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Seungcheol sighed, indulging in a sip of whiskey as his thoughts meandered to the tangled mess he found himself in.
He sank into the soft cushions of the sofa, spreading his legs comfortably, a classic display of manspreading, as he allowed his thoughts to roam freely, filling the room with their bustling energy.
"Baby?" a voice resonated in the living room, moving with deliberate and sensual grace toward Seungcheol, who lifted his gaze from his glass of whiskey.
"Did I wake you?" Seungcheol whispered, his gaze lingering on her as she moved closer, each step filled with temptation and allure, drawing him in with a magnetic pull.
Kira hummed softly, her lips grazing slowly against each other, a deliberate gesture intended to captivate his attention, ensuring that his eyes were fixed on her every movement.
Without speaking a word, she straddled him, her eyes communicating desires that her lips didn't need to articulate.
In response, he emitted a low, throaty groan, drained his whiskey in a single gulp, and carelessly tossing the glass aside, all his attention now consumed by her presence, her proximity, and the tantalizing promise they held.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, while he clasped her waist tightly, his grip possessive, as his hands trailed down, exploring her curves and igniting a fire between them that burned hotter with each caress.
"Baby," she whispered, her voice a breathy plea as she rocked against him, her soft moans filling the room with desire.
Seungcheol closed his eyes, his head falling back against the sofa, his hands gripping her ass firmly as they both surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of their passion.
She peppered his neck with kisses, her hands exploring the contours of his well-built body, all while she continued to grind against him, craving the friction that would ignite their desire further.
Despite the physical sensations coursing through him, his mind still remained distant, lost in thoughts that kept him detached from the intensity of the moment.
Her fingers moved with a sense of urgency, their destination clear as they reached for the zip of his pants.
Yet, before she could proceed, Seungcheol's hand intercepted hers, halting her advance. "Let's go to bed, I'm tired," he lied.
She furrowed her brows, stopping her grinding in confusion. "Then let me help you relax, babe," she replied, her voice dripping with seduction, as she gracefully sank to her knees before him as he released a soft sigh.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed before replying, "Go to bed, Kira," his frustration evident as he wrestled with the thoughts clouding his mind, some of which revolved around Jisoo, preventing him from fully indulging in the moment.
"Are you serious right now?" she exclaimed, disbelief coloring her tone as she remained seated between his legs, her frustration evident.
"You've never turned away from my oral before. What changed? Did someone else satisfy you better? Is it that woman?" she spat, her words laced with bitterness, causing Seungcheol's expression to darken instantaneously.
"Don't," he spat back, his voice sharp as he rose to his full height, casting a formidable figure before her, still knelt on the floor. "Don't you fucking dare," he warned.
"Why do you care about her? And who is she, Seungcheol?" Kira retorted, her voice edged with frustration as she rose from her kneeling position. "When I tried to talk to you about her before, you avoided the conversation by turning to sex. And now you're suddenly not interested?"
"Kira, stay in your fucking lane and quit with these stupid questions. She's just business, nothing more," he retorted, his expression stern and his tone firm.
"Business?" Kira scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Then why were you kissing her, for fuck's sake?!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over as she watched his expression shift in an instant.
Without hesitation, his hand found its way to her neck, his fingers tightening around it as he drew closer, his eyes blazing with intensity as he pressed her against the wall, cutting off her air supply.
Kira gasped for breath, panic flooding her senses as she struggled against his grip, her eyes wide with fear.
"Have you forgotten how to respect me?" he growled, his fingers digging into her skin.
"What did I say a fucking moment ago? Enough with the stupid questions," Seungcheol continued, his voice low and dangerous.
"Why do you keep testing my patience when you know exactly what I'm capable of?" His eyes bore into hers, a silent warning in their intensity, as she clutched his wrist tightly, silently pleading for him to release his grip.
"P-please," she whispered, her voice strained as she struggled to draw in air, her desperation evident.
"You either go to bed and keep your mouth shut, or you get out of this fucking house," Seungcheol spat, his tone sharp.
With a final, intense glare, he released his grip on her, allowing her to draw in long, raspy breaths as she struggled to recover, her chest heaving with the effort.
Morning arrived swiftly, casting its light across the room where Jisoo lay still, her face contorted in a frown even in her sleep.
But it wasn't merely a nightmare; it was her reality, her actual life. And tragically, she felt powerless to change it.
She was trapped in a situation from which there seemed to be no escape, her dreams overshadowed by the harshness of her existence.
Jisoo slowly opened her eyes, exhaling deeply as her gaze landed on the ceiling above. Another day stretched out before her, and with a heavy heart, she resigned herself to facing whatever challenges lay ahead.
The knock on the door startled her awake, causing her to sit up abruptly on the bed. Instinctively, she pulled the blanket closer around her, seeking protection in its warmth as if it could protect her from the looming threat outside.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing a woman in her forties. Jisoo's brow furrowed slightly in confusion as the woman entered the room without a word, moving closer to her with purpose.
"Good morning, Ms. Choi," she began, her voice carrying an air of formality. "I've been sent here to inform you that today is the day we've scheduled for shopping for your wedding dress," she informed, delivering Jisoo's nightmare with a smile on her face.
"My name is Jisoo. Please, don't address me like that," Jisoo spoke softly, her voice hoarse from crying.
"I'm sorry, miss. Mr. Choi instructed me to address you in this manner," she explained, her tone apologetic.
