The days leading up to the Kim Annual Gala had passed in an unsteady rhythm, marked by the unpredictable dynamics between Taehyung and Miso. Taehyung’s recent behavior—his bold flirtations and unexpected playfulness—had left Miso in a constant state of guarded sass. But today, as the morning light streamed into the penthouse, it was as if those fleeting moments of levity had never existed.

Taehyung was back to his usual self—cold, sharp, and calculating.

---

Miso was curled up on the plush couch in the penthouse living room, sipping her morning tea, dressed in an oversized hoodie and shorts. The sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, making the room seem almost serene despite the unspoken tension hanging in the air. She had noticed the slight shift in Taehyung’s demeanor over the past few days—his sharp glances and the way his jaw clenched when he thought she wasn’t looking.

The sound of his polished leather shoes against the marble floor pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced up as Taehyung entered, his presence commanding as always. He was already dressed for work in a perfectly tailored black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his lean frame. His tie was a deep crimson, a subtle yet deliberate statement of power.

Without preamble, he stopped in front of her. “Be ready by seven tonight,I’ll pick you up for the gala.” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Miso raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch as she sipped her tea. “Good morning to you too, husband,” she replied dryly. “Do I get a please with that?”

He ignored her sarcasm, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This isn’t up for negotiation. Tonight is the Kim Annual Gala. Your first public appearance as my wife.”

The word wife hung in the air, heavy with implications she wasn’t sure she liked.

“And?” she prompted, setting her cup down with deliberate care.

“And,” Taehyung continued, his voice hardening, “it’s imperative that you don’t cause a scene. I don’t want any antics or outbursts that could make people think you’re weak—or worse, make me look weak. The people attending tonight are not forgiving. If they sense vulnerability, they’ll exploit it.”

Miso tilted her head, her smirk widening as she tapped her fingers against the armrest. “Do I look like someone who makes herself a target?”

Taehyung’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ve been known to act... unpredictably.”

She snorted, crossing her legs. “Well, don’t worry, Mr Mafia. I’ll be on my best behavior. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you, now would I?”

His jaw tightened at her mocking tone, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and delivered his final directive. “My father will be there. Your father too. Consider that before you decide to embarrass yourself—or me.”

Her smirk softened, but only slightly. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself. I don’t need reminders from you.”

For a moment, their gazes locked, an unspoken challenge passing between them. Then, without another word, Taehyung turned on his heel and strode toward the door. Yin  followed silently, their expressions neutral but their presence commanding.

As the door closed behind them, Miso leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly. “Well, this should be fun,” she muttered.

---

After Taehyung’s departure, Miso found herself wandering into the kitchen, where Yang was leaning casually against the counter, scrolling through his phone.

“Yang,” she began, hopping onto a barstool, “tell me about this gala. How big of a deal is it?”

Yang turned to her, his usually stoic expression softening slightly. He knew Miso’s question wasn’t just curiosity; she genuinely wanted to understand the stakes.

Yang looked up, his sharp eyes assessing her for a moment before he spoke. “It’s the biggest event of the year for the Kims,” he said simply. “Bigger than anything you’ve attended with him before.”

Miso raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘bigger.’”

“Big as in everyone who matters will be there . It’s where everyone important shows up,” Yang explained. “From the underworld to the business world and even the political elite. It’s not just a social gathering; it’s a display of power. The Kims use this event to remind everyone why they’re at the top. It’s about solidifying alliances, testing loyalties, and forging new partnerships.”

She leaned her chin on her hand, her expression thoughtful. “So, a giant ego boost for the family?, it’s less about champagne and dancing and more about posturing and scheming?”

Yang’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “You could say that. But it’s more than just posturing. This event sets the tone for the Kims’ standing in both the underworld and the legitimate world. Your role tonight is crucial.”

Miso straightened, her smirk fading slightly. “My role?”

