Junmyeon impatiently looked at his expensive watch. Twenty minutes after three in the afternoon. They were supposed to land ten minutes ago.

If this horrible inconvenience continued much longer, Junmyeon feared that he would not be able to stop by the office on his way home. Normally, he would not have any qualms about ordering the staff to await his arrival however long was necessary, but today the building was supposed to be closed early for inspection and even the almighty CEO Kim Junmyeon could not do anything about it.

He would curse, but he was too upper class for that. Instead, he huffed and checked his watch again.

When they finally landed, he was the first one to leave his seat, silently motioning at his assistant to pick up both of their bags and follow him. He checked the time for a hundredth time and grimaced for real – it was four o’clock already and there was no way that he could get to his company by 5pm, not with the distance that separated Incheon International Airport from the financial district of Yeongdeungpo and with the current traffic. He didn’t greet or even as much as looked at the cabin crew upon leaving the plane.

They didn’t deserve it.

‘Where to, sir?’ He looked at the young man following half step behind him, their bags efficiently handled and his cell ready to call the driver. Was his surname Do? No? Junmyeon did not remember, but he liked him. He genuinely respected his superiors and knew that working your way up in a corporation was more than just doing your job. It was long hours of being at everyone’s beck and all, and kissing you boss’s whenever possible.

Not that Junmyeon, old money himself, ever experienced that. It must , being poor, Junmyeon thought in passing, putting his sunglasses on.

‘Home.’ He sighed.

After all the passport hassle, he finally slid into the back seat of the Bentley that had arrived to pick him up. His assistant took a seat next to the driver to give him more comfort and privacy. Yes, he really liked his new secretary. He knew his place.

He was going home to see his dear wife. That thought put a lazy smile on his face.

Ever since he got married a year ago, his personal life has been one that all his friends and acquaintances envied. Although he could not say that he loved his young wife passionately, he was more than satisfied with their marital status.

Irene Bae was a girl introduced to him by his parents exactly three months before they became engaged to marry. Junmyeon had known that the choice was never his to begin with so he had never really given marriage any thought, but nevertheless,  Irene was up to every standard he could have possibly had. Born and raised in the states, she was an only child and an orphan. Her parents, in their death, left her a fortune which allowed the heiress to live comfortably.

To say that the girl was pretty was an understatement. She was gorgeous, with her golden locks softly falling past the shoulders and her big, innocent looking eyes. She was petite, even wearing high heels and had the reddest lips that he had ever seen. She was quiet and well mannered. Her attire was elegant and very feminine. She looked like she would need a man’s protection which immediately boosted Junmyeon’s ego; but sometimes, she would turn those big, innocent eyes towards him and she looked so seductive, that Junmyeon immediately felt a bolt of desire running through him.

Throughout the short course of their marriage, he could not have asked for more. Irene was turning to him in every decision that she had to make and obeying anything he as much as suggested. When he needed her to, she accompanied him to business dinners and functions; when he invited guests to their house, she was the perfect house wife, overseeing the preparations of the meal and personally tending to every need the invited might have. And her flared dresses always made that suave sound which made Junmyeon particularly relaxed.

Even Jongin, who did not pay females any heed, finding them shallow and only after his money, admitted that Irene was both cute and desirable. He’d caught his friend staring at his woman on more than one occasion but he never really minded – on the contrary, he felt himself smirk, feeling the hopelessness coming from the fact that another man would want Irene but could never have her. Having her on such display only added to his manly pride.

Junmyeon was away on business quite often, but every time he returned to the house that they shared in the quiet neighbourhood of Apgujeong, he was welcomed with a sweet kiss, his favourite dinner ready and Irene sitting next to him, caring only about whether his tea wasn’t too hot and he himself too tired. She looked at him as if he were the centre of her universe and he was basking in the feeling.

Later, when they had , she was blushing like a – as if she had known exactly was excited him the most.

