The drive through the long, tree-lined road leading to the Kim Estate felt endless to Taehyung. The air was thick with tension, crackling with unspoken words and fury. His hands gripped the seat as if he could strangle the very car for the mounting anger he could barely hold in. His mind raced, and each thought seemed to feed the storm brewing within him. His father—his own father—had disappeared for weeks, without a word, and now, with barely any explanation, he was back.

The tension was palpable as Taehyung’s car slowly pulled into the long, winding driveway of the Kim Estate. The heavy gates, gilded and imposing, opened as the guards recognized the vehicle.Taehyung’s jaw was clenched tight as his car pulled up to the Kim Estate. The grand mansion loomed ahead, cold and stately as ever, but this time it seemed to radiate something darker, something more oppressive. The estate itself, with its towering iron gates and vast, manicured grounds, was a symbol of power, wealth, and fear—a fortress that had stood for generations. Yet, it felt like he was entering enemy territory. His father’s recent vanishing act and sudden reappearance had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. Taehyung’s expression was one of barely contained rage, and his body radiated an intensity that could almost be felt in the air around him. Yin and Yang, his loyal men, flanked either side of him, their presence silent but just as formidable.They knew their boss well enough to stay quiet in moments like this. His simmering anger was something you didn’t provoke unless you were looking to find out just how dangerous Taehyung truly was. And today, it was clear: Taehyung was ready to find out what his father had been up to.

Taehyung had spent the past few days tirelessly searching for any leads on his father's whereabouts, growing more frustrated with each passing hour. His men had scoured the underworld for any whispers, any rumors, but nothing had surfaced. The sudden appearance of his father's return from Italy, without so much as a word or a warning, sent a wave of anger surging through Taehyung’s veins. He couldn't shake the feeling that his father was hiding something. Something important.

As Taehyung stepped out of the car, he didn’t look back at Yin or Yang, his focus only on the large estate before him. The front door opened as soon as they approached, the guards knowing their place well. They stepped aside without question, allowing the trio to pass. Taehyung walked with purpose, his footsteps echoing in the large, marble-floored foyer, while Yin and Yang followed, their presence almost ghostly in the quiet.

Ignoring the nodding greetings of the staff. He was here for one purpose: answers. He stormed inside, boots echoing against the marble floors, his eyes locked forward. The familiar, cold opulence of the estate barely registered as he made his way through the hallways, each step adding to the storm brewing within him.

A maid, young and visibly nervous, quickly stepped forward as he approached. She offered a polite bow, but her eyes darted toward him with clear anxiety.

"Master Taehyung, welcome home."

Without a word, Taehyung’s cold gaze locked onto her. His voice was sharp and commanding, yet dripping with barely controlled fury. “Where is my father?”

The maid flinched, her hands clasped in front of her as she stammered out her response. “H-h-he’s in his office, sir.”

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. His eyes hardened even more as he stormed through the halls, past the grand paintings and opulent decorations. His mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one more explosive than the last. Why did he leave without informing anyone? What was he doing in Italy for all this time? And why did he think he could just waltz back into the estate without a word?

The door to his father’s office stood before him, the same door that had been a barrier between them for years. Taehyung didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he pushed it open with force, the hinges protesting with a loud creak. His father, a man whose cold demeanor had once been a source of pride, sat behind his desk, facing away from the door. But Taehyung’s presence was like a lightning bolt in the room, and his father’s head snapped around, His father's chair, turned toward from the door, slowly swiveled around, and Taehyung could see the shock on his father’s face before it quickly morphed into anger.

"Taehyung!" his father barked, his tone cold and sharp, almost as if Taehyung had committed an unforgivable offense. "What is this? Entering my office without knocking? What are your manners?"

Taehyung stood tall in the doorway, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud ready to burst. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sneer. "Manners? I’m not here for pleasantries," he repeated, his voice dark and low. "You want to talk to me about manners? You’re the one who disappeared without a word. You’re the one who can’t even be bothered to tell anyone where you’ve gone. Where the hell were you in Italy, and why did you leave without even telling your own men? No one knew. Not even the people who’ve worked for you for years. What kind of man does that?   Care to explain?” His gaze was hard, unyielding, a challenge."

The elder Kim’s expression didn’t waver, though something flickered briefly in his eyes. He leaned back, clasping his hands in front of him, and let out a slow, dismissive sigh. “I went to Italy for a vacation,” he said, his tone casual, almost mocking. “A man of my position needs a break once in a while to spent some time for themselves self, recharging," There’s nothing to explain.”  he replied, the words slipping from his mouth as if they held no weight at all.

