Hey there, my amazing readers! 🌟

Okay, let’s have a little heart-to-heart before you dive into this chapter. I know you’re reading (yes, I see those silent readers 👀), but... WHERE ARE THE COMMENTS? Seriously, guys, it’s like crickets out here. 🦗💔

Don’t be shy! I’m not asking for an essay (though if you want to, I won’t stop you). Just drop a little “OMG,” “Wow,” or even “Taehyung is such a mood” in the comments! Your reactions fuel me like coffee fuels a writer during a deadline. And trust me, I need that caffeine boost. ☕✨

Also, don’t forget to smash that vote button like you’re declaring your love for this story! Votes are like hugs for writers—except less awkward and way more appreciated.

Alright, enough of my rambling. Go read the chapter, and don’t forget to leave me a little love in the comments, okay?

Much love and sass,
StarlitWings ✨

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★★★★★

The soft hum of the car’s engine purred through the stillness of the evening as Taehyung and Miso made their way to the black sedan parked outside . Taehyung, ever the gentleman even in his cold, calculated way, extended his hand to Miso as they approached the vehicle. Miso hesitated for a moment, her eyes glinting with that familiar spark of sass before she accepted his hand, her fingers brushing against his, warm and delicate.

As they reached the car, Yin, dressed sharply in a tailored black suit, moved to the passenger seat while Yang, with his ever-imposing aura, took the driver’s seat.  Once Taehyung joined Miso in the back seat,Without a word, Yang started the car, the rumble of the engine breaking the silence. The air inside the car was thick, not with tension, but with the unspoken energy that always seemed to exist between Miso and Taehyung. Gliding through the quiet streets of Seoul. The city lights reflected off the car windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors inside the cabin. Miso leaned her head slightly against the window, her eyes tracing the vibrant patterns of the bustling cityscape.

Her gaze shifted briefly to Taehyung, his profile illuminated by the passing lights. His expression was calm, his focus distant yet sharp, as though he were contemplating a hundred different things at once. The black mask rested on his lap, waiting for the right moment.

Miso gazed out the tinted window, the city lights painting fleeting patterns on her serene face. She caught Taehyung’s reflection in the glass—his sharp jawline, his eyes cold and calculating. Yet tonight, there was something more in his expression, a flicker of intrigue, or perhaps admiration, as he glanced at her before turning his gaze forward.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Miso remarked, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness.

Taehyung let out a low chuckle, more of an exhale. “Enjoying the peace while it lasts,” he replied, his deep voice laced with amusement.

Yin, overhearing their brief exchange, smirked slightly but kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “I’ve been to galas before, but the way everyone’s hyping this one makes me think I’m walking into a battlefield instead of a ballroom.”

Taehyung smirked, his gaze not leaving the window. “In a way, you are,” he replied, his tone carrying a trace of amusement.

Miso arched a brow, intrigued. “A battlefield? Should I have brought a weapon then?”

“You already have one,” Taehyung said smoothly, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes flickered briefly to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Your words.”

She laughed lightly, the sound breaking through the quiet hum of the car. “Touché, Mr. Kim.”

The car slowed as they neared their destination. The Kim Hotel, a towering symbol of luxury and opulence, loomed ahead. Its golden lights shone brightly against the night sky, the grand entrance already teeming with media personnel, their cameras flashing incessantly as high-profile guests arrived.

Yin was the first to step out, his presence commanding as he moved to open Taehyung’s door. Taehyung exited gracefully, adjusting the cuffs of his suit before extending a hand toward Miso.

“Your turn,” he said softly, his voice carrying an edge of authority.

Miso placed her hand in his, her movements poised yet deliberate as she stepped out of the car. The cool night air kissed her skin, the weight of dozens of eyes immediately falling upon her.

As soon as Taehyung and Miso stepped out of the sleek black sedan, a wave of chaos hit them. The flashing cameras were relentless, their light cutting through the night as if it were midday. Reporters surged forward, their microphones extended like weapons, voices rising in a cacophony of demanding questions.

“Mr. Kim, why wasn’t your marriage announced publicly?”
“Mrs. Kim, is it true you’re the only daughter of Busan’s richest businessman, Kim Jaehyun?”
“Was this marriage a strategic alliance between the Kim families?”
“Mr. Kim, why wasn’t there a public wedding? Is there something you’re hiding?”
“Mrs. Kim, what is your relationship with your father like? Did he orchestrate this marriage?”
“Are there plans to merge Kim Enterprises with Busan’s conglomerate?”

The barrage of questions grew louder, each reporter fighting to be heard. Miso’s eyes darted to the crowd, momentarily overwhelmed by the intensity. The spotlight had always been on her father, not her, and now, being at the center of attention was unsettling. She instinctively tightened her grip on Taehyung’s arm, seeking a semblance of grounding amidst the chaos.

