He was the king of the underworld — at just 26, he ruled with blood-stained hands and an expression colder than steel. Kim Taehyung. A name whispered in fear, never spoken aloud. He had it all — power, money, a throne built on silence and fear. But inside? A hollow man, aching, broken, and desperate for something real in a world where everything was bought, used, or destroyed.
Then came her.
Seventeen. Sweet, warm-hearted, untouched by the cruelty of his world. Lee Y/N was a simple schoolgirl who loved the rain, read poetry, and baked on weekends. She wore innocence like sunlight — and he had no right to reach for that light.
~But fate didn't care.~
Their marriage wasn't their choice — arranged by his dying parents, who believed a girl like her could soften the monster their son had become. He hated it. Resisted it. Until the first night he saw her sitting quietly in his cold mansion, placing a small flower pot by the window and whispering to herself:
"I'll make this place feel like home. Even if it never was mine."
He saw something in her that shattered him quietly.
She wasn't scared of him — not really. She was cautious, yes, but gentle with him in ways that no one had ever dared to be. She asked if he'd eaten. She left little notes by his door. She gave him silence when he needed it — and presence when he didn't ask for it.
But he was guilty.
Every time she smiled, his chest tightened. She didn't choose this. He did. He trapped her here, into a life she didn't deserve. And yet, selfishly, he couldn't let her go.
She was his last hope. His only light. The final piece of his soul that hadn't turned to stone.
So, he kept his distance by day — cold, unreadable. But at night, he stood by her bedroom door, listening to the quiet hum of her singing. And sometimes, when the guilt didn't choke him too hard, he would whisper to the dark:
"I'm sorry for caging you. But you're the only thing that makes me want to live."
And slowly… she began to see it. The man behind the monster. The boy behind the blood. And she reached out with a kind hand, not to save him, but to simply say:
"You're not as alone as you think."