The First Night of Marriage

Daniel was leaning on the bed, unable to sleep, glancing at you as you lay there. His eyes were fixed on the ring on his finger.

His usual nightmares—the death of his parents, watching them being murdered right before his eyes—haunted him. He clenched his fists and got out of bed.

He needed revenge. But he would continue until his vengeance was complete.

Both companies had reached an agreement, and the papers were signed. Your parents.

They were the ones who had killed Daniel’s family.

Your parents were just a newly established business, almost like criminals. But they had taken everything from Daniel’s parents—even their power. Yet it wasn’t enough. He rose again, stronger than before, a man of power at only twenty-six.

And you were now his wife.

He picked up a pillow and stared at your face. You were sleeping peacefully. His hands trembled with vengeance and madness—the urge to strangle you right there because you were in his grasp.

One Month Later

Morning. Front-page headlines: “Alexander Hong Suffers Heart Attack.”

Your family’s business had quickly collapsed. Everything had fallen apart.

You were locked in your room, crying.

He could hear you, but he didn’t care. He knew what death meant.

The one who had killed your father was Daniel Park. And now it was time for him to take his revenge. But it still wasn’t enough. He had become pure madness—emotionless and ruthless, like vengeance itself, like hell, like a monster.

The Next Day

Daniel was in his office, sitting at his desk, working, when he heard a knock.

“Come in,” he said in a cold tone.

The door opened, and you entered. Daniel glanced at you, then closed his laptop and crossed his legs.

“Look at yourself. You haven’t eaten in days,” he said.

He wasn’t worried. He was ready to hunt—you were like prey whenever he wanted.

“What… about the company… what are you going to do?” you asked, your voice trembling, eyes cast downward. Dressed in black, your body shaking.

“What do you think? The company’s shares have dropped. What are you going to do—run it yourself?”

He asked quietly and coldly, his gaze locked on you. He rested his elbows on the desk, leaning forward.