Chapter Text
The Jang family estate smelled of whiskey, gun oil, and expensive flowers. Crystal light spilled cold over the table where two mafia dynasties had just sealed their alliance in blood and ink.
An Yujin sat at the head of the table like something carved from ice. Her black suit was sharp enough to cut, dark hair falling over her shoulders, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. Her eyes—usually sharp—were pure contempt as they fixed on the woman beside her.
Jang Wonyoung.
The younger woman wore a white dress that looked too soft for a room full of killers. She kept her gaze lowered, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, but every so often she glanced at Yujin with something fragile and hopeful. Her fingers trembled just slightly against the fabric of her skirt.
The alliance had been decided months ago. The An and Jang families needed to merge power before the Choi syndicate swallowed them both. Marriage was the cleanest solution. Neither of them had been given a choice.
Yujin had tried to make the plan fail. She would have married anyone else. In the end, her efforts meant nothing.
The ceremony was short and brutal. No vows of love—just signatures on paper already soaked in the blood of their families’ enemies, and a cold kiss Yujin delivered like a punishment. Wonyoung closed her eyes and tried not to flinch.
The elevator ride up to the top floor was silent except for the low hum of the machinery. Yujin stood like a wall between Wonyoung and the doors, her arms crossed. When they stepped into the penthouse—black marble, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering criminal empire of Seoul—Yujin finally spoke.
“You sleep in the guest room. Don’t touch my things. Don’t speak to me unless necessary. And don’t get any ideas about playing house. This is a contract. Nothing more,” she said, her voice firm and final. Wonyoung stood in the middle of the living room, still in her wedding dress, clutching the small bouquet she hadn’t let go of since the hall. She looked impossibly small against the cold luxury surrounding her.
"Do we really have to do this?" she asked hesitantly.
"Do what?" Yujin asked, knowing damn well what Wonyoung meant.
"Pretend to hate each other," Wonyoung replied.
Yujin laughed—a short and bitter sound. "You think I pretend to hate you? How endearing," she backed Wonyoung against the wall, one hand braced beside the younger girl's head. "Listen to me, Wonyoung. I don't care what you do now. We have duties to fulfill, and we'll only be interacting for that. Don't think things could ever go back to how they were before. And that's final," Yujin said, her voice icy. Wonyoung flinched.
Then, Yujin walked off to her bedroom and shut the door behind her loudly, leaving Wonyoung alone in the hallway.
The next morning, Wonyoung woke late. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her messy hair, not wanting to leave the bed. When she checked the time, she assumed Yujin had already left for work.
She scrambled out of bed anyway, still rubbing one eye, hair tousled, drowning in one of Yujin’s oversized hoodies. Her own things wouldn’t arrive until later.
When she padded into the kitchen, Yujin was already there, brewing coffee. The older girl glanced over—and for half a second, her breath caught. She could never get used to seeing Wonyoung like this. Soft, unguarded, messy in a way that felt too intimate. Yujin looked away almost immediately, turning back to the counter.
“Good morning,” Wonyoung said quietly.
“Morning,” Yujin replied, reluctant.
“I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“I’m not allowed to go to work for at least a week.” Yujin’s voice was dry. “Perks of being married.”
She didn’t look at Wonyoung again as she said it.
"There's a gala to attend tonight. Dress accordingly," Yujin had said before disappearing into her study. Wonyoung had nodded quietly, curled up on the huge sectional couch in the living room with her phone, scrolling through it.
Now, in the evening, both girls were ready to leave. Wonyoung wore a cream dress—the one Yujin's mother had gifted her for the wedding. Yujin had put on a simple black dress shirt and slacks, with a jacket on top. She knocked on Wonyoung's room, waiting for the younger girl to come out so they could leave. "You're making us late," Yujin muttered, sighing wearily.
"Sorry," Wonyoung whispered, opening the door and stepping out hesitantly. For a moment, Yujin forgot about everything. It was just Wonyoung in front of her.
Her Wonyoung.
