"Sometimes the heart needs to fall, just to rise again stronger."

---

The days after her confrontation with Taehyung felt like they were dragging on in slow motion. Every morning was filled with the same heavy air, the same weight pressing down on her chest. Y/n couldn’t stop replaying the scene on the rooftop over and over in her mind—the look in his eyes when she told him she couldn’t choose him. The way his face had softened with that sadness she couldn’t quite bear to see.

But as much as she tried to push him out of her thoughts, he lingered in every corner of her mind. Taehyung was like a shadow, always there even when she tried to ignore him, and no matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew that a part of her heart still beat only for him.

And that terrified her.

The war between their families was escalating. Every encounter felt like they were inching closer to an inevitable collision. The fragile peace that held everything together was slipping away, and she could feel the tension in the air. People were whispering about the truce between her family and Taehyung’s family, but no one could deny that it was quickly falling apart.

Tonight, she stood in the middle of the mansion, staring at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Her expression was cold, distant. Her hands shook as she adjusted her dress, the fine fabric gliding over her skin like silk. Tonight was supposed to be a formal gathering—one last chance for her to prove herself as loyal to her family, one last chance to solidify her place in the world she’d been born into.

But inside, everything was unraveling.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see Jihoon standing in the doorway. His face was unreadable, the usual calm demeanor that had always been there now masked by something darker.

“You’re not ready,” he said, his voice flat.

Y/n didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she glanced at the clock. The event was starting soon, and she still hadn’t figured out what she was supposed to do.

“I don’t want to go,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, you don’t want to go? This is important, Y/n. Your family is counting on you.”

“I know,” she muttered. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with all of it.”

Jihoon’s expression softened for a moment, but it was gone before she could fully register it. “You don’t have to pretend, Y/n. You’ve always known what this life demands. What it costs.”

“Everything,” she whispered.

Jihoon didn’t respond. Instead, he walked toward her, his presence heavy in the room. “You’re not going to walk away from this. No one does. So stop thinking about what you want, and start thinking about what’s at stake.”

Y/n closed her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat. She was so tired of fighting, of being caught between her family’s expectations and the pull of a love she couldn’t deny. She felt like she was drowning, and there was no one to throw her a lifeline.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I don’t know who I am in all of this.”

Jihoon paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on her. “You’re Y/n. You’ve always been Y/n. No matter what you choose, that will never change.”

The words echoed in her mind as he walked away. Y/n didn’t know if they were meant to comfort her or warn her. All she knew was that she felt more lost than ever before.

---

The night was cold when Y/n arrived at the venue, a grand estate on the outskirts of the city, where the families met in secrecy to discuss terms and alliances. The lights were dim, and the air was thick with tension as she entered. She could feel the eyes of the others on her, their gazes heavy with expectation.

Y/n’s father stood at the head of the room, his posture rigid and commanding. His eyes flickered over to her as she walked in, but his expression remained cold, unreadable.

“Ah, there she is,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of something darker. “My daughter, the prodigal heir.”

Y/n didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she turned her attention to the far side of the room, where Taehyung stood, surrounded by his men. Even from across the room, she could feel the weight of his stare on her. The world seemed to shift when their eyes met, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

He was here. And so was she. Both trapped in this endless game of power and survival.

“Are you prepared for what’s coming, Y/n?” her father’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She snapped her gaze back to him, nodding quickly. “Yes, Father.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Good. This is your moment. Don’t disappoint me.”

Y/n felt a lump rise in her throat. The weight of his words pressed down on her like a heavy stone. She had never been given a choice, never been allowed to choose her path. It had always been about loyalty.

But tonight, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change.

---

The night dragged on, the air thick with unspoken words and fragile alliances. Y/n’s mind kept drifting back to Taehyung, who had yet to make a move. She watched him from across the room, his eyes never leaving her as he conversed with the other leaders. His posture was casual, but there was a fire in his eyes that burned with the same intensity that had always existed between them.

Suddenly, as if the universe had conspired to bring them together once more, their paths crossed in the middle of the room. Taehyung stood before her, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The noise, the people, the tension—it all disappeared, leaving only the two of them.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Taehyung said softly, his voice just loud enough for her to hear over the low hum of conversation.

Y/n took a shaky breath. “Neither did I.”

He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Her heart clenched in her chest, but she fought to keep her composure. “I don’t have a choice, Taehyung. You know that better than anyone.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the world seemed to shift again, as if the room itself was holding its breath. “You always had a choice,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “And you still do.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she reached for him, her hand trembling, and without thinking, pulled him into a kiss.

It was desperate and urgent, a kiss filled with everything they had never said to each other, everything they had buried deep inside. In that kiss, Y/n finally allowed herself to feel what she had denied for so long—the pain, the love, the regret.

And for the first time in years, she felt something real. Something worth fighting for.

—