Out on the street below were two black SUVs purring, waiting to carry you off to who knew where. While Junko lightly stepped into the frontmost vehicle, you were shoved not-so-nicely into the back of the second one. If you once thought that the first ride from your apartment to the penthouse, surrounded by the men you had hated at first was an excruciating experience, you were wrong. This one was a hundred times worse.

Every time you looked in the rearview mirror, you expected to see Chen’s cheeky stare sending silent jokes your way. But it wasn’t Chen in the driver’s seat. He was stuck back in the penthouse, forced to stay behind for the sake of all their lives. No, the man behind the wheel had nothing but steel in his eyes, no warmth or openness. Not that you wanted to get to know any of the guards around you. You may have had similar feelings when entering Junmyeon’s household, but you knew for damn sure that you weren’t going to warm up to anyone in Junko’s company.

As the street lights blurred by, you kept your focus on your breathing. You refused to cry for your loss this time. It was your own choice. You knew the consequences of your actions. But you refused to just lie down and roll over now that you were here. Even in the current moment, you were going over possible sabotages to ruin Junko’s plans. You just needed to come up with one that didn’t end up with you or someone you loved dead.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, dying the sky from a midnight blue to a hue of purple you once found beautiful. Now, though, it seemed to be an ominous color, stopping your life right on the edge of when it might have been its happiest. Going forward, the days would bring nothing but new misery.

The vehicle finally came to a stop outside of a large, white stone mansion with shimmering gold trim around the windows and edges. Guards roamed the walled-in property, heavy black guns holstered to their waists for the world to see.

You were pulled out of the van, surrounded on all sides and they herded you inside. The shepherding didn’t stop until you were up the stairs on the second floor and shoved into a grand bedroom. As useless as the gesture was, you tested the door, pulling and yanking on the handle to confirm what you already knew. It was locked and you were now a prisoner more than you had ever been before.

After hours of pacing back and forth, Junko finally appeared, coming into the room without knocking or announcing his presence.

“Good afternoon, darling.”

You nearly gagged from the affectionate nickname, but beyond that, you stayed quiet, defiant.

With the motion of two fingers, Junko signaled for whoever was still in the hallway to enter. To your shock, it was two women, one rolling in a large black case, the other carrying a short white dress in a clear plastic bag.

“Please do cooperate with these lovely ladies,” Junko said as he inspected his fingers. His eyes flashed up to look at you, a sick, scheming grin on his lips. “I would hate to hear that my bride was being rude. That might have repercussions, such as someone you care about ending up with a bullet in their head. My men are still at the building with Junmyeon’s penthouse. I’d hate to lose one of his men when I oh-so-dearly want them to be around to watch their life’s work crumble into dust.” With that threat hanging in the air, he turned, passing the stone faced women and closed the door behind him.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Every fiber in your muscles was screaming at you to not sit down in the chair, to not let these women pull at your hair and run their brushes all over your face. But that threat weighed too heavily on you. The ones you cared about were your ultimate weakness and if sitting through this torture – knowing what waited for you when it was over – meant that they could stay alive for the time being, then you could endure it. But how far would you be able to go before you broke?

During the process of making you presentable for Junko, the adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins was now dissolved, making your eyelids heavy and your body begging for sleep. Each time one of the women told you to close your eyes so she could apply more makeup, you felt yourself starting to nod off. It baffled you how easily your brain could start slipping into that mode considering the circumstances.

All too soon, the women were done with altering your physical appearance and were now scrambling to get you into the white dress. It was a simple design lacking any embellishments or other signs that it was meant to be a wedding dress, hitting just above your knee and gently fanning out to create somewhat of a silhouette.

You knew all too well what this dress was symbolizing, but you didn’t see the point in all the fanfare. This was not a joyous occasion where you’d be surrounded by friends and family who would cheer you on as you started your new life. You weren’t going to be walking down the aisle towards the man you’d fallen in love with, daydreaming about what the coming days together would hold, whether they be filled with good times or bad. No. You didn’t know to what extent Junko would be going with this affair, but you’d known this would be the plan as soon as you stepped into that SUV several hours ago.

After being forced into a pair of high heels the same shade of pure as the dress you were zipped up in, the women escorted you out of the room and back down the stairs. To your left were a pair of double doors propped open to reveal a massive ballroom like the one you’d seen in The Sound of Music when you’d watched it as a child. But there was no grand party being thrown where couples were twirling each other around on the reflective marble floor. Instead, there was simply Junko, a few guards, and a man in a suit that gave off a nervous yet authoritative aura standing near a small, round table near the middle of the room.

“Beautiful,” Junko smiled proudly, as if you were his to show off.

“Miss (y/n), I presume?” the other man asked when you were standing with them. You nodded wordlessly. He turned to the mafia boss. “An excellent choice, Junko.”

“A match made just for me, Judge Kim.” Taking your hand, Junko pulled you closer to him, whether to appear affectionate or to keep you from running away, you weren’t sure, but he should know by now that you weren’t going anywhere. You made your choice and now you would live with it.