But then, reality crashed back in forcefully, and Yujin looked away. "Let's go," she muttered, walking over to the elevator. Wonyoung simply nodded and followed her with a soft sigh. They got in the car, the partition up in between them and the driver for privacy. Yujin's hand rested in the space between them as she stared out the window, while Wonyoung's hand quietly inched closer, wanting to hold it, though she knew she couldn't.
Not now, at least.
As the car came to a stop, Yujin and Wonyoung got out. Yujin took her hand quietly, interlacing their fingers. Wonyoung relaxed subtly, smiling for the cameras. They walked inside like that.
Everyone was excited to meet the new couple. They spent most of the evening greeting others and pretending they were madly in love.
At one point, Wonyoung almost believed the act. Yujin was too good at it — the soft looks, the light touches, the way she kept her hand low on Wonyoung’s back like it belonged there.
Then the older girl leaned in, brushed a kiss against her cheek for the cameras, and spoke against her skin, voice quiet enough that only Wonyoung could hear.
“Keep looking at me like that. It makes it easier for them to forget what you did.”
Wonyoung’s smile didn’t crack. She turned her face slightly toward Yujin’s, close enough that it looked intimate.
“Of course. The contract can’t afford the truth.”
“Exactly,” Yujin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was so natural that both of them went still for half a second before pulling away.
"Hello, Ms. Jang," an older man said, shaking Wonyoung's hand.
"Nice to meet you," Wonyoung smiled softly. "The rumors were right, you know. Your pictures don't do your beauty justice," he said, smirking. "Thank you," Wonyoung chuckled awkwardly, looking around for Yujin.
She tried pulling her hand back, but the man refused to let her go. "Uh, I have to get back to my wife—" Wonyoung said, pulling back again.
"What's the rush, sweetheart?" the man asked, holding her hand even tighter.
"I—" Wonyoung panicked, frowning.
"I suggest we go out on the balcony. I can buy you a drink. What do you say?" the man asked, leaning closer.
"I don't think that's a great idea—" Wonyoung said, laughing awkwardly, trying to push his hand away. "Why not?" the man asked, clearly getting annoyed.
"Because she has a wife, Mr. Jung. It'll be smarter to keep your distance." Yujin came up out of nowhere, separating Wonyoung's hand from the man's and pulling her into her side.
"Oh, Ms. An. I didn't know—" the man scrambled, looking for an excuse.
"Leave. If I see you near my wife again, I’ll make sure you don’t walk out of this building," Yujin threatened, her eyes cold and icy. The man nodded frantically and rushed away.
"You okay?" Yujin asked as soon as the man was gone, letting go of Wonyoung. "Yeah. Thank you..." Wonyoung murmured, her cheeks burning. "Hm. Let's go there. Mother was asking to see you," Yujin shrugged casually.
They both walked over to the An-Jang family table. Yujin's mom and Wonyoung's parents were sitting together, discussing something. As soon as they saw the girls, Yujin's mom stood up from her seat.
"Darling, how lovely to see you both," she enveloped Wonyoung in a hug. The latter stiffened, plastering on a polite smile. "It's great to see you too, aunt..." she mumbled. "I see you're wearing the dress I gifted you. And how flattering it looks on my baby," Yujin's mom said, cupping Wonyoung's face. "Yes, thank you for it," Wonyoung said politely.
"Mom, I needed to talk to you," Yujin interrupted them. "Oh, okay. I'll be right back, honey. Sit with your mama and papa," Yujin's mom said before following Yujin out. Wonyoung nodded and let out a quiet sigh, sitting beside her mom.
"How are you doing, honey?" her mom asked, fixing Wonyoung's hair.
"What do you think?" Wonyoung asked, sighing.
"Is Yujin too harsh?" her father asked. "You guys didn't think about that before marrying me off to her. What's the point now?" Wonyoung said bitterly.
"But you loved her, Wonyoung—"
"She doesn't love me though, mom, so what's the point of this love?"
"Honey... don't lose hope."
