"The hardest part of loving a superstar is not the distance or the flashing cameras; it is the quiet mornings when you wake up to an empty bed, clutching a piece of paper that holds his warmth, while a cold, unstoppable shadow creeps up from behind."
The bright, piercing rays of the morning sun spilled ruthlessly across the massive master bedroom, but as my eyelids slowly fluttered open, the familiar warmth that usually enveloped my body was entirely absent.
I instinctively reached out my arm, my fingers sliding across the luxurious silk sheets, searching for the solid, burning chest of my fiancé. But the mattress beside me was completely cold, the pillows unruffled.
A heavy, instinctive wave of loneliness washed over my chest. After the beautiful, chaotic intensity of the past few days—the proposal, the passionate nights, and our ridiculous, playful pillow wars—waking up completely alone felt like a bucket of ice water to my soul. I had grown so deeply addicted to waking up trapped inside his massive arms, being turned into a literal blanket burrito, and receiving a barrage of soft morning kisses against my neck.
I let out a soft, melancholic sigh, sitting up against the headboard.
That was when my eyes landed on the nightstand. Rested right beside a beautifully arranged plate of steaming hot breakfast and a freshly brewed cup of coffee was a crisp, white piece of paper.
I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked up the note. Woonseok's sharp, elegant, and instantly recognizable handwriting filled the page:
I am so incredibly sorry, my beautiful Butterfly. An emergency, last-minute schedule change forced me to leave for the commercial shoot exceptionally early this morning. I hated leaving you alone in bed while you were sleeping so peacefully. I am so sorry, my Butterfly. I love you, and I am already missing you so much it hurts.
Please make sure you eat the breakfast I prepared for you, and take absolute, perfect care of yourself today. Be completely ready by 8:00 PM tonight. I will be back to pick you up for dinner at my mom and dad's house, okay? Do not take any stress about it. Just relax. I love you.
— Your Husband.
A massive, uncontrollable smile instantly broke across my face, the heavy loneliness in my chest completely evaporating into thin air. I clutched the note tightly against my chest, my heart fluttering violently at those last two words.
Your Husband.
"Okay, my husband," I whispered softly into the quiet room, a deep blush staining my cheeks.
I forced myself out of bed, walking into the bathroom to freshen up. The warm water helped wake up my tired muscles, and as I sat at the kitchen counter eating the delicious breakfast he had meticulously prepared for me, I felt a profound sense of peace. I could handle anything as long as I had him.
BRRRING! BRRRING!
Suddenly, the loud, intrusive ringing of my phone shattered the quiet domestic bliss of the kitchen.
I glanced at the screen, and my heart instantly stopped dead in my chest. The caller ID read: Seoul Private Clinic — Dr. Han.
The piece of toast in my hand suddenly felt like lead. My throat went completely dry as a wave of intense, suffocating tension violently hijacked my nervous system. I took a shallow, trembling breath and swiped the screen.
"Y-Yeoboseyo?" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
"Ms. Sana?" Dr. Han's voice came through the speaker. It didn't hold the warm, reassuring tone she had used yesterday. It was completely grave, clinical, and heavy with professional urgency. "I am calling regarding the full blood panel and the neurological checkups we performed yesterday."
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned completely white. "Yes, Doctor. Is... is everything okay? What do the reports say?"
There was a long, agonizing pause on the other end of the line. The heavy silence made the blood rush loudly in my ears.
"Ms. Sana, can you come to the clinic today?" Dr. Han asked seriously, completely evading my question. "And please... make sure you come with a guardian, or anyone close to you. Do not come alone."
A cold, terrifying dread instantly pooled in the bottom of my stomach. My breathing turned rapid and shallow.
"Doctor..." I gasped out, tears of sudden panic prickling the corners of my eyes. "Please just tell me. Is there a problem with the report? Why do I need a guardian? Am I... am I really sick?"
"I cannot disclose the details of a critical diagnostic report over the telephone, Ms. Sana," Dr. Han stated firmly, though a trace of deep sympathy slipped into her voice. "It is highly imperative that you come to my office so we can discuss the next steps. It is better if you come immediately."
My mind completely violently spiraled. Tonight was the dinner with Woonseok's elite family. The formidable Mrs. Jang was expecting me. Woonseok was so incredibly happy, so profoundly proud to finally bring me home as his official fiancée. If I went to the hospital right now and received terrible, life-altering news, it would completely destroy tonight. It would ruin his happiness. I couldn't do that to him. I couldn't trouble him right now.
