The dim warehouse was silent except for the occasional drip of water from the ceiling, the steady rhythm adding to the oppressive atmosphere. The smell of damp concrete mixed with the pungent stench of blood hung thick in the air, suffocating. The man bound to the chair in the center of the room gasped for breath, his face swollen and bruised, his once-pristine white shirt now stained red. His body trembled, his spirit crushed under the weight of his impending doom.

Kim Taehyung stood a few feet away, observing the scene with detached coldness. He wore a tailored black suit, crisp and immaculate, his presence exuding power and dominance. His face, as perfect as it was unforgiving, remained unreadable. His eyes, dark and piercing, bore into the traitor with merciless intensity, as if daring him to speak. He didn't need to say a word; his very presence instilled fear.

Next to him stood Yin and Yang, his two most trusted men, loyal to a fault and feared throughout the underworld. Yin, the quieter of the two, held a thin, gleaming blade, the tip catching the faint light from the single bulb swinging above. Yang, bulkier and more brutal, cradled a pair of pliers in one hand, his gaze never leaving the shaking man in the chair.

Taehyung took a step forward, his polished shoes clicking softly against the concrete floor. His approach was slow, deliberate, each step echoing through the vast, empty space of the warehouse. When he finally crouched in front of the traitor, he tilted his head slightly, as if studying him like a specimen.

"Do you know what happens to men like you?" Taehyung's voice was smooth, calm, and devoid of any warmth. It was a voice that commanded attention, that demanded submission. "Men who betray me?"

The traitor whimpered, his lips quivering as he tried to form a response, but the pain had stolen his voice. His eyes darted between Taehyung and the two men flanking him, panic setting in as he realized there was no escape, no hope for mercy.

Without breaking his gaze, Taehyung rose to his full height, towering over the broken man. His hand moved lazily, a signal to Yin and Yang, who wordlessly stepped forward to carry out their duties. Yin moved with the precision of a surgeon, tracing the blade along the man's trembling hand, his touch almost gentle. The traitor flinched, but it was too late-the cold steel bit into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood that dripped down onto the floor.

The traitor's scream tore through the silence, raw and desperate. Taehyung didn't even flinch. His back now turned to the scene, he walked to the far end of the room, hands clasped behind his back, staring into the shadows.

"I trusted you," Taehyung said, his voice carrying through the room, soft yet menacing. "You worked for me. You ate at my table. And this is how you repay me?"

Yin's blade worked with meticulous care, slicing skin and muscle with a frightening level of precision. Yang, ever the brute, gripped the traitor's wrist, forcing his hand flat against the chair's armrest. The traitor convulsed, tears streaming down his face, but Yang's grip was iron.

Taehyung's eyes darkened as he continued, his voice colder than the chill in the warehouse. "Loyalty is everything in my world. Without it, you are nothing."

The traitor's cries grew weaker, his strength failing him as blood pooled around the chair. Taehyung turned to face him again, his expression impassive, as though the suffering before him was little more than an inconvenience.

Yang, sensing his boss's attention, raised the pliers. He glanced at Taehyung, waiting for permission. A subtle nod from Taehyung was all it took. Yang wrenched one of the traitor's fingers between the jaws of the pliers and squeezed. The snap of bone echoed through the room, followed by the traitor's agonized scream.

Taehyung walked forward, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. He crouched once more, leaning in close enough for the traitor to see the monster lurking behind his calm demeanor.

"You will die today," Taehyung whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a caress. "But not before you beg for it."

The traitor's sobs were choked, his voice hoarse from screaming. Taehyung stood, signaling Yin and Yang to continue. They obeyed without question, their hands skilled in the art of extracting pain.

As they resumed their grim task, Taehyung turned his back once more, his eyes lost in thought. He had no time for traitors, no patience for weakness. In his world, power and loyalty were all that mattered. And he ruled with both-mercilessly.

"This is what happens," he said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "To those who think they can cross me."

Taehyung stood in the center of the room, surveying the scene as Yin and Yang finished their work. The traitor's whimpers had faded to faint gasps, barely audible above the dripping sound of water and blood. Taehyung's expression remained emotionless, cold, as if the violence around him were nothing more than an inconvenience. His eyes finally moved to his two loyal men.

"Dispose him," Taehyung said quietly, his voice cutting through the room with an edge of finality. "Make sure the message is clear. No one betrays me and walks away."

Yin nodded, his face stoic as always. Yang was already wiping his hands on a rag, his movements methodical and precise, as if the brutality of the act hadn't phased him. These men were Taehyung's shadows, extensions of his will. They lived for his command, and in return, Taehyung offered them the same loyalty they gave him.

Just as Taehyung turned to leave, the warehouse door creaked open, and another one of his men hurried in, his face tense with urgency. He bowed quickly, eyes low, as he approached Taehyung.

"Boss," the man said, his voice trembling slightly under the weight of the news. "Your father-he's asking for you. He wants to meet at the family home. Immediately."

