WARNINGS ⚠️

1.THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION ! And advised for adult audience.

2.𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱.!!!

3.𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁/𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀.!!!

WARNINGS ⚠️

!!IMPORTANT!!

This story is entirely original. Any similarities to other works are coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited and constitutes plagiarism. Respect the author's creativity.

The next day again the usual meeting of the family members was followed inside the grand hall of the Jeon Villa was a space that embodied power. Its high ceilings stretched endlessly, adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and serpents—symbols of dominance and eternity in the underworld. The dark marble floor gleamed under the cold chandelier light, reflecting the faces of the Jeon family and their trusted allies.

The announcement of Jeon Jungkook's impending marriage to Park Jimin had left the underworld buzzing with rumors and speculations. In the hearts of those gathered, the union was more than a mere binding of two individuals; it was a tactical move, a gamble that would either consolidate Jungkook's iron grip on the empire or expose fractures within his dominion.

The gathering was supposed to be routine, but tonight was anything but. The earlier announcement of Jeon Jungkook's marriage to his right hand, Park Jimin, had left the family and inner circle in a state of shock. And now, with everyone seated around the massive ebony table, tension crackled in the air like a live wire.

At the head of the table sat Jeon Jungkook, the Emperor of the underworld, his posture rigid and commanding. Dressed in a sharp navy blue suit that seemed more like armor, he exuded a calm that was deceptive. His katana rested casually against his chair—a silent promise of violence for anyone foolish enough to cross him.

Beside him sat Park Jimin, his expression cold and unreadable. Though he appeared unshaken, those who knew him could see the subtle tightness in his jaw, the faint clench of his hands on his lap. Across from them sat Jeon Namjoon and Kim Seokjin, the picture of composure, though the air around them felt charged with something unsaid.

Jeon Yeji lounged at the far end, her gaze flicking between the players in this unfolding drama, while Jeon Minhae sat regally near the center, her sharp eyes never straying far from Jungkook and Jimin.

Namjoon leaned forward slightly, his fingers intertwined on the polished table. His calm gaze met Jungkook's, and though his expression was neutral, his words carried a deliberate weight.

"Well," he began smoothly, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "It seems you are  in quite a rush to tie the knot, Your Majesty." he began, lacing his fingers together as he leaned slightly forward, "when are we supposed to starte the preparations, Your Majesty."

The room went still, every pair of eyes darting between the two brothers.

Jungkook's expression didn't change, but his dark eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The silence that followed was louder than any response, a warning that everyone recognized.

Namjoon didn't flinch. Instead, a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Two marriages in Jeon family," he continued, his tone almost playful. "It  should be historic event of the century to be precise underworld's most iconic moment of celebration."

Seokjin, seated beside Namjoon, placed a gentle hand on his fiancé's arm, though his expression was unreadable. "I wonder what color them Jimin and his majesty has planned for their wedding, we've chosen Blue hyacinths and pink roses," Seokjin said calmly, his voice softer but no less pointed.

The words landed like a punch to Jimin, for him unfortunately this wasn't a wedding it was basically his end of own choices over his own life.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then the murmurs began, faint but unmistakable. Jeon Yeji raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused smile, while Minhae's gaze sharpened with interest.

Jungkook, however, remained still. His fingers curled ever so slightly on the armrest of his chair, the only outward sign of the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. His gaze flickered to Seokjin, then back to Namjoon, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.

"You've been planning this for some time, I see you're quite excited about the decoration but You seem overly enthusiastic about my marriage," Jungkook said finally, his voice low and dangerous.

Seokjin placed a gentle hand on Namjoon's arm, as if to temper his fiancé's boldness. His voice was soft but firm as he spoke. "It's not enthusiasm, Your Majesty. It's... relief. Knowing that once you're settled, Namjoon and I can be relieved to focus on our own plans without distractions."

Namjoon inclined his head in agreement, his tone casual but pointed. "Exactly. With the empire's future secure, we can finally breathe a little easier."

Jungkook's jaw tightened. His gaze flickered briefly to Seokjin, then back to Namjoon. Jungkook said finally, his voice low and deceptively calm.

Namjoon inclined his head slightly. "Yes. We felt that wedding is something auspicious and once in a life time moment of celebration."

Yeji's laugh rang out, too bright for the oppressive air. "Well, isn't this a surprise? Weren't even aware of two wedings happening and just like that we are here to discuss about the plans and decor already."

Jungkook's Silent Fury

Minhae, ever the opportunist, leaned forward, her voice laced with mock politeness. "How lovely," she said, her sharp eyes never leaving Jungkook. "A grand wedding for Namjoon and Seokjin. Tell me, Your Majesty, will your own wedding be just as grand?"

Jungkook's lips curled into a faint, humorless smirk. He straightened slightly in his chair, his commanding presence filling the room.