"Doctor..." I swallowed the massive lump of terror in my throat, forcing my voice to steady. "Can I please come tomorrow instead? Actually... I am a little bit busy today. It is a very, very important I can't make it this afternoon."
Another heavy pause.
"Okay, then," Dr. Han reluctantly agreed, letting out a sharp sigh. "Tomorrow morning, first thing. But please, make absolutely sure to you come with some guardian. Do you understand, Sana? Do not come by yourself."
"Okay, Doctor. Thank you," I whispered numbly.
I cut the call, dropping the phone onto the marble counter. The moment the connection severed, a sudden, blindingly violent spike of pain drove straight through the front of my skull.
"Ahh!" I whimpered loudly, clutching my head with both hands as the room began to violently spin around me.
The intense, throbbing iron spike was back, sharper and more aggressive than before. The sheer anxiety from the doctor's words was triggering the headache with full force.
Don't worry, I told myself frantically, squeezing my eyes shut as tears slipped down my face. It will be nothing. It's just a severe migraine from stress. Sana, just relax. Don't overthink. You cannot ruin tonight for Woonseok.
With violently shaking hands, I scrambled to find the prescription medicine Dr. Han had given me yesterday. I popped the pill into my mouth, swallowing it down with a glass of water. Walking blindly back into the bedroom, I crawled under the covers, curling into a tight ball, desperately praying for the medicine to kick in and hide the shadow before evening arrived.
By the time the sun began to set, casting long, dark violet shadows across the Seoul skyline, the heavy sedative in the medicine had finally managed to blunt the sharpest edges of my headache. The pain was still there—a dull, ominous throb lingering at the back of my mind—but I forced it down with pure, unadulterated willpower.
Tonight was the night.
As the clock crept closer to 7:00 PM, an entirely different kind of panic violently hijacked my body. I was so incredibly nervous to meet my future in-laws. The Jangs were one of the most powerful, elite families in the country, and I was just an independent novelist from a completely different culture.
The master bedroom was in a state of absolute, total chaos.
The massive king-sized bed was completely buried under a rush of so many different clothes. Dresses, skirts, modern chic outfits—everything was scattered everywhere as I desperately tried to find something appropriate.
Ultimately, my eyes landed on a specific box I had brought with me from home.
Show them exactly who you are, Sana, Woonseok's reassuring words from last night echoed beautifully in my mind. Because who you are is completely, utterly perfect.
A soft, confident smile touched my lips. I reached into the box and pulled out a stunning, vibrant red georgette saree.
Thirty minutes later, I stood in front of the massive full-length mirror, completely transformed. The lightweight, flowing crimson fabric draped flawlessly across my body, beautifully hugging every curve and perfectly highlighting my waist where the fabric was intricately pleated. I had paired it with a matching, elegant sleeveless blouse that left my entire back completely exposed.
I applied a layer of soft, cinematic makeup, enhancing my eyes with a stroke of dark kohl. On my left hand, I slipped on a stunning array of delicate red and golden bangles that chimed melodically with every single movement. I placed a cute, tiny silver pendant around my neck that rested right against my collarbone, and finished the look by placing a tiny, traditional black bindi right between my eyebrows.
My dark hair was completely open, falling down my back in soft, beautiful, cascading curls.
I was almost entirely ready, except for one glaring issue. Because the blouse had an intricate, traditional tie-back design, the long silk strings at the back were completely open, hanging loosely against my bare skin. I was currently holding a curling iron, trying to fix a stubborn strand of hair near my face, while blindly reaching behind my back to gather the strings.
Click.
The distant sound of the front penthouse door opening echoed through the quiet apartment.
"Butterfly! I'm home!" Woonseok's deep, booming voice carried through the hallway. I could hear the rapid, eager thud of his footsteps approaching the bedroom. "Are you ready—"
The bedroom door pushed open.
Jang Woonseok walked into the room, a bright, beautiful smile on his handsome face. But the moment his dark eyes landed on me standing in the center of the room, he absolutely, completely froze.
The breath completely left his lungs.
Woonseok stood entirely paralyzed in the doorway, his sleek designer briefcase slipping from his fingers and hitting the carpet with a soft thud. His intense, dark gaze scanned slowly from the top of my curled hair, down the elegant slope of my bare, exposed shoulders, tracing the sharp, dangerous curve of my slim waist emphasized by the crimson georgette, all the way down to the floor.
