Can't Escape 3

Eight

The evening dragged on, each minute a painstaking effort to keep up appearances. As they mingled, Taehyung’s grip on her arm remained firm but unthreatening, his public demeanor a perfect mask of composed politeness. The weight of their earlier encounter with her parents lingered, a silent reminder of the unspoken truths they had all danced around.

In the distance, a voice rose above the murmur of the crowd, drawing their attention. Taehyung’s father, a towering figure in the political world, had taken the stage. His presence commanded the room, the buzz of conversation fading as everyone turned to listen.

“Distinguished guests, friends, and colleagues,” his father began, his voice resonant and authoritative. “It’s an honor to address you tonight as we celebrate another year of progress and collaboration in our community.”

Taehyung’s hand tensed on her arm, his gaze fixed on the man at the podium. A flicker of something dark crossed his face, a shadow of emotions too complex to decipher. She felt a chill, sensing that this moment held a deeper significance than she could understand.

His father continued, his speech flowing seamlessly through the expected praises and acknowledgments. “Together, we’ve achieved remarkable things,” he proclaimed, his eyes scanning the room. “And it’s through the strength of our partnerships and the support of our families that we continue to thrive.”

As the words washed over them, Taehyung’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched. She felt the change in him, a tension that spoke of old wounds and unresolved conflicts. She dared not speak, fearing to break the fragile thread of control he seemed to cling to.

**Flashback:**

In the dim light of a lavish study, a young Taehyung stood rigid, his eyes downcast as his father loomed over him. The room smelled of leather and old books, a space that had once felt safe now turned oppressive.

“Do you understand what’s expected of you?” his father’s voice was cold, each word a blade. “You have responsibilities. You must keep your wife in line, just as I have done. It’s how you maintain order.”

Taehyung flinched at the sharpness in his father’s tone, his heart pounding in his chest. He remembered the countless nights hearing his mother’s stifled cries, the fear that had settled into their home like a heavy fog. His father’s cruelty had shaped his world, a lesson in power and control that he had been forced to learn.

“Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” his father continued, his gaze piercing. “You show weakness, and they’ll take advantage of you. Be firm. Be the man you’re supposed to be.”

Taehyung’s stomach churned, the bitter taste of compliance in his mouth. He had vowed to be different, to protect those he loved from the cycle of pain, yet the chains of his father’s expectations held him tight.

“Yes, Father,” he said quietly, his voice a shadow of defiance he dared not express. The weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder was a shackle, binding him to a path he had never chosen but could not escape.

**End of Flashback.**

The applause of the crowd jolted Taehyung back to the present. His father’s speech had concluded, the guests rising to their feet in admiration. The echoes of the past lingered, the memories clinging to him like a dark cloud.

Taehyung’s grip on her arm tightened painfully for a moment, his eyes unfocused. She glanced at him, concerned, but he quickly composed himself, his mask slipping back into place. “It’s time to leave,” he said curtly, guiding her through the dispersing crowd.

The ride home was fraught with tension, the silence between them thick and oppressive. She stole glances at Taehyung, his face a stony mask, the emotions beneath the surface hidden from her. She couldn’t fathom the depth of his internal struggle, the wounds that his father had inflicted now festering in his own actions.