Taehyung, however, was the picture of calm. His sharp features remained impassive, his cold, piercing gaze sweeping across the crowd. His aura of authority was enough to silence a few voices, but the most persistent reporters pressed on.

“Mrs. Kim, does your father approve of this marriage? Rumor has it he was the one who arranged it,” one reporter asked loudly, her voice cutting through the din.

“Mr. Kim, how do you feel about marrying into such a powerful family from Busan?” another chimed in.

Taehyung’s jaw tightened. His patience, already thin, was nearing its breaking point. His cold, dark eyes zeroed in on the reporter who had dared to question his feelings. “I have no comment,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. The subtle edge of warning in his tone made the reporter falter slightly.

But the questions didn’t stop. “Mrs. Kim, do you have any plans to join the business world like your father?”
“Mr. Kim, are there talks of merging your companies to dominate the market?”

Taehyung’s lips curled into a faint, sardonic smirk. “My personal life is not for public discussion,” he said sharply, his voice like ice. His gaze swept over the crowd, his cold glare silencing several of the more eager reporters.

Still, one voice persisted. “Mrs. Kim, do you have anything to say about your father’s influence in this marriage?”

“Is the marriage a business arrangement, as rumored?”
“Mr. Kim, are the reports true that this was an arranged marriage?”
“Mrs. Kim, how are you adjusting to your new life?”
“Do you plan to have children soon?”

Miso blinked, momentarily stunned by the overwhelming noise and the barrage of invasive questions. She tightened her grip on Taehyung’s arm instinctively, her usually sharp wit momentarily silenced by the relentless crowd.

Taehyung, however, remained unfazed. His tall frame exuded an aura of dominance, his sharp features masked in cold indifference. He stood still, his piercing gaze sweeping over the sea of reporters. His lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

“There will be no comments regarding my personal life,” he said, his tone low but firm, carrying a quiet authority that made even the boldest reporters hesitate.

But the reporters weren’t easily deterred. “Mr. Kim, your silence only fuels speculation. Was this marriage purely for business gains?” one of them pressed, her voice carrying over the others.

Another reporter chimed in, “Why didn’t you host a grand public wedding, considering your family’s stature? Was there a specific reason for keeping it private?”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened. His sharp eyes, now slightly narrowed, landed on the reporter who had asked. His gaze was icy, his glare powerful enough to send a shiver down anyone’s spine.

“It’s none of your concern,” he said coolly, his tone carrying a warning. The sharp edge in his voice made the reporters falter, but only for a moment.

But before the questions could escalate further, Taehyung’s patience wore thin.

“That’s enough,” he said sharply, his voice laced with finality. “No more questions.”

As the reporters clamored for more, his bodyguards moved into action. A wall of black-suited men emerged, positioning themselves between the couple and the throng of reporters. “Step back!” one of them barked, his deep voice booming.

Miso let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as the bodyguards began to clear a path. She glanced up at Taehyung, who remained stoic, his expression unreadable as they were guided toward the entrance.

The reporters, undeterred by the imposing guards, continued shouting their questions, The reporters, though momentarily subdued, continued shouting questions as the couple made their way through the cleared path. “Mr. Kim, just one more question—”
“Mrs. Kim, is it true your father’s approval came with conditions?” But their voices faded into the background as the couple neared the grand doors of the hotel.

Taehyung ignored them, his cold expression unyielding. Once they reached the grand doors of the luxurious hotel, the muffled sound of the media frenzy faded behind them.

Inside, Miso sighed deeply, a mix of relief and exasperation escaping her lips. “Well,” she muttered, her tone laced with sarcasm, “that was fun. Do they always ask such ridiculously invasive questions?”

Taehyung smirked faintly, his dark eyes flicking toward her. “You’ll get used to it,” he replied, his voice calm and low. “And if you don’t…” He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “You might want to brace yourself. This is only the beginning.”

Miso arched a brow, her usual sass returning. “Oh, wonderful. Next time, maybe I should hand them a written report about my life. Would save everyone the trouble.”

Taehyung chuckled softly, a rare sound that made Miso glance at him in surprise. “Careful, Mrs. Kim. That sarcasm of yours might just get you more attention.” he said, gesturing toward the ornate piece in her hand. “Put on your mask,You’ll need it now.”

“And you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He raised his sleek black mask, the intricate design accentuating his sharp features. “I’ll wear mine too. It’s all part of the performance.”

Miso nodded, slipping the intricate white mask over her face. Its delicate feathers and intricate design complemented her ethereal dress perfectly, giving her an otherworldly allure. Taehyung followed suit, donning his sleek black mask, which only added to his enigmatic aura.