He nodded. “Your presence is mandatory because it sends a message. Mr. Kim himself told Boss that you must attend. People will be watching you just as much as they’ll be watching him. Any misstep from you could give his enemies the opening they need.If you slip up, it’ll reflect on Taehyung. And believe me, there are plenty of people waiting for him to falter.Everyone bows to Taehyung in public, but behind his back? They’re looking for any opportunity to drag him down.”

She crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. “So, no pressure, huh?”

Yang’s gaze softened slightly. “Look, Miso. I know you don’t like being told what to do, but just for one night, try not to test his patience. You don’t want to see the fallout. If you do something to upset him, it won’t just affect you. It’ll affect him—and that’s exactly what his enemies want.”

Miso sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. I’ll play nice. But only because I don’t want to embarrass myself. I have my grace, my aura, and trust me, I know how to use them.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fine, fine. But tell me, are you going to be there? Or am I going to have to survive this circus alone?”

Yang shook his head. “I’ll be outside. Security detail.”

Miso pouted, folding her arms. “I’ll miss you. Who’s going to keep me entertained?”

Yang chuckled, his laughter low and warm. “ Don't worry, you won’t be bored. Taehyung’s friends will be there. You’ll probably enjoy their company.You’ll survive.”

Her pout turned into a mischievous grin. “Hmm, fine. But I need to know—what’s the theme this year?”

“Black and white masquerade ball,Women wear black, and men wear white.” Yang replied. “Namjoon  planned it, so you can expect it to be over the top. Are you wearing that dress you bought the other day, or do you need anything else? Taehyung said I could take you shopping if you want.”

Miso waved her hand dismissively, her grin widening. “No need. I already have the perfect dress in mind.”

Yang raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? ”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s one thing I need you to do for me.”

Yang’s eyes widened slightly as she whispered something in his ear. When she pulled back, his expression was a mix of shock and amusement. He let out a soft laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” she replied with a wink, hopping off the barstool and heading toward her room.

As the door closed behind her, Yang shook his head, chuckling softly. “She’s going to give him a heart attack.” he muttered under his breath.

---

Taehyung adjusted the cuffs of his sleek black tuxedo, his reflection in the elevator's mirrored walls exuding power and precision. The tailored fit, sharp lines, and his decision to wear black—despite the gala theme requiring men to wear white—was his way of making a statement. He wasn’t someone who followed rules set by others; he created his own. The world should expect nothing less from the Kim family’s mafia king.

As the elevator doors opened, Taehyung stepped into the lavish corridor, his steps measured and purposeful. His thoughts drifted to the gala ahead and the role his wife, Miso, would play. This was her first major public appearance as his wife. She needed to understand that appearances mattered, especially in their world. Yet, Taehyung couldn’t help but recall her defiance, the spark in her eyes that constantly challenged him. Would she cooperate tonight, or would she find a way to push his buttons again?

Reaching the living room, Taehyung halted at the entrance. His sharp eyes scanned the room, but the sight before him made him stop short, his breath catching in his throat.

Miso stood at the center of the room, illuminated by the soft golden glow of the chandelier above. For a moment, Taehyung thought he was dreaming. She was a vision—a goddess who seemed to have stepped out of another world.

Her dress was unlike anything he had expected. She was supposed to wear black like all the other women attending the gala, but instead, she stood there in pure white. Miso’s dress was a vision of ethereal elegance, designed to turn heads and leave an indelible impression. The gown was a pristine white, crafted with layers of soft, airy fabric that seemed to float with her every movement. The high-low silhouette added a modern twist to its otherwise fairytale aesthetic, the cascading hemline in the back flowing like a waterfall while the front showcased her delicate, toned legs.

The off-the-shoulder neckline revealed her graceful collarbones and shoulders, framed by voluminous puffed sleeves that ended just above her wrists, adding a touch of drama to the ensemble. The bodice fit snugly, sculpting her figure while the skirt flared out, creating a playful yet sophisticated shape. Each layer of tulle was adorned with subtle, intricate details that caught the light, making her seem as though she was glowing under the dim lighting.

