Minho and Sullyoon came from the criminal underworld, where loyalty was currency and reputation everything. Their marriage had been arranged since Sullyoon was five. Minho’s family led the most notorious kkangpae syndicate in Korea, while Sullyoon’s family, still rising in rank, had aligned themselves strategically with the Lees. The marriage was less about love and more about legacy—a perfect alliance to strengthen their bond.

When they met for the first time, it wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t effortless either. Sullyoon was quiet and introspective, speaking only when necessary. Her elegance was understated—never flashy, never loud. She carried herself like someone who had learned early how to disappear when needed.

Minho, on the other hand, was sharp-tempered and cold, quick to irritate. But with Sullyoon, something shifted. He tried to be patient, and to his surprise, it worked. Over time, she opened up. Their conversations became less awkward, more fluid—genuine, even.

At 20 and 24, they officially tied the knot. Sullyoon moved into Minho’s mansion, and to everyone’s surprise, their life together ran more smoothly than expected. Both of them made the effort. There were quiet acts of affection—thoughtfully chosen gifts, late-night cups of tea, shared silences that said more than words ever could.

Their relationship became a mystery to those around them. Did they love each other? Barely tolerate one another? Did they even speak behind closed doors?

No one really knew. And the couple preferred it that way.

A few months later, Sullyoon became pregnant. But the pregnancy was difficult—fevers, fatigue, and constant pain left her bedridden more often than not. Through it all, Minho never left her side. He brought her medicine, held her hand through doctor visits, and sat beside her when the nights got too long.

Nine months later, they welcomed their daughter, Lee Minji.

After that, the couple was often seen at the main Lee estate—the heart of their empire. Minho would hold Minji gently in his arms, dressed in soft, oversized onesies. He was a natural. Every movement was precise and instinctive, his arms perfectly cradling her tiny body. It was as if fatherhood had always been waiting inside him, just for her.

Sullyoon would watch quietly from a distance, her smile warm and full of something deeper than contentment. She saw it in his eyes—the way he looked at Minji, the way his touch softened around their daughter, the way he reached for Sullyoon without thinking.

He wasn’t a man of many words. But in those quiet, unspoken gestures—his love echoed louder than anything he could ever say.

For their daughter. And for Sullyoon, too.