With the media frenzy now behind them, the two made their way toward the gala hall, their steps echoing softly against the marble floors. Taehyung’s hand rested lightly on Miso’s lower back, guiding her with a subtle but firm gesture. Together,They stepped into the hotel, the opulent interior even more breathtaking than Miso had imagined. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their light casting a warm, golden glow over the grand marble floors. The air buzzed with the chatter of the elite, their laughter and conversations blending into a symphony of wealth and power.

Miso glanced sideways at Taehyung, her lips curving into a sly smile beneath her mask. “So, Mr. Kim, ready to conquer the battlefield?”

Taehyung’s smirk deepened, his hand resting lightly on her lower back as they walked toward the grand ballroom. “Always.”

As the grand doors to the gala hall opened, all eyes turned toward the striking couple who had just entered. The room fell silent for a moment, the sheer presence of Taehyung and Miso stealing the attention of every soul in the room. Together, they stepped into the spotlight, a perfect blend of elegance and power, ready to take on whatever the night had in store.

----

The grand gala hall shimmered with an ethereal glow, every inch of the space a testament to luxury and opulence. The chandeliers above sparkled like constellations, casting their golden light over the sea of impeccably dressed guests. Conversations hummed softly, glasses clinked, and the rich scent of expensive perfumes lingered in the air. The theme of the evening was evident in the stark contrast of black gowns and white suits, creating a monochromatic elegance that screamed uniformity.

But all that perfection shattered the moment Kim Taehyung and his wife, Miso, entered the hall.

Heads turned almost in unison, a ripple of surprise and intrigue washing over the crowd. Miso, clad in an exquisite white gown that hugged her figure with the perfect balance of boldness and sophistication, stood out like a beacon. The gown, detailed with intricate embroidery and pearls, shimmered with every movement, radiating confidence and defiance. Her hair cascaded down her back, framing her sharp, doll-like features. She was breathtaking. Beside her, Taehyung strode with the commanding presence of a king. His black suit, tailored to perfection, exuded power, with the subtle sheen of the fabric catching the light. The outfit’s simplicity was deceptive, for it was a statement in itself—a deliberate rebellion against the evening's theme.

The contrast they presented was undeniable. Where others adhered to tradition, they stood as a united front of defiance and authority.

The whispers started immediately.

“Isn’t that Kim Taehyung and his wife?”
“They’ve completely ignored the theme. He’s in black, and she’s in white.”
“Typical Taehyung. He doesn’t follow rules; he creates them.”
“She’s stunning. No wonder everyone’s talking about her.”

Miso caught the hushed comments, the curious and judgmental stares, but instead of shying away, she welcomed them. Her lips curved into a sly, confident smirk as she looped her arm through Taehyung’s. If they wanted to talk, she’d give them something to talk about.

Taehyung’s sharp gaze scanned the room, landing on his older brother, Namjoon, who stood near the bar, engaged in conversation with a few high-profile figures. With a slight tilt of his head, he gestured for Miso to follow him. Together, they moved through the room like a storm cutting through a still night, their aura demanding attention and parting the crowd in their wake.

“Hyung,” Taehyung greeted, his deep voice cutting through the low hum of the gala.

Namjoon turned, his brows lifting slightly as his eyes swept over them. A faint smirk played on his lips. “Taehyung. Miso,” he said smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “You two have certainly stolen the spotlight tonight.”

Miso’s smirk deepened. “Stolen? I prefer ‘claimed,’ Namjoon-ssi. We’re just giving them something memorable to talk about.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Always so bold, Miso. I should’ve expected nothing less.”

Taehyung’s expression remained impassive, though his lips twitched slightly. “Where’s Father?” he asked, ignoring Namjoon’s comment.

Namjoon gestured toward the center of the room, where Kim Taemoo stood, his presence as domineering as ever, surrounded by a circle of influential figures. “He’s over there. Be warned, he’s already noticed your... unique interpretation of the dress code.”

Taehyung’s eyes darkened slightly, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Then we won’t have to waste time.”

As they walked toward Taemoo, Taehyung leaned closer to Miso, his voice dropping to a warning tone. “Remember what I said earlier. Don’t provoke him. This isn’t the time or place for your antics.Don’t say or do anything reckless in front of him. This isn’t the place for your games.”

Miso arched a brow, her smirk unwavering. “Reckless? Me? I’m always on my best behavior. And seriously Antics? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung shot her a warning glance. “I mean it, Miso.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll behave... unless, of course, he says something first. Then all bets are off.”

Before Taehyung could respond, they reached his father. Kim Taemoo turned toward them, his sharp features a mirror of Taehyung’s, though aged and hardened by years of ruthless leadership. His eyes swept over them, lingering on their outfits.

