WEDCUFFED (18+)

Captive

It was still dark when the car pulled into the private drive of the White Emperia. A lingering chill clung to the early morning air as the gates closed behind them with a soft mechanical sigh. Jin sat wordlessly beside Taehyung in the backseat of the sleek black Maybach, a ghost of himself, cradled by leather seats and silence.

Taehyung said nothing either, sipping from a paper coffee cup as his phone screen lit his sharp features. His wedding ring sat back on his finger-polished, gleaming. A trophy.

As they neared the estate's main building, a quiet flurry of activity began. The mansion's grand doors swung open to reveal a row of maids and butlers, dressed in pressed uniforms, bowing deeply. Mrs. Bo-Yoon stood at the center, regal in an ivory hanbok stitched with golden cranes.

"Welcome home," she said with an over-practiced smile, eyes flickering to Jin like she was inspecting a newly acquired heirloom.

A traditional red ribbon was stretched across the threshold. Jin stepped over it, silent, bowed politely to each family member. He wore a pale cream suit, his features unreadable.

The welcome was grand-subtle in its extravagance, steeped in old customs. Yet beneath every word of praise, every sip of ceremonial tea, there was an edge. Jin felt it. The stage was set.

...

As soon as the clatter of porcelain and the rustle of silk faded-family members retreating into lounges and corridors, and the staff quietly dispersing through the service doors-Bo-Yoon clapped her hands once, sharply, getting all the attention to herself as she announced with elegance,

"As today," she announced with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "is the first day of Seokjin being a Kim in our house, so according to our tradition, he will prepare his first breakfast as a newly wedded bride of the Kim household. No chefs are allowed in the kitchen."

Her words dropped into the room like a stone into still water.

Yoo-ri froze mid-step, her hand tightening around the railing of a nearby chair. "Mom," she said carefully, "he's not a bride. And it's not the Chosun Dynasty. This tradition-"

But Bo-Yoon's lacquered nails had already found her necklace, twirling it with a languid touch. "Do you think the snow outside stops falling just because you don't like winter, Yoo-ri? This house has its own seasons and you must go through it like others. We all did, no?"

Her voice was honeyed, but every syllable laced with steel but this time Yoo-ri was ready to argue,

"But Mom, he's still a man. Do you think he can handle the house chores like us? Take example of our Taehyungie. God forbid us if he ever stepped his feet in the kitchen, that's too without setting the kitchen ablaze."

"Look Yoo-ri, everyone has their own way of dealing things and let's not compare Taehyungie lifestyle with Seokjin's. I'm sure his Mom has must taught him well, right Jinnie?"

Yoo-ri furrowed her brows as she interrupted again,

"Still, you should-" before she could continue the argument,

"It's completely fine by me, Mrs Kim. You're right, I have been taught well to become his good husband." Jin said quietly to the sitting Bo-Yoon.

All heads turned.

He stood near the arched doorway, his silhouette framed by soft morning light and the fading scent of grilled abalone. The ivory hanbok had been replaced by something simpler-his silk pajama shirt loosely tucked into linen pants, the collar slightly askew. There was no fire in his eyes, only a kind of weary submission that looked almost holy.