#2 in fanfiction🏅
𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗙𝗜𝗔 𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘
'𝘼𝙨 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣'
Kim Y/n was meant to be a leverage, an arranged bride offered to the Ko...
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FOUR MONTHS LATER
The renovations on our estate are finally complete, but my wife prefers the penthouse now.
I've spoiled her—and myself—far too much, taking her to work at Nova every day.
Having Y/n there has slowed my work and wrecked her grades, though I can't bring myself to care when she's sprawled out for me on my desk, moaning my name.
I've taken every opportunity to have her—against bookshelves, over conference tables mere minutes before a meeting, and my personal favorite, in the elevator.
She used to tremble with nerves every time we stepped inside one.
Now, she trembles for entirely different reasons.
One morning before work, I dropped to my knees, tasted her until she begged, and now?
Now she gets wet the second those doors close.
When we aren't at work, we indulge.
Dinners at the freshly restored Serene, lunches at the Restaurant she loves.
But no matter where we go, she always ends up in my lap, my hands under her skirt, my mouth pressed to her ear, reminding her exactly who she belongs to.
Eunwoo and Yeonjun have taken to different sectors of our family business since Y/n has been with me full time, choosing to continue online classes instead of in person.
They still steal her away for the occasional poker game.
My father is doing well in rehabilitative therapy, for an old man he's well on his way to healing, his next venture is to retire in Seoul.
As for my brother, I have yet to speak to him, it's the longest we've gone and the fact that he hasn't demanded I speak to him, further proves my suspicions that he has been hiding something.
At the penthouse, I watch Y/n paint as I go over details about Artemis and Lilac for Zeus.
Lee Ran has a flagship on all things AI, and combining WesTech with Nova on this new endeavor is proving more difficult than we previously anticipated.
I grab my notepad and flip the page where I sketch the design for my next gadget when the soft swish of her brush against the canvas pulls my attention.
She hums softly, lost in her own world, the sunlight catching in her hair as she tilts her head.
There's a small crease between her brows—the same one she gets when she's focused, the one that makes her impossibly beautiful.
I steal a glance before returning to my notes, but I don't miss the moment when she turns to me, her hands on her hips.
