⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The car ride back was heavy with unspoken tension, their breaths still uneven from the mission's intensity. Beomgyu leaned his head against the window, staring at the city lights flashing past. He clutched the stolen files, his mind spinning from the high-stakes operation. They'd done it—pulled off an infiltration against one of the most dangerous mafias in Seoul. But it was Yeonjun's words that lingered, looping in his mind like a broken record.

"You've got potential."

He wasn't sure why it mattered so much.

Next to him, Yeonjun exuded calm. His movements were fluid as he removed his gloves and checked his weapons, as if it was just another day at work. Yet, every so often, Beomgyu felt Yeonjun's eyes on him, a quiet intensity that sent shivers down his spine.

"So," Yeonjun finally broke the silence, his voice casual, "what now? Are we going to keep pretending like we don't make a good team?"

Beomgyu scoffed, turning to face him. "You mean pretending like I wasn't the one who cracked the vault and got us out of there alive?"

Yeonjun smirked. "Oh, you're cute when you're cocky."

Beomgyu flushed, gripping the files tighter. "I'm serious. Don't think for a second I need you."

Yeonjun leaned closer, his grin widening. "You might not need me, Gyu, but admit it—you like having me around."

The heat in Beomgyu's chest spread to his face, but he quickly turned away, refusing to give Yeonjun the satisfaction of a response.

Back at the estate, the two were immediately ushered into a meeting with their families. Beomgyu handed over the files, keeping his expression neutral as his father flipped through the pages.

"Well done," Mr. Choi said, his voice clipped but approving. "You've proved that the alliance has potential."

Beomgyu nodded, though his father's praise felt hollow.

"And you," Mr. Choi said, his gaze shifting to Yeonjun, "your precision was... commendable. Perhaps this partnership will work better than I anticipated."

Yeonjun's lips curled into a smug smile. "I aim to please."

Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

Once dismissed, they retreated to their shared quarters—a lavish suite prepared for them as part of the wedding preparations. Beomgyu slumped onto the couch, exhaustion finally catching up with him.

Yeonjun leaned against the doorway, watching him with a curious expression. "You're not used to someone seeing you, are you?"

Beomgyu looked up, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You're always trying to prove something," Yeonjun said, stepping closer. "To your family. To yourself. Even to me."

Beomgyu stiffened, his defenses rising. "You don't know anything about me."

Yeonjun tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe not yet. But I know you're not as heartless as you want people to think."

Beomgyu glared at him, but he couldn't shake the truth in Yeonjun's words.

Before he could respond, Yeonjun's tone shifted, lighter but still teasing. "By the way, about that wedding kiss—should we rehearse it again? Just to make sure it's convincing."

Beomgyu grabbed a cushion and hurled it at Yeonjun, who dodged effortlessly, laughing as he disappeared into the adjoining room.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The next morning brought another flurry of activity as wedding preparations reached their peak. The ceremony was to take place in the grand hall of Beomgyu's estate, with hundreds of guests from across the mafia underworld expected to attend.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun found themselves swept up in fittings, photo sessions, and endless instructions on how to present themselves as the perfect couple.

At one point, Beomgyu caught Yeonjun staring at him again, his eyes softening in a way that made Beomgyu's chest tighten.

"What?" Beomgyu snapped, trying to mask his unease.

Yeonjun's smirk returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am to marry the mafia's golden boy."

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, but his heart betrayed him, skipping a beat at Yeonjun's words.

As the day wore on, the weight of what they were about to do settled heavily on Beomgyu's shoulders. The mission had been a distraction, but now there was no avoiding the reality of their situation.

Tomorrow, they would stand before their families, their allies, and their enemies, and promise to be each other's for life.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The day of the wedding arrived with a mixture of grandeur and tension. The Choi estate had been transformed into an opulent display of wealth and power, adorned with towering floral arrangements, shimmering chandeliers, and an endless sea of silk and lace. The guest list was a who's who of the mafia world, each person eager to witness the alliance of two of Seoul's most feared families.

Beomgyu stood in front of the mirror in his suite, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo accented with gold embroidery. His fingers fidgeted with his cuffs as he stared at his reflection, his stomach twisting in knots.

"You're not running, are you?"

Yeonjun's voice startled him. Beomgyu turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, his own tuxedo fitting him like a second skin. The subtle smirk on his face was infuriatingly casual for someone about to enter a marriage arranged for political gain.

"Why would I run?" Beomgyu shot back, though his tone lacked its usual edge.

Yeonjun shrugged, stepping into the room. "You look like you're ready to bolt. Not that I'd blame you. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous marrying me?"

Beomgyu rolled his eyes but didn't respond. Yeonjun walked closer, his gaze softening as he adjusted Beomgyu's bowtie.

"Relax," Yeonjun murmured, his voice unexpectedly gentle. "We've got this. Just smile, say the vows, and let everyone believe we're madly in love."

Beomgyu swallowed hard, nodding.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The ceremony took place in the grand hall, the air thick with anticipation. Beomgyu entered first, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor. His father's proud yet stern gaze bore into him as he made his way to the altar.

Then came Yeonjun, walking down the aisle with an ease that made Beomgyu's chest tighten. He looked infuriatingly perfect, his sharp features softened by the candlelight, his confident stride exuding control.

When they stood side by side at the altar, the officiant began the ritualistic vows that had been meticulously prepared for them.

"Do you, Choi Beomgyu, swear to protect and honor this alliance, to stand by Choi Yeonjun as your equal, and to uphold the legacy of your family?"

Beomgyu hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "I do."

The officiant turned to Yeonjun. "And do you, Choi Yeonjun, swear to protect and honor this alliance, to stand by Choi Beomgyu as your equal, and to uphold the legacy of your family?"

Yeonjun smiled, his voice steady. "I do."

The tension in the room reached its peak as the officiant declared, "You may now seal this union."

Beomgyu barely had time to steel himself before Yeonjun turned to him, his hands sliding to Beomgyu's waist. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them blurred.

Then Yeonjun leaned in, capturing Beomgyu's lips in a kiss that was more intense than either of them had expected. It wasn't the soft, rehearsed kiss they had practiced. It was firm, commanding, and far too real. Beomgyu's knees nearly buckled as he clung to Yeonjun's arms, his breath catching in his throat.

The crowd erupted into applause, but Beomgyu barely heard it over the sound of his racing heart. When Yeonjun finally pulled back, his smirk was back in place, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something Beomgyu couldn't quite decipher.

"Perfectly convincing," Yeonjun murmured, his voice low enough for only Beomgyu to hear.

Beomgyu glared at him, though his cheeks burned.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The reception was a blur of toasts, speeches, and forced smiles. Beomgyu and Yeonjun played their parts flawlessly, their hands brushing, their gazes lingering just long enough to sell the illusion. But beneath the surface, Beomgyu's mind raced.

What had that kiss meant?

And why couldn't he stop thinking about it?

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