Twisted fate... [🅣.🅚]

chapter 2

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The morning air hung thick with tension as the Kim family gathered around the dining table, an imposing setting of dark oak polished to perfection. The grand breakfast hall was lined with antique mirrors and tasteful decor, every element carefully chosen to showcase the family’s wealth and status. The golden light of dawn filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over the silverware and delicate china arranged meticulously on the table.

Mr. Kim  sat at the head, a position reserved for the head of the family—a subtle reminder of his position.
Beside him,there was Mrs.kim and just in front of her,there was Kim Taehyung,on the other side of table,the next heir. His presence alone commanded the room, a silent, brooding energy emanating from his elegantly poised frame.
The staff lined the walls, each maid and servant standing at full attention, their eyes downcast as they awaited orders. The slightest misstep in this household could be disastrous, and everyone knew it.

A frown crossed Taehyung’s face as he scanned the table, his gaze sharp and assessing. The slightest crease on his brow was a warning signal, understood by everyone. He looked up abruptly, his voice low but laced with irritation.

“My black coffee… where is it?” His words cut through the silence like a blade, each syllable enunciated with a simmering impatience.

The head maid, Hana, froze in place, her heart pounding as she processed the missed detail. Black coffee was a staple of Taehyung’s morning routine, as essential to him as oxygen. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and managed to stammer, “Young… young master, it’s on its way.”

A cold sweat broke across her forehead as she turned to make a hasty exit toward the kitchen. Her hands trembled, knowing full well the weight of Taehyung’s displeasure—a force that could turn any trivial matter into a tempest. She scurried off, praying that this minor delay would be forgiven, though her gut warned her otherwise.

Silence returned, interrupted only by the faint clinking of cutlery against fine porcelain as the family resumed their meal. Taehyung’s father, a distinguished figure in the world of politics, exchanged a glance with his wife, a woman whose elegance softened the edges of her husband’s formidable demeanor. Mrs. Kim’s gaze shifted to her son, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

“Tae, aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked, her voice warm, carrying a playful undertone.

Taehyung looked up, his dark eyes softening slightly as he tried to recall what he might have missed. “What do you mean, Mom?” he replied, genuinely puzzled.

Mrs. Kim’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “How could my bear forget? I thought you’d be counting down the days!” she teased, casting a glance at her husband, who shared her smile.

Before Taehyung could ponder further, a sudden searing sensation jolted him from his thoughts. Hot liquid had splashed across his thigh, and he looked down in disbelief at the steaming coffee now staining his perfectly tailored slacks. His gaze lifted slowly, his eyes blazing with fury as they locked onto the maid standing beside him—Hana, the unfortunate soul who had just returned with his drink.

Without warning, Taehyung rose to his feet, his face contorted with rage. His voice, low and venomous, slashed through the silence.

“You clumsy fool!” he snarled, his fists clenching at his sides. “How dare you spill this… filth on me! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

The entire room went still, a frozen tableau of horror and tension. The maid stood rooted to the spot, her face drained of color as she looked down at the marble floor, barely breathing. Taehyung’s anger was legendary, his temperament explosive—especially when it came to moments of disrespect or incompetence.