The room was bathed in dim light, shadows stretching across the walls as Kim Taehyung stood by the window, his bare chest glistening slightly under the soft glow. His gaze was distant, focused on the Seoul skyline, but his thoughts were miles away. Behind him, Kim Miso lay tangled in the sheets, her body still humming with the aftershocks of what had just transpired between them.

Their marriage was never meant to be intimate—merely a contract, a transaction for power and control. Yet tonight had been different. There had been a raw intensity, a fire between them that neither had anticipated. Miso lay there, her heart thudding loudly in her chest, still processing everything.

It wasn’t her first time—far from it. She had lost her virginity at nineteen, and one-night stands had followed. They had been fleeting moments of lust, easily discarded the next morning, the men’s faces barely a memory. But now, as she stared at Taehyung's broad back, a hollow feeling began to settle in her chest. This was different. He wasn’t just another man to forget about. He was her husband. She’d have to see him every single day.

Her thoughts swirled, replaying the day's events. The grand dinner, the strangers. The way that man had tried to touch her, his fingers grazing her skin without permission. A shiver ran down her spine. She had been so desperate to escape afterward, to retreat into her room, into her safe haven, where she could let her little space take over and drown out the anxiety. But Taehyung had distracted her, his presence overwhelming, his desire eclipsing everything else.

For a moment, she had forgotten. Forgotten the man at dinner, forgotten her fears. But now, as she lay alone, her mind drifted back to that uncomfortable touch, and the familiar feeling of being trapped began creeping back in. The safety of her little space was calling her.

She let out a small breath, curling into herself beneath the blankets, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly. Slowly, she felt her mind slipping, retreating from the overwhelming emotions. The fierce, confident woman Taehyung had seen earlier began to fade, and the girl—the vulnerable, fragile version of herself—took over.

Her chest felt tight, her hands trembling as she pulled the blanket closer. Everything felt too big, too overwhelming. She blinked, her vision blurring slightly as her demeanor shifted completely.

“Daddy... why am I naked?” Miso's voice came out soft, almost childlike, the innocence in her tone a stark contrast to the passionate woman who had shared the bed with Taehyung moments earlier. “Are we gonna take a bath?”

Taehyung, still standing by the window, stiffened at her words. He turned slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" His voice was sharp, his disbelief clear.

Miso blinked up at him, her lips forming a small pout. The room felt too dark, too unfamiliar. She wanted to feel safe, comforted. “It’s too dark. Can we keep the lights on, Daddy? I don’t like the dark... it’s scary.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched, the irritation rising in him like a wave. He turned fully toward her, eyes narrowing. "What kind of game are you playing now?" His voice was cold, sharp. "After everything, you're acting like this? Like some clingy girl who doesn’t know when to stop?"

Miso’s lip quivered, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m not being bad, Daddy... I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. “Did I do something wrong? Why are you mad? Are we not gonna play anymore?”

Taehyung stared at her, his anger faltering as confusion washed over him. The tears in her eyes were real, and there was a genuine fear in her voice that he couldn’t quite place. His frustration remained, but something about the situation was off, unsettling him.

“What... what are you talking about?” he asked, his tone softening, though the irritation still lingered at the edges.

Miso sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Did I make you mad because I don’t wanna be in the dark? Are you gonna leave me here alone?” Her voice was so small, so delicate. “I just want to be good, Daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”

Taehyung's confusion deepened. The Miso he knew—the bold, sassy woman who had no fear—was gone. This wasn’t an act, and it wasn’t a game. She was different. Vulnerable. Fragile in a way that made him feel utterly powerless.

He stared at her, completely thrown off balance. For the first time in his life, Kim Taehyung didn’t know how to handle the situation in front of him. He had fought men twice his size, controlled an empire with an iron fist, but this? This was something he didn’t understand.

“What is this?” he muttered under his breath, unable to hide the unease building in his chest.

Miso whimpered softly, curling further into herself, the blanket clutched tightly against her chest. “Please don’t leave me in the dark, Daddy... I don’t like being scared.” Her voice cracked, the tears spilling down her cheeks.

Taehyung took a step toward the bed, his mind racing. What was he supposed to do? The woman he had married was slipping away, leaving him with a version of her he had never seen. And for the first time in his life, Kim Taehyung, the most feared mafia king, felt completely powerless.

_______________________________________

                   Kim Taehyung

I stood there, frozen, staring at Miso huddled under the blankets. Her eyes—wide, innocent, and filled with fear—looked up at me with such desperation that I didn’t know how to react. Daddy, I’m sorry. Daddy, don’t leave me in the dark. Her words repeated in my head, and something inside me twisted. This wasn’t the Miso I knew—the sharp, fearless woman who never hesitated to challenge me. No, this was something else, something much more fragile. And I had no idea what the hell was happening.

"Stop this," I said, trying to keep my voice cold and distant, like I always did when I needed control. "You're not a child, Miso. Whatever this act is, you need to stop."

But the way she flinched, the fear growing even stronger in her eyes—it hit me harder than I expected. She wasn’t pretending. This wasn’t some trick or manipulation. I’d seen plenty of lies in my life, but this... this was real.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at her trembling form, trying to make sense of it. The Miso I knew could tear anyone down with a single glare, but now? Now she looked terrified, clutching her blanket like a scared little girl. And for the first time in a long time, I felt completely out of my depth.
“Daddy my snowball?” she asked

"Snowball…?" I repeated, my brows furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"My bunny," she whispered, her voice shaky and small. "Snowball. I need him… please, Daddy. Can you bring him to me?"