Taehyung’s heart raced as his eyes sharpened. Vacation? It was a weak excuse, and Taehyung could see right through it. His father was hiding something, and Taehyung could feel the pulse of that lie thrumming in the air between them. Taehyung’s jaw tightened, but he refused to back down. He could see the lie hiding beneath his father’s calm exterior. The elder Kim was far too calculated, too meticulous, to disappear without notifying his most trusted men, let alone his own son.

“A vacation?” Taehyung’s voice was laced with disdain. “Since when does the great Kim Minho need a break? You expect me to believe that?”

The older man’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but with a hint of warning. “Believe what you like,” he replied, voice dangerously quiet. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, Taehyung. Maybe this is your empire,but I'm not your servent nor you are in any position to question me.”

The tension in the room thickened, each man locked in a silent battle of wills. But Taehyung knew when to pick his fights. Pushing further now would only give his father more satisfaction. He forced himself to relax his clenched fists, choosing to step back, at least for now.

"If that’s the truth," Taehyung said, his voice low and measured, "then fine. But you better pray it is. Because if it’s not..." He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he turned to leave, his mind spinning with frustration and suspicion.

But just as he's about to went toward door, his father’s voice rang out again, sharper this time. "Wait, Taehyung."

Taehyung’s hand froze. He turned slowly, his back stiff with barely-contained fury. "What now?"

His father studied him for a moment before leaning forward slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "How’s your wife? Is she still behaving like her usual bratty self? Or has she started to tempt you more these days?" The smirk that formed on his father’s lips made Taehyung’s blood run cold. The words were a challenge, a taunt.

The room fell silent as Taehyung’s anger exploded, the fury in his chest boiling over like a volcano. He didn’t bother to hide it anymore. “Don’t you ever talk about her,” Taehyung spat, his voice harsh and filled with venom. "You have no right to bring her up. She’s mine. And I won’t let anyone, especially you, talk about her like that. Don’t ever mention her again, or you’ll regret it."

For a brief moment, his father’s smirk faltered, but it was quickly replaced by a look of calm amusement. He seemed to enjoy provoking Taehyung, toying with him like a puppet on a string. "Ah, so protective. It seems you’ve changed more than I thought. But remember, Taehyung, she’s a woman. She can be broken just like the others. Don’t let her fool you."

The words felt like a slap across Taehyung’s face, but he didn’t flinch. He took a deep breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "This conversation is over," Taehyung said, his voice steady but cold. "You don’t get to speak about her again. Ever."

But as he  again turned to leave, his father’s voice, casual yet piercing, stopped him in his tracks. “By the way,” he said, an almost smug note entering his tone, “it’s nearly time for the annual Kim family gathering. You remember, don’t you? The grand event we hold every year?”

Taehyung’s shoulders tensed, but he turned back with a barely concealed scowl. “I’ll speak to Namjoon about arranging everything,” he replied coolly, his tone dismissive. But the elder Kim simply raised a brow, his smile tinged with a hint of mischief.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. I’ve already taken care of all the arrangements,” he said smoothly, his gaze fixed on Taehyung with unsettling intensity. “All I need from you, my dear son, is for you to attend—and, of course, to bring your wife. This will be her… introduction to society as a Kim.”

Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat, though his expression remained stoic. The idea of parading Miso in front of the ruthless elite of their world—the leering eyes, the unspoken judgments—did not sit well with him. His jaw tightened at the thought, his gaze darkening. “She doesn’t need to be involved in this,” he replied coldly.

“Oh, but she does,” his father replied, his smile widening, almost predatory. “The world is waiting to see the woman who could tame the mighty Kim Taehyung. And you wouldn’t want to deprive them of that, would you?”

Taehyung’s blood boiled, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. He wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of seeing his anger. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ll be there. But let me be clear—keep her out of whatever game you’re playing. Miso isn’t your pawn.”

His father’s only response was a slight, mocking smile, one that sent a chill down Taehyung’s spine. There was something in his eyes, a hidden agenda that Taehyung couldn’t quite decipher. But he knew better than to underestimate the man sitting before him.

Without another word, Taehyung turned and strode toward the door, his anger simmering beneath the surface. As he reached the exit, his father’s voice stopped him one last time.

“And Taehyung… remember,” he said, his tone both ominous and amused, “this party is more than just a gathering. It’s tradition. It’s the legacy of the Kim family. Don’t let me down.”

Taehyung didn’t respond. He simply pushed the door open, letting it slam shut behind him  with a force that shook the walls, the sound echoing through the halls. Yin and Yang stood outside, their expressions stoic but their eyes betraying the weight of the situation. They could see the rage in Taehyung’s posture, the storm that brewed just beneath the surface.