Her mask was a masterpiece in itself, white and feathered, with intricate lacework that added a mysterious charm to her look. Feathers sprouted delicately from one side of the mask, giving her an almost angelic appearance, yet the way she carried herself exuded confidence and boldness.

The skirt, layers of cascading tulle, gave the impression that she was floating. Each movement she made caused the fabric to sway lightly, like clouds shifting in the wind.

Her face was partially concealed by an intricately designed white mask adorned with delicate feathers that extended gracefully to one side. Her sparkling choker added an air of regal sophistication, its glitter catching the soft light. Even with the mask obscuring part of her face, her piercing gaze shone through—confident, bold, and utterly unshaken.

To complete the look, her feet were clad in dainty heels, their thin straps wrapping around her ankles, emphasizing her femininity. Her hair was styled elegantly, with soft waves that framed her face, and a few strands tucked neatly to complement the regal air she carried. This wasn’t just a dress—it was a statement, and Miso wore it with the kind of poise that left no room for doubt: she intended to stand out, no matter the rules of the evening.

For a fleeting moment, Taehyung forgot to breathe.

Miso turned to face him fully, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. Her gaze, steady and unflinching, met his.

“You’re late,” she remarked casually, her voice laced with amusement.

Taehyung took a step forward, still trying to process what he was seeing. His deep voice came out slower than usual, his thoughts tangled. “What… are you wearing?”

“A dress,” she replied with feigned innocence, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

“You’re supposed to wear black,” he stated, his tone sharper now, though his astonishment was clear in his dark eyes.

“And you were supposed to wear white,” she countered effortlessly, gesturing toward his black tuxedo. “But here we are, breaking the rules together.”

Her words struck him like a mirror reflecting his own defiance. She had chosen white for the same reason he had chosen black—to stand apart from the crowd. It wasn’t just about rebellion; it was about control, power, and individuality.

“You’re going to draw attention,” he said, his voice quieter this time, edged with warning.

“Good,” she replied, stepping closer, her dress swaying softly with her movements. “Isn’t that the point?”

Taehyung’s gaze swept over her again, from the delicate feathers of her mask to the flowing layers of her dress. She wasn’t just stunning—she was breathtaking, as though she belonged to another realm entirely. But it wasn’t just her appearance that had him captivated. It was her audacity, the way she held her ground against him, meeting his intensity head-on.

“You always find a way to make things difficult,” he muttered, his tone low and laced with frustration.

“Difficult?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow. “I’d call it interesting. Don’t you think it suits me?”

Taehyung’s lips parted, but no words came immediately. His mind was in turmoil. She was right—it did suit her. The dress, the mask, the unapologetic confidence—it was quintessentially Miso. Yet, the realization unsettled him. She was everything he admired and everything he feared wrapped into one.

“It’s more than that,” he admitted finally, his voice softer but still firm. “You’re unbelievable.”

Her smirk softened into something gentler, almost playful. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He took another step closer, the distance between them diminishing. “Do you realize what tonight means? The eyes of the underworld and the business elite will be on us. On you. This isn’t just about appearances, Miso. One wrong move, and—”

“Relax, Taehyung,” she interrupted, her tone steady yet teasing. “I know what’s at stake. I won’t embarrass you. But I also won’t pretend to be something I’m not. I’ll play my part—my way.”

Her confidence both infuriated and fascinated him. She had a way of slipping through his control, yet somehow grounding him at the same time.

Taehyung’s gaze lingered on Miso, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as her words echoed in his mind. He took a deep breath, the initial wave of astonishment finally subsiding, leaving behind amusement at her defiance. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

Miso, unfazed by his reaction, tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a playful grin. “I know,” she replied, her voice dripping with sass. “But you just said that a moment ago. Are you running out of words, Mr. Kim?” Her tone was teasing, her confidence radiating as she adjusted the delicate feathers of her white mask.