I stared at her, dumbfounded. A stuffed bunny? I’m a mafia king, not a babysitter. This was insane. I should walk out of the room and let her snap out of this on her own. But when I looked into her eyes, filled with so much vulnerability, I found myself unable to move.

"Where is it?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

"In the closet," she said, her words barely audible. "He must be scared too… please don’t leave us in the dark."

I clenched my jaw, my mind screaming at me to pull away, to distance myself. This wasn’t normal. But against all reason, I moved toward the closet, my hands feeling heavy as I reached for the door. Opening it, I found rows of pastel-colored pajamas, soft plush toys, and blankets that looked like they belonged to a child. And there, tucked in the corner, was a  white bunny—Snowball, I guess.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the bunny in my hand, completely thrown off by everything I was seeing. How could this fierce, sassy woman I married have this hidden away? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

Turning back toward her, I held the bunny awkwardly in my hand. "Is this it?"

Her face lit up instantly, and the way her smile brightened with innocent relief almost knocked the air out of me. "Snowball!" she cried, grabbing the bunny from me and hugging it close. "Thank you, Daddy… now Snowball isn’t scared anymore."

I didn’t move. I just stood there, watching her as she cuddled the stuffed animal, completely confused. This wasn’t an act. She wasn’t manipulating me. She truly believed what she was saying. I didn’t understand it, but I could see the truth in her eyes.

I turned away, trying to ground myself. "I’ll turn on the lights," I muttered, moving over to the bedside lamp and switching it on. The soft glow filled the room, chasing away the shadows, and I could feel her relax.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice small again. "Now it’s not so scary anymore."

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react. I had never been in a situation like this before. Hell, I’d dealt with bloodshed, betrayal, and power struggles, but this—comforting someone so fragile—it was foreign to me.

And then, her soft voice broke through the silence again. "Daddy… can you help me?"

I tensed. "Help you with what?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "I need to wash up… and put on my pajamas. Can you help me? Please?"

Her words knocked me off balance. Help her wash up? Was she serious? I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself. This wasn’t something I signed up for. I wasn’t supposed to be this kind of husband. But when she looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes, I felt myself giving in.

"Okay," I muttered, almost against my own will. I moved to the dresser and opened it, my fingers feeling stiff. The sight inside made me freeze. Rows of pastel pajamas—bunnies, kittens, hearts—so damn innocent. I grabbed the first one I saw, a soft pink set with bunnies on it, and turned back to her.

"Here," I said, holding them out to her. "Your pajamas."

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, clutching Snowball close to her chest. "Can you help me wash up now?"

I swallowed hard, feeling something shift inside me. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. But when she looked at me like that—so trusting, so innocent—I found myself unable to say no.

I guided her to the bathroom, keeping my movements as steady as possible, even though my mind was spinning. As I helped her wash, I kept my eyes averted, focusing on the task at hand. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know how to be in this situation. But I couldn’t leave her like this.

When we finished, I dressed her in the soft bunny pajamas, my hands moving on autopilot as I buttoned up the shirt. Every part of me was screaming that this wasn’t normal, that I needed to figure out what was happening. But I couldn’t ignore the way she clung to me, trusting me to take care of her.

Once she was back in bed, hugging Snowball, she looked up at me with those wide eyes again. "Daddy… will you sleep here with me today? I don’t want to be alone today… Please I'll be good girl."

I stared at her, completely lost. I should say no. I should get out of this room and figure out what the hell was going on. But something about the way she said it—like she really believed I was the only one who could protect her—made me hesitate.

"Why are you calling me Daddy?" I finally asked, my voice rough. "I’m not your Daddy, Miso."

She hugged Snowball tighter, her face scrunching up like she was thinking hard. "No you are my Daddy you are also same like my Daddy you’re not bad like him," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My daddy… he’s not a bad man. And you too. You’re nice to me. So… you’re my daddy too."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stood there, staring at her, completely speechless. She really believed what she was saying. She wasn’t playing games. She wasn’t trying to manipulate me. This was real to her.

I let out a long breath, feeling something inside me soften. "Okay," I said quietly, pulling the covers back and sliding in beside her. I kept my distance, unsure of how close I should be, but she didn’t seem to care. She scooted closer, curling up against me, her small body warm and fragile as she cuddled her bunny.

As her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep, I stared into the darkness, my mind racing. What had happened to her? Why was she acting like this? Tomorrow, I would get my answers. Tomorrow, I would find out the truth.

But tonight, I stayed. I stayed because, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone. Not like this.

                  ★★★★★★★

                  Author's Note

Hey, lovely readers! 🌸

Thank you so much for reading this chapter from Taehyung's POV. I wanted to dive deeper into his emotions, showing how conflicted and lost he feels in trying to understand Miso's behavior. Writing from his perspective gave me a chance to explore his softer side—something I think we all knew was buried beneath that cold exterior!

Miso’s little space adds a complex layer to their relationship, and I hope I’ve captured that confusion and tenderness Taehyung feels. He’s torn between being the ruthless mafia king and someone who is unexpectedly responsible for this vulnerable side of Miso. Their journey together is just beginning, and things are about to get more intense as secrets unravel. Stay tuned because Taehyung will get his answers, and their story is far from over!

I’d love to know your thoughts on this chapter! How did you like Taehyung’s internal struggle? And what do you think is going to happen next? Let me know in the comments or message me—your support means the world to me! 💜

Until next time,
— StarlitWings ✨