Kim Taehyung

---

I leaned against the bar, letting the ice in my glass clink softly as I swirled it around. Jimin was beside me, watching me with that curious gaze of his, but he knew better than to pry too deeply… yet. He sipped his drink, biding his time.

“Something’s off with you today, Taehyung,” he finally ventured, his voice just loud enough to cut through the hum of music and the laughter that surrounded us.

I shrugged, taking a long, slow drink. “Not everything has to be shared, Jimin.” The bite in my voice was enough to end the conversation. He sighed, but didn’t push.

For hours, we worked together, handling the paperwork that funneled my… less-than-legal profits through his company. Jimin had always been good at turning my black work into white, laundering it until it was as clean as my penthouse floors. He threw himself into it like it was any other business deal, all the while casting those sideways glances in my direction.

"Alright, spill it," he finally said, breaking the silence. He was nursing his own drink, swirling it in his hand, but his attention was fully on me. "You've been wound up tighter than a drum all day. What's going on?"

I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow in a way I knew would only irritate him. "Nothing's going on."

"Right," he scoffed, leaning forward with that knowing smirk. "Because you always get this tense over nothing. Come on, Tae. You think I don't know you by now?"

I clenched my jaw, considering brushing him off again, but I knew that wouldn't work with Jimin. He could be annoyingly persistent. "It's just work. Some things are harder to manage than others."

He chuckled, swirling his glass. "Right, 'work.' You mean the mysterious 'work' that you never actually talk about." His voice was casual, but the glint in his eyes said he knew better. "Is it really that simple, or is there a certain someone who’s getting under your skin?”

The faint smirk that touched his lips was enough to make me tense up. I took another sip of whiskey, hoping it would calm the tightness in my chest. “If you have something to say, Jimin, just say it.”

“Fine,” he leaned in, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. “I think Miso is getting to you.”

His words struck a nerve, and I could feel my grip tighten around my glass. “You think wrong.”

Jimin’s laugh was soft but amused, like he’d heard this all before. “Am I? Because last I checked, you were never the possessive type. But lately, you’ve been watching her like she’s a ticking time bomb.”

“I have reasons to keep an eye on her,” I said, my tone colder than intended. “She’s reckless. She doesn’t know her place.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not buying my excuse. “Oh, come on, Tae. You and I both know there’s more to it than that. You talk about her like she’s a liability, but if that were all it was, you’d have kept your distance a long time ago.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling the edge of frustration creeping in. “Maybe I would, if she weren’t constantly testing my patience.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Or maybe she’s just the one person who can get a reaction out of you, and you don’t know what to do with it.”

I set my glass down, staring at him with a hard glare. “She’s a complication I don’t need, Jimin. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat, unbothered by my tone. “You might be surprised what I understand.” He watched me carefully, letting the silence draw out before he continued. “Taehyung, you’re not exactly subtle. Every time I mention her, you get defensive. You act like she’s just another business deal, but you forget—I know you. I see the way she gets under your skin.”

I scoffed, trying to keep my composure. “She doesn’t get under my skin. She’s… she’s a duty. An obligation. That’s all.”

“Is that right?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “Because if that were true, you wouldn’t be sitting here, brooding over her instead of focusing on what actually matters. You’re treating her like she’s a problem, but it seems more like she’s become… important to you.”

“ Important?” I echoed, my voice low and tense. “You think I’d let someone like her get important?”

“Exactly,” Jimin replied without missing a beat. “Because she’s unlike anyone you’ve dealt with before. She challenges you, Taehyung. And you don’t know how to handle it.”

I shot him a dark look. “I don’t need to handle anything. She’ll fall in line, or she’ll learn the consequences. That’s all there is to it.”

Jimin leaned forward, his gaze sharp and searching. “You don’t actually believe that, do you? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here trying to convince yourself she’s just an inconvenience.”

My grip on the glass tightened, my jaw set. “I don’t have time for this, Jimin. She’s just a distraction, one I need to deal with before she causes more trouble.”

He sighed, studying me for a long moment before he spoke. “Look, Taehyung, you can pretend she doesn’t matter all you want, but at some point, you’ll have to face the truth. Maybe you’re scared because she’s the first person who’s ever made you feel… anything.”