I turned my head toward him, my face instantly flushing an incredibly bright shade of pink at the sheer intensity of his stare.
In the dim evening light of the bedroom, I watched as Woonseok's dark eyes actually turned a slight, dangerous shade of red, a deep, primal desire violently flaring within his gaze. He looked at me as if I were a vision, looking so breathtakingly beautiful, hot, and incredibly sexy all at the exact same time. His jaw was tightly clenched, his chest rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.
I bit my lower lip, nervously turning back toward the mirror as I continued curling my hair, trying to break the heavy, suffocating silence.
"Ahh, Woonseok, you are home!" I said, my voice trembling slightly with shyness. "I am just about ready. Can you... can you help me? I need you to tie the knot of my blouse. And help me fix my pleats down here, they keep slipping."
Woonseok didn't say a single word.
He slowly kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. With slow, deliberate, and incredibly predatory strides, he closed the distance between us. Every single step he took felt heavily magnetic, sending my heart into an absolute overdrive against my ribs.
He stepped up right behind me, his towering, massive figure completely engulfing my reflection in the mirror.
Before I could even blink, Woonseok's large, warm hands reached out, wrapping securely around my slim, exposed waist from behind. He pulled my back flush against his hard chest, caging me completely.
A slow, devastatingly wicked smirk spread across his sharp face as he looked at my flustered reflection in the glass.
"Butterfly," Woonseok whispered, his deep morning-style voice dropping into a husky, dangerously low register that vibrated straight through my bare spine. "Do you have any absolute idea what you just did to me?"
I smiled nervously, my hands shaking as I set the curling iron down on the vanity. I looked at him through the mirror, my eyes wide. "What?"
Woonseok didn't answer with words.
He leaned his head down, his dark hair brushing against my shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed a hot, lingering, and incredibly deep kiss right against the center of my bare, exposed back.
"Ahh—" I gasped, my eyes widening as a violent, breathless shiver of absolute pleasure shot through my entire body.
He didn't stop there. Woonseok dragged his lips slowly up the column of my spine, moving to the sensitive skin of my neck, planting a slow, bruising kiss right beneath my ear. His long fingers tightened possessively against the skin of my bare waist, his thumbs stroking the curve of my hip.
My entire face erupted into a furious, burning shade of crimson. I felt completely melted, entirely helpless against his touch.
"Woon..." I whined softly, trying to turn my head away from his intoxicating lips. "Stop it, Mr. Idol... please. We have to leave right now. Your parents are literally waiting for us."
Woonseok let out a deep, rough groan against my skin, his arms tightening around me like steel bands.
"You know..." Woonseok murmured huskily, his dark eyes sparkling with absolute, dangerous mischief in the mirror. "We can just go to dinner tomorrow instead. I can call my manager right now and tell him my car broke down. We can just stay right here... in this room... for the rest of the night."
I let out a breathless, flustered laugh, my heart hammering violently. I pulled my hands free and placed them flat against his broad chest, physically pushing him backward with absolutely zero success.
"You absolute pervert!" I scolded him, my voice completely dripping with a furious blush as I glared at him in the mirror. "Just help me tie this knot, okay?! I am seriously seeing that you are flirting so much with me these days! Where did the cold, untouchable Sovereign go, hmm?"
Woonseok threw his head back, a rich, beautiful laugh echoing through the bedroom. He loved seeing me this flustered.
"The Sovereign was completely destroyed the moment you put on this red dress, my wife," Woonseok chuckled deeply, finally releasing my waist.
He reached down, his large, gentle fingers gathering the two loose silk strings of my blouse. He moved with surprising care, his warm knuckles grazing my bare skin as he skillfully tied the strings into a tight, perfect, and elegant knot at the center of my back. Then, he knelt down completely on the floor, his large hands carefully straightening the crimson georgette pleats near my feet, ensuring the fabric draped flawlessly around my slim waist.
When he stood back up, he pressed one last, sweet kiss to my cheek.
"Perfect," Woonseok whispered with immense pride, looking at me as if I were the greatest treasure in the universe. "Give me ten minutes to change. Then, we will go conquer the Jang empire."
Twenty minutes later, Woonseok emerged from the closet looking absolutely breathtaking. He had changed into a tailored, deep Black suit that perfectly complemented the vibrant red of my saree. His dark hair was styled flawlessly, his sharp jaw clean-shaven.
