Chapter Text
Na Haesoo sat in her room, staring blankly at the ceiling. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had been plaguing her ever since her father broke the news about the marriage arrangement. The family company was on the brink of bankruptcy, and her father saw this as their only chance for survival. But for Na Haesoo, it felt like a death sentence.
She knew nothing about the man she was supposed to marry, Beom Taehee. All she remembered was his leering gaze and the way he'd tried to get into her pants at the last dinner party they'd attended together. The thought of spending the rest of her life with him made her skin crawl.
“Who would want to marry someone like that?”
As she shifted beneath the sheets, her nightgown slipped from one shoulder, a pale trace of skin catching the dim light. She had never been in a relationship before, despite her popularity for her looks. At twenty-five, the sudden news shattered her fragile heart.
“Do I have a chance to say no?” she whispered.
Her father’s desperate attempt to secure a connection—to ensure the company’s survival—silenced her. She was no longer just another pretty face; she was a commodity, a pawn in a twisted game of wealth and power. The thought tore at her chest, leaving an ache she couldn’t name.
“I miss you, Mom,” she whispered into the darkness.
Her voice trembled, swallowed by the quiet room. If her mother were still alive, she would have held her close, told her everything would be all right. But now, there was no one left to protect her—no warm hands to wipe her tears, no gentle voice to defend her from the cruel bargain that had sealed her fate.
She closed her eyes, imagining her mother’s face—the soft smile, the comforting scent of jasmine she used to wear—and for a fleeting moment, Haesoo wished she could return to that time, before the world demanded her heart as payment.
-------------
The next day, Na Haesoo forced herself to get ready for the meeting with Taehee's family. Her heart raced as she stepped into the grand mansion, the soft glow of chandeliers casting golden light across the marble floors. Her own house was far from small—still spacious, elegant even—but this was different. The Beom family’s home felt like another world entirely, where wealth breathed through every wall and silence itself seemed expensive.
For a moment, Haesoo hesitated at the threshold, feeling strangely out of place, as though the air here belonged to people born to command it.
She was led into a grand ballroom where Beom Taehee stood waiting, flanked by his parents. The chandeliers above glittered like constellations, casting gold and ivory light across the polished floor. The grandeur should have been breathtaking, but Haesoo felt nothing—only the tightening in her chest as her gaze found him.
Taehee’s eyes met hers the moment she entered, recognition flashing like a spark in the air between them. That smirk—the same one she remembered—curved across his lips again.
Her stomach twisted. All she could recall was his leering gaze at the last dinner party they’d both attended, the drunken charm in his voice as he’d leaned too close, his words heavy with suggestion. She had walked away then, disgusted, vowing never to be in the same room with him again. Yet here she was, walking toward the man she was now expected to marry.
Taehee’s eyes trailed over her, unashamed, his smirk deepening. Still pretending to hate me, he thought, watching how she refused to look away. But that fear in her eyes—it’s almost beautiful.
When she stopped a few steps away, Taehee slipped his hands into his pockets and offered a faint smile.
“We meet again, Miss Na Haesoo,” he said lightly, as though greeting an old friend.
Haesoo’s voice came out barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”
The single word hung between them, fragile and heavy with everything unspoken. Taehee’s smirk didn’t falter; if anything, it widened slightly, as if her discomfort amused him.
From the side, Taehee’s parents exchanged glances—his mother’s eyes filled with concern, his father’s expression as unreadable as ever. They watched the brief exchange in silence, his mother quietly hoping that this union would finally change him. She longed for her son to settle down, to abandon his reckless, womanizing ways.
Beside her, Chairman Beom remained unmoved. His face was carved in stone, his cold gaze assessing Haesoo not as a daughter-in-law, but as a potential asset—another piece in the grand structure of his family’s legacy. He neither comforted his wife nor acknowledged her unease. To him, emotions were distractions, and this marriage was nothing more than business.
Love didn’t matter to them, nor did compatibility. To the Beoms, any respectable match would suffice—as long as it brought stability and preserved the family’s name.
A polite cough broke the heavy silence.
