The grand ballroom was buzzing with applause and hushed murmurs as the marriage announcement concluded. Miso felt Taehyung’s hand lingering on her back, the weight of his touch a stark reminder of their new bond. But as the crowd began to disperse, he guided her to a quieter corner, away from the sea of scrutinizing eyes.

She found herself next to him, painfully aware of the way her eyes only reached his lips, even with the extra inches her heels provided. And what lips they were—sculpted, firm, and with a hint of mocking amusement that made her heart twist. She swallowed, unable to ignore the way Taehyung's dark gaze traced over her, calm and calculating, as though he were assessing her every move.

Divine was the only word that came to mind as she took in his features. His high cheekbones cast shadows over the sharp angles of his jaw, a jaw that was currently clenched, muscles flexing with a tension that betrayed an otherwise composed expression. His skin was smooth, an almost unnatural flawlessness, and under the ballroom lights, it seemed to glow with an ethereal quality. The deep darkness of his eyes was unsettling, like staring into an endless abyss, holding secrets she feared and didn’t want to uncover.

Miso’s heart quickened when Taehyung’s hand reached inside his tuxedo jacket, and for a ridiculous, fleeting moment, a wild thought entered her mind—was he going to pull out a weapon? But her fears were unfounded as he withdrew a small, black box instead. His face remained impassive as he turned toward her, and Miso found herself staring at the immaculate black shirt, black tie, and the tuxedo that fit him perfectly—black like the depths of his soul, she thought bitterly.

This was the moment millions of women dreamed of, but the coldness around her heart grew. He opened the box, revealing a ring—a stunning white platinum band with a large, glittering diamond in the center, flanked by two slightly smaller diamonds. The diamonds were flawless, cut to perfection, catching the light and refracting it in shimmering patterns that danced across her face. It was beautiful, extravagant, everything a woman could want in an engagement ring, yet it felt suffocating, a silent declaration of ownership.

Miso didn’t move, her breath caught in her throat. The seconds stretched, an awkward silence hanging between them. Finally, Taehyung extended his hand, a silent command that made her cheeks flush. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his, and a shiver shot through her at the warmth of his touch. His skin brushed hers, deliberate and unyielding, as he slipped the ring onto her finger, the cool metal settling with a weight that felt both foreign and final. He released her hand, his face unreadable, though his eyes held a flicker of something darker, almost resentful.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice small, the words feeling hollow. She dared to glance up, meeting his eyes, which burned with a restrained anger she couldn’t decipher. Had she offended him somehow?

Without a word, Taehyung held out his arm, and she looped hers through it, letting him lead her out of the lounge toward the dining room. The silence between them was suffocating, tension radiating from him, making her wonder if he already regretted this engagement. But if he did, he wouldn’t have placed the ring on her finger, right?

The dining room was filled with guests, and she quickly noted the absence of any women among the Kims, a telling sign of the distrust between their families. Taehyung dropped his arm from hers, and she gratefully joined her mother and sisters, who pretended to admire the ring with forced smiles. Mo-eum, her sister, shot her a look that spoke volumes, biting back what Miso could only imagine was a sarcastic remark. Whatever threat their mother had used to silence her had clearly been effective.

Dinner passed in a blur. The men discussed business in low, gruff voices while the women stayed silent, playing their roles as expected. Miso’s gaze kept drifting to the ring on her finger, its weight a constant reminder of the commitment she’d just entered. It felt tight, restrictive, as if it was binding her to Taehyung in more ways than she could fathom.

As the meal continued, Miso’s mind drifted, realizing with a sinking feeling that this was her life now—a life bound to a man she barely knew, a man who held both power and a darkness she couldn’t ignore. And tonight, with that ring on her finger, Taehyung had marked her as his possession.

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In the dimly lit room, Taehyung sat back on a velvet armchair, his posture regal, eyes narrowed as he nursed a glass of bourbon. Across from him, Beomgyu leaned casually against the bar, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he swirled his drink. The party had been nothing short of extravagant—a marriage announcement that felt more like a declaration of war than a celebration. But now, in the aftermath, the air was thick with unspoken tension.

"It could have been worse," Beomgyu said, breaking the silence with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "She could have been ugly. But, holy fuck… that body. That hair and face." He let out a low whistle, clearly baiting Taehyung, pushing the boundaries just enough to be dangerous.

Taehyung’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he stared into his glass. "She’s my wife," he said with a quiet, deadly authority, each word like a loaded gun.

Beomgyu chuckled, feigning innocence as he raised a brow. "She isn't your wife yet, my cousin," he replied smoothly, then clucked his tongue in mock disappointment. He nudged the older man beside him, So-Mun, with a mischievous grin. "What do you say? Is Taehyung blind, or just stubborn?"