“Well, I won’t keep you too long.” Judge Kim opened the small book in his hands, clearing his throat before starting the sham of a ceremony this would be. “Do you, Lee Junko, take (y/n) (l/n) to be your lawful wife, bound together for rest of your lives?”

“I do.”

Judge Kim turned to you. “And do you, (y/n) (y/n), take Lee Junko to be your lawful husband, bound together for the rest of your lives?”

Junko squeezed your hand, signaling to you exactly how you should answer, but it was a pointless gesture.

“I do,” you replied without any hesitation.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the beautiful Republic of Korea, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Judge Kim gestured to the table behind us. “Please, in the presence of me and these witnesses, sign the marriage certificate.”

Letting go of you hand, Junko swiftly swiped up the silver fountain pen that was lying next to the official marriage license and signed his name on the appropriate line before handing the pen off to you. Now you hesitated.

When you were younger, you once read a book where a girl was forced to get married to a scheming villain who wanted to get ahold of her parents’ vast fortune. She was able to null the marriage by signing the document with her non-dominant hand. You’d be lying if you testified that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind right now.

But this wasn’t a children’s story where the simplest solutions turned out to be the way to foil the evil villain’s plot. Even if you signed in it your non-dominant hand, you still signed it “willingly” in the presence of a judge. Whatever hand you decided to use was inconsequential.

Once your signature was imbedded in ink on the parchment paper, Junko and Judge Kim shook hands and everyone cleared the room, leaving you alone with your new husband.

Junko’s eyes narrowed into a snake-like stare, shining at his newly possessed toy. An arm slinked around your waist and he yanked you in close, squeezing you so tightly you were hardly able to fill your lungs up with enough air to continue consciousness. You knew fairly well that fear was evident in your eyes. What was the point of hiding it? You didn’t know what he planned to do to you next. Yes, you knew he’d keep you alive long enough to get to New York and retrieve the files, but there was plenty he could do to you beforehand.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured as he trailed a fingertip down your cheek. “I will wait for you to come to me. I’m not so much of a monster. You’ll see that soon enough.”

“One moment of restraint doesn’t erase all past deeds,” you spat back.

Junko smirked. “So fiery. I appreciate that. It’s needed to survive this kind of life.” Leaning down, he let his lips flutter against your ear as he whispered, “I will never erase my past. I’m proud of every single brick that I’ve made to build my empire. And you, my dear, are the crowning jewel to cap the tallest tower. Sooner or later, you will give in to me and you’ll see just how much of this life you truly enjoy.”

Releasing you, he the balls of his feet and walked calmly out of the ballroom, each step echoing around you in mockery.

Back in your room, you found yourself just staring at the outside horizon while sitting on the chair you’d moved over from the vanity. The windows opened up to a large balcony, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk out there. So you chose instead to just open them up enough to let the air in while you stayed within the confines of the walls. It seemed like a fitting metaphor for your life. So close to freedom, so close to having it all just to be locked away once again. You could see what that type of life could be, you could reach out, so close to feeling it in your hand but unable to make those last few centimeters disappear. How long would you be staring out this window longing for might never be? Only time and your future choices could determine that.

You prayed that all the boys were safe and that all the wounds you saw on their faces were only superficial. Yixing should be more than capable of patching them up. But then what? Would they be stupid enough to try and formulate a plan to storm in here? What was going through Junmyeon’s head right now?

Junmyeon worried you the most. In every other situation he remained collected and clear headed. But what was he like right now? Was he going crazy now that you were in Junko’s clutches, the very place he swore you would never be? You held on to the hope that he would use his head and only come for you when all their emotions were no longer in control of their actions. You had faith that they would come for you eventually and until then, you’d do everything you could in order to undermine Junko and hopefully weaken his defenses to give the guys a fighting chance.

**

You weren’t sure if you were dreaming or awake when you felt that warmth appear beside you, but you welcomed it fully.

After doing nothing but sitting and staring all day, you finally gave in to your body’s wishes and climbed into bed when the sun sank down from the sky. The only comfortable thing you could find to sleep in was a silk nightgown folded nicely in the top drawer of the dresser. You contemplated just going to bed , but then the idea of being caught that way mortified you and you hurriedly changed into the thin material.

For a while, you just lied there under the covers, your mind too restless to allow your exhausted body the sleep it desperately needed. Your eyes kept flickering over the empty ring finger on your left hand. The diamond that used to add a little weight to that side was sitting safely on your nightstand back at Junmyeon’s just waiting to be worn again. Now there was nothing but a phantom feeling where you’d grown so used to that cool metal being, a soft reminder of how safe you were now missing.

Soon, your mind was able to shut down and you drifted off to sleep, anxious for what might be waiting in your dreams. It was pleasantness, however, that met you rather than the horrifying images you’d been envisioning all day. Your mind decided to be kind to you and let you dream about being back in Junmyeon’s arms. Nothing else was happening in the dream except for you taking in his presence as he held you close. Perhaps your brain was crueler than you originally thought.