“Chairman Beom, Madam Beom,” Mr. Na greeted, his voice steady but his hands betraying his unease as they fidgeted at his sides. “It’s an honor for our families to finally meet formally.”
Mrs. Beom offered a kind, practiced smile. “The honor is ours, Mr. Na. We’ve heard a great deal about your daughter.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward Haesoo, softening. “She’s even lovelier in person.”
Chairman Beom merely gave a curt nod. “We expect this arrangement to proceed without delay,” he said, his tone sharp, leaving no room for discussion.
Mr. Na bowed slightly, forcing a polite smile. “Of course, Chairman. My daughter will do her best.” His voice faltered for a heartbeat, the weight of guilt pressing behind his polite words.
Haesoo lowered her gaze, her hands tightening around her clutch. Every word felt like a nail sealing her fate.
-------------
The formal introductions soon gave way to dinner. A long mahogany table stretched beneath the chandelier’s golden glow, its surface adorned with silver cutlery and crystal glasses that reflected the flicker of candlelight. Dishes were served in elegant silence—everything meticulously arranged, yet the atmosphere felt suffocatingly heavy.
Haesoo sat beside her father, directly across from Taehee. Every clink of the utensils sounded sharper than it should; every polite laugh from the elders felt rehearsed. She kept her gaze on her plate, forcing small bites of food she could barely taste. Her stomach was a knot of nerves.
Mrs. Beom made gentle attempts at conversation, her tone warm yet carefully measured.
“Haesoo, your father mentioned you studied business management, is that right?”
“Yes, Madam,” Haesoo replied softly, setting down her fork. “I… I graduated last year.”
“How lovely. You must be very capable,” Mrs. Beom said with a kind smile. “Our Taehee could learn a thing or two from someone as diligent as you.”
A quiet chuckle escaped Taehee’s lips. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass. “Mother, I’m sure Miss Na already has quite the impression of me. I doubt she’s eager to teach me anything.”
Haesoo froze for a moment, her pulse quickening. When she dared to glance up, his eyes were already on her—dark, teasing, but unreadable beneath the faint curl of his smile. The same look that had haunted her since their last encounter.
She quickly looked away, pretending to focus on her plate, but the weight of his gaze lingered—a silent reminder that she couldn’t escape him this time.
Mr. Na forced a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension. “Young people will get to know each other better with time,” he said.
Chairman Beom simply nodded, cutting into his steak with calm precision. “They’ll have plenty of time to understand each other once the engagement is finalized,” he said flatly, not even looking up.
Haesoo’s throat tightened. She could feel her father’s guilt beside her, the polished, businesslike smile in Mrs. Beom’s expression, and the quiet amusement in Taehee’s glances.
She lowered her head again, whispering silently to herself, I just have to endure this… for Father’s sake.
Across the table, Taehee took another sip of wine, his eyes locked on her like a hunter watching prey. His smirk returned—slow, deliberate, cruel. Endure it all you want, he thought darkly, taking quiet pleasure in the fear trembling behind her calm façade. In the end, you’ll belong to me.
A hint of pity stirred in him, but he almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Pity wasn’t something Beom Taehee felt—not for anyone, and certainly not for her. She looked fragile beneath the glitter of chandeliers, like a bird forced into a gilded cage. But the fleeting softness vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a sharper, more dangerous kind of intrigue.
He found her helplessness… thrilling. There was something irresistible about watching someone so proud, so untouchable, caught in the same web of wealth and duty that had shaped his own life.
Tsk, he mused inwardly, tracing a finger along the rim of his glass. In the end, everyone has a price. Even someone like you, Na Haesoo.
To him, she wasn’t just a pretty face his family had chosen—she was proof that even dignity could be negotiated, that beauty and pride could be bought if one simply knew what to offer in return.
Chapter 2: The Engagement
Chapter Text
The dinner ended in polite silence, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the shallow sound of forced laughter. Na Haesoo’s hands had gone cold long before the final dish was served. Every time she lifted her gaze, she could feel Beom Taehee’s eyes on her — steady, unreadable, almost predatory.
