Till Death Do Us Part ||Taekook||

Chapter #1 My Husband's Name

Wedding bells. Smiling faces of hundreds of millionaires I'd never learn the names of. A beautiful woman in a long black dress with laced flowers spiraling to the floor stood in the middle of a dining room with hundreds of tables. Her mouth agape, beautiful notes flowing from her pigmented lips. 

Smiling, singing, alcohol, congratulations, then smiling, alcohol, singing, dancing, applause, a short wavering break, my breathing, a heartbeat, the music blares once more, singing, dancing, the swaying of drunk adults, adults screaming political nonsense.

A pen. Ink scaring the white, flattened sheet of lifeless geometric shapes. The sound stopped. A second pen. Scarring the paper just as firmly, if not harder, causing the ink of the pen to splatter around the curled signature. Silence, one, two, one, two, a toast. 

The rest I choose not to remember. That single night was the wrinkle to my plan of freedom and choice. That night. That night was the moment I got married.

Unfortunately it wasn't like most weddings with happy women in beautiful laced white fabric of purity, with a man, tears in his eyes from the overwhelming emotions of excitement and contentment. 

Or the weddings that had two brides or grooms, each ending in an embrace of careful choice making, stringing together a future they wanted to have plastered on the walls of their family home.

 In my case there was a groom...and another groom. There was cake, gowns, men dressed in suites that cost more than most houses, dancing, singing, smiling.

Only one thing was missing. Will. My will to be here standing on this very altar in front of a man with hooded eyes. Correction, our will. A marriage strung together by careful planning of businessmen and executives to perfectly execute a straight path to success.

  His success. I was just an asset, something he puts on the shelf sometimes to sway the argument. To twist the outcome. The bishop of the chess board. I was like the bread before the dinner. Enough food to keep the hungry at ease before the main meal arrived.

I had one single agreement I made with my father. I can do whatever I please, fuck whoever I want, pick any career path, inhale any drug to my hearts content, even get arrested for all he cares.

 Under one condition. I'd marry at the age of twenty five to a man from the Kim corporation. To the baron of the company, the heir in other words. 

The Kim's on the other hand will have the ability to inherit my fathers good reputation, something their rash business decisions have lost them. With this business agreement my father would have access to get his fingers curled around whatever money he wanted, while I can reign free without his pathetic excuses of parenting.

By that I mean his 'constructive' criticisms on every single thing I do in life. I'll admit going through high school without having the weight of perfect grades and an impressive sex life to brag about to all my golf colleagues for when I retire was pretty nice.

 Amazing actually. I never liked golf anyways. But now I was legally married to a man who liked to accept that my existence is...well...simply nonexistent.

The first few months I tried to become acquaintances at the very least. Saying my efforts failed would be an understatement. I didn't even get a single word out of his mouth, just hums and grunts. I started to think he wasn't capable of talking about anything but business.

 At first it was incredibly annoying but the longer I was with him the more I realized the opportunity he was giving me. He never talked to me.

 He never looked at me. He never even pretends to care. It's almost like he's my neighbor down the hall of my apartment complex rather than my husband.