So lost in this dream were you that when it was ripped from your grasp, you still weren’t sure that it wasn’t real. Movement on the other side of the bed was what pulled you back to semi-consciousness and in your groggy state, you scooted closer to it, wrapping your arms around the warmth and sighing in content. You didn’t know any better until a chest-rumbling laugh brought you to being fully awake.

Gasping at the sight of Junko lying next to you under the covers, you scrambled back and away from him. But before you could jump out of the bed completely, he grabbed your wrist, holding you in place.

“Such a turnaround from a loving wife,” he chuckled.

You growled through your clenched teeth. “Let me go.”

“Were you thinking of him?” Junko asked, ignoring your demand. “Is that why you cozied up to me so quickly? Did you trick yourself into thinking you were back with him?”

At your refusal to answer him, he pulled on your wrist and then slammed you down on your back as he hovered over you, capturing your other arm in his grasp.

“Bad decision to fall in love with Suho,” he sneered. “He would have just tossed you to the side once he got what he wanted.”

Anger filled you up, making you squirm under his strength. “Screw you.”

Your sad attempt to verbally fight back just amused him. “You think you know him, but you don’t. We’re all mostly the same, us leaders. We use people to get what we want, dispose of them once they become useless. But me? I’ll keep you by my side forever.”

“And what makes you so different?” you scoffed.

“You were made for me, (y/n).”

You shook your head. “You keep saying that as if someone assembled me on a production line.”

“That’s because my father did, so to speak.” His grip on your wrists loosened slightly, but he still didn’t let you go. “You see, (y/n), your mother wasn’t able to have children no matter what doctor she went to. And your father was desperate for a child. So, my father offered him a deal. He had a few doctor friends who were experimenting some… not very approved methods. My father would connect your parents with his friends and they would provide him with a daughter – save that when that daughter came of age, she would marry me and your father would hand over all the intel he’d gathered over the years to make our empire stronger than ever. That was the deal.”

Junko lowered his face, gently brushing his lips against your bare collarbone, making you shiver with disgust.

“And now it’s being fulfilled,” he continued when he pushed himself back up. “So, yes, when I saw that you were made for me, I truly mean it.” Slowly, his fingers uncurled from your wrists and he sat up. “But I also meant it when I said I would wait for you to come to me. You’re my wife now, so I’ll take my place in our bed, but eventually, you’ll come to me.”

Like hell you would. But you kept your mouth shut, just watching him with steely eyes as he lied down, facing away from you. Unable to even think about trying to fall back asleep, you kept your eyes on the rising and falling of Junko’s bare shoulders. You hated this man more than anything and the idea of having to possibly sleep next to him for the rest of your life made you sick to your stomach. But the news that the only reason you were able to exist was so you would be here in this bed made it nearly unbearable.

**

The car ride to the airport was full of silence except for the roaring of the engine. You kept fidgeting with the hem of your cream colored skirt that Junko forced you to wear. He said that you needed to look presentable, like the wife of a businessman. You were sure you drew blood from how hard you were biting your tongue.

Businessman my .

You felt more like you were trying to be Jackie Kennedy or one of the British royal family members for Halloween rather than the doting wife of a respectable businessman. That’s all this was, anyway; a charade, a farce. Anyone could see through the lie. They might not know what the truth was underneath, but the masquerade fooled no one.

Rather than pulling into the normal departure lane you were hoping for, the BMW came to a stop on a private airstrip where a jet was waiting for us, open door with a tall staircase and all. The driver turned off the car and stepped out, rounding the vehicle until he came to your door, opening it for you and helping you out. At least someone around here was a gentleman.

You pulled on the bottom of your matching jacket and followed Junko up the steps to the inside of the jet. If you were hoping for something to hate, you were dead wrong. It was impossible not to be a little impressed by the ivory interior and spacious aisle. A pretty stewardess stood near the back, pouring two glasses of expensive looking champagne. You sat down in the first chair you reached, bracing yourself for whenever takeoff would be. Junko sat across from you, folding one leg over the other while he scrolled through his tablet.

“It’ll be late when we land,” he informed you without looking up. “We’ll go straight to the hotel and then in the morning we’ll go to the attorney who has been handling your stateside affairs. He’ll have the will that states the location of the files. From there, we’ll go to that bank and we’ll be back home in two days’ time.” He smirked. “Quick and painless.”

Maybe physically painless, but carrying through this plan for him was killing you on the inside. Junko had said countless times that the information in those files could tear down Junmyeon’s operation. As much as you disapproved of this kind of life, you saw how hard he worked every day, how desperate he was to keep what his family had built running and to make sure his men lived comfortably. Anyone could call you a hypocrite, but you didn’t want to see Junmyeon’s organization fall apart.

But Junko’s? You wanted his to fall faster than Troy after they let in the Trojan horse. Just as the citizens were unsuspecting of the warriors lying in waiting to attack, you were going to lull Junko into a false sense of security to make victory even sweeter