He walked up to me, extending his broad arm for me to take.
I wrapped my hand securely around his bicep, the delicate red and golden bangles chiming softly in the quiet room. As we walked out of the penthouse and stepped into the private elevator, descending toward the luxury sedan waiting in the lobby, I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second.
The dull, ominous throb was still lingering at the front of my head, a terrifying countdown to tomorrow's doctor appointment. But as I looked up at Woonseok's strong, confident profile, I buried the fear deep down into the dark.
Tonight, I was his fiancée. Tonight, I was going to be his wife. And nothing was going to steal this moment away from us.
"We spend our entire lives terrified of closed doors, assuming the monsters of judgment and rejection are waiting on the other side. But sometimes, when the door finally opens, you don't find monsters. You find a family that has simply been waiting for you to come home."
The sleek, midnight-black Maybach glided to a smooth halt in the sweeping, circular driveway of the Jang family estate.
Calling it a "house" was an absolute understatement. Through the tinted windows of the car, I stared up at a towering, multi-story modern mansion constructed of sleek glass, dark wood, and immaculate stone, surrounded by acres of perfectly manicured, snow-covered gardens. It looked less like a family home and more like a five-star luxury fortress.
The engine clicked off. The absolute silence inside the car was deafening.
Before Woonseok's driver could even step out to open our doors, an overwhelming wave of sheer, unadulterated panic violently crashed over me.
"Wait!" I gasped, lunging sideways across the leather seat.
I grabbed Woonseok's hand in a vice-like grip, my red and golden bangles violently clashing together. My heart was hammering so fast it felt like it was going to completely break through my ribs.
"Mr. Idol, wait, please!" I pleaded, my eyes wide with terror as I stared at the imposing front door. "I am so nervous! I can't do this! I am absolutely going to mess this up! What should I even say to them? Do I call them Ma'am and Sir? Mr. and Mrs. Jang? Uncle and Aunty?!"
Woonseok didn't move. He sat completely relaxed in his tailored charcoal suit, his broad shoulders resting against the leather seat.
"And wait, the gifts!" I babbled frantically, using my free hand to blindly dig into my small clutch purse. "Here! I bought these diamond earrings for your mother, and this vintage luxury watch for your father! Do you think they will actually like them? Oh god, I am so incredibly nervous! What if they hate the gifts?! What if they think they are entirely too cheap? What if they look at my red saree and think I am totally underdressed or weird?!"
I finally stopped my rapid-fire rambling to look up at him, desperately waiting for a lifeline.
But Woonseok wasn't answering my questions. He was just sitting there, his dark eyes locked entirely on my face, a slow, incredibly soft, and breathtakingly fond smile resting on his lips. He looked like he was watching the most beautiful, fascinating movie in the world.
"Woon!" I whined, my cheeks flushing furiously. "Please say something! Why are you just staring and smiling at me like that?!"
Woonseok let out a low, rich chuckle that rumbled through the quiet car. He reached over, gently prying my trembling fingers off his hand, only to interlock his large fingers perfectly through mine.
"I am smiling, my beautiful Butterfly," Woonseok murmured, lifting my hand to press a slow kiss to my knuckles, "because you are sitting here, wearing this breathtaking red saree, looking absolutely gorgeous, and you are having a complete meltdown over two people who are already completely obsessed with you."
"You don't know that!" I argued softly.
"I know everything," Woonseok corrected smoothly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into my skin. "Now, take a deep breath. You are not going to call them Sir or Ma'am. You are my fiancée. They are your family now. So, you will just be yourself."
He reached over, gently cupping my cheek. "Ready?"
I let out a long, shaky breath, closing my eyes for a second to gather my courage. "Ready."
The crisp, freezing winter wind hit my bare back the moment I stepped out of the car. I instantly shivered, instinctively pulling the flowing crimson pallu of my saree a little tighter around my shoulder.
Woonseok immediately stepped up beside me, wrapping his warm, massive arm securely around my waist. The solid, immovable weight of his presence grounded me instantly as we walked up the sweeping stone steps to the massive double front doors.
He reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Ding-Dong.
The deep, melodious chime echoed inside the massive estate. My stomach did a violent flip. I instinctively took half a step backward, slightly hiding behind Woonseok's broad back, my fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his suit jacket.
Click.
The heavy wooden door swung open.
Standing in the doorway was an older, incredibly distinguished-looking man. He had Woonseok's exact sharp jawline and intense, dark eyes, though his hair was perfectly silvered at the temples. He was dressed in a casual but clearly expensive cashmere sweater and slacks.