When her father finally rose to thank the Beoms for their hospitality, relief washed over her like a thin, fleeting breath. She stood too, bowing politely to the elders, eager to leave the suffocating air of the dining room.
But before she could take a single step away, Taehee’s voice cut through the air.
“Na Haesoo-ssi,” he said smoothly, his tone deceptively polite. “Would you mind if we spoke privately for a moment?”
Her father hesitated, glancing between them. Mrs. Beom smiled faintly, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
“Of course,” she said. “It’s good for the young ones to talk.”
Haesoo’s stomach twisted. She forced a small smile. “Yes, that’s fine.”
Taehee led her into one of the smaller sitting rooms beside the hall. The room was dimly lit, warm with the faint scent of cologne and wine. As the door shut behind them, the air seemed to thicken — quieter, heavier.
Haesoo clasped her hands in front of her, careful to keep her posture composed. “What did you want to talk about, Beom Taehee-ssi?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned against the edge of the grand piano, watching her. His lips curved — that same slow, deliberate smirk that made her heart stumble in her chest.
“I just wanted to get to know my fiancée,” he said, voice soft but taunting. “Or… should I say, my future wife?”
Her fingers tightened. “This engagement isn’t official yet,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Taehee chuckled lowly. “Ah, but it will be soon. Our parents are quite efficient when business is involved.” His gaze lowered, tracing the shape of her face, the tension in her jaw. “You don’t look happy about it.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
He tilted his head slightly. “No one really does in our world, do they?” he murmured. “But at least you’ll be marrying someone you’ve met before.”
Haesoo’s eyes flickered — remembering that night months ago, the last dinner party, his eyes burning into her like fire.
“I remember you tried to—” she stopped herself, breath catching. “You were… different back then.”
“Different?” His smile deepened, voice lowering. “Or honest?”
Her throat tightened. “You were drunk.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But I remember exactly what I wanted.” His words lingered between them, deliberate, cruelly teasing.
Haesoo took a step back, but the edge of the couch stopped her. Taehee straightened, taking a step closer — not enough to touch, but enough to make her heart race.
“You’re trembling,” he said quietly, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Don’t worry, Haesoo-ssi. I’m not going to hurt you… yet.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “There’s something fascinating about you — pretending to be calm, pretending this marriage means nothing to you. But deep down…” His gaze dropped to her clasped hands. “You’re terrified.”
“I’m not.”
He moved before she could even register the shift in the atmosphere. The world seemed to blur around her as his hands suddenly materialized at her sides. Strong fingers bit into the soft fabric of her dress, finding the curve of her waist.
A gasp caught in her throat, a tiny, lost sound. The movement was swift, efficient, and utterly consuming.
He didn't just hold her; he claimed the space between them. With a single, powerful motion, he drew her inward. Her feet stumbled for purchase as she was yanked against his chest, the solid wall of his body colliding with hers.
"What are you doing? Let go of me," Na Haesoo said in a nervous tone.
Taehee just smirked, looking at her reaction. He said, "Not so loud, our parents can hear."
Na Haesoo struggled to pull away from his grip, twisting her body, but his hold was iron-tight. The futile exertion only made him chuckle softly.
Finally, after a moment of amusement, he released her just as suddenly as he had grabbed her.
He laughed. "Youre indeed terrified."
"No. I'm not." She said avoiding his eyes.
“Then look at me." He replied.
Haesoo forced herself to meet his eyes. For a fleeting moment, she almost succeeded — but his gaze held too much power, too much quiet cruelty. She looked away first.
“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping back finally. “Don’t worry. I’ll play nice until the wedding.” He turned toward the door, then paused. “But remember this, Na Haesoo — you can hate me all you want. It won’t change what’s coming.”
When the door closed behind him, Haesoo sank slowly into the nearest chair, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.
For the first time, she realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t just a business arrangement anymore.
It was the beginning of a game — one she had never agreed to play.
_______________
Two weeks passed.
The Beom and Na families moved quickly — invitations were sent, preparations were made, and rumors began to swirl long before the official announcement.
