I was still reeling from the fitting, the soft weight of the engagement gown clinging to me like a shroud. The seamstresses had finally left, whispering excitedly about the upcoming wedding, their voices buzzing in my head long after the door closed behind them. The dress they left behind — black silk with a wide, dramatic white bow trailing behind it like a shadow — lay draped across my bed. The image of me wearing it at the party had sent a wave of cold panic through me.

I couldn’t think of anything else but running. Yoongi’s plan was the only thing keeping me from breaking down completely. Tomorrow was supposed to be the day — my one chance at escaping the life I was being forced into. Yet, every second felt like a ticking bomb, reminding me that time was slipping away, and so were my chances of freedom.

I pressed my palms against the cool marble railing outside the hallway, trying to calm my racing thoughts. But just as I was about to retreat to my room, the grand doors of the mansion creaked open.

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

My heart stilled.

A tall figure stepped into the entryway. His black trench coat caught the light, and with it came a suffocating presence that filled the entire space. His steps were measured, deliberate, and heavy with authority. I knew immediately who he was, even before anyone had to say it.

Kim Taehyung.

The son of the Capo dei Capi of New York.

I swallowed, the air catching in my throat. I’ve never met him before, I reminded myself, my mind racing through everything I’d been told about him. The rumors. The warnings.

But nothing could have prepared me for seeing him in the flesh.

He stopped in the center of the hall, his dark eyes scanning the space like a predator surveying its prey. Then, without warning, his gaze landed on me.

My breath hitched.

His eyes were sharp—so sharp that it felt like they cut straight through me. Dark brown, almost black, with an intensity that held me in place, frozen under his scrutiny. There was nothing warm about him, nothing soft. His face was a mask, unreadable, and yet I felt the coldness radiating from him. The air between us was charged, crackling with something I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t just his power—it was the way he carried it, like he knew exactly how to use it, how to manipulate everyone around him.

I forced myself to stand straight, trying to keep my expression neutral, though my heart was racing. Don’t show him your fear. Don’t let him see it.

But I knew he could. He could see everything.

He didn’t say a word, just stood there, his eyes boring into mine. For a moment, I felt completely exposed, like he could see every secret I was hiding, every plan I had to escape this life, to escape him. My stomach twisted, nausea creeping up my throat.

Why was he here?

I had imagined this meeting so many times—always dreading it, always wondering what he would be like. Now, standing before him, all I could think was I need to get out of here.

Suddenly, he shifted his gaze away from me as if I had ceased to exist, and turned on his heel. His polished shoes echoed against the marble floor as he walked towards my father’s office without a second glance.

The silence that followed was suffocating. I felt like I could finally breathe, but the relief was short-lived. I clutched the railing tighter, my knuckles turning white. My hands were trembling.

That was Kim Taehyung. The man I was being forced to marry. The man who could ruin me with a single look, a single command.

His charm—what little of it I had seen—was nothing more than a mask. I could see it now. Beneath the surface, there was something cold, something terrifying. He wasn’t just a dangerous man. He was ruthless, calculating, and worst of all, indifferent. I had heard enough about men like him—men who thrived on power, on fear—but seeing it in person was different. It was worse.

My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. The desperation clawed at me even more now. I had to get out. I had to run. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

The image of his piercing gaze haunted me. I couldn’t shake it. Every time I closed my eyes, it was there, reminding me of what waited if I didn’t get away.

I couldn’t be trapped in a marriage with someone like him. I wouldn’t survive it.

And as I stood there, shaking, I realized something else—my father knew exactly who he was marrying me off to. He wasn’t blind to Taehyung’s nature. He was counting on it. And that betrayal stung more than anything. He wasn’t just marrying me for power. He was handing me over to a man who could destroy me.

I couldn’t stay here. Not with my father. Not with Taehyung.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly. No more tears. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone.

I turned toward the stairs, toward the room where my dress lay waiting. It felt like a coffin.

And I knew, if I didn’t run, that’s exactly what my marriage would become.

________________________

I had barely made it halfway up the stairs when I heard her voice.

"Miso, come here."

I froze, my hand still clutching the banister. My mother’s voice wasn’t cold or stern—it never was—but there was a weight to it that immediately made my heart race. Slowly, I turned to see her standing in the doorway of her study, her posture calm, but her gaze unyielding. Georgia Min, my mother, always carried herself with an elegance that masked the sharpness underneath. She was beautiful, poised, but she had spent her entire life navigating the dangerous waters of our world.

She motioned for me to follow her inside.

