The revolving doors of K Group closed behind her with a soft hiss, carrying out the last traces of her sister's frustration. Seo-rin exhaled slowly, trying to steady the tremor that always followed after an argument with Ara. She tugged her coat tighter around herself and stepped out into the midday light and stopped.
Lee Jae-min was standing right there on the sidewalk, leaning casually against a sleek black car as if it were just another bench. No guards. No driver. No entourage shadowing his every step. The picture was so wrong it froze her feet to the ground.
Jae-min, alone?
She blinked once, twice, because men like him didn't walk anywhere without layers of people insulating them from the world. He was the kind of man who moved like a rumor, always whispered, never directly seen.
Yet there he was. Hands in pockets. Eyes on her.
Miracles exist, apparently, she thought.
She walked toward him, her heels tapping crisply against the pavement. His gaze followed each step, not with warmth, but with that unreadable stillness he wore like tailored fabric.
"What are you doing here?" Seo-rin asked, stopping a breath away.
"To pick you up," he replied, as if the answer were obvious. "We're choosing a wedding venue."
He opened the passenger door with a smooth, practiced motion.
"Get in."
"I can go by myself," she said, folding her arms.
"I know you can." His voice was calm, almost bored. "I'm choosing to take you. Don't make me repeat myself."
She stared at him, at the unyielding set of his jaw. Most people feared this version of him, the cold, clipped tone that meant he wasn't asking but declaring. Seo-rin wasn't sure if she was truly unafraid or simply too angry at life to feel fear anymore.
Either way, she slid into the car.
Inside, silence settled like a thin sheet of frost. He didn't try to speak; neither did she. Her eyes drifted downward and she saw it. A pistol tucked neatly beneath his seat. Not hidden. Not flaunted. Just… there. A quiet reminder of what kind of man she had agreed to marry.
She didn't comment. He didn't explain. Their silence felt like an agreement signed in the air.
The venue was one the wedding planner had chosen, some exclusive estate on a hill overlooking the river, all manicured gardens and marble paths. The kind of place reserved for aristocrats and old-money families who guarded their bloodlines like treasure.
Jae-min walked slightly ahead of her, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but eyes taking in every detail. He looked like he owned the place.
"You like it?" he asked lightly.
"It's fine," she said, scrolling on her tablet. "Let the planner choose everything. It's not like this is real."
His head turned slightly, just enough for her to catch the edge of his expression.
"And it's not like you'll get married twice," he said.
She looked up sharply. "What?"
"You heard me."
The words were simple, but something in them lodged under her ribs. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he had already walked off.
Later, back at his company, he led her straight into his office with the same quiet authority.
"I drafted the contract." He placed a crisp folder in front of her. "Read and sign."
She sat. He stood, watching her like she were another business negotiation.
She skimmed the pages.
"No hanging out with other partners?"
"Daily updates about each other's movements?"
"Mandatory communication?"
Her eyebrows shot up.
"Are you serious?" she asked.
"Then should I let my wife meet other men?" he replied, voice low and cold.
"And where is the divorce clause?" she demanded.
"Not included," he said, turning to the coffee machine. "Women in the Lee family aren't divorcees. Only widows."
The way he said it, calm, unbothered, sent a chill skimming her skin.
"That's insane," she whispered.
"Then don't sign," he said, sliding a cup of coffee toward her. "Leave."
Seo-rin stared at him for a long moment, at the arrogance, the control, the terrifying certainty. She signed anyway.
And one day, she thought, I will find a way out of you.
He didn't react. He just took the contract, tucked it away like a victory he knew he'd get.
_________________
Jae-min walked into the dressing room without knocking. Of course he didn't. Men like him didn't ask for permission to enter any space, physical or emotional.
Seo-rin stood before the mirror, veiled, dressed in silk that shimmered like moonlit water. For a brief second, he paused, not long enough to be tender, but long enough to recognize that she looked breathtaking.
"You look good," he said plainly. As if he were commenting on weather. As if she weren't the woman he was about to bind his name to.
"Thanks," she said, adjusting her veil.
Behind her, Ara stepped forward. "Hurt her," she said, "and I'll make sure you rot in prison."
Jae-min clicked his tongue, amusement touching the corner of his mouth. "Cute."
They stepped out together into a hall that felt less like a celebration and more like a throne room.
Crystal chandeliers cascaded light like falling stars.
The marble gleamed as though polished with liquid moonlight.
Gold-trimmed pillars climbed toward a ceiling painted with scenes of ancient dynasties, kings, queens, wars, alliances made with blood and broken vows.
A full orchestra played a slow, haunting rendition of a classical piece.
Guests filled the space in shimmering crowds, politicians, CEOs, celebrities, royal families from abroad. Guards lined every corner, all black suits and unreadable expressions. Reporters whispered behind their cameras, trying to understand this sudden, shocking union. Their flashes glittered like sparks.
The aisle itself was a river of white flowers and soft fog that curled around the edges of the walkway, as if the ground were breathing. Every step echoed.
Seo-rin's heart beat once.
Twice.
Too loud.
Jae-min walked beside her, his hand steady and warm around hers, calm in a room full of chaos. Together, they looked like a perfectly crafted lie.
A royal couple.
A dangerous alliance.
A marriage built not on love, but necessity, and secrets sharp enough to slice.
Every guest watched them with a different hunger, envy, awe, suspicion, fear.
At the altar, he looked down at her with eyes that gave nothing away.
Not affection.
Not cruelty.
Just… possession. And a promise she couldn't decode.
In that moment, surrounded by power and danger woven into silk and ceremony, Seo-rin realized,
She hadn't married a man.
She had married a storm.