The Beom heir, infamous for his arrogance and charm, was finally getting engaged.
The press went wild. Every publication speculated who the bride might be.
Would it be the daughter of another conglomerate? A celebrity heiress? A politician’s child?
When Na Haesoo’s name was finally revealed, the internet erupted.
“Na Haesoo? The Na Group’s only daughter?” “She’s known for staying out of scandals. Why her?”
“She’s beautiful, yes, but she’s quiet. Too quiet for Beom Taehee.”
“Maybe she’s the one who’ll tame him… or maybe he’ll ruin her.”
Haesoo didn’t read any of it, but she didn’t have to. The quiet buzz of her phone, the unending calls, and her father’s strained smile at breakfast said enough. She was no longer just herself — she was his fiancée.
The engagement ceremony took place in the Beom family’s grand ballroom — the same room where they had first met again. Chandeliers spilled golden light across the polished floor. Photographers gathered near the entrance, flashes bright as lightning.
“Beom Taehee-ssi! Over here!”
“Miss Na, one smile, please!”
“Such a beautiful couple!”
Haesoo stood beside Taehee, her ivory dress simple but graceful. She looked serene for the cameras, though her fingers trembled slightly around her clutch.
Beside her, Taehee looked like he had been born for this — tall, confident, the picture of composure. Every move, every smile seemed calculated, designed to charm the world.
He leaned slightly toward her, close enough that his breath brushed her ear.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, voice low and teasing. “Perfectly suited to be my wife.”
Haesoo froze, pulse quickening. Without thinking, she took a small step back — a single, deliberate motion to reclaim a sliver of space.
Taehee noticed.
The smirk on his lips faltered — just for a second — before he masked it again with a charming smile for the flashing cameras.
She caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes. It was fleeting, but unmistakable.
He leaned close again, tone soft but edged with warning.
“Careful, Haesoo. People are watching. You wouldn’t want them to think we’re unhappy already.”
Haesoo’s voice was quiet, her expression poised. “I thought honesty mattered to you, Beom Taehee-ssi.”
His jaw tightened, then relaxed into another smirk.
“Honesty has its limits,” he murmured. “Especially when you’re mine.”
Her lips curved faintly — a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “If this is what being yours means, then perhaps honesty is all I have left.”
He chuckled under his breath, leaning in close enough for the cameras to catch their perfect angle. “Then I’ll just have to teach you how to smile for real,” he said softly.
Flash.
The photographers erupted in excitement, shouting their names.
Chairman Beom and Mr. Na watched from the side of the stage, both satisfied in their own way — one saw power, the other saw salvation.
Neither saw the quiet war unfolding between their children.
When Taehee slipped the ring onto her finger, applause filled the hall.
Haesoo’s smile didn’t waver, though her heart felt like glass beneath his touch. Taehee’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, firm — possessive — as if reminding her who held the upper hand.
He leaned closer one last time, his words meant only for her.
“Smile for them, Haesoo,” he whispered. “They all think we’re in love.”
She tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance.
“If this is love,” she said softly, “then it feels an awful lot like a cage.”
Taehee’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened — sharp, dangerous.
“Then I’ll make sure it’s a beautiful one,” he replied smoothly. “One only I hold the key to.”
The cheers and flashes blurred around her. For the sake of her family, she had accepted this beautiful lie — even knowing it would be the very thing that destroyed her.
---------------
The Next Morning – Na Group Headquarters
The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the tinted windows of Na Group’s office tower. Haesoo sat behind her desk, rereading the same sentence on a contract for the fifth time. Her mind refused to settle. Her engagement photos were already plastered across every news site; her email inbox was overflowing; employees whispered the moment she walked past.
The ring on her finger felt heavy. Too heavy.
A soft knock broke the silence.
Before she could respond, the door opened.
Taehee stepped inside.
He didn’t bother asking for permission.
He didn’t need to. Not anymore.
“Good morning, fiancée,” he said lightly, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Haesoo straightened immediately, her fingers curling over the edge of her desk. “Beom Taehee-ssi… What are you doing here?”