My eyes narrowed. “Watch yourself.”

Jimin held up his hands, a small smile on his face. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve built walls around yourself for years, Tae. Maybe she’s the first person to ever make you question them.”

I glared at him, feeling a flicker of discomfort I wasn’t used to. “She’s not worth the trouble.”

“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not drawn to her. And you know it.”

Silence settled between us, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. I hated that he was right, hated the way he could see through my defenses. But he didn’t push further, simply offering me a knowing look before taking another sip of his drink.

"Honestly, Tae, one of these days you’re going to let someone in. Even me,” he muttered.

I shot him a glance, but Jimin’s knowing smirk softened any annoyance that sparked within me. We’d been through this before. He knew I wasn’t the sharing type, especially not when the source of my frustrations was as confusing as Miso had become.

---

By the time I left Jimin, the sky had turned to a deep, dusky blue. I met Namjoon briefly, our conversation terse and to the point. He managed the business empire, and I managed the rest—the world that didn’t play by rules or laws. My brother had no idea what it took, but we respected our separate roles. It was cleaner that way. Simpler.

In Namjoon’s spacious, sleek office, I settled into the chair across from his mahogany desk, feeling the tension in the air almost immediately. It was unusual for my older brother to call me in like this, especially when it wasn’t just about business.

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with that familiar, calculating look. “Thanks for coming, Taehyung. There are a few updates with the new project I thought we should discuss.”

I gave him a slight nod, folding my arms. “Of course. Let’s get into it.”

We spent the next few minutes talking logistics, figures, and future plans. Our voices were low, controlled, as we meticulously went through every point, every detail. But as soon as we finished, I could tell he had something else on his mind. Namjoon shifted in his seat, looking at me with a certain intensity, almost like he was weighing his words before speaking them aloud.

“Actually, there’s… another matter I wanted to talk to you about,” he began, his gaze piercing. “It’s about Father.”

My brow furrowed. “What about him?”

Namjoon leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Have you noticed anything… different about him lately?”

I paused, thinking it over. Then I shrugged. “He’s the same as he’s always been. Controlling, manipulative, and set in his ways. What exactly are you getting at?”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “No, it’s more than that. I know Father has his usual traits, but there’s something off—like he’s hiding something. He’s been more… preoccupied. And it’s not just business.”

The slight furrow in my brow deepened. “Preoccupied? How so?”

Namjoon sighed, choosing his words carefully, as if each one needed to be perfect. “For one, he’s been asking about you more than usual. He’s been making subtle inquiries about your marriage to Miso, how things are between the two of you. It’s strange because he never really involved himself in our personal lives before—especially not like this.”

I felt a flicker of irritation. “Why does he care? He’s the one who arranged this marriage. I never had a choice, and I doubt Miso did either.”

“Exactly.” Namjoon’s tone was pointed, almost pushing me to see what he was seeing. “But it feels like he’s watching this marriage…closely. Almost as if he’s waiting for something to happen. And I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding his real intentions.”

I leaned back, jaw tight, trying to process his words. “He’s always been controlling. He wants to secure the family’s power, so he makes moves as he sees fit. That’s nothing new.”

Namjoon rubbed his temples, looking more frustrated by the second. “It’s more than that, Taehyung. He’s been meeting with people I don’t recognize—people not typically associated with our family’s business. And whenever I try to bring it up, he shuts me down.”

I let the silence hang for a moment, letting his words sink in. Suspicion started to creep into my mind, making me feel uneasy. “So, what are you saying? That Father’s hiding something big? Something that could affect us?”

“Yes,” Namjoon replied, his voice filled with a frustration I rarely heard. “And whatever it is, it’s consuming him. I can see it in his eyes—like he’s on edge, more than usual. I don’t know if it’s connected to you, Miso, or something else entirely, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s up to something we’re not going to like.”

My gaze darkened, anger mingling with curiosity. This was typical of him, wasn’t it? Always pulling strings, always trying to control my life, our lives. “If he thinks he can meddle in my life beyond what he already has, he’s going to regret it.”

Namjoon nodded, his expression somber. “I know, and that’s why I’m warning you. Whatever he’s planning, we need to be prepared for it. This isn’t just about business or reputation—it’s personal. And when Father gets personal, it rarely ends well.”