The air in the room shifted. Taehyung's expression hardened, his jaw clenching in barely concealed anger. He took a deep breath, his fists curling at his sides. The mere mention of his father made the blood boil under his skin. Kim Taemoo was not a man who requested; he demanded. And it enraged Taehyung to no end that, despite all his power, he was still subject to his father's will.

He turned sharply on his heel, his temper flaring. "Why now?" he hissed under his breath, his voice a low growl as he cursed. "I don't have time for this."

Yin and Yang remained silent, knowing better than to intervene when Taehyung's mood darkened. His father's presence was the one thing that could unsettle the otherwise unshakable mafia king.

Taehyung's mind raced, frustration gnawing at him. He didn't want to go, didn't want to subject himself to the overbearing control of Kim Taemoo, but he knew he had no choice. No matter how much power he had built for himself, no matter how ruthless he was in his empire, he was still the son. And in their world, that meant something. Family, above all, was an unbreakable chain-even when it choked the life out of you.

With a final look at the traitor, who was now a bloodied husk of a man, Taehyung strode toward the door. His anger simmered beneath the surface, barely contained, but he masked it with cold indifference. He paused for a moment, casting a glance over his shoulder at Yin and Yang.

"Finish here," he ordered, his voice tight with restrained fury. "I'll deal with my father."

Yin bowed slightly. "Yes, boss."

Taehyung left the warehouse, his mind swirling with a thousand curses aimed at his father. He hated that he had to answer to him. Hated that, despite all he had built, the one man he couldn't defy was the very man who had made him what he was. But what choice did he have? Taemoo was his father, and in this world, that meant Taehyung had to listen-whether he liked it or not.

_______________________________________

At Kim Mansion

Taehyung's sleek black car roared down the narrow streets, its engine growling like a beast in the night. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. The neon lights of the city blurred past, but his mind was far from the bustling streets of Seoul. It was back at his father's estate-Kim Taemoo's domain.

He didn't even want to go. He despised the way his father summoned him like a puppet on a string. The rage from the warehouse still simmered beneath his skin, but now it was directed at something far more personal-his father's constant interference.

As the gates of the Kim family mansion loomed into view, Taehyung slowed, pulling up to the grand, looming estate that had been the center of his family's empire for generations. The mansion, an architectural masterpiece, stood as a monument to their power. Taehyung, however, saw it for what it truly was-his father's cage.

The moment he stepped out of the car, the weight of expectation pressed down on him like an iron shackle. The guards at the entrance bowed their heads, offering respectful nods, but Taehyung barely acknowledged them. His steps were purposeful, brisk, as he entered the grand foyer.

Inside, the house was as cold and unwelcoming as always. The marble floors gleamed, and the chandeliers above sparkled, but none of it mattered to Taehyung. It was all a facade. A prison disguised as luxury. He was ushered into his father's private study-a room that reeked of dominance, power, and tradition.

Kim Taemoo sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his face as hard as the stone walls that surrounded him. He was an older man, but his presence was no less imposing. His sharp eyes, the same dark brown as Taehyung's, gleamed with a mixture of disappointment and fury. A glass of whiskey sat untouched beside him, and papers were scattered across the desk, all evidence of his vast control over the family's mafia empire.

Taehyung entered without a word, his posture stiff, but his expression as unreadable as ever. He stopped in front of the desk, his gaze meeting his father's in a silent challenge.

"You've grown bold, Taehyung," Kim Taemoo said, his voice gravelly but commanding. "Too bold for your own good."

Taehyung clenched his jaw. He knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, but his father's accusatory tone made the tension spike.

"What exactly did I do this time, father?" Taehyung asked, his voice cold, calculated. He didn't bow or offer any form of respect. Not anymore.

Kim Taemoo slammed his hand down on the desk, causing the glass of whiskey to rattle. "Don't play coy with me, boy. You know damn well what I'm talking about. The hit on Seo's men. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Taehyung's eyes narrowed. He remembered the event perfectly. Seo's men had been skimming off the top of shipments-stealing from him. He had dealt with it, swiftly and decisively. That's what he did. That's what a king does. But the way his father was reacting, it was clear this went deeper.

"I cleaned up a mess," Taehyung said, his voice low and dangerous. "Seo's men were stealing from us. I handled it."

"You slaughtered them!" Kim Taemoo snapped, rising from his chair, his face contorted in anger. "Do you have any idea what kind of damage that does to our alliances? Seo is furious. He's calling for retribution."

Taehyung felt his blood boil. His father, always so focused on the politics of it all, never seeing the bigger picture. He stepped forward, his own temper rising to meet his father's fury.

"And I don't care what Seo thinks!" Taehyung spat, his voice rising. "I'm the king now. Not him. Not you. I can do whatever I damn well please."

Kim Taemoo's eyes flashed with barely-contained rage. "You think because you've built a name for yourself, you can defy the way things have always been? This isn't just about power, Taehyung. It's about control. It's about knowing when to strike and when to hold back."

