ANKLET - YEONGYU - Force Marriage

4 - Anklet

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As the car rolled to a stop in front of Yeonjun’s grand mansion, Beomgyu felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The imposing structure loomed before him like a fortress, cold and unwelcoming. With each passing second, anxiety seeped into his bones, and when Yeonjun slammed the car door shut, it echoed in Beomgyu’s chest like a death knell.

Without a word, Yeonjun swung open the trunk and yanked Beomgyu’s suitcase out, tossing it carelessly onto the front steps. “Get out,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the chill in the air.

Swallowing hard, Beomgyu unbuckled his seatbelt, his hands trembling. He stepped out of the car, his legs feeling weak beneath him. The anklet around his ankle jingled softly with each hesitant step, a sound that only seemed to aggravate Yeonjun further.

Yeonjun marched toward the front door, not bothering to check if Beomgyu was following. Beomgyu hurried after him, his oversized hoodie and hidden shorts offering little protection against the biting wind. The mansion’s front door slammed shut behind them, reverberating through the vast, empty foyer. Despite the elegance of the marble floors and lavish decor, an oppressive air filled the space, suffocating Beomgyu’s spirit.

Yeonjun shoved Beomgyu, making him stumble. “Get used to it. This is where you’ll be living now, anklet boy,” he sneered, tossing the suitcase to the floor near the staircase.

Beomgyu barely had a moment to collect his thoughts when Yeonjun threw something at him. It hit him squarely in the chest, and he instinctively caught it, confusion flickering in his eyes. When he realized what it was—a black, frilly maid’s dress—shock washed over him.

“WEAR IT. NOW,” Yeonjun barked, his tone brooking no argument.

Beomgyu’s heart raced as he stammered, “Wh-what? Why do I have to—”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Yeonjun snapped, his gaze hardening. He took a menacing step closer, and Beomgyu’s breath hitched. “Put. It. On. Or do you want me to force you?”

Tears pricked at the corners of Beomgyu’s eyes, his hands trembling as they gripped the dress. “Please, Yeonjun, don’t make me do this,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yeonjun’s eyes darkened with irritation. He seized Beomgyu by the collar of his hoodie, yanking him close until their faces were inches apart. “You seem to be forgetting your place. You’re nothing here. A worthless little thing. You do as I say, and right now, I’m telling you to put on the damn dress,” he growled, fury simmering beneath the surface.

Beomgyu’s body shook with fear. He wanted to scream, to run, but the weight of his reality bore down on him. Slowly, he nodded, his lips quivering. “Okay... I’ll wear it.”

Yeonjun released him with a shove, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Good. Now hurry up. I’m not going to wait all day.”

With tears streaming down his face, Beomgyu picked up his suitcase and the maid’s dress, retreating to the nearby bathroom. He locked the door behind him, leaning against it as silent sobs racked his body. Staring at himself in the mirror, he felt lost, a stranger looking back. How had his life spiraled into this nightmare?

Changing into the humiliating outfit took every ounce of strength he had. The fabric clung uncomfortably to him, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. When he looked in the mirror again, he barely recognized the reflection—an unwilling servant in a twisted game.

A sharp knock on the door jolted him back to reality. “Hurry up, or I’m coming in there,” Yeonjun’s voice boomed.

Beomgyu quickly wiped his tears, taking a shaky breath before unlocking the door and stepping out. He kept his head down, unable to meet Yeonjun’s gaze.

Yeonjun’s eyes roamed over Beomgyu’s figure, amusement flickering across his features. “Perfect,” he said mockingly. “You look exactly like what you are—a servant.”

Beomgyu’s cheeks burned with humiliation, and he bit his lip to stifle another wave of tears.

“Now that you look the part,” Yeonjun continued, his voice dripping with disdain, “you’ll follow my rules. You clean this house, do my homework, and pay for everything you use. No exceptions.” He leaned in closer, his voice low and threatening. “And if you ever break any of my rules, you’ll regret it.”

“But... how can I pay for things? I don’t have any money...” Beomgyu whispered, desperation clawing at his heart.

Yeonjun sneered, crossing his arms. “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard to earn it. You don’t get anything for free here.”

Beomgyu’s tears flowed again, the weight of his situation crashing down on him. He felt utterly powerless, trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.

As if sensing Beomgyu’s vulnerability, Yeonjun’s gaze hardened on the anklet still jingling softly around his ankle. “That stupid anklet,” he spat, his disgust evident. “Take it off. I don’t want to see or hear it again.”

Beomgyu’s heart raced as he instinctively clutched the anklet. “No... I can’t take it off. My mom gave it to me. It’s all I have left of her...”

Yeonjun’s expression twisted with anger, and he grabbed Beomgyu’s wrist, his grip painfully tight. “I don’t care! It’s annoying, and if I hear it again, I’ll rip it off myself.”

“Please, Yeonjun... don’t...” Beomgyu whimpered, panic rising within him.

For a moment, Yeonjun’s grip tightened, then he released Beomgyu with an exasperated grunt. “Fine,” he said coldly, “but if I hear it again, it’s gone. Understand?”

Beomgyu nodded quickly, still trembling from the fear and humiliation that gripped him. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this nightmare.

A few moments later, Beomgyu found himself in the kitchen, his stomach growling with hunger. His eyes fell on a small snack in a container on the counter, and hope flickered in his heart. He reached for it, but just as his fingers brushed the container—

SLAM.

Yeonjun’s hand came down hard on the container, making Beomgyu jump. “Fifteen bucks,” Yeonjun sneered.

“But I’m hungry...” Beomgyu protested, desperation creeping into his voice.

“No money, no food, anklet bitch.” Yeonjun shoved Beomgyu hard, sending him crashing to the floor.

As Beomgyu lay there, trembling with fear and hunger, he realized that his life under Yeonjun’s control was going to be worse than he had ever imagined.

Suddenly, Yeonjun grabbed Beomgyu’s arm, dragging him away. “Where are we going?” Beomgyu managed to ask, his voice shaky.

“Into the haunted bedroom,” Yeonjun replied, his tone laced with mockery as he pulled Beomgyu toward a dimly lit hallway.

“Yeonjun, please! I’m scared of ghosts! Please don’t—” Beomgyu cried, panic rising in his chest.

“Sleep with the ghosts, gay anklet bitch,” Yeonjun shot back, throwing Beomgyu into the room and slamming the door behind him.

Beomgyu stood frozen, tears streaming down his cheeks. The darkness surrounded him, and he could feel the weight of fear settling over him. He pressed his back against the door, his heart racing as he strained to hear any sound in the suffocating silence.

Then, from the shadows, he heard a low, haunting sound—“Ohhh…”

Beomgyu’s heart dropped, and he cried out, “Yeonjun! Please! I’m scared!” His voice cracked with despair as he slid down to the floor, the reality of his situation crashing down on him. He hugged his knees to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as he faced the darkness, the fear of ghosts mingling with the terror of his new life.

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