“Taehyung. Miso,” he greeted, his tone as cold as the winter wind. His gaze lingered disapprovingly on their attire. “I see the two of you have decided to make a spectacle of yourselves tonight,Again. Swapping the theme? How juvenile.”

Miso’s lips parted, a sassy retort ready to spill, but before she could speak, Taehyung cut in.

“Enough,I don’t remember asking for anyone’s approval.” His voice was a low growl, sharp and cutting. His dark eyes bore into his father’s. “We didn’t come here for your commentary on our clothes.”

Taemoo’s gaze hardened. “This is a family event, Taehyung. Your choices reflect on all of us. Do you always have to—”

“I’m not interested in a lecture, especially not here. If you have something to say, save it for later. Right now, my wife and I are here as representatives of this family, and we will do so on our terms. Father?” Taehyung interrupted, his voice dropping further into dangerous territory. “Remind you that I’m not your puppet? That I make my own decisions? Miso is my wife. What she wears, what I wear—it’s our choice, not yours. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you keep it to yourself. This isn’t the place for a scene.”

Taemoo’s jaw tightened, his cold gaze shifting to Miso, who met it head-on with a raised brow and a challenging. “You certainly know how to make a statement,” he said, his tone clipped.

Miso’s eyes gleamed with mischief, but she remained silent, sensing Taehyung’s warning glance.

Taehyung straightened, his voice taking on a commanding edge. “Miso doesn’t need anyone’s approval, least of all yours. She’s my wife, and she represents me. If she chooses to stand out, it’s because she has every right to. Just as I. If our choices stand out, it’s because they’re meant to. We’re not here to blend in. We’re here to lead.”

For a moment, the tension between father and son was thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Taemoo exhaled sharply, his displeasure evident.

“Very well,” he said curtly. “But don’t think our conversation is over.”

“Of course,” Taehyung replied coldly.

Taemoo turned away without another word, moving to greet another group of guests.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Miso let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes. “Well, that was delightful. He’s such a ray of sunshine, isn’t he?”

Taehyung shot her a look. “Don’t start.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything,” Miso replied innocently, though the mischief in her eyes was impossible to miss.

“You were about to,” Taehyung muttered, though the faintest hint of amusement flickered across his face.

Miso smirked. “You know, for someone who tells me not to provoke, you do a pretty good job of it yourself.”

Taehyung shook his head, his lips twitching despite himself. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible is just another word for extraordinary,” Miso quipped, her sass fully intact.

Taehyung didn’t reply, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. Together, they made their way deeper into the gala, their presence commanding attention with every step. The whispers and stares followed them, but neither seemed to care. They were untouchable, a power couple who thrived on the chaos they left in their wake.

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Author’s Note:

Hello, my lovely readers! 🌟

First of all, thank you for making it this far in the story. Your support means everything to me, and I truly appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to read and enjoy the world I’m creating with Taehyung and Miso. Writing this story has been such a rollercoaster ride, filled with emotions, twists, and turns that I cannot wait to share with all of you.

Now, let’s talk about something important—your COMMENTS and VOTES! 💬✨
I see so many of you are reading, but where are your voices? Your comments are like fuel to my writing engine. They motivate me, give me new perspectives, and sometimes even inspire ideas for the story. Even a simple "Love this chapter!" or "Wow, Miso is a queen!" makes a world of difference to me. It lets me know that you’re enjoying the story and are excited about what’s coming next. Writing is a lonely journey at times, but your engagement makes it feel like a shared experience.

And votes—oh, those shiny stars! ⭐ If you’re loving what you’re reading, please don’t forget to tap that little star at the top. It might seem small, but it’s HUGE for me as a writer. It helps the story reach more readers and encourages me to pour even more love and effort into each chapter. So, if you’re reading this, go ahead and show some love by voting and leaving a comment.

Now, about the plot—yes, I know there are so many things happening! Taehyung and Miso’s story is layered with drama, tension, love, and power struggles, and trust me, it’s all going to come together beautifully. I have so much planned—plot twists, character growth, and some moments that will leave you gasping. So, I ask you to be patient and stay with me. This is a journey, and I promise the destination will be worth it.

Also, I want to hear from YOU. What do you think about the characters so far? Are you loving Miso’s sassiness and Taehyung’s commanding presence? What about their dynamic? Do you have any theories about what’s coming next? Let me know in the comments!

Lastly, I want to remind you all that this story is for YOU. I’m pouring my heart into it, and your feedback is what keeps me going. So don’t be shy! Let’s make this story an unforgettable experience together.

Until the next chapter, stay safe, stay happy, and keep reading! Love you all to the moon and back! 💖

Yours truly,
StarlitWings ✨