"There will be no ceremony," he said simply.

The words were like a thunderclap, silencing the murmurs instantly.

"What?" Minhae blinked, her composure slipping for the first time. While the others were left shocked not believing what they just heard.

"The marriage will be official," Jungkook continued, his voice cold and unyielding. "But there will be no ceremony, no celebration. We will sign the documents, and that will be the end of it."

The shock in the room was palpable. Even Namjoon's smirk faltered slightly, though he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"No ceremony?" Yeji repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. "But this is the emperor's wedding! The event of the century—"

"It is not up for debate," Jungkook interrupted, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "This is my decision. The papers will be signed, and that is final."

"But, Your Majesty," Minhae began, her tone sharp but carefully measured, "this is a marriage that binds bloodlines, that ensures the future of the Jeon empire. A simple signature is not enough."

Yeji nodded, for once serious. "She's right. It's not about a celebration; it's about the traditions, the rituals that ensure the unity and fertility of the union. Without them, the marriage is incomplete and marriage without vows is exactly not a marriage."

Jungkook's gaze turned to them, cold and calculating. "I don't care about vows but for the rest what exactly are you suggesting?"

Minhae straightened, her expression hardening. "If you wish to forego the spectacle, so be it. But the rituals of our bloodlines cannot be ignored. The blessings, the ceremonial rites—they are necessary for the legitimacy of the marriage and its purpose."

"The purpose," Jungkook repeated flatly.

Minhae's gaze didn't waver. "To secure the future of the empire through an heir. Without the rituals, there are no blessings, and without blessings, the marriage lacks strength."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, his grip on the armrest tightening as well. The weight of her words pressed against his iron will, but he knew she wasn't wrong.

Jungkook's Agreement lies ahead "Fine," he said finally, his voice a cold growl. "We will perform the rituals but not all, only which are necessary."

The room fell silent, the finality of his words settling over them like a heavy shroud. Minhae and Yeji exchanged a glance, their gaze subtle but unmistakable.

Jimin, however, remained silent, his hands resting loosely in his lap. To him, the rituals, the documents—it all felt hollow. A mockery of what marriage was supposed to be. His own idea of wedding flashed in his mind as he dreamed his wedding in a black suit, his partner walking towards him as they exchange the rings and say the vows of love towards each other, the wedding kiss and the classic wedding dance, this wasn't how he imagined to get married it was no where near to wedding. It was mockery of wedding to be precise no flowers, no decorations, no cake, no throwing of bouquet, no wishes nothing basically a contract to tie his life without his choices and most importantly without love.

As the meeting began to wind down, Namjoon rose from his seat, his calm expression hiding the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He walked toward the door but paused, his voice carrying just loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

"It's good to see that some traditions are still valued," he said, his tone calm but laced with subtle mockery.

Jungkook's gaze snapped to him, sharp as a blade. "Careful, Namjoon," he said softly, his voice colder than ice. "Don't mistake your freedom for immunity. And care to explain what's your problem? Hmmm? "

Namjoon smirked faintly, his confidence unwavering. "I wouldn't dream of it, Your Majesty."

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but Jungkook said nothing further, his silence more dangerous than words. "I shall take my leave then." Namjoon bowed and went back.

As the family began to disperse, Jimin lingered in his seat, his gaze fixed on the polished surface of the table. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he kept his emotions tightly controlled, refusing to let them surface.

Jungkook, still seated beside him, glanced at Jimin briefly. "You have no objection to the rituals?"

Jimin shook his head, his voice calm but devoid of emotion. "It doesn't even matter."

Jungkook's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he rose from his seat, his presence looming as he walked away.

As the room emptied, Jimin remained seated, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger, resignation, and quiet despair. His thoughts were having a roller coaster ride should he tell Jihyun that he is about to get married ? To a man precisely after contemplating that however even if he tells jiwon won't be able to make it on time to Italy. And there not even a celebration and this wasn't not a marriage more like Jimin's deaths decree so why bother his little one with worry. Jimin decides that he will tell Jihyun when he's mentally ready to inform him about this fuckery that has happened in his life out of nowhere.

The dimly lit corridor of the Jeon Villa stretched endlessly, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. Park Jimin had been on his way to his quarters, seeking a moment of solace after the whirlwind of the gathering. But as he turned a corner, he was met with the sharp, imposing figure of Jeon Minhae.

Behind her stood a pair of senior staff members, their expressions carefully neutral. From a shadowed alcove, Jeon Yeji watched the scene unfold, her usual air of detached amusement replaced with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Park Jimin," Minhae began, her voice cold and biting, cutting through the stillness. Her gaze swept over him with barely concealed disdain. "You walk these halls with such confidence. Almost as if you belong here."

Jimin paused, his posture straightening. He bowed slightly, his expression neutral. "Madam."