Woonseok's father.
Mr. Jang looked Woonseok up and down, his eyebrows raising in a look of complete, theatrical surprise.
"Oh, look who it is," his father declared, his voice dripping with heavy, sarcastic amusement. "A big, global superstar has finally decided to grace our humble home with his presence! How incredibly lucky we are. Should I roll out a red carpet for the great Sovereign?"
Woonseok let out a heavy, awkward sigh, completely understanding the taunt. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Appa, please don't say that. I am your son, not a guest."
"Are you?" A loud, sharp voice echoed from inside the hallway.
A woman stepped out from behind Mr. Jang, completely pushing him aside. She was stunning. She possessed a fierce, commanding elegance, wearing a perfectly tailored silk dress, her hair impeccably styled.
Mrs. Jang crossed her arms, glaring at her towering, billionaire son. "Finally, our son is here! Stop teasing him, honey. Though he certainly deserves it."
She suddenly stopped, her sharp eyes scanning the space around Woonseok. Her fierce expression instantly vanished, replaced by an eager, frantic curiosity.
"Wait," Mrs. Jang demanded, physically pushing Woonseok's broad shoulder out of the way to look behind him. "Where is Sana? Did you not bring her?! If you came here alone, Jang Woonseok, I swear to God I am going to—"
"I'm here!" I squeaked quickly, absolutely terrified.
I took a shaky step forward, emerging from behind Woonseok's tall frame.
I immediately lowered my head, placing my hands on my thighs, and executed a deep, perfect, ninety-degree Korean bow.
"Annyeonghaseyo!" I stammered loudly, my heart in my throat. "H-Hello, Mom... and Dad. I mean! Uncle! Aunty! I mean... Mr. and Mrs. Jang! I am Sana! I am so, so incredibly sorry for being late and for—"
I didn't even get to finish my panicked, fumbling introduction.
Mrs. Jang let out a loud, delighted gasp. Before I could even stand up straight, she completely bypassed Woonseok, rushed forward, and threw her arms entirely around my shoulders, pulling me into a massive, crushing hug.
My eyes went wide as saucers. I stood frozen, my hands hovering awkwardly in the air, completely shocked by the fierce, maternal warmth radiating from this incredibly wealthy, intimidating woman.
"Just 'Mom,' okay?!" Mrs. Jang declared fiercely, burying her face into my hair, entirely uncaring that she was wrinkling her expensive silk dress against my saree. "Oh, Sana! Finally, you are here! I am so incredibly happy to see you! You have no idea!"
She pulled back slightly, gripping my shoulders, and shot a deadly glare at her son.
"Honestly, your man is an absolute idiot!" she scolded loudly. "I was literally thinking he was going to wait to bring you home when his father and I were dead and buried! What took him so long?!"
"No, Mom!" I gasped, quickly waving my hands in defense of him. "He just... Woon was just—"
"Mom, please stop scolding me the second I walk through the door," Woonseok groaned, running a hand through his dark hair, looking entirely exhausted by his parents already. "I am your son, remember?"
"Come, come!" Woonseok's father chimed in, a warm, genuine smile breaking across his sharp face. He stepped forward, gesturing widely to the grand hallway. "Welcome to our home, Sana. We have been waiting for you."
They ushered us into the massive, sprawling living room. The space was incredibly beautiful, featuring high vaulted ceilings, a roaring fireplace, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the snow-covered estate.
We walked over to a set of luxurious, cream-colored velvet sofas. Before Woonseok could even sit down, his mother grabbed my hand and pulled me down right next to her on the main couch, effectively stealing me away. Woonseok let out an offended sigh and was forced to sit on the opposite armchair with his father.
Mrs. Jang didn't let go of my hands. She looked at me, her eyes tracing the intricate embroidery of my blouse and the delicate red georgette fabric.
"You are so beautiful, Sana," Mrs. Jang breathed softly, her fierce demeanor completely melting into pure, motherly affection. "This red outfit... it is absolutely breathtaking. Our son definitely does not deserve you."
"Hey!" Woonseok protested from his chair.
His mother completely ignored him. She leaned in closer, dropping her voice into a serious, conspiratorial tone.
"Now, tell me the absolute truth," Mrs. Jang demanded, her dark eyes locking onto mine. "Does our son bother you? Does he actually take care of you? If he is arrogant or mean to you even once, tell me right now, and I will strictly deal with him today."
