Choi San, a revered and feared mafia boss, reigns over Seoul's underworld with an iron fist, his influence extending seamlessly across both legal and illegal domains. But his empire is shaken to its core when his beloved daughter, Eun-ji, is kidnapp...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The evening air was crisp, carrying a faint chill as I stood in our bedroom, staring at the overnight bag resting on the edge of the bed. My hands hovered over it, frozen in place as if packing one more item would somehow cement the reality of what was about to happen. Tomorrow, I was marrying San.
The thought was enough to send my heart into overdrive. It wasn't fear—at least not the kind that made you want to run. It was more like the weight of the moment settling into every corner of my chest. This was it: the beginning of our forever. A lifetime with the man who had become my anchor, my safe harbor, my family.
I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I tried to focus on what I was doing. My fingers brushed over the edge of the bag, but instead of zipping it shut, I found myself staring blankly at the folded clothes inside. The nervous flutter in my stomach, which had been a constant companion for the past two days, stirred again. This wasn't just pre-wedding jitters. I felt nauseous, the queasiness sitting heavy in my gut like a storm threatening to break. But I hadn't said anything—not to San, not to anyone.
It wasn't something I wanted to bring up. Tomorrow was too important, and I didn't want to worry San or add any more stress to an already hectic time. I just needed to push through it, to keep it together until after the ceremony. Once the vows were exchanged and we were officially husbands, I could collapse into his arms and let it all out. Until then, I had to hold myself steady.
I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and letting my gaze wander. My suit for tomorrow hung on the back of the closet door, a tangible reminder of what lay ahead. It was perfect, thanks to Ae-ri and Zi-ah's impeccable taste, but even the sight of it made my chest tighten. The day was going to be beautiful—San had made sure of that. He had planned every detail with his usual precision, wanting it to be perfect for both of us. But what if I ruined it? What if the nerves or the nausea got the better of me?
My hands gripped the edge of the bed as I tried to steady myself, closing my eyes to block out the spiral of thoughts. This isn't about perfection, I reminded myself. It's about love. And if there was one thing I was absolutely certain of, it was my love for San. Nothing—not nerves, not nausea, not even my own self-doubt—could shake that.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Wooyoung?" San's voice was low, warm, and immediately grounding. "You okay in there?"
I turned my head, offering him a smile as he stepped into the room. He was already dressed casually for our night away, his sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly tousled. He looked so effortlessly calm, so in control, and it made me feel a little steadier just having him near.
"Yeah," I said, my voice a touch too bright as I stood and gestured to the bag. "Just finishing up."
San's sharp eyes caught the hesitation in my movements, and he crossed the room in a few strides. His hands found my shoulders, his touch gentle but firm. "Hey," he murmured, tilting his head to meet my gaze. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know."