"Hold back?" Taehyung's laugh was dark and bitter. "That's what you would've done. Sat back, played politics, while everyone else moves against us. Well, not me. I won't be weak."

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of their words. Kim Taemoo's fists clenched on the desk, his face hardening further. "You don't understand the consequences of your actions, boy. You think this world runs on fear alone, but you're wrong. There are alliances-deals that have kept us at the top for decades. And you-"

"I've done more for this family than you ever could!" Taehyung interrupted, his voice loud, echoing in the grand study. His chest heaved with the force of his anger, his eyes blazing. "You've held onto the past for too long. Times have changed, and I'm the one leading this empire now. Not you. I decide what happens. Not Seo. Not anyone else."

Kim Taemoo's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a sneer. "Is that so? And what happens when your impulsive decisions come back to destroy everything we've built? What then, Taehyung? Will your pride be enough to save you when the wolves come for your throat?"

Taehyung glared at him, his voice dropping to a cold, dangerous whisper. "Let them come. I'll burn every last one of them to the ground. This is my empire now, and I won't let anyone take it from me."

The tension in the room thickened, and Kim Taemoo's eyes darkened with fury. He stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the desk. "You're a fool if you think you can run this empire on brute force alone! You don't understand the delicate balance we've maintained for decades. Your recklessness is going to bring it all crashing down."

Taehyung sneered, his lips curling in defiance. "I'm not weak. I'm the king now. I don't need to play politics to stay on top. I make the rules. I decide what happens."

His father's expression hardened, the air between them charged with years of unspoken tension. But then, Kim Taemoo's voice dropped to a chilling calm, his gaze never wavering from his son. "You think you're invincible, Taehyung, but you're not. Your power is not absolute. And I won't stand by and watch you destroy everything. That's why I've made a decision."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "What decision?"

Kim Taemoo's face twisted into a grim smile. "You're getting married."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Taehyung's body went rigid, disbelief flashing in his eyes before being consumed by raw fury.

"What?" he hissed, stepping closer to the desk, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not getting married. Marriage is for the weak. I have no interest in tying myself down to some woman."

His father's smile faded, replaced by an icy glare. "It's already been decided. You'll be marrying the only daughter of the Busan mafia. A strategic alliance that will secure the entire Busan territory for our family."

Taehyung's temper exploded. His hand shot out, knocking over a crystal glass from his father's desk, sending it crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, but Taehyung barely noticed. He was too consumed by rage.

"I will not do that!" he roared, his voice shaking the walls. "I won't marry for power. I don't need anyone. I'm strong enough on my own."

Kim Taemoo didn't flinch. Instead, he met his son's outburst with a cold, calculated stare. "You think you're strong? You think you can do this alone? That's your weakness, Taehyung. You're too proud to see the bigger picture. This marriage isn't about love or tradition. It's about power. Once you marry her, Busan will be yours. After her father , his empire will fall to his son-in-law. And that son-in-law will be you."

Taehyung stood there, seething. His mind raced, every instinct screaming at him to reject the idea. He didn't want to be tied down. He didn't want to be like his father, bound by tradition and alliances. But then, as his father's words sank in, a new thought began to form.

Busan. The second-largest territory in South Korea's underground mafia world. If he married the daughter of the Busan mafia, he wouldn't just rule Seoul, Daegu, and a few other cities. He'd control more than half of South Korea. His influence would stretch across the entire southern peninsula.

Taehyung's anger simmered down, his mind shifting gears. This was more than just a marriage-it was a stepping stone to ultimate power. He could extend his rule far beyond what even his father had achieved. But this wouldn't be a real marriage. It would be a transaction, a strategic move. He wouldn't be tied to her in any real way.

"I'll do it," Taehyung finally said, his voice calm but cold. "I'll marry her."

Kim Taemoo's eyes flickered with approval, but his expression remained stern. "Good. But understand this, Taehyung-this marriage is a necessity. I don't care if you don't play the role of a loving husband. You'll do what needs to be done to secure our future."

Taehyung's lips curled into a smirk, a dark glint in his eyes. " I'm doing it for power only . She means nothing to me. This is a business transaction, nothing more."

His father nodded, the tension between them easing just slightly. "I expected nothing less. I'll send word to the Busan mafia. I'll send the marriage documents soon, and tell them to send back signed documents along with their daughter."

Taehyung's eyes darkened. This wasn't a marriage. It was a means to an end. He'd use the Busan territory to further cement his reign, and once that was done, he'd deal with the girl however he saw fit.

Power. That was all that mattered. And Taehyung would stop at nothing to claim it all.

With a final look at his father, Taehyung turned and left the study, his mind already calculating his next move. This was just the beginning. Soon, the entire southern half of South Korea would be his. And after that, who knew? Perhaps the whole country would bow to him.

The king had just made his next move on the chessboard. And soon, all the pieces would fall into place.