"Mom!" Woonseok sat forward, looking highly offended. "Of course I take care of her!"
I looked across the coffee table at Woonseok. His broad shoulders were tense, but his dark eyes were incredibly soft as he looked at me.
A sudden, overwhelming lump formed in my throat. I thought about the terrifying nights, the brutal public scandals, the absolute loneliness I had felt in this foreign country before he barged into my life. I thought about him carrying me like a baby when I was tired, buying me completely ridiculous giant koalas, and holding me together when I was falling apart.
"No, Mom," I whispered, my voice suddenly trembling with raw emotion.
I looked back at Mrs. Jang, tears suddenly pricking the corners of my eyes. "He... he takes care of me so much. He loves me so much that I can't even put it into words."
A single tear slipped down my cheek, catching the light of the fireplace.
"In the most cruel, terrifying times of my life," I confessed, my voice breaking slightly, completely forgetting my nerves, "when I felt entirely alone... he was right there with me. Always."
Before I could even reach up to wipe my face, Woonseok was suddenly there.
He had instantly shot up from his armchair. He sat down heavily right beside me on the sofa, wrapping his large, warm arm securely around my waist. He reached up, his long thumb gently and possessively wiping the tear from my cheek.
Mrs. Jang's eyes softened completely. Her own eyes grew slightly misty. Mr. Jang, sitting quietly across from us, looked at me with profound, deep respect.
"We know, dear," Mrs. Jang said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze my knee. "Woonseok has told us everything. He told us how much struggle you have gone through. Leaving your own country, leaving your family, fighting for your dreams entirely on your own... you are so incredibly brave, Sana."
I looked up at Woonseok in surprise. He gave me a slow, reassuring nod, his eyes silently telling me: See? I told you not to worry about anything.
"Mom, I'm so sorry," I sniffled, offering a wobbly, watery smile. "I didn't want to bother him or you with all my problems. Then... everything with the media and the scandals happened, and I—"
"Stop right there," Mr. Jang interrupted, his deep voice carrying a quiet, immovable authority.
He leaned forward, looking at me with the exact same fierce protectiveness Woonseok possessed. "Do not worry about any of that nonsense, Rashi. We are your family now. She is your mother. And I am your dad, okay? If anyone in this country ever tries to bother you again, they will have to answer to the entire Jang empire."
The absolute, unconditional acceptance hit me like a physical weight. The heavy anxiety that had been suffocating me all day entirely vanished.
"See, Butterfly?" Woonseok murmured softly into my ear, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I told you. Don't cry now."
I smiled, finally letting out a genuine, breathless laugh as I wiped the last of my tears away.
Suddenly, Mrs. Jang reached across me. Without any hesitation, she grabbed Woonseok by his left ear and squeezed, completely ruining the emotional moment.
"Ow! Mom!" Woonseok yelped, a highly undignified sound for the terrifying Sovereign, as he tried to pull his head away.
"You brat!" his mother scolded, her eyes flashing with playful anger. "Stop making my daughter-in-law cry! If she sheds one more tear because of you, I am taking all your inheritance!"
"She was crying because she was happy!" Woonseok argued, rubbing his red ear as his mother finally let go.
I burst into loud, genuine laughter, bringing my hand up to cover my mouth. The imposing, terrifying billionaire in-laws were actually hilarious.
Mr. Jang stood up, chuckling at his son's misery. "Alright, alright. Come, Sana. Let's go to the dining table before my wife actually disowns our only heir."
I beamed, standing up alongside Woonseok. "Yes, Dad."
When we walked into the grand dining room, my jaw completely dropped.
The massive, long mahogany table was practically groaning under the weight of an absolute feast. But it wasn't just traditional Korean food. Sitting perfectly amidst the steaming bowls of galbijjim (braised short ribs), japchae, and delicate side dishes, were massive, beautiful silver bowls filled with rich, creamy Butter Chicken, fragrant Biryani, and perfectly warm, garlic Naan.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes wide.
"Mom..." I whispered, looking at Mrs. Jang in complete shock. "Why did you bother yourself with all of this? You made Indian food just for me?"
Mrs. Jang smiled, pulling out a chair for me right near the head of the table. "Sana, stop questioning and start eating, okay? It is a special night for our new daughter."
She leaned down, whispering loudly. "And honestly... I didn't make the Indian food. Your dad did. He spent three hours watching YouTube tutorials in the kitchen today. I think he actually made it more delicious than my food."