He shook his head every time one of his friends spoke of his other half – those women were out of control, arguing with their husbands about insignificant matters and trying to control them. He particularly despised those who insisted on working – Junmyeon himself hated dealing with the so-called business woman type, too aggressive and liberated for his liking. But even more, he condemned the man who could not keep their wives in check; a woman needed to know her place.

Like Irene did. She was the perfect bride. His most prized possession.

He finally felt the car park and his assistant jumped out, opening the door for him. Junmyeon went ahead, directing his steps towards the front door. He left his assistant to sort out his luggage.

He had the key, of course, but he loved it when Irene opened the door for him. So he rang the bell and waited. He heard small steps approaching. Then the door opened.

‘You’re home.’ Her sweet voice was like a melody to his ears. As usual, she had one of her beautiful dresses on, the shape flattering her feminine figures. Other wives wore trousers and t-shirts, oblivious to the effect it had on their husbands – but not his Irene. She was always graceful and distinguished. She was perfect.

He leaned in for a kiss and was granted one. He brought her closer as his assistant slipped into the house quietly, leaving Junmyeon’s bags in the corridor.

‘Would that be all, sir?’ He asked after his boss parted from his wife.

‘Yes. Take the morning off tomorrow and be at the company by 12. We have to go over the contracts again.’ He instructed. His assistant bowed.

‘Understood.’ Then he left.

Junmyeon turned to Irene again.

‘I’m hungry.’ He declared. She smiled and took him by the hand.

‘I’ve made something special today. I missed you.’ Junmyeon smirked. Yes, she was perfect. Like a doll.

She took his jacket and led him to the table, which was already set. He made himself comfortable as she served him the steak and wine, and disappeared for a moment to unpack his things upstairs. When she came back, she sat by him, listening to everything he had to say and smiling, she nodded in confirmation.

Not that she understood anything from his business divagations, Junmyeon immediately dismissed that notion, women were not particular intelligent creatures. Nevertheless, all that undivided attention definitely flattered him.

‘Where is the house staff?’ He asked, putting the finished dish away. She stood up to clean it.

‘It’s their evening off today.’ She returned from the kitchen, carrying a plate with a hefty piece of raspberry pie and a glass of whiskey. ‘I’ve baked this especially for you. I know how much you like it.’ 6pm was still early for a potent liquor like this one, but Junmyeon liked to have a glass to relax after the journey. Irene knew that.

As he continued eating and complimented her culinary craft, she took a stand behind him, slowly massaging his shoulders.

‘Relax.’ She whispered. ‘You’re so tense.’ Junmyeon took it as a sign of sensuality and willingness, that she usually displayed, but before he even had a chance to contemplate making love to her in the bedroom upstairs, he felt his head spinning. Then he fell into unconsciousness.

When he finally opened his eyes, after what felt like forever, he discovered that he couldn’t move his arms. He pulled his arm in panic but he was tied to the chair that he was seated on. His legs were equally immobilised. He looked around frantically.

He was in their bedroom and Irene was at her dressing table, with her back turned to him. She must have heard his awakening but she made no move to appease him. She kept applying her moisturiser, slowly, in circular methodical motion.

‘I-Irene?’ He wanted to say but his voice came out more like a whisper, it was still hoarse. Through the mirror, he finally caught her eye. The air left his lungs abruptly and he leaned back on the chair in horror, nearly toppling it over with the force he applied. The face that he caught on the shiny surface for a split second was not Irene.

It might have as well been the devil himself.

The figure, still dressed in a girly pink night gown, slowly stood up and Junmyeon was half prepared to scream but when she finally turned around, it was still the same women he knew. Except for her sardonic expression that he was definitely not used to.

‘Irene?’ He tried again.

‘Yes, my dear husband? Is there anything I can do for you?’ She asked, her voice sweet as usual. He’d heard this words numerous times. But this time, rather than pleasant, it sounded eerie.

‘Do you think you could… untie me?’ He asked, weakly. She shook her head.

