentler and more controlled than the one they'd shared at their wedding. It lasted only seconds, but left Min-ji's heart racing all the same.

"Sleep well, wife," Jungkook murmured against her lips before straightening and stepping back. "Lock the door if it makes you feel safer, though it won't keep me out if I choose to enter."

With that, he retrieved his phone and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Min-ji stood frozen for several heartbeats, her fingers unconsciously touching her lips where the warmth of his still lingered. Then she moved to the door and turned the lock, knowing even as she did so that it was a futile gesture of defiance.

She was in his house, in his bed, bound to him by contract and law. A locked door wouldn't change that reality.

With a sigh that felt wrung from the depths of her soul, Min-ji crawled into the massive bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin. Despite her exhaustion, sleep seemed an impossible luxury as her mind replayed the day's events in an endless loop.

How had her life changed so completely in less than twenty-four hours? She'd woken up a florist, worried about her missing sister. She would sleep as the wife of a dangerous man, trapped in a gilded cage of her own making.

But Hae-won would be safe. Min-ji clung to that thought as she stared at the ceiling, watching shadows play across its surface. Her sacrifice would have meaning if her sister could live free.

As for her own freedom... that was the price she'd chosen to pay. The question that kept her awake, long after the house had fallen silent, was whether the cost would prove higher than she could bear.

---

Morning arrived with soft light filtering through partially drawn curtains. Min-ji blinked awake slowly, momentarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings until memory crashed down on her.

The shop. Jungkook. The contract. The wedding. Dinner with dangerous people.

Mrs. Jeon.

She sat up quickly, heart racing—and realized she was alone. The other side of the bed was undisturbed, the pillow still plump, the sheets uncreased. Jungkook had never come to bed.

Relief swept through her, followed immediately by confusion. Had something happened? Had plans changed? Or was this another power play in the complex game her life had become?

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes?" she called, pulling the sheets higher around herself.

The door opened to reveal Mrs. Kang, carrying a tray. "Good morning, Mrs. Jeon. I've brought your breakfast."

The title still felt foreign, but Min-ji nodded, watching as the older woman placed the tray on a small table by the windows.

"Thank you," she said. "I... Is Mr. Jeon available this morning?"

Mrs. Kang's expression revealed nothing. "Mr. Jeon left early for business meetings. He asked me to inform you that he'll return by noon, at which time he expects you to be ready to accompany him."

"Ready for what?" Min-ji asked, sliding from the bed.

"He didn't specify, ma'am." Mrs. Kang moved efficiently around the room, opening curtains fully to let in the morning light. "But he did leave instructions for your morning. After breakfast, you're to tour the house to familiarize yourself with the layout. At ten, the security chief will brief you on protocols. At eleven, the personal stylist will arrive to help you dress appropriately for the afternoon."

Min-ji's eyebrows rose. "My entire day is scheduled?"

"Just the morning, ma'am." Mrs. Kang paused by the door. "Mr. Jeon also asked me to give you this." She placed a small black phone on the bedside table. "It's programmed with necessary contacts, including a direct line to Mr. Jeon. The device is secured and monitored."

Of course it was. Min-ji fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Thank you, Mrs. Kang."

The housekeeper bowed slightly. "I'll return in thirty minutes to begin your tour of the property."

After Mrs. Kang left, Min-ji approached the breakfast tray with cautious interest. Despite the chaos of her emotions, her stomach growled at the sight of fresh fruit, pastries, and what smelled like perfectly brewed coffee. She sat and ate mechanically, her mind elsewhere.

The phone on the bedside table seemed to watch her, a reminder of her new reality—connected yet controlled, given freedom only within defined parameters. She picked it up, examining it. Top-of-the-line, of course, with a sleek black case. When she turned it on, it unlocked without requiring a password, revealing a home screen with only basic apps—phone, messages, calendar, and a custom app labeled "Security."

She opened the contacts to find fewer than a dozen entries: Jungkook, Mrs. Kang, Security, Medical, Driver, Stylist... the essential personnel of her new life, apparently. No personal contacts. No connection to her old world.

Min-ji set the phone down with a sigh and finished her breakfast, then showered and dressed in clothes she found in what was apparently now her closet—designer pieces in her size that she'd never seen before, tags still attached to most items. She selected the simplest outfit she could find: black trousers and a cream silk blouse.

Mrs. Kang returned exactly thirty minutes after she'd left, and the morning proceeded according to Jungkook's schedule. The house tour revealed a property even larger than Min-ji had imagined—three floors plus a basement level, multiple wings, a separate building housing gym and indoor pool facilities, gardens that stretched for acres, all enclosed within imposing security walls.

The security briefing was equally overwhelming. A stern-faced man named Director Choi outlined protocols that would govern her movements—where she could go, when, and with whom. The estate grounds were monitored by cameras and motion sensors. Bodyguards would accompany her whenever she left the property. All visitors would be screened. All communications monitored.