My heart completely melted. I looked over at Woonseok's father, who was suddenly looking incredibly busy adjusting his napkin, a faint red tint on his distinguished cheeks.
"Oh, really?!" I grinned, sitting down. "Thank you so, so much, Dad! You both are so incredibly sweet and kind! I truly love it. Thank you."
Mr. Jang smiled proudly. "Eat up, Sana. Let me know if the spices are correct."
I took a bite of the butter chicken, and it was genuinely incredible. I moaned in appreciation, closing my eyes. "Oh my god, this is amazing! Dad, you are a master chef!"
Woonseok, who had just sat down next to me, suddenly slammed his heavy silver chopsticks down onto the table.
"Hey!" Woonseok barked, glaring directly at his own father with absolute, narrowed-eyed jealousy.
Everyone at the table jumped slightly.
"You guys," Woonseok announced, his jaw ticking as he wrapped his massive arm territorially around the back of my chair. "She is mine. Stop trying to impress my wife! I am the only one who is allowed to cook for her and impress her!"
The table fell completely silent for two seconds.
And then, Mr. and Mrs. Jang burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter.
"Look at our son!" Mr. Jang chuckled, pointing his chopsticks at Woonseok. "He is absolutely losing his mind with jealousy over a bowl of chicken!"
Mrs. Jang, however, suddenly stopped laughing. She narrowed her fierce eyes, slowly turning her deadly gaze toward her husband.
"Actually," Mrs. Jang said, her voice dropping into a dangerously calm tone. "Did you see how much he loves her, honey? He is entirely possessive. He protects her. He even cooks for her!"
Mr. Jang instantly froze. The proud smile dropped from his face. Uh oh.
"Meanwhile..." Mrs. Jang continued, elegantly picking up her wine glass. "You never loved me like that. You never got jealous when people cooked for me. In fact, you forgot our anniversary three years ago. You never even looked at me the way Woonseok looks at Sana."
"Honey, please," Mr. Jang suddenly looked completely terrified, raising his hands in defense. "That was three years ago! And I was busy managing a corporate merger! I love you very much!"
"Oh, so corporate mergers are more important than me?" Mrs. Jang countered fiercely.
I sat completely frozen, my spoon hovering halfway to my mouth, entirely awkward as I watched the two billionaires begin to passionately bicker across the grand dining table.
I slowly turned my head to look at Woonseok.
He was completely relaxed, leaning back in his chair, casually eating a piece of braised beef, looking thoroughly, incredibly amused by the absolute chaos he had just caused. He caught me looking at him and offered a devastating, highly satisfied smirk.
He leaned over, pressing a quick, stolen kiss to my bare shoulder.
"Eat up, Butterfly," Woonseok whispered happily against my skin as his parents continued arguing in the background. "Welcome to the family."
"A true family is not always the one bound by blood. Sometimes, it is the one that builds a fortress around your broken pieces and proudly calls it a castle."
I sat there at the grand mahogany table, my spoon paused halfway to my mouth, completely mesmerized and highly amused by the absolute chaos unfolding between the two billionaires. The imposing, untouchable image of the Jang empire had completely dissolved into a scene of pure, domestic comedy.
Mrs. Jang caught me trying to stifle a giggle behind my hand.
The fierce, deadly glare she was directing at her husband instantly vanished. She turned toward me, a warm, bright smile breaking across her elegant face as she elegantly waved her silver chopstick in the air.
"Oh, Sana, please don't worry, dear," Mrs. Jang laughed lightly, entirely unbothered by the scene she was making. "We are not actually fighting. We are just... passionately communicating. Arguing over dinner is just our love language."
Across the table, Mr. Jang let out a heavy, dramatic sigh, safely leaning back in his chair.
"Yes, Sana, she is absolutely right," Woonseok's father agreed, though he threw a wary glance at his wife. "This is our unique love language. But I must admit, sometimes this 'love language' gets a bit violent. Sometimes things get thrown at my head. Like a silk pillow. Or... wait. I remember! Just yesterday, I got hit by a flying—"
"Did you say something, honey?" Mrs. Jang interrupted, her voice dropping into a dangerously sweet, low octave. Her dark eyes locked onto her husband with the precision of a sniper rifle.
Mr. Jang physically flinched. He sat up completely straight, a nervous, terrified smile instantly plastering across his distinguished face.