“Visiting,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing. “Can’t I drop by to see my bride-to-be?”
She forced a polite smile. “This is my workplace.”
“Exactly,” he said with a low chuckle. “Which is why I came. The office is buzzing. People are dying to see us together. I thought I’d spare you from being the subject of unnecessary rumors.”
Her pulse skipped.
He was right.
If she refused him, the whispers would only get worse.
She rose slowly. “What do you want?”
“Lunch,” he said. “With me.”
“It’s not even noon yet.”
“And?” He stepped closer. “I want to spend time with my fiancée. Is that forbidden?”
She swallowed. “I have work—”
“Work can wait.” His tone softened, but the firmness beneath it did not. “Come with me, Haesoo. Don’t make it difficult.”
Her throat tightened. Refusing wasn’t an option. Not with the engagement just announced. Not when the smallest rumor could explode into a scandal her father couldn’t afford.
“…Fine,” she said quietly. “Give me a moment.”
He smiled — the slow, satisfied kind that always made her stomach knot.
As she reached for her coat, she felt it immediately:
his eyes.
Tracking her.
Watching her in silence.
She stiffened, fingers pausing mid-air.
“Taehee-ssi,” she said carefully without turning, “stop staring.”
He didn’t bother denying it.
“I’m just looking at my fiancée,” he murmured. “Is that a crime?”
“It’s inappropriate.”
“That depends on what I’m thinking,” he said.
Her breath stilled.
He walked toward her, each step unhurried, deliberate. She didn’t move. Couldn’t. The office felt too small suddenly — the air too heavy.
When he stopped behind her, she felt the shift in the atmosphere more than she heard it.
His voice brushed the back of her neck.
“You changed your hairstyle,” he said softly. “It suits you.”
She swallowed, turning just enough to put space between them. “Let’s go. Before people start talking.”
“Oh, they’ll talk regardless,” he said, opening the door for her with a polite smile that masked the darkness in his eyes. “But let them. You’re mine now, remember? The entire country knows it.”
Her steps faltered.
He leaned closer, voice low.
“Walk beside me, Haesoo. If you don’t, they’ll think we’re having problems already.”
She hated that he was right.
Hated that he knew it.
With a slow inhale, she stepped forward, and Taehee fell naturally into stride beside her — close enough that his arm brushed hers every few steps, close enough that anyone watching would think they were a perfectly matched couple.
But inside, Haesoo felt her chest tighten with every whispered comment from passing employees, every stolen glance between secretaries.
They reached the lobby.
Just before they stepped outside, Taehee leaned down, his lips barely an inch from her ear.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’ll be gentle today.”
Her heart kicked painfully against her ribs.
She wasn’t sure which frightened her more —
the threat in the words or the promise.
The moment they stepped out of the building, the late-morning sun caught on the engagement ring, making it gleam like a warning. The security team trailing behind them only worsened Haesoo’s growing unease — it made everything feel scripted, watched, owned.
Taehee guided her toward his car with casual confidence, his hand settling on the small of her back. The touch was light, polite enough for public eyes, but firm enough that she couldn’t ignore the underlying message:
You move where I want you to.
Haesoo stiffened.
“Taehee-ssi,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, “your hand…”
He didn’t withdraw it.
Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice brushing her cheek.
“You’re trembling again."
“I’m not.”
“That’s what you always say.”
His fingers pressed just a little harder — not enough to be inappropriate in public, but enough that she felt caged.
When she slid into the passenger seat, he closed the door with a soft click — gentle, but final.
At the restaurant**
Taehee had chosen one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city — a place where every table was tucked behind frosted partitions and privacy was guaranteed. A place where secrets were safe, and whispers carried no consequences.
The moment they were seated, Haesoo wished they had gone somewhere more public.
Somewhere with witnesses.
Somewhere she could breathe.
The waiter left them with menus, bowing deeply.
Haesoo tried to keep her eyes on the page.
Tried to ignore the weight of Taehee’s gaze.
But she could feel it.
Dragging.
Measuring.
Possessive.
Her fingers tightened on the menu. “Could you… stop staring like that?”