I hesitated, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the safety of my room. But there was no avoiding her, especially not now. After the interaction with Taehyung, every part of me felt frayed, like I was barely holding myself together. The last thing I needed was another conversation reminding me of the trap I was in.

I followed her into the study, the scent of roses and polished wood filling the space. She closed the door softly behind me, and I felt the tension in the air shift.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to the plush chair opposite her desk. I did as I was told, watching as she moved gracefully behind the desk, taking a seat herself. For a moment, she simply regarded me, her eyes flicking over my face, reading the tension, the uncertainty.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her tone deceptively gentle.

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Fine," I lied, my voice too quick, too brittle.

Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "You're a terrible liar, Miso."

I didn’t say anything, just looked down at my hands, twisting them in my lap. The image of Taehyung’s cold gaze was still fresh in my mind, and I could feel the fear creeping up again, making it hard to breathe.

Mother leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk. "I saw him arrive," she said quietly, her voice softer now. "Taehyung."

The name sent a chill down my spine. I nodded, still unable to meet her eyes.

"You’re scared," she said, and it wasn’t a question.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to find the words, but they felt stuck in my throat. Of course I was scared. I was terrified. But what could I say that she didn’t already know?

"He’s not what you expected, is he?" Mother continued, watching me closely. "All the stories, all the rumors… they don’t quite prepare you for the real thing."

I swallowed hard, finally meeting her gaze. "He’s… cold."

Her eyes softened, but there was something behind them—something dark, something I hadn’t seen before. "He’s more than cold, Miso. He’s dangerous."

My heart skipped a beat. The word dangerous felt like an understatement after what I had just experienced. Taehyung wasn’t just dangerous—he was calculating, detached, like he was constantly assessing everyone around him as pieces on a board.

"I can’t do this," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I can’t marry him."

For a long moment, my mother said nothing. Her expression didn’t change, but the silence was heavy, full of unspoken truths. Then, she leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap.

"I understand why you feel that way," she said softly. "But, Miso, you need to understand something about this life, our life."

I looked at her, waiting, my chest tight with dread.

"You don’t get to choose. None of us do," she said, her voice laced with something that sounded like regret. "Your father didn’t choose me, and I didn’t choose him. But we survived. That’s what this world is about—survival."

Her words hit me like a slap. I had always known that my parents’ marriage wasn’t built on love, but hearing her admit it so plainly felt like a blow. My mind raced, trying to process everything.

"Taehyung…" I started, my voice barely above a whisper. "He’s… he’s not someone I can—"

"Taehyung is not someone you can run from," she cut me off, her voice sharper now. "He’s the son of the most powerful man in New York, and soon, he will be that man. If you think you can escape him, you’re wrong."

My stomach churned. The panic that had been simmering inside me was beginning to boil over.

"You don’t know what he’s capable of," she added, her tone taking on a darker edge. "And if you try to cross him, if you make him your enemy, Miso, you won’t survive."

Her words settled in the room like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. I felt like the air was being sucked out of my lungs.

"So what are you saying?" I asked, my voice shaking. "That I should just… accept this? Accept him?"

Mother’s eyes softened again, but the warning remained. "I’m saying that you need to be careful. Whatever plans you’re considering—don’t be reckless. Taehyung is not someone who forgives easily. And if you try to escape him, if you try to embarrass him or your father in the process… the consequences will be worse than you can imagine."

I felt the tears burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I didn’t want her to see how terrified I was, how broken I felt.

"You don’t have to like him," she said, her voice gentle now. "But you do have to survive him."

The room was spinning. I had come into this conversation hoping for some kind of comfort, some reassurance that I could still get out of this, but all I got were warnings—warnings that made me feel even more trapped than before.

My mother stood and walked around the desk, coming to kneel in front of me. She placed her hands on mine, her touch soft but firm. "I love you, Miso," she whispered. "But in this world, love doesn’t protect us. Strength does. And you will need to be strong."

I stared at her, my heart aching with the weight of her words. Part of me wanted to scream, to tell her that I didn’t want to be strong, that I just wanted to be free. But the other part of me—the part that had grown up in this world, the part that understood the rules—knew she was right.

"Be careful," she whispered one last time, her eyes locking with mine. "Be very careful."

And with that, she rose and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my fear, and the crushing realization that running might not be an option after all.

The walls of the mansion felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me, trapping me in a future I couldn’t escape.

I wasn’t sure what was worse—the fear of marrying Taehyung, or the fear of what would happen if I tried to run.

________________________

Dear Readers,

THANK YOU for picking up BENEATH HIS DESIRE. I hope you love and enjoy it as much as I did while writing it.

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Love,
lavendermiso <333