I could feel my resolve solidifying, a new determination settling within me. “Agreed. But I won’t be a pawn in his game. Not again.”

Namjoon offered a small, tight-lipped smile, almost as if he admired the fire in my eyes. “That’s the spirit. Just… keep your eyes open, Taehyung. If he’s planning something, it won’t be long before he makes his move.”

I stood up, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders but knowing this conversation was just the beginning. “I’ll be ready.” And with that, I left Namjoon’s office, the fire within me blazing even stronger.

_______________________________________

After a day like this, all I wanted was the quiet of my penthouse, a refuge from prying eyes and questioning minds. But as I stepped inside, I was greeted by something that set me immediately on edge. Silence. A chilling, unsettling silence.

Usually, Yin and Yang were stationed in the living room, keeping a watchful eye on Miso. Her latest bout of ignoring them must have gotten under their skin, yet even when she shut them out, they stayed close, never straying far from her side. But tonight, the space they usually occupied was vacant.

The only sound was from the kitchen—Soyeon busying herself with something, her presence barely registering in the background.

I stalked over to her, a cold edge to my voice. “Where are Yin and Yang?”

She didn’t look up from the counter as she replied, “Inside Miso Ma’am’s room, sir.”

A surge of anger shot through me. The glass in my hand cracked in my grip as I clenched my fists, jaw tight. Why were they in her room? Why hadn’t they followed my orders? But beneath that… there was something darker, a feeling I couldn’t quite name. Was it because they were disobeying me, or was it something else entirely? The thought of other men being close to her—my wife—was an irritation that burned like a smoldering ember in my chest.

Without another word, I turned and stormed toward the stairs. Each step pounded out my frustration, the distance between me and her door closing all too quickly. The audacity… Yin and Yang had no place in her room, no business being anywhere near her personal space, not when she was alone.

I reached her door and shoved it open, the loud thud echoing through the room. Miso’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something else—something almost challenging. But my glare wasn’t for her. My gaze zeroed in on Yin and Yang, seated casually on the couch like they had every right to be here.

“Miso,” I said, my voice barely above a growl. My eyes flicked from her to the two men. “What is going on here?”

Yin and Yang stiffened immediately, snapping to attention, practically shrinking under my glare. They looked away, almost wilting, but not Miso. She leaned back, folding her arms and meeting my gaze head-on, an eyebrow raised as if daring me to challenge her.

“Just a chat with my friends,” she said, calm and defiant. “Or is that not allowed either?”

Her words, so casually defiant, only fueled the heat building in my chest. My gaze locked onto hers, feeling the tension pulling tight between us. This wasn’t the first time she’d challenged me, but something about her demeanor today—calm, even smug—made it feel different.

“You two—out. Now.”

Yin and Yang exchanged quick, apologetic glances in her direction before hurrying past me toward the door. I shot them a look as they passed, a silent warning that I would deal with them later. The fact that they’d even thought of crossing a line to talk to her was something I’d remember.

When the door clicked shut behind them, the room felt too still. I turned my attention fully to her, my expression hard, unyielding. I expected her to back down, to show even a hint of remorse or regret. But Miso held my gaze with that same defiance, arms folded as if she’d won some kind of battle.

I took a step closer, watching her carefully. For a brief moment, something flickered in her eyes—something almost vulnerable, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. It was enough to make my chest tighten, enough to pull me in, if only for a second. I crossed the distance between us, determined not to let her see any weakness in me. Not now.

I took another step toward her, watching the storm gathering in her eyes. Miso didn’t look remotely intimidated; if anything, she was angry. She practically bristled, chin held high and defiance etched across her face.

“What gives you the right to barge in here and bark orders?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “They’re my friends, Taehyung, and you can’t just show up and yell at them because you’re in some kind of mood.”

I could feel my pulse pounding, but I kept my face neutral, watching her carefully. She wasn’t backing down—not even a bit.

“And another thing,” she continued, her voice rising, “this is my room. You don’t get to just break in here like you own the place. Just because you’re their boss doesn’t mean you get to control everything, especially not what I do, or who I speak to.”