“Like what?” His tone was amused. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Like—” she swallowed “—like you’re trying to read my mind.”
Taehee leaned back, tapping his finger thoughtfully against the table.
“I don’t need to read your mind,” he said. “Your body already tells me everything. Even when your mouth refuses to.”
Her pulse spiked.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
He smiled faintly, the expression sharp enough to cut.
“You’re thinking about running,” he murmured. “Aren’t you, Haesoo?”
“No.”
“Lies look terrible on you.”
The waiter returned, thankfully interrupting the moment. Haesoo ordered quickly — almost too quickly — and Taehee raised an eyebrow as if amused by how desperately she wanted the conversation to end.
Once the waiter left, Taehee rested his chin on his hand.
“You know,” he began, “most women in your position would be thrilled.”
“For what?” she asked quietly.
“To marry into power. To secure their position. To be tied to someone with influence. But you—”
his eyes swept across her face, lingering on the tension in her jaw
“—you look like you’re walking to an execution.”
Her breath caught.
He wasn’t wrong.
But he didn’t need to say it.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered.
“Then explain.”
“I didn’t choose this.”
“And you think I did?” Taehee’s tone finally shifted — still calm, still controlled, but carrying the faintest crack. “My father arranged this just as much as yours did.”
Haesoo blinked, surprised.
“It’s business,” he continued. “It’s always business. I’ve been told since I was a child that my future wasn’t mine to decide.”
His voice remained steady, but something dark and bitter simmered beneath the surface.
“Don’t fool yourself,” he said quietly. “Neither of us is free.”
For the first time, Haesoo saw something in him that didn’t fit the man she feared — a flicker of resentment, a quiet wound revealed only because he chose to let her see it.
She didn’t know how to respond.
Silence settled between them like dust.
Until Taehee broke it.
“But unlike you,” he murmured, leaning forward, “I don’t run from what I can’t change.”
His hand reached across the table, stopping just inches from hers.
“You’ll learn to face it too.”
Haesoo’s breath trembled. “Face what?”
“Me.”
Her heart jolted.
Taehee didn’t touch her — not yet — but the closeness of his hand made the air feel heavier, sharper.
“You think I want this any more than you do,” he said. “But whether we like it or not, our lives are tied together now. And if we’re going to do this—”
his gaze turned hard, unyielding
“—I’m not going to let you pretend I don’t exist.”
She swallowed. “I’m not pretending.”
“You are.”
His voice lowered.
“You keep acting like I’m a threat, instead of a reality.”
“You are a threat,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
Silence.
Then—
Taehee’s lips curved slowly, dangerously.
“So that’s what you think of me.”
She froze. “I didn’t mean—”
“But you did.” His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. “You think I’m the villain in your story.”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“And maybe I am.”
Her pulse hammered.
“But that doesn’t change the fact,” he continued softly, “that you’re sitting here with me anyway. Wearing my ring. Bearing my family’s name. And every person out there already believes you’re mine.”
She flinched at the word.
Mine.
He noticed.
His voice softened — but the softness was worse somehow, more dangerous.
“You can hate me. You can fear me. But you can’t escape me, Haesoo.”
He leaned forward.
“We’re engaged. Our lives are tied. And the sooner you accept that—”
His hand finally brushed her fingertips.
Barely a touch.
But she felt it like a spark shooting up her arm.
“—the easier this will be.”
Her chair scraped softly when she pulled her hand back.
She didn’t even realize she had moved until Taehee’s smile widened by a fraction.
“There it is,” he murmured. “That look.”
“What look?” she whispered.
“The one that tells me,” he said, settling back casually, “that you’re trying very, very hard not to fall apart in front of me.”
Her throat tightened painfully.
“And that,” he added, voice like silk over steel, “is exactly why you fascinate me.”
Before she could respond, the waiter returned with their meals, breaking the moment as if nothing had happened.
But Haesoo could barely breathe.
And Taehee— He looked like he was just getting started.
Naurie on Chapter 2 Sat 13 Dec 2025 08:23AM UTC
Comment Actions