●"The Devil Braids Hair Now?"
It was a slow afternoon.
I sat on the floor of the sunlit room, arms wrapped around my knees, hair half-dry after a shower.
Taehyun stood behind me on the couch, focused—his fingers weaving slowly through my endless strands of hair.
"Ow," I murmured.
"Hold still," he whispered. "You're always this dramatic?"
"You've never touched a brush in your life, have you?"
"I'm an artist, not a hairdresser."
"You're a criminal with soft hands," I muttered under my breath.
He smiled.
Just as he carefully twisted a final loop into the braid—the door burst open.
Junho, Minho, and Jinwoo all walked in.
Silence.
They stared.
Stared at Kim Taehyun, dark mafia prince, once called The Reaper in five languages—braiding his wife's hair like a doting husband in a k-drama.
And then—
they lost it.
> "OH. MY. GOD." Jinwoo screamed, holding the doorframe for support.
"IS THIS A HALLUCINATION OR A HONEYMOON?"
"I need holy water," Junho wheezed.
"Somebody exorcise him."
"The devil braids now," Minho said flatly.
"The world's ending."
Taehyun just rolled his eyes and kept braiding.
"Get out before I braid your tongues."
● Later That Night: Minho Quiet Warning
I found Minho on the balcony at midnight, hoodie up, eyes watching the city lights below like he owned them.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, arms folded.
"Can't think."
I hesitated, then sat on the cold railing beside him.
"You don't like me," I said.
"I don't like strangers with no past."
I didn't argue. Instead, I stared at the stars.
Then he added quietly,
"But I've seen the way he looks at you."
"I've never seen his eyes like that. Not even when our empire was burning."
I turned slowly.
"Do you think… I'm dangerous?"
"I think you're confused."
"But confusion can be fatal in our world."
I swallowed.
"I just want the truth."
Minho glanced sideways at me.
"Then stop running from the wrong people."
"And start trusting the right ones."
"Like you?"
"Like him."
His voice was so low it nearly vanished.
"He'd die before he lets anything happen to you. That kind of love's rare. Don't spit on it just because you're scared."
And with that, he disappeared into the night.
♡Later: Jinwoo's (Surprisingly Wise) Advice
I found Jinwoo in the garden the next day… talking to the koi fish.
"You think she's falling for him?" he asked the orange one.
"Don't blink if you agree."
"You're insane," I said, laughing.
"Not insane. Enlightened."
He patted the bench beside him.
"Come, little criminal bride."
I sat, sighing.
"Why does everyone think I'm a spy or a bomb in a dress?"
"Because you're too quiet to be harmless."
I raised a brow.
"And you think I'm dangerous?"
"No," Jinwoo said, suddenly serious.
"I think you're scared.
Scared of how deeply you feel. Scared of how much power you already have over him."
I blinked.
He smiled, for real this time.
"Let me give you advice no one gave me when I ruined my own chance at love."
I leaned in.
"If someone holds your broken pieces with bloodied hands and never once flinches—
don't run from them.
Heal with them."
My eyes stung.
"You joke a lot."
"Because if I don't, I'll drown."
● The Ceremony
Today had been the university's big ceremony—awards, announcements, speeches.
Everyone was dressing up. Cameras. Guests. Mess.
It was the first time I had worn heels in months. A black dress, long, with my sleek hair left open. Subtle eyeliner, nude lips.
My bestie had gasped the moment she saw me.
"Damn, girl. The man who forced you into marriage might just fall for you."
I rolled my eyes. "He hasn't even seen me yet. He won't even be there."
"Please," she had snorted. "If he sees you in that dress? The world will shake."
We laughed as we walked across campus.
The hall was full. Professors. Students. The Dean. Everyone.
I barely stepped inside when it happened.
A boy stepped right in front of me.
Tall, confident. Campus-famous. Girls loved him. I had spoken to him maybe twice?
He grinned and raised his voice. "Can I have everyone's attention?!"
Oh no.
"I want to confess something… to the most attractive, stubborn, and hard-to-get girl in this university."
Then he turned to me, holding a bouquet.
"I don't know what magic you did to me, but I can't get you out of my head. Will you go out with me?"
Gasps. Phones filming. Whispers. Eyes on me.
My bestie grabbed my arm like she was watching a car crash.
I stepped back. "I'm not interested. Please stop—"
He laughed. "Why not? One date. Just one. I promise I'll make you forget whoever's in your head."
He leaned closer.
And that was when the air changed—
Taehyun appeared.
Sharp suit. Cold eyes. Silent fury wrapped in silk.
Before anyone could process it, he shoved the boy back with one hand.
The guy stumbled into the chairs with a loud clatter. Gasps exploded around the hall.
"Touch her again," Taehyun said, voice like ice, "and you'll leave this university in a body bag."
Everyone froze.
My heart pounded. The guy looked up, terrified.
Taehyun didn't even blink. He stepped in front of me, placing a possessive hand on my waist.
"She's taken," he said loud enough for the entire crowd.
The whispers erupted:
"No way—"
"Taken?!"
"By who?!"
He looked around the room with that terrifying calm.
"By me."
Dead silence.
I stared up at him, breath caught.
He met my eyes. Not soft. Not sorry. But mine.
The room stayed frozen.
Taehyun's arm remained around my waist. The boy he had pushed scrambled away, humiliated. Students were stunned. Professors whispered.
The Dean—stern, respected—stepped forward, disbelief heavy on his face.
"Professor Kim Taehyun," the Dean said coldly. "What is the meaning of this?"
Taehyun straightened, his grip on me unshifting.
"We're married," he said simply.
The Dean's eyes widened. "You… married a student? Without notifying the board? Without approval? Do you understand the scandal this could cause?"
My head pounded. My ears rang.
The Dean turned to me, his voice low but sharp. "Is this true?"
I barely managed a nod.
He dragged a hand down his face. "Unbelievable. Do you two have any idea what this could do to your reputations?
Your career, Kim Taehyun—your license."
"She is my wife," Taehyun said again, darker this time.
"No matter what it costs me."
The Dean stared at him, then at me. "This conversation isn't over. My office. Tomorrow morning."
He stormed off.
---
● Backstage Confrontation (Past Tense)
The second we got behind the stage curtain—away from the lights, the crowd, the cameras—I yanked his arm.
"What the hell was that?!" I whisper-shouted, shoving his chest. "Why would you say that in front of everyone?!"
He said nothing, chest rising and falling beneath my hand.
"You exposed everything! You ruined your job, your image! What if they fire you?! What if I get expelled?! Why? Why?!"
Suddenly, my back hit the wall.
His arms caged me in, one on each side of my head.
"You want the truth?" he breathed. "Because seeing another man even look at you like that made me want to destroy everything."
I froze.
He leaned closer, voice rough and low.
"I've kept it quiet. I've given you space. I've let you walk ahead of me like I'm just some shadow in your life. But I can't do it anymore."
His forehead pressed gently to mine.