Her words stoked something deep within me—a fire I struggled to contain. She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand what it did to me, seeing her laugh with other men like I was invisible, like she could brush me aside without a thought.

But I stayed silent, letting her vent every ounce of frustration she had. She went on and on, barely pausing for breath as she tore into me.

“Do you even care what I think, or am I just another thing you think you own?” She was relentless, her words dripping with challenge. “Because newsflash, Taehyung, I’m not some possession. You don’t control me, and you never will.”

I moved closer, my body only inches from hers, and her words faltered, her gaze flickering. I could see her chest rising and falling as she tried to hold onto her bravado. I lifted my hand, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing her cheek. I kept my voice low and steady, my words seething with the intensity I’d held back.

“You can say what you like, Miso, but that doesn’t change one thing.” My hand slid to her chin, tilting her face up so she was forced to look at me. “You’re mine. No matter what you think, no matter what you say—you are mine.”

She glared up at me, defiance blazing in her eyes, but I didn’t release her. I tightened my hold on her chin, my thumb brushing against her jawline.

“I don’t care who you think you’re close to, or how many ‘friends’ you have.” My voice was dangerously quiet, dripping with possessiveness. “I don’t want anyone near you, Miso. You’re my wife, and that means no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to be close to you.”

She opened her mouth, but I cut her off, leaning in until my face was inches from hers. “You’re mine, Miso. Whether you accept it or not doesn’t matter to me. No one else gets to come near you.”

Her breathing had quickened, but her eyes still held that fire. She wrenched her chin out of my grip, crossing her arms defiantly. “Possessive much?” she muttered, her tone scathing. “You can’t just lay a claim on me like I’m some prized object. Maybe you’re the one who needs to learn boundaries, Taehyung. Did you ever think of that?”

I couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto my face. “Boundaries?” I repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re right here, lecturing me about boundaries?”

“Maybe you should get that I’m not here to be ‘yours’ like some trophy wife,” she shot back, her voice cold but laced with a biting sass. “You might be used to everyone falling at your feet, but I’m not one of your followers, Taehyung. So let me make this clear—I will speak to whoever I want, whenever I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

She was practically seething now, her anger giving her that sass I’d grown so accustomed to. It was the fire I hadn’t seen in a while, and somehow, even though it defied me, I found myself drawn to it.

“You don’t get to decide who I spend my time with,” she continued, her tone sharpening. “I don’t need your approval, and I certainly don’t need your possessive lectures. Just because you have some twisted sense of control doesn’t mean you own me, Taehyung.”

She glared up at me, challenging me to argue, to push back. Her words were sharp, laced with innuendo, each one poking at my patience. She was testing me, daring me, and I could feel my last shred of restraint slipping away.

Without a second thought, I closed the distance between us, capturing her lips in a fierce, unyielding kiss. She gasped, trying to pull away, but I held her close, one hand pressed firmly against her back, the other cradling her face as I deepened the kiss. Her fists pounded weakly against my chest, her struggle only fueling my resolve. She tasted of defiance and fire, a combination I couldn’t resist, and I felt something inside me unravel.

After a moment, her resistance softened, and I felt her sink into the kiss, her arms wrapping around my neck as she gave in. But just as I felt her responding, she pulled back, her face flushed, eyes wide with shock and anger.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, her breath coming in short, furious gasps.

I smirked, letting my thumb trace the line of her jaw. “That, Miso, was a reminder. You’re mine, no matter how much you try to fight it.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something else—a spark that made my pulse quicken. It was the fire I’d missed, the fight I wanted back in her, and for a brief second, I could see her battling her own emotions, trying to decide whether to fight me or give in.

But she didn’t look away. Instead, she squared her shoulders, raising an eyebrow as her lips curved into a sly smirk.

“Possessive and delusional,” she muttered. “Guess some people really can’t handle rejection.”

I chuckled, amused by her comeback, my hand sliding down to rest on her waist. “You can deny it all you want, Miso. But you and I both know there’s no escaping this.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see the color rising in her cheeks, the way her gaze lingered just a second too long on my face.

“Keep telling yourself that, Taehyung,” she said, trying to sound unaffected, though I could hear the slight tremor in her voice. “Maybe one day, you’ll believe it.”

