CEO'S childish wife
"Eomma, No more proposals.....I'm tired of this daily drama" Namjoon stood in the luxurious living room of the Kim mansion, frustration etched across his face.
In the dimly lit corridors of the underworld, where shadows whispered secrets and power danced in the silence, Kim Namjoon reigned as the unyielding monarch. Clad in a tailored suit that spoke of authority and dominance, he moved through the clandestine world with a demeanor that sent shivers down spines.
His gaze, sharp as the blade he wielded in the cutthroat world of organized crime, betrayed no emotion. Namjoon's cold eyes mirrored the calculated precision with which he navigated the dangerous intricacies of his empire. His steps were measured, echoing a confidence that demanded respect and instilled fear.
In the hallowed halls of power, where alliances were forged with a nod or shattered with a glance, Namjoon's reputation preceded him. His words were few, but they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken threats. Those who dared to challenge him soon learned the futility of defiance.
But beyond the icy exterior lay a mind sharp as the edge of a dagger. Namjoon was not just a king; he was a strategist, a chess master orchestrating moves that left his adversaries checkmated before they even realized the game had begun.
In the midst of chaos, Namjoon stood as the calm eye of the storm, a force to be reckoned with. His empire thrived under the meticulous control of his iron fist, and his legacy etched itself into the dark tapestry of the criminal underworld.
Yet, in the quiet moments when the world thought he was vulnerable, Namjoon's thoughts drifted to a past shrouded in the innocence of youth. A time when he was not a king but a dreamer. A dreamer who had learned to wear the crown of a king with an icy grace, ruling the shadows with a cold, rude, and dominant attitude that left an indelible mark on the pages of his legacy.
His mother, Mrs. Kim looked at him with concern.
"Namjoon, you're the heir to the Kim family legacy. I just want what's best for you," Mrs. Kim replied, her voice carrying a mix of determination and motherly affection.
"I know, Eomma, but I can't keep going through this. Every day, it's a new proposal, a new potential match. I'm literally done with this"
Mrs. Kim regarded Namjoon with a mixture of concern and understanding. "Namjoon, I know it's been difficult for you, but you have to think about the future of the Kim family. We can't let the legacy fade away."
Namjoon, leaning against the polished marble countertop, crossed his arms and let out a heavy sigh. "Eomma, I'm not against the idea of continuing the family legacy. It's just... all these proposals, these matches you arrange for me, it feels like I'm being forced into a life I don't want."
His mother approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Namjoon, I just want you to be happy. But you're so closed off. You've built this wall around yourself, shutting out the possibility of love and companionship. Maybe if you meet someone naturally, you'll see things differently."
Namjoon scoffed, his cold demeanor momentarily breaking. "Love, Eomma? I've seen what it does to people. It's messy and complicated. I don't have time for that."
Mrs. Kim sighed, her eyes reflecting both sadness and determination. "Namjoon, you can't let one bad experience define your perspective on love. Give it a chance. Meet someone without the weight of expectations, without the pressure of an arranged match. Just... let it happen."
Namjoon rolled his eyes, but a hint of curiosity lingered in his gaze. "And how do you expect me to find someone like that?"
Mrs. Kim smiled knowingly. "Well, maybe someone is already in your life, someone who knows the real Namjoon behind the cold exterior."