"Let’s go," Taehyung growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without a word, Taehyung brushed past them, his fists clenched as he strode down the hallway. The weight of his father’s words lingered, the sense of something hidden, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that, whatever it was, it would come to light at the upcoming gathering—a gathering where Miso would be presented as his wife, his partner in this ruthless world. His loyal men following silently behind him. Yin and Yang exchanged a glance but said nothing, knowing better than to question their boss when he was in this state.

As they reached the car, Taehyung couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. His father’s words, his evasiveness, the mocking tone—none of it added up. But Taehyung knew one thing for sure: his father had secrets, and he would do whatever it took to uncover them, even if it meant burning every bridge along the way. Yin and Yang watched him with quiet loyalty, understanding the storm raging within him without the need for words.

But Taehyung didn’t need to voice his thoughts. Taehyung couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. His father’s casual attitude, his dismissive words about Miso—it all seemed like a game to him. But Taehyung knew better. Something was happening. Something bigger than just a vacation.

And Taehyung was going to find out exactly what. Because if his father had something to hide, he would be the one to uncover it. And when he did, the consequences would be unimaginable.

He knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning. His father’s games, his hidden motives—they were all pieces of a puzzle he was yet to fully understand. But one thing was clear: he would protect Miso at any cost. And if his father intended to use her as a pawn, he would be met with a force he had never anticipated.

As Taehyung climbed into the car, his expression hardened, his resolve solidifying. The party was set, the stage prepared. And though he couldn’t see the full picture yet, he was ready for whatever lay ahead. Because, in the end, he was still Kim Taehyung—and no one, not even his father, would control his fate.

As the car sped away from the estate, the weight of the unknown pressed down on Taehyung’s chest, and he knew that this was only the beginning. The answers were out there—he just had to find them. And when he did, no one would be safe from the wrath of Kim Taehyung.

-----★-----★------★-----★-------★------★------

KIM TAEHYUNG

The night was heavy and quiet as I finally stepped into the penthouse, fatigue wrapped around my shoulders like a shroud. Yin and Yang had stayed late to strategize with me—my father’s announcement had set off too many thoughts, each heavier than the last. All I wanted was solitude and a few hours of rest.

But as I passed through the living room, I caught sight of her—Miso, curled up on the couch in the dim glow of the TV, her eyes wide and bright, locked onto the screen. She looked… different. Unfamiliar. Vulnerable. Her expression flickered between emotions as if she were somewhere far away, living a different life.

I stopped, just for a moment, watching her. The scene on the screen was romantic, with soft lighting and gentle music, and she looked completely absorbed. A small smile tugged at my mouth. She didn’t even notice me. But then, her gaze shifted and caught mine. Her expression changed in an instant—a frown, a huff, and she turned back to the screen, shutting me out completely. It was oddly… endearing.

Ignoring the bite of my own fatigue, I turned toward the stairs, but before I could take a step, I heard it—a sharp cry, breaking the silence.

“Oww! Ahhh!”

I whipped around, something inside me twisting hard, and strode back to her, finding her clutching her ankle, her face scrunched in pain, eyes glistening with tears. The sight of her like that stopped me cold. Vulnerability… It wasn’t something I associated with her.

I crouched down, instinct taking over. “What happened?” I asked, my voice coming out softer than I intended. “Let me see.”

She pointed at her ankle, her hands shaky. I glanced down, already seeing the slight swelling beneath her pajama cuff. Her face scrunched again as she tried to hold back a whimper, and for reasons I didn’t understand, it hit me in the chest.

“You’re so reckless,” I muttered, but there was no anger, only worry, which felt foreign on my tongue. “What were you doing to hurt yourself like this?”

She looked away, her voice coming out in a small, almost guilty whisper. “I was… jumping… because the leads on TV kissed for the first time.” Her cheeks flushed, and she snuck a glance up at me before looking away, clearly embarrassed.

I stared, genuinely at a loss for words. She was excited over a fictional romance? It was ridiculous. Yet somehow, seeing her so open, so unguarded—it did something to me. Made me feel… something I wasn’t used to feeling.

But then she pouted, her lip quivering slightly. “You’re… you’re yelling at me,” she mumbled, sounding small, hurt. “I’m hurting, and you’re being so mean. That’s not fair…”

Her expression struck me, made me feel like I was seeing someone else entirely—a version of her that was defenseless, almost childlike. It was like a light piercing through a crack I didn’t even know I had in me.