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Trust me, Miso. You’re going to realize it too.”

I stepped out of Miso’s room, the door clicking softly behind me as I struggled to compose myself. The warmth of her lips lingered on mine, igniting a heat within me that I had never anticipated feeling for anyone.A smile tugged at my lips, and I couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of her soft, warm lips brushing against mine. Why did that kiss feel so electrifying? I could still taste the sweetness of her, a flavor that seemed to ignite something deep within me. I had left without waiting for her reply, my heart racing with a mixture of exhilaration and confusion. What had just happened? I, the aloof mafia king, had kissed her and walked away like it was a casual affair.  I had always viewed relationships as a distraction, a weakness to be avoided. Yet here I was, grinning like a fool, captivated by a girl I had initially thought was just another pawn in my father’s games. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t allow her to sway my emotions, but I couldn't deny the shift that had taken place. It was unsettling, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

As I made my way through the sleek, modern corridors of my penthouse, the walls adorned with minimalist art and soft lighting, a smile crept onto my lips against my will. I couldn’t shake the image of her flushed cheeks, those big, curious eyes staring up at me with defiance and a hint of something deeper. The way she had looked at me after the kiss sent a rush of emotions coursing through me—something I had fought against for so long.

I reached my bedroom, a spacious sanctuary overlooking the cityscape. The sprawling view of Seoul twinkled like stars beneath me, but all I could see was her. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts that swirled around in my mind. I didn’t want her to be in my head like this. I had made a conscious decision to keep my distance, to not let her in. But now, it felt impossible.

My phone buzzed, breaking the spell. I glanced at the screen to see a call from one of my men. The urgency in their voice was a stark reminder that I couldn’t linger in these newfound feelings for too long.

“Boss,” he said, his tone clipped, “we’ve got movement. Your father is headed to Mr. Seo’s office.”

A frown crossed my face as I leaned back against the door. Mr. Seo was a name I had learned to associate with trouble. Mr. Seo was notorious for his dealings, always skirting the edges of legality. “Stay close to him. I want updates on his every move. Don’t let him out of your sight,” I instructed, my voice low and steady.

“Understood.”

As I hung up, unease curled in my stomach. My father was a man who thrived on control and secrecy, and I had to know what he was plotting. But as I turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights glimmering like distant stars, Miso’s laughter echoed in my mind, refusing to let me focus on anything else.

I let out a frustrated sigh, running my fingers through my damp hair. How was it possible that a simple moments with her could disrupt my entire world? She had this maddening ability to invade my thoughts, stirring a whirlpool of emotions I had always kept at bay.

The memory of her angry face, the way her lips had curled into that defiant scrowl , pulled me back to that moment. “You think you can just kiss me and walk away?” I could almost hear her angry voice and the memory of her angry sass made me smile again, despite the tension brewing inside me.

What the hell is happening to me?

My jaw tightened as I shook my head, willing myself to be the man I was before, the one who didn’t get tangled in emotional nonsense. Yet, as I stepped into the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath my feet grounding me, all I could think about was the way she made me feel—alive, vibrant, and entirely out of control.

I turned on the shower, letting the water wash over me, but it couldn’t cleanse the thoughts of her from my mind. Each droplet cascading over my body felt like an echo of her presence, a reminder of that kiss. I closed my eyes, trying to drown out the thoughts, but all I could see was her—her smile, her fierce spirit, and the way she had looked at me with a mixture of challenge and curiosity.

Why did I feel so drawn to her? I didn’t understand it. I had built walls around my heart, convinced myself that I was above such things. Yet here I was, in the grip of something entirely new—a mix of possessiveness and an insatiable need to know more about her.I tried to wash away the confusion, but all I could think of was her—her smile, her fierce spirit, and that kiss. The way her lips had felt against mine left me in a daze, a delicious confusion clouding my mind.

Why am I feeling like this? I shouldn’t care. She’s not someone I wanted to get close to. I had made that clear. Yet, here I was, battling a storm of emotions I had never encountered before.

I turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel and rubbing my hair dry. My mind was still a whirlpool of thoughts about Miso. It struck me then: I was being possessive of her, an instinct I didn’t fully understand. Why did it bother me so much when she laughed with other people or when she looked at them with that innocent spark?