So-Mun shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to Taehyung with a hint of caution. "I didn’t look at her closely," he muttered, carefully skirting the line of loyalty and self-preservation.

Beomgyu’s grin widened, and he turned his gaze toward Luca, who was sitting quietly with a drink in his hand. "What about you, Luca? You got functioning eyes in that head of yours?"

Luca glanced up, met Taehyung’s intense stare for a heartbeat, then quickly looked back down to his glass, his silence speaking louder than any words.

The tension in the room thickened as Beomgyu threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich with amusement. "Fuck, Taehyung, did you tell your men you’d cut their dicks off if they so much as looked at that girl? You’re not even married to her yet."

Taehyung’s lips twisted into a cold smile. "She’s mine," his tone chilling.

"For the next two months, you’ll be in New York, and she’ll be here," Beomgyu continued, leaning forward with a glint of challenge in his eyes. "You can’t always keep an eye on her, or do you plan to threaten every man in Moscow? You can’t cut off all their dicks. Maybe Scuderi knows a few eunuchs who can keep watch over her."

Taehyung didn’t rise to the bait, though his grip on his glass tightened. "I’ll do what I have to," he said simply, swirling the dark liquid as if it held all his thoughts. His gaze flicked to Luca. "Find the two idiots who are supposed to guard Miso."

Luca inclined his head and left the room without a word. He returned ten minutes later, bringing in Yoongi and Dante. Yoongi’s expression was a mask of irritation, his eyes flashing with barely restrained anger, while Dante looked hurt, almost offended at being summoned by someone from New York like a dog. But right behind them was Miso’s father, a formidable presence in his own right, his gaze sharp as he took in the scene.

"What’s the meaning of this?" Miso’s father demanded, his tone laced with authority.

Taehyung didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as he addressed him. "I want to have a word with the men you chose to protect what’s mine."

Miso’s father raised an eyebrow, his lips thinning as he measured Taehyung’s intent. "They are good soldiers, both of them. Yoongi is Miso’s cousin, and Dante has worked for me for two decades."

Taehyung’s jaw tightened. "I’d like to decide for myself if I trust them." He held his gaze, a silent challenge passing between them.

After a tense pause, Miso’s father gave a curt nod, his jaw clenched in reluctant approval. He stayed in the room, his sharp gaze watching every move. Taehyung stepped up to Yoongi, meeting his steely eyes.

"I hear you’re good with a knife," Taehyung said, his voice low but piercing.

"The best," Miso’s father interjected, a hint of pride in his tone.

A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw ticked, his gaze never leaving Yoongi’s face. Yoongi held his ground, his expression unreadable. "Not as good as you, as rumor has it," he said, inclining his head in a mocking way toward Taehyung. "But better than any other man in our territory." He finally admitted, his voice even and calm.

Taehyung’s lips curled into a faint, predatory grin, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "Good to know."

He then turned to Dante, assessing the older man with a hard gaze. "Are you married?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Dante nodded, his expression wary. "For twenty-one years."

Beomgyu chimed in, his tone laced with mock curiosity. "That’s a long time. How can we be sure you’ll keep yourself in check around Miso?"

Dante's expression turned steely, his voice firm. "I’ve known Miso since her birth. She’s like a child to me."

Beomgyu smirked, arching an eyebrow. "But would that change if she fancy you over your old wife?"

Dante's gaze hardened, his loyalty apparent as he glared at Beomgyu, his tone unwavering. "She will always be a child in my eyes. And I am faithful to my wife."

Taehyung watched the exchange, his arms crossed over his chest. After a long pause, he gave a slow, approving nod. "I think you’re a good choice, Dante. But Luca and So-Mun will be taking over her protection."

Dante stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back, his gaze never leaving Beomgyu, who merely shrugged, ignoring the older man’s silent protest. With So-Mun and Luca assigned as Miso’s new bodyguards, Taehyung had made his stance clear: he trusted few, and those few would answer directly to him.

Without another word, Taehyung gestured to one of the nearby maids. "Bring Miso here," he commanded, his voice a mix of impatience and authority.

The maid nodded, hurrying off to carry out his orders. As they waited, the room was steeped in a tension that only deepened with each passing second. Taehyung’s gaze was fixed on the door, his jaw clenched as he anticipated her arrival. Beomgyu smirked, leaning back with an air of amusement, enjoying the drama unfolding before him.

"Think  she can survive your wrath, when she finds out you’re this possessive?" Beomgyu asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

Taehyung didn’t answer, his gaze unwavering. He had made a choice, and no one—least of all Beomgyu—would challenge his resolve. For better or worse, Miso was his, and he’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

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The party had ended, leaving only a trail of faint music and empty champagne flutes in its wake. Miso was escorted down the hall to a secluded wing of the estate, her heels clicking against the marble floors as her mind whirled with the night’s events. She had played her part, standing quietly beside Taehyung in the limelight, but the tension between them was undeniable, thickening with each moment he laid his possessive hand on her.