“Alright, alright,” I said, my voice softer now, even if it surprised me. “I’m not yelling.” I brushed a stray tear from her cheek, an action so unfamiliar it almost felt like it wasn’t me. “Just stay still. I’ll get you some ice.”

Raising my voice, I called toward the hall, “Soyeon! Bring an ice pack, now!”

Within moments, Soyeon rushed in with the ice pack. I took it, carefully pressing it to her ankle. She yelped, hands flying to grip my arm as her face scrunched in discomfort. I could feel her fingers clenching onto me, her vulnerability cutting through me in a way I couldn’t ignore.

I was about to reassure her, tell her to relax, when her gaze softened, her grip loosened, and something in her whole demeanor changed. Her eyes went wide and innocent, and I realized she looked… like a child.

As I knelt in front of her, Miso's soft whimpers tugged at something deep inside me. Her big eyes shimmered with tears as she looked up at me, biting her lip. The usual defiance that sparked in her gaze was gone, replaced by a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before—like a small child lost and hurting.

“Daddy… it hurts so bad,” she whimpered, clutching my arm like it was her only lifeline. Her voice was so small, so innocent, it left me stunned, rooted to the spot.

I swallowed, taken aback. I wasn’t “Daddy” to her—or to anyone. And yet, I couldn’t correct her, couldn’t bring myself to break this fragile moment. Instead, I reached for her ankle, gently holding it as she flinched. “It’s okay,” I said softly, keeping my voice low and comforting. “I’ll make it better, okay?”

She nodded, her lower lip trembling, and her tiny fingers clung to my sleeve. “D-Do you promise, Daddy?” she whispered, her voice so childlike, so trusting.

“Yes,” I murmured, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Daddy promises.” The words felt strange in my mouth, but for her, I would play this role—whatever she needed to feel safe.

When Soyeon brought the ice pack, I carefully pressed it to her swollen ankle, trying to keep my touch as gentle as possible. But as soon as the cold touched her skin, she yelped, her little hands flying to my shirt as she buried her face in my chest. “It’s too cold!” she cried, muffled against me.

“Shhh… I know, I know,” I murmured, rubbing her back. “But it’ll help with the pain. You can be brave, can’t you?”

She sniffled, peeking up at me, her nose scrunched adorably as she nodded. “I’m… I’m brave,” she said, but her voice shook, and she leaned further into my chest, seeking comfort.

For a moment, she stayed like that, and then she pouted, glancing at the couch with a fierce little glare. “That couch is mean,” she declared, crossing her arms with a huff. “It tripped me, Daddy! Made me fall and everything. We should get a new one that’s nice.”

A chuckle slipped out before I could stop it, her words tugging at a smile. “Alright, I’ll have a word with it,” I said, playing along. “But maybe next time, don’t jump around on it?”

She scrunched her nose, looking up at me with wide, questioning eyes. “But… but they kissed, Daddy! Right there!” She pointed toward the TV, her face lighting up with the memory. “Just like in a fairytale! And they’re gonna live happily ever after. Just like Snowball says.”

“Snowball says that, huh?” I asked, amusement softening my voice as I glanced at the stuffed bunny on the table. “Snowball seems pretty smart.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, nodding solemnly as if sharing a great secret. “Snowball says if people kiss like that, they’re gonna be happy forever.” Her little fingers clutched my hand tighter, and her gaze turned pleading. “Do… do you think I’ll be happy forever too, Daddy?”

The question struck a chord in me, and I felt a sudden weight in my chest. This innocent girl, sitting here, looking at me with so much hope, so much trust—I didn’t know how to answer. But I wanted to give her something. “Yes,” I said, my voice softer than I’d intended. “You’ll be happy, Miso. I’ll make sure of it.”

She smiled, a bright, childlike grin that melted something inside me. “Daddy, you’re like the prince in my book! The one that saves the princess when she’s scared.” She looked at me with pure, unfiltered admiration, her gaze shining as if I really were the hero of her story.

I swallowed, unsure of what to say. Me, a prince? The thought was almost laughable. But seeing her look at me like that, like I could actually protect her from the world’s darkness—I didn’t want to let her down.

Her hand reached up, and she touched my cheek with the gentlest brush of her fingers. “Daddy… will you carry me to my room?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, filled with innocence. “My ankle hurts too much to walk. And I want Snowball… I need Snowball…”

I felt my pulse stutter. I held her a little tighter, unsure why that simple statement affected me so much. It was nothing—just the rambling of a girl who seemed lost in some childlike state, but somehow, it felt like more than that.

Nodding, I slid my arms under her, lifting her as she nestled against my chest, her face tucked into my neck. Her small fingers curled into my shirt, and as I carried her, she let out a soft, content sigh. “You smell nice, Daddy… like flowers and something warm.”