‘I mean, do you have any last wish before I devour you?’ She asked, her voice as calm as before. Maybe even more.

‘D-devour me?’ What an odd choice of words. ‘Irene, what is going on? Untie me, this isn’t funny.’ He was still scared but he tried to regain some of his charisma and authority over her. This was all frustrating but if she came back to her senses now, he could probably forgive her.

She made a few steps towards him and he shuddered without meaning to. He still could not forget the image from seconds before.

She noticed.

‘You saw me, didn’t you? You don’t think I’m pretty anymore, Junmyeon?’ She looked straight at him, her left hand playing with the ends of her hair. Her face looked haunted, the man thought to himself, completely devoid of any emotion. Eyes empty. ‘Aren’t I pretty? I’m perfect, aren’t I?’

‘I…’ Junmyeon closed his mouth, not sure how to respond.

‘I’m your perfect doll, aren’t I? Just the way you like it.’ She touched her lips and this time, her lips twisted in a slow smirk, eyes still clouded. ‘Golden locks and big, innocent eyes. You’re so predictable.’

She finally approached him and slid one manicured finger down his cheek. He unconsciously held his breath, but nothing happened.

‘But your friend Jongin… He sees me as a petite red head with big s. Innocent and helpless, I guess you both have that in common. You like to have your manly ego and save damsels in distress. When I see him at the funeral, I’m sure he will be more than willing to take care of me.’

‘At-at the funeral? Whose funeral? What are you talking about?’ Junmyeon spit, alarmed.

‘Your funeral,  my dear husband. I have already bought a black dress…’ She trailed off, looking like she was ready to go to her wardrobe just to show it to him, but ultimately dismissed the thought. Sh turned back to him.

‘I don’t understand anything but this isn’t funny-‘

‘It’s not funny.’ Her quiet voice interrupted his much louder one. The rope against his forearms was hurting him and he was completely freaked out by now. ‘It’s not funny, it’s the truth. You were an easy prey, Junmyeon – I’m disappointed. You’re pedantic and organised. You don’t tolerate anything less than perfect. Even your ual fantasies are boring. It took just one pretty obedient girl to completely make you let your guard down.

‘I’ve lasted by your side just enough for the others to not suspect a thing. After all, who would suspect a sweet girl like me of a brutal crime? They will sympathise with a young widow and take care of me. Jongin will take care of me, won’t he? I have a feeling he might make a better husband than you. Maybe I can even let him live a bit longer than you. But you have to admit, Junmyeon, it is all your fault. You’re just too boring.’

‘Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?!’ He demanded to know, just to stall for time, although he had no idea what to do to stop the crazy girl. Was she really even a girl?

‘Don’t take it personally. I’ve told you from the beginning, remember? I told you that after marriage, all I’ll ask for is your heart. You laughed and said that it’s already mine. You promised, Junmyeon. You promised me your heart.’ She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, even though he tried to get away. He couldn’t. ‘You’ve seen me, haven’t you? I can only be pretty like this if I have your heart. You despised and thought less of me – so naturally, you couldn’t have seen this happened. But it’s like you predicted – women care only about money and their looks. I already have your fortune. But I need to be beautiful, Junmyeon. I have to be beautiful.’ Her eyes were misted with a tinge of sadness as she looked at him. ‘I’m really sorry. I’ll make sure to console your friend when you’re gone.’

‘What-‘ Was the last thing Junmyeon managed to say before an unbearable pain shot through his chest. With his last dying breath, he saw Irene messily chewing on his heart. His heart. The blood from the still pumping artery was running down her chin, nearly as red as her lips. She looked at him innocently.

‘You could have spared me the theatrics.’ A figure appeared in the corner of the bedroom, voice ironic, but Irene did not even turn around, still seated on the floor in front of her husband’s body and chewing at the flesh thoughtfully. She knew who it was.

‘I couldn’t help myself.’ She replied quietly. ‘They taste much more delicious when they’re scared.’