Her lips curled into a smirk, but it was anything but kind. "Do you know what the staff call you behind closed doors?" she asked, her tone deceptively light. "The emperor's servant not his spouse. Fitting, isn't it? Always following, never leading. Always in the dark, never in the light."

Jimin's jaw tightened imperceptibly, but he remained silent.

"You think being chosen for this... arrangement elevates you?" Minhae's voice turned sharper, the words dripping with venom. "You're nothing more than a pawn. A tool his majesty has decided to use for his own purposes. And once you've served that purpose, you'll be discarded like the stray you've always been."

The words stung, but Jimin didn't flinch. He couldn't. No matter how much her words cut into him, she was Jeon Minhae—the Emperor's stepmother. To retaliate, to even raise his voice, would be unthinkable.

"Madam, I serve as I've always served," Jimin replied evenly, though the tension in his voice betrayed the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. "With loyalty and dedication."

"Loyalty," Minhae echoed mockingly, taking a step closer. "Do you think loyalty is enough to make you worthy of this family? You're an orphan. A nobody. You have no name, no bloodline, no legacy. And yet, here you are, daring to sit at the Emperor's side. It's laughable. It's just a matter of time I will have my best friend's daughter get married to his majesty."

The senior staff exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent, their eyes flicking to Jimin as if expecting him to respond.

Yeji, still watching from the shadows, felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—discomfort? Sympathy? She wasn't sure. But seeing her mother unleash such venom left her uncharacteristically unsettled.

Jimin's fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to maintain his composure. "I am here because I've earned my place," he said, his voice low but firm.

"Earned?" Minhae's laugh was sharp and cruel. "You think fighting in the shadows, spilling blood in the Emperor's name, makes you one of us? You'll never be anything more than a stray dog that his majesty had picked up out of pity."

Before Jimin could respond, another voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"She's not wrong, you know."

Jimin turned to see Kim Taehyung leaning casually against the wall, his smirk as sharp as the knife he always carried. His gaze flicked to Minhae, then back to Jimin, his eyes gleaming with mockery.

"For someone who's supposed to be the Emperor's shadow," Taehyung drawled, "you're awfully good at attracting attention. Makes you wonder—how long before the Emperor decides you're not worth the trouble?"

Jimin's gaze snapped to Taehyung, his dark eyes narrowing. "Careful, Taehyung, I'm your superior better not to forget." he said quietly, his tone laced with warning.

Taehyung chuckled, unbothered. "Relax, Park. I'm just pointing out the obvious. You're not exactly... indispensable."

Minhae stepped closer, her gaze cold and unyielding. "Do you know why his majesty chose you, Park Jimin? It wasn't because you're special. It wasn't because you're worthy. It was convenience. That's all you are—a convenient choice. And once this marriage serves its purpose, you'll be cast aside, just like every other tool he's used."

Jimin felt his control slipping, his anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. But he couldn't afford to lose himself—not here, not now. How badly he wished to rip apart this woman's neck with his bare hands.

"I understand your concerns," he said finally, his voice steady despite the fire in his chest. "But I am not here to win your approval."

Minhae's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Good. Because you'll never have it."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her heels clicking against the marble floor with a finality that echoed through the corridor. The staff members followed quickly, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort.

"But wait as I said I'm not here to win your approval because I..... already. have. won. your. Emperor's. approval. I believe you wouldn't dare go against his majesty, madam Minhae."

She glared at Jimin angrily unable to argue further she walked away with anger and frustration rolling over her face.

Taehyung lingered for a moment longer, his smirk never fading. "You know," he said, his tone almost amused, "for someone so good at taking punches, you're terrible at dodging them."

Jimin didn't respond, his gaze fixed ahead as Taehyung sauntered off, his mocking laughter trailing behind him.

From her place in the shadows, Yeji watched as Jimin stood alone in the corridor, his shoulders tense, his fists still clenched at his sides. For the first time, the infamous shadow of the Emperor seemed vulnerable, human.

"Are you really going to let them talk to you like that?" Yeji asked as she stepped forward, her voice breaking the silence.

Jimin didn't look at her, his gaze still fixed on the empty hallway ahead. "It doesn't matter."

Yeji tilted her head, studying him. "Doesn't matter? They just tore into you like you're nothing. Don't tell me you're okay with that."

Jimin's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not a Jeon. I have no right to argue with the royalty here."

Yeji's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's bullshit, and you know it. You've earned your place here more than most of us. Don't let them make you forget that."

Jimin finally turned to her, his expression unreadable. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm not one of you. Neither will I ever be accepted by master. It's just a marriage of his convenience to get his heir nothing else."

Yeji fell silent, her gaze lingering on him as he turned and walked away. For the first time, she felt a flicker of something she couldn't quite name—respect? Sympathy? Whatever it was, it left her unsettled.

To be continued*******