The corners of my mouth lifted, her words filling me with a strange, unfamiliar warmth. “Flowers, huh?” I asked, amusement mingling with something softer. “Maybe a prince who smells like flowers, then?”

She giggled softly, hiding her face in my shoulder. “Mm-hmm. Like a fairytale prince.” Her little fingers traced patterns against my chest as she whispered, “Thank you, Daddy. For being here. I feel safe when you’re here.”

We reached her room, and I gently laid her down on the bed, tucking her under the blankets. As I started to step back, her hand shot out, clutching mine with a desperate grip. “Don’t go yet, Daddy. It still hurts…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze wide and pleading.

I knelt beside her bed, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Okay. I’ll stay,” I said, my voice soft. “Anything else you need?”

She bit her lip, looking at me with a hesitant smile. “Could… could you kiss my boo-boo? Mommy used to, and it always made it feel better.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes full of childlike trust.

My heart clenched at the innocence in her request, and I nodded, leaning down to place the gentlest kiss on her ankle. Her eyes sparkled,   She let out a soft, relieved sigh, her face relaxing as she looked up at me with that trusting gaze that did things to me I couldn’t even name.

A shy smile lighting up her face as she murmured, “Thank you, Daddy” she murmured, her voice like a featherlight whisper as she clutched my hand. “Now… now you can bring Snowball.””

I nodded, reaching over to grab the stuffed animal on her bedside table and placing it in her arms.

I handed her Snowball, watching as she clutched the stuffed bunny close, pressing a kiss to its head. “Snowball says thank you too,” she whispered, already drifting into sleep, her voice filled with sleepy contentment.

She looked up at me one last time, her eyes heavy with drowsiness. “Daddy… will you stay until I fall asleep? Just like Mommy used to?”

“Yes, Miso,” I murmured, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I’ll be right here.”

As her breathing evened out, I watched her sleep, the innocence of her childlike trust breaking through the ice around my heart. This girl, this delicate creature, had somehow become my responsibility, her small hand still clutching mine.

I felt something inside me break, or maybe heal, I wasn’t sure which. I couldn’t refuse her, not like this. Nodding, I sat at the edge of her bed, watching as her eyes slowly fluttered shut, her breathing evening out. Her hand stayed wrapped around mine, her fingers soft and small.

I sat there for a long time, longer than I needed to, watching the peacefulness that seemed to settle over her as she slept. There was something unbearably gentle in that moment, something that made me feel exposed, vulnerable, in a way I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

For the first time, I felt something I couldn’t explain—a fierce need to protect her, to keep her safe from everything that had ever hurt her. As I sat there, watching her sleep, I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t let anyone, not even myself, shatter the fragile trust she’d placed in me.

As I finally pulled away and left her room, I found my mind racing, replaying every small moment, every innocent smile, every trusting gaze. And for the first time, I found myself wondering if maybe—just maybe—I was starting to care for her.

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

Hey, my lovely little chaos squad! 😘✨

Can we take a moment to appreciate the rollercoaster of emotions we’re about to dive into? Like, this chapter... Oh my goodness! Taehyung was not ready for Little Space Miso’s adorable, chaotic energy, and honestly, neither was I! 😂 I mean, here he is, our cold, stoic mafia king, suddenly thrown into the role of Daddy Prince Charming just because Miso looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes. Talk about a plot twist he never saw coming! 🤣💀

Picture Taehyung’s face while Miso clings to his sleeve, pouts like a toddler, and demands a kiss for her “boo-boo.” I’m telling you, I almost fell out of my chair just imagining his internal freak-out! 😂 Like, Taehyung honey, you signed up for power and control, but guess what? You just became “Daddy TaeTae” to the world’s cutest little mafia princess! 😂👑💖

I couldn’t stop laughing while writing this because every time he tries to keep his cool, Miso just hits him with those puppy eyes and he melts a little more. 🥹💕 And don’t even get me started on her little demands and cute requests! It’s like she’s secretly plotting his downfall with pure fluff and innocence. 😂🐻✨

So, thank you all SO much for sticking with me through this story! Your comments give me life, and your reactions make every late-night writing session and every coffee-fueled paragraph totally worth it. 🥰☕ Keep those theories and reactions coming, because I live for them, honestly! And if you found Taehyung’s “Daddy Prince” moment even half as funny as I did, well, we’re all in for a fun, laughter-filled ride together!

So buckle up, snuggle in, and get ready for more fluff, sass, and Daddy TaeTae moments ahead! 🥂😂👑

With all the love and laughing fits,
StarlitWings 🌌