I slid into bed, the sheets cool against my skin, but sleep eluded me. As I closed my eyes, her image invaded my mind like a ghost refusing to fade. I saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the way her gaze locked onto mine as if daring me to challenge her. I found it impossible to fall asleep. The moments with Miso kept replaying in my mind, a loop of bliss and confusion that left me restless.

“Why do you keep making this difficult?” I, ask this to myself in frustration and showing intrigue woven into my words.

I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling, the silence of the penthouse amplifying my thoughts. I had always prided myself on being a man of control, a king who dictated his own destiny. But Miso had turned that concept on its head, forcing me to confront feelings I had buried deep.

To indulge in whatever this was growing between us? I couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, but it was a strange blend of joy, excitement, and something deeper—something I didn’t want to face.

With every breath I took, I could feel the weight of my own resistance pressing down on me. I had always been in control, always played the part of the untouchable king in my world. But now, here I was, questioning everything.

“I don’t want to want you,” I muttered to the darkness around me, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “But I can’t help it.”

The shadows danced across the walls, and I couldn’t shake the sense that something had shifted between us. I didn’t want to feel this way—possessive, vulnerable, and inexplicably drawn to her—but I also couldn’t deny the thrill that accompanied it.The kiss had sparked a fire within me, one that I was not ready to extinguish. I felt alive, a sensation I thought I had buried beneath the weight of my responsibilities.

“Damn it,” I muttered, frustration bubbling to the surface. I had sworn I wouldn’t let anyone in, that I wouldn’t allow anyone to disrupt the carefully constructed life I had built. But as I lay there, the city lights flickering outside like distant stars, I felt something break within me.

And as the night deepened, I surrendered to the truth—I would pursue this feeling, whatever it was. Miso had burrowed into my heart without permission, and I wasn’t willing to fight it any longer. The desire to protect her, to claim her, to keep her close ignited a fierce determination within me.

I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness, and whispered into the silence, “This isn’t over, Miso.”A promise to myself and to her. I would explore this newfound territory, even if it scared me. Even if it meant redefining everything I thought I knew about feelings and possession.

The promise was clear. I would pursue this feeling, no matter how terrifying it was. I wouldn’t let my fear of vulnerability hold me back any longer. Something had changed in me, and I was ready to explore whatever it was. The thrill of it was intoxicating, and for the first time, I felt alive—not just as a king, but as a man yearning for something more.

As I closed my eyes, her image remained vivid in my mind, and I allowed myself to drift into sleep, surrendering to the feelings that surrounded me. The fire she had ignited within me would not be extinguished so easily, and I knew that this was just the beginning of a journey I hadn’t anticipated embarking on.

For the first time, I felt like I could embrace this whirlwind of emotions, ready to chase after whatever came next.

************************************

Author’s Note:

Hey, you beautiful chaos-loving readers!

How are we feeling after that chapter? Because Taehyung…well, let’s just say our man is spiraling, and he has no idea why. First, he storms out of Miso’s room all proud and smug, and then, bam! Her kiss is living in his head rent-free, and he’s getting hit with feelings he can’t even name. Possessiveness? Joy? Relief?? Taehyung.exe has officially stopped working, and honestly, it’s about time!

Our stone-cold mafia king, the man who doesn’t do love, is now wandering around his penthouse like a lovesick puppy, smiling for no reason, thinking about Miso, and trying to figure out why he’s suddenly acting like the lead in a rom-com. 😂 The confusion is real, folks. He can’t stop thinking about her, can’t stop feeling this weird warmth…and yet, he still has no clue what’s happening. Someone get this man a dictionary for “feelings,” stat!

I’m loving how their story’s unraveling, and I hope you are too! The tangled mess Taehyung’s heart is becoming? Chef’s kiss. Let me know what you think—do you love seeing Mr. Ice King flustered, or what? And drop some theories if you’ve got ‘em! You all know I live for your comments, so hit me up down below!

Thanks for reading, laughing, and sticking around for the drama. See you in the next chapter for more of Taehyung’s feelings crisis.

Love ya tons,
StarlitWings 🌙