The night air was thick with tension as he sat in his dimly lit study, the weight of his empire pressing down on him like a shroud. At thirty-two, he had fashioned himself into the most feared figure in the underworld; a name whispered in reverence and dread. His parents had ensured that his would ascend to this throne of darkness, but the cost of power was etched into every corner of his life

To the world, he is a king, adorned with wealth and influence that could crush any opposition. But within the fortress of his home, he was a gilded cage, its bars carved from the expectations of his lineage. The day he married Sushmita—a girl barely old enough to grasp the gravity of her new life—felt like a forced act in a tragic play, dictated by his family’s incessant need for a maid

At sixteen, her youth was a stark contrast to his hardened existence, and yet, she bore the weight of his household's demands without a word of complaint. Her days blurred into a haze of chores, the echo of her footsteps a reminder of the life he had trapped her in. He had looked at her, once or twice, only to glance away, not wanting to acknowledge the person trapped behind the façade

The nights were a different story. He had promised himself that intimacy would be merely a transaction, devoid of emotion. His touch was mechanical, a duty performed under the moonlight, absent of warmth. She complied, lost in the labyrinth of her new reality, while he remained an unfeeling king, wrestling with shadows that danced around my conscience

Taehyung: he enter house after work he look at his parents who is sitting on couch watching TV

Taehyung's mom: oh son you back come sit

Taehyung's dad: you must be hungry and tried come sit