"Seungcheol?" Jisoo asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
The woman shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Mr. Choi Dongyul. He sent me," she clarified gently.
Even the mention of his name made her stomach churn, every fiber of her being recoiling at the mere thought of him. She could feel every hair on her body standing on end, a visceral reaction to the memories and emotions his name invoked.
"Miss, I suggest you get ready for breakfast before we leave for shopping," the woman announced.
"I'm not hungry," Jisoo replied curtly, her appetite overshadowed by the turmoil within her.
"But you have to...Please, come downstairs in 30 minutes," the woman urged, a mixture of concern and seriousness etched onto her face as she made her way out without further ado, leaving Jisoo alone with her thoughts.
She sighed heavily, dragging herself out of bed, her legs feeling like lead and her body weak and unsteady. Each step felt like a struggle as she made her way to the bathroom, her exhaustion weighing heavily on her.
Moments later, Jisoo approached the door, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't prepared to leave the safety of that room, nor was she ready to face the challenges that awaited her outside.
But she knew she had to fight for herself. One thing was clear in her mind: she refused to become a mother at 19.
Jisoo opened the door and made her way downstairs, finding breakfast already laid out on the table. However, Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen.
Which, in a way, provided some relief. The last thing she wanted was to confront him face-to-face.
She took a seat at the table, returning the warm greetings of the servants with a polite nod and a faint smile. Despite her inner turmoil, she knew better than to take out her suffering on those who were simply doing their jobs.
"Excuse me," Jisoo called out to one of the maids, who immediately greeted her with a smile.
"Yes, miss. Do you need anything?" she softly replied.
"I noticed there's cat and dog food in the kitchen. Are there pets here?" Jisoo asked, a spark of interest lighting up her eyes at the thought of furry companions.
Just then, Seungcheol entered the room, having overheard Jisoo's question. His gaze swept over her face, scrutinizing every detail.
"No, miss. I'm sorry," the maid replied politely, her voice barely above a whisper as she caught a glimpse of Seungcheol.
Jisoo simply let out a soft sigh, offering the maid a brief nod of thanks before she turned her gaze straight ahead, where Seungcheol was already approaching the table, his eyes fixed on her.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she quickly averted her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes, not wanting to engage with him in any way.
He took a seat directly across from her, his eyes still fixed on her. An awkward silence settled between them as they began their breakfast, each lost in their own thoughts.
The woman who had entered Jisoo's room earlier returned, addressing Seungcheol. "Mr. Choi, today is the day we've scheduled for Ms. Choi's dress shopping," she announced.
Seungcheol nodded, acknowledging the woman's announcement. "Alright. You may leave now," he spoke tersely, his gaze lingering on Jisoo for a moment before turning away.
"Sir, I was asked to accompany her," she continued, her tone respectful yet firm as she awaited his response.
"You don't have to. I have the day off from the office, so I can go with her," he replied.
"I'll go with her," Jisoo replied immediately, her tone firm as she asserted her choice. Seungcheol lifted his eyes from his food to look at her, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.
He then turned his gaze to the woman, silently signaling for her to leave. She nodded in acknowledgment and quietly exited the room, leaving the two of them alone at the table.
"I'll accompany you. There's no need for further discussion," Seungcheol stated firmly, his tone brooking no opposition.
"Why can't you understand that I don't want you there?" she spat, her eyes shooting daggers at him as she voiced her frustration.
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And why can't you understand that I want to be there?" he retorted sharply, causing Jisoo to furrow her brows in response.
"Don't get me wrong. I need to be there. You're going to be my bride, so I need to have a say in choosing the dress. There will be many of my business partners present, and I need to make sure you look presentable," he continued, his tone tinged with a sense of obligation and authority.
She scoffed bitterly. "You can have a say in what dress I wear, but I can't even voice my opinion about not wanting to be your bride!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with frustration and defiance.
"Don't start this again," he snapped before standing up from his chair. "I'll be waiting outside. Eat your breakfast. You've lost a lot of weight," he murmured before making his way out.
Jisoo buried her face in her hands, teetering on the brink of tears. The reality of having to live day after day in the same house as him was almost too much to bear.
"Seungcheol is on the porch, sir," a maid announced, causing Jisoo to turn her gaze towards the door. She froze as Choi Dongyul approached her, uncertainty and apprehension creeping into her mind.
"I know. I'm not here for my son," he replied, his gaze shifting back to Jisoo, a smirk playing on his lips, sending a chill down her spine.
She immediately rose from her seat, a sudden urge propelling her towards Seungcheol as quickly as possible. Ironically, it was the first time she found herself wanting to be next to him.
"No, no. I need a word with you," Dongyul immediately caught her wrist, his grip firm as she winced, feeling nauseous and trapped.
"Let me go!" she cried out, her voice rising in panic as she struggled to break free from his grip, her heart racing with fear and desperation.
"Shut up. Your attitude is getting on my fucking nerves," he spat, his fingers tightening around her wrist as she whimpered in pain. It was the same hand from yesterday, and he was only making it worse.
"What's happening here?" a low and angry voice resonated in the room, cutting through the tension like a knife.
Seungcheol stood at the door, his gaze locked on the scene before him, a deep frown etched onto his face.
Then his eyes fell to his father's hand, which was tightly gripping her wrist, and Seungcheol understood the situation all too well. It was his father who had caused her bruising.
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to be continued...