As she approached the door to the meeting room, a cold knot formed in her stomach. She knew this meeting was about something grave— something that would displeased her.

The door opened, revealing Taehyung, her father, Beomgyu, Yoongi, Dante and two more men, already waiting inside. Her gaze landed on Taehyung first, who stood with a rigid posture, his dark eyes calculating and unreadable. Her father’s expression was stern, as always, while Yoongi stood quietly to the side, a silent shadow yet a presence of unwavering support.

Taehyung’s gaze sharpened as she stepped in, and without wasting a moment, he spoke. “From this point forward, security around Min Manor will be heightened,” he announced, his tone final. “Luca and So-Mun will be your personal bodyguards, effective immediately.”

The words hit her with a cold, unwelcome weight. Strangers—she was being assigned strangers to follow her every move. Her expression hardened as she met his gaze. “No,” she said firmly, her voice echoing slightly in the vast room. “I’m not okay with that. I don’t want to be around strangers. I’m not comfortable with them.”

A flicker of impatience crossed Taehyung’s face. “This isn’t about your comfort, Miso. It’s about your security. You’re my fiancée now, and you’ll be protected whether you want it or not.” His gaze was unyielding, a silent dare for her to challenge him.

“How could you possibly trust them with me?” she countered, her voice tight. She could feel her father’s watchful eyes on her, but she kept her gaze locked with Taehyung’s, refusing to back down. “What’s to stop them from betraying that trust?”

A slight smirk played at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, though his eyes held a dangerous edge. “They’re my most trusted men, Miso. And they know the consequences of crossing me,” he said, his tone laced with a warning that left no room for misinterpretation.

Before she could respond, Yoongi stepped forward, his face as stoic as ever. “I’ll be her bodyguard,” he said, his voice calm yet firm. “I know her, and I’ve been protecting her all her life. I don’t think there’s anyone better suited for the role.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched, clearly not pleased with the proposition. “My decision stands, Yoongi,” he said coldly. “I need someone who understands the full weight of what this arrangement means. Luca and So-Mun have been in my service for years.”

Miso’s father finally spoke up, his voice calm but authoritative. “Yoongi is family, Taehyung. He’s her cousin and one of our best men. There’s no one I trust more with my daughter’s life.”

Taehyung’s gaze flicked to Miso’s father, clearly measuring his words. There was a tense silence, the kind that felt like a battle of wills between giants. He looked back at Miso, eyes narrowed, but before he could dismiss the suggestion, Miso spoke up, her voice defiant.

“Yoongi has protected me all my life,” she said fiercely. “He’s loyal, trustworthy, and he’d never put me in danger. If you can trust your men, then I can trust mine.”

The fire in her voice was unmistakable, and Taehyung’s expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to keep his composure. The way she defended Yoongi, the loyalty she displayed for her cousin—it ignited something cold and possessive within him, a flicker of possession that simmered beneath the surface.

After a long moment, he forced himself to nod, though his eyes remained fixed on her with a silent intensity. “Fine,” he said at last, voice low, barely above a growl. “Yoongi can be your bodyguard, But Luca will be also your bodyguard also I’ll be watching.” His gaze turned hard, a subtle warning glinting in his eyes. “And if I see even the slightest slip-up, anything out of line… then you’d better brace yourself for the consequences.”

His words lingered, a chilling promise that sent a shiver down Miso’s spine. But she stood her ground, meeting his stare without flinching. She wouldn’t back down, not when it came to her trust in Yoongi. Taehyung’s threats might have sent others cowering, but she refused to show fear. Not now, not ever.

The tension between them was almost tangible, filling the room like a storm waiting to break.

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Author’s Note:

Whew! That was intense, wasn’t it? 😅 Taehyung’s possessiveness, Miso’s defiance, and Yoongi stepping up like the ultimate bodyguard—talk about a rollercoaster! 🎢 I mean, who wouldn’t want Yoongi as their personal protector, right? But Taehyung’s lurking like, “Two bodyguards? Let’s make it three, just in case.” 😂

Thank you all for sticking with me through this stormy chapter! Your votes and comments are like the espresso shots I need to keep writing—seriously, you keep this story alive and kicking! ☕💖 So don’t be shy, drop your thoughts below, and let’s keep the drama rolling. See you in the next chapter, where things get even juicier! 👀

Stay safe, stay fabulous, and don’t forget to vote and comment! Your support means the world! 🌍✨

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