"There's no hope to lose, mom."
The ride home was a blur of champagne and forced smiles. Yujin kept one arm firmly around Wonyoung’s waist the entire way out of the gala, smiling at every person who stopped them, playing the part of the attentive new wife. Only she could feel how much of Wonyoung’s weight she was already supporting.
By the time the car pulled up to their building, Wonyoung’s head was lolling against her shoulder.
The second the partition closed and the driver stepped away, the act dropped. Wonyoung tried to stand and immediately swayed. Yujin caught her before she could hit the ground, jaw tight.
“For fuck’s sake…”
She glanced around, then exhaled sharply through her nose, crouched, and hauled Wonyoung onto her back. The younger girl made a soft, unhelpful sound and locked her arms loosely around Yujin’s neck, face buried against her shoulder. Yujin adjusted her grip under Wonyoung’s thighs and carried her inside like that, expression flat, steps steady.
She only set her down once they were inside the apartment. Wonyoung immediately sagged against the wall.
“You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Mhm… but you love me~”
“I don’t. I hate you.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up, Wonyoung.”
“But you said you like my voice…”
“That was before everything.”
Wonyoung’s smile faded. She blinked slowly, staring somewhere past Yujin’s shoulder.
“Do you really think I’m guilty, Yujin?”
Yujin didn’t answer.
She steered her down the hall, lowered her onto the bed, and went to the closet for pajamas. When she came back, Wonyoung was already half-asleep, still in the cream dress.
“Get up.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“You can’t sleep in that.”
“Why do you care…”
Yujin closed her eyes for a second, exhaling through her nose, then pulled her upright again. She worked the zipper down, stripped the dress off her with more patience than she felt, and got the soft pajamas on while Wonyoung stayed limp and unhelpful, occasionally mumbling or flopping sideways. When she was finally dressed, Yujin guided her back under the covers and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
She stood there a moment longer than necessary, looking down at the peaceful face on the pillow.
Then she turned and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Drunk Wonyoung was still exhausting. But cute. Not that Yujin would ever admit it.
The next morning, Wonyoung woke with a splitting headache. She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. She really shouldn’t have drunk that much.
The memory of Yujin laughing so easily with other people the night before sat heavy in her chest. Not the polite, controlled smile she used for the cameras—real laughter. The kind Wonyoung hadn’t heard directed at her in years. Something ugly twisted low in her stomach.
She didn’t know why she still expected anything different. If Yujin had looked at her with anything other than coldness, it would’ve been more surprising.
She dragged herself out of bed, took a long warm bath, and waited until the worst of the headache faded. When she finally stepped into the living room, she found Yujin asleep on the couch, tablet still open on her lap, the screen casting a faint light across her face. She had clearly worked until she passed out.
Wonyoung’s expression softened despite herself.
“Such an idiot,” she whispered.
She picked up the throw blanket from the end of the couch and carefully draped it over Yujin’s shoulders. Her fingers lingered for a second too long before she pulled her hand back.
And then, the memory was there—uninvited, warm, soft.
"Yujin!"
"What?"
"There's a bug here!"
"I don't see it..."
"Fuck, Yujin, are you blind?"
"Calm down, Wonyoung, it's just a bug—"
"SHUT UP."
"...okay."
"Oh my gosh—"
"Alright, that's enough. Come here." Yujin walked up to Wonyoung, pulling her down from the dining table.
"But there's a bug—" Wonyoung whimpered, clutching Yujin's hand like her life depended on it.
"Show me," Yujin replied. She kept one arm around Wonyoung as they both walked over to the couch, where the supposed bug was.
As soon as she spotted it, Yujin crushed the bug under her shoe. "See? Gone," she said smugly.
"Whatever," Wonyoung breathed out, finally letting go of Yujin's hand. "Well, looks like the princess is scared of some things after all," Yujin smirked as she cleaned up the floor.
"Shut up. Bugs are just... annoying," Wonyoung crossed her arms. "Sure, princess," Yujin chuckled, shaking her head.