Taehyung shook his head, his amusement growing. “You’re something else,” he replied, his deep voice laced with humor. He reached up and adjusted his own mask—a sleek black one with sharp angles that accentuated his chiseled features and added an air of mystery to his already intimidating presence.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Miso raised an eyebrow, her hands lightly brushing the soft layers of her dress. Her mask, adorned with feathers and intricate designs, gave her an almost ethereal look, but she wore it with a boldness that only she could.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Taehyung responded, his tone carrying an undertone of amusement. His dark eyes flickered with something unspoken as he stepped closer to her, the scent of her perfume enveloping him. “But I have one suggestion,” he added, gesturing toward her mask. “You can take that off for now. Save it for when we get to the venue.”

Miso’s lips pursed as she considered his words, her expression thoughtful. “Why? Don’t want people to see me looking like this before we arrive?” she teased, her voice light but edged with sarcasm.

Taehyung chuckled again, the sound deep and warm. “Not exactly,” he replied, his gaze meeting hers. “I’d rather you didn’t trip on your dress or bump into something before we even make it to the gala. The mask can wait.”

Miso narrowed her eyes at him, the hint of a pout forming on her lips. “Are you calling me clumsy?” she demanded, her tone indignant yet playful.

“Maybe,” Taehyung replied, the corners of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a grin. “But I’m just being practical. For once.”

Rolling her eyes, Miso reached up and carefully removed her mask, holding it delicately in her hands. “Fine,” she said, her voice tinged with mock exasperation. “But only because I don’t want to hear you nagging me all night.”

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head. “Nagging? You make me sound like some grumpy old man,” he remarked, his tone dry yet amused.

“If the shoe fits…” Miso shot back, her grin returning as she turned on her heel and made her way toward the door. Her dress swayed with every step, the soft layers of tulle catching the light and making her look like she was gliding.

Taehyung watched her, his dark eyes following her every move. He couldn’t help but admire her confidence, her audacity, and the way she always managed to keep him on his toes. As much as she drove him crazy, he found himself drawn to her unpredictability.

“Let’s go, Mr. Kim,” Miso called over her shoulder, throwing him a challenging look. “Wouldn’t want to keep the world waiting, would we?”

Taehyung shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed her. “You’re impossible,” he muttered under his breath, his tone filled with amusement.

“And yet, here you are,” Miso replied without missing a beat, her voice carrying a hint of triumph.

Taehyung couldn’t argue with that. She was right—he was here, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. As they stepped out together, the contrast between them was stark but harmonious. Him in his sharp black tuxedo and sleek mask, and her in her angelic white dress, holding her mask in her delicate hands. Taehyung’s eyes followed her, his thoughts racing. Her defiance, her boldness—it mirrored his own in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Both of them had chosen to break the rules tonight, to stand out. She, in her striking white gown, and he, in his sharp black tuxedo.

Two forces, equally defiant and unapologetic, walking side by side into a world that would soon feel the impact of their presence.

As they made their way to the car, Taehyung couldn’t help but think about the irony of it all. For all their differences, they were alike in the ways that mattered most. Two forces of nature, cloaked in rebellion and grace, stepping into a world that would soon know exactly who they were.

______________________________________

Author's Note:

Hey lovely readers,

Thank you for diving into this chapter with me! I hope you enjoyed the dynamics between Miso and Taehyung as much as I enjoyed writing them. Miso’s bold choice to wear white, defying the theme of the gala, speaks volumes about her personality—strong, unapologetic, and always finding ways to stand out. She is truly a force to be reckoned with, and Taehyung’s reaction? Priceless.

For Miso’s stunning dress, you can refer to the picture at the top to visualize her look perfectly. The elegance, the dramatic flair, and the angelic charm all embody Miso’s ability to captivate everyone around her, including Taehyung. This dress isn’t just clothing; it’s a statement of her defiance and individuality, much like her personality.

Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! What do you think about Miso's boldness and Taehyung’s reaction? And how do you feel about their growing chemistry? Your feedback truly inspires me to bring these characters to life in the best way possible.

Until next time,
StarlitWings