"Nothing!" Mr. Jang declared loudly, furiously shaking his head. "Nothing at all! I was just... I was just telling Sana how incredibly beautiful you are! And how lucky I am that my wife is so stunning!"
Mrs. Jang elegantly took a sip of her expensive red wine, maintaining unblinking eye contact with him over the rim of the glass. "That is much better."
I couldn't hold it in anymore. I burst into a soft, genuine fit of laughter, the delicate red and golden bangles on my wrist chiming melodically as I covered my mouth. The atmosphere in the dining room was so incredibly warm, so entirely devoid of the cold, rigid judgment I had been terrified of all day.
I leaned to my right, tilting my head toward Woonseok.
"Your family is literally so close to each other," I whispered softly, my eyes shining with absolute admiration as I looked at his parents. "It is so beautiful. Your family is just so incredibly rich in love, Woon."
Woonseok smiled softly, his massive hand resting possessively on the back of my chair. "They are crazy. But yes, they love fiercely. Just like me."
I smiled back, turning my gaze down to my plate.
But as I looked at the beautiful silver bowl of rich Butter Chicken and the warm Naan that Mr. Jang had spent hours cooking just to make me feel at home, the smile slowly, agonizingly slipped from my lips.
A sudden, sharp hollow ache violently expanded in the center of my chest.
Family.
The word echoed in my mind, but instead of warmth, it brought a heavy, suffocating wave of freezing cold. Staring at the Indian food, my mind violently dragged me backward in time, ripping me out of this beautiful dining room and throwing me back into the darkest day of my life.
I saw my father's face. I heard the deafening silence of my own house back in India. I felt the absolute, crushing devastation of the moment I chose myself over their strict expectations.
His last, cruel words echoed in my ears, sharper than any blade.
"If you walk out that door for woonseok, do not ever come back. You are dead to me, Sana."
The vibrant colors of the dining room suddenly blurred. My throat restricted completely, a massive, painful lump forming as the raw, unprocessed grief of losing my own family crashed into the beautiful reality of Woonseok's loving one. My hands, resting in my lap on the crimson georgette silk, began to tremble uncontrollably.
I desperately tried to blink the tears away, staring rigidly at my plate, absolutely terrified of ruining this perfect night with my sudden sadness.
But Jang Woonseok missed absolutely nothing.
The moment my breathing shifted, his sharp eyes darted to my face. He saw the sudden paleness of my cheeks, the glassy sheen of unshed tears in my eyes, and the way my lower lip was trembling. He didn't need to ask. He immediately knew exactly where my mind had gone.
Underneath the large mahogany table, completely hidden from his parents' view, Woonseok's large, incredibly warm hand reached over and entirely engulfed my two trembling ones.
I gasped softly at the contact, looking up at him.
Woonseok leaned in close, his broad shoulder acting as a shield between me and the rest of the room. His dark eyes were completely filled with a fierce, unwavering ocean of love and profound understanding.
"Butterfly," Woonseok murmured, his voice so incredibly low and husky that only I could hear it over the sound of his parents chatting. "Look at me."
I blinked, a single, hot tear slipping down my cheek. "Woon... I..."
"I know," he whispered fiercely, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand, grounding me entirely in the present. "I know you are missing your family right now. I know it hurts to look at this and remember what you had to leave behind. But I need you to listen to me, Sana, and I need you to believe me."
He leaned an inch closer, his deep voice wrapping around my shattered heart like a warm, protective blanket.
"Do not worry about anything," Woonseok vowed, his eyes blazing with absolute conviction. "You are not alone anymore. We are your family now. I am your family. And I swear to you on my life, Butterfly... I promise to give you so much love, every single day for the rest of our lives, that you will never, ever feel that emptiness again."
The raw, powerful sincerity in his words completely broke the dam.
A soft, breathless sob escaped my lips, but it wasn't from pain anymore. It was from the sheer, overwhelming realization of how deeply, profoundly lucky I was to be loved by this terrifyingly protective, incredibly devoted man.
I turned my hand over, interlocking my fingers tightly through his massive ones, clinging to his strength.
"I know," I whispered back, my voice trembling but a genuine, beautiful smile finally breaking through the tears. I looked deeply into his dark eyes. "I know you will, Mr. Idol."
Woonseok offered a devastatingly soft smile, bringing our joined hands up under the table to press a deeply tender kiss to my knuckles. He didn't let go of my hand for the rest of the dinner.