The Fortress Photoshoot: A Global Icon
After the historic concert, Seo-young led Arin to an ancient yet luxurious fortress on the outskirts of Paris for her biggest international brand photoshoot.
1. Diamonds and Perfume:
Arin was draped in a transparent diamond necklace and a sky-blue fine silk gown. As the wind caught the fabric, she posed with a bottle of a famous French perfume. The photographer yelled, "Magical!" But Arin only saw Seo-young standing behind the cameras, observing her every move with hungry eyes.
2. The Vintage Predator:
Next, in the courtyard, a red vintage open-top car was placed. Arin wore a black leather mini-dress and long black gloves with deep red lipstick. The sight made even the stoic Seo-young's breath grow heavy. He suddenly stopped the shoot, walked over, and draped a heavy red chain around her neck. "Now take the photo," he told the photographer. "She isn't just beautiful now; she is a predator."
3. The Golden Hour:
As the sun set behind the Eiffel Tower, Arin posed in a golden slit gown that accentuated every curve. Bathed in the final rays of light and a thin sheen of sweat, she looked like a living goddess.
After the shoot, Seo-young dismissed the crew. "The world will see this cover tomorrow, Arin," he whispered, placing a hand on her golden gown. "But they will only see the image. The right to breathe in the scent of this body belongs only to me."
The Night at the Suite: A Queen's Return
They returned to the most expensive suite in Paris, right next to the Eiffel Tower. The room was filled with white roses and scented candles.
Seo-young stood behind her at the massive window. "Tonight, all of Paris was mad for you, Arin. Thousands of cameras tried to capture you. But at the end of the day, you are in this room, in my arms."
He pulled a velvet box from his pocket containing a rare blue diamond necklace. As he fastened it around her neck, Arin whispered, "I only want to be your queen, Seo-young. I don't care for the world's glitter." He swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed, leaving the sparkling Eiffel Tower as the only witness to their private sanctuary.
The Fire Within: Unmasked Passion
Inside the room, the heat was rising. Seo-young began unbuttoning his shirt while staring deeply into Arin's eyes. As his muscular chest was revealed, Arin felt her breath hitch. He tossed the shirt aside and pulled her close.
"The cold Paris air cannot extinguish the fire in my body, Arin," he whispered. He placed her hands on his bare chest, letting her feel his racing heartbeat. "Tonight, there are no cameras. No audience. Only you and me."
Seo-young began to lead her toward the bed as the candles flickered. "Tonight," he bit her earlobe softly, "I will teach you exactly why you belong to no one else in this world but me."
The Midnight Storm: The White Sheets
The door was locked. The world was shut out. On the floor lay a trail of discarded luxury—his shirt, her golden gown.
On the bed, a primitive storm had taken hold. Arin was nearly lost beneath Seo-young's powerful frame. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and stifled cries—not of fear, but of a thirst finally being quenched.
Arin gripped the crisp white bedsheets in a blur of ecstasy. The fabric bunched and wrinkled under her fingernails as waves of electricity surged through her.
"Hold the sheets tighter, Arin," Seo-young whispered with a hot breath against her ear. "Because there is no escape from the intoxication of this night."
As midnight passed over Paris, the Eiffel Tower's lights dimmed in comparison to the intensity in that room. The sheets remained crushed in Arin's grip as they reached the peak of their connection.
The Morning After: A New Life
The morning sun pierced through the silk curtains. Arin opened her eyes to a profound sense of peace. The bedsheets were still a mess—a reminder of the night she had spent clinging to them.
She sat up, wrapped in a thin white sheet. Looking in the mirror, she saw the faint red marks of love on her neck and shoulders. She smiled with shy satisfaction.
Seo-young entered from the balcony, wearing a black silk robe and holding a steaming cup of coffee. He sat beside her and kissed her forehead deeply. "Good morning, my Queen of Paris."
"Was it a dream?" Arin whispered, leaning against his shoulder.
"Not a dream," he said, tilting her chin up. "The marks on your body and soul prove how real last night was. Today is our last day in Paris. I want the world to know who you belong to."
He handed her a gift box. Inside was a magnificent white diamond ring and an engagement card. Arin's eyes filled with tears.
"Get ready," he said. "The private jet is waiting. We are returning to Seoul—not as a captive and her captor, but as my life partner."
The Playful Reminder
Arin hit his chest playfully and laughed. "Are you out of your mind? We got married a long time ago! Did you forget? The whole world watched the live broadcast of our grand wedding! Has that memory vanished from your head?"
Seo-young froze, then that familiar mysterious smirk returned. He pinched her nose. "Oh, I completely forgot! Honestly, I was so drunk on the intoxication of last night that it felt like I was finding you for the very first time."
He looked into her eyes. "The wedding happened before society. But last night, our souls truly merged. To me, it was a rebirth. That's why I felt the need to make you mine all over again."
Arin laughed, "You might be a terrifying mafia boss, but you're a surprisingly forgetful one!"
"I can forget the whole world, Arin," he replied, kissing her forehead, "but I will never forget the magic in your eyes. Let's return to Seoul. Our palace is waiting."
The Last Morning: A Living Poem
The last morning in Paris was extraordinarily calm. Arin sat on the balcony in a white silk robe, her hair flowing over her back. She sipped coffee while reading a fashion magazine where her face was on the front page.
Inside, Seo-young lay propped up on the bed, watching her with fixed intensity. He wasn't reading the papers; he was reading her. He watched the way the sunlight hit her face, thinking how different she was from the "ordinary idol" he had first captured.
Arin felt his gaze. "What is it? Why are you staring? Do you want the newspaper?"
"What is written in that paper is nothing compared to the view in front of me," he replied in a deep, melodic voice. "I'm not reading the news. I'm reading the most beautiful poem of my life."
The King and His Idol
Seo-young walked onto the balcony and stood behind her. He looked at the headline that dubbed her the 'K-pop Queen.'
"All of Paris knows you as a Queen today," he whispered in her ear. "They know you as an idol with magic in her voice. But there is one thing they don't know, Arin..."
Arin turned to look at him. His eyes were full of pride and possession. He lifted her chin. "They know you are an idol. But I know that I am the owner of this idol. Your voice, your body, even the love of your thousands of fans... at the end of it all, the final name written on everything is mine."
Arin smiled softly. "Is your thirst for ownership still not quenched?"
Seo-young laughed. Then, he made a grand declaration. "Satisfaction is only the beginning, Arin. Tomorrow..."