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...
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Soft hum of the morning filled the opulent room where I was getting ready. Sunlight streamed through the towering windows, illuminating the intricate marble floors and casting warm patterns on the grand walls adorned with ornate carvings. The golden hues of the morning felt surreal, as if the universe itself had conspired to make this day feel like a dream.
The suite I had been given was nothing short of regal. Velvet drapes framed the windows, and an antique chandelier hung above me, its crystal pieces catching the sunlight and scattering rainbows across the room. A plush chaise lounge sat by the window, and on it lay the robe I'd shed just moments earlier. It felt strange, standing in the middle of such luxury, knowing that this wasn't just any day—it was the day.
I adjusted the collar of my shirt, my hands trembling slightly as I stood before the full-length mirror. The man staring back at me looked calm, composed, and, if I was being honest, stunning. My finely tailored suit was a deep midnight blue, the fabric shimmering faintly when it caught the light. The lapels were lined with subtle black embroidery, the details delicate and intricate—every stitch seemed to whisper of elegance and purpose. San hadn't seen this suit yet; I wanted it to be a surprise. He thought he had picked everything, but this was my choice—a piece of me I wanted to keep hidden until the moment I stood in front of him.
Outside the room, the palace was alive with motion. I could hear muffled voices—event planners giving final instructions, the clink of cutlery being arranged for the reception, and the soft hum of classical music drifting through the halls. The scale of the event was overwhelming. The palace, with its sprawling marble steps and towering golden doors, could host a royal coronation, yet today it was ours. Hundreds of guests were arriving, dressed in their finest, each ready to witness the moment San and I promised forever to each other.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my reverie. "Mr. Wooyoung, your bridal party is here," a gentle voice announced.
"Come in," I said, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
The door opened to reveal my closest friends, my support system—Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho, my best men, followed by my bridesmaids, who had already been buzzing with excitement since early morning. They entered like a whirlwind of energy and reassurance, their presence immediately grounding me.
Yeosang stepped forward first, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe. He was dressed impeccably, his suit tailored to perfection, yet somehow, he still made me feel like I was the center of attention. "You look... unreal," he said, his voice filled with genuine awe. He reached out to adjust my tie, his movements careful and steady. "San is not ready for this."
Mingi, towering and ever the jokester, let out a low whistle as he crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe. "You sure you're not trying to outshine him?" he teased, though his wide grin betrayed his pride. "You look like you walked out of a movie."
