"There will be a massive concert in Seoul," Seo-young declared. "But this is no ordinary concert. It will be your first 'Homecoming' performance since our wedding. I want the whole world to see how time itself stands still when Seo-young's wife takes the stage."
Arin asked in shock, "The concert is tomorrow? You've already arranged everything?"
Seo-young replied with absolute confidence, "When I am your owner, nothing is impossible. Tomorrow night, your five songs will echo through Seoul's largest stadium. But this time, you aren't alone. I will be right there in the front row, so everyone understands—this pop idol is a captive of only one man's love."
Arin rested her head on Seo-young's chest and thought: people might look at her on stage and feel envy, but they have no idea how blissful it is to be trapped in the cage of this powerful mafia boss's love.
The Crack in the Harmony
Arin pulled away from the paper on the balcony and said in a soft, coaxing voice, "Seo-young, I can't perform five songs tomorrow. My body is so exhausted from last night's intensity and today's travel... Please, can't we postpone the concert?"
The moment he heard the word "No," Seo-young's gaze shifted instantly. The tender lover vanished, replaced by the cold, iron-willed mafia don. He leaned over her, his jaw tightening into a rigid line.
Gripping Arin's chin firmly, he spoke in a low but thunderous tone, "I do not like the word 'No,' Arin. You know that well. I have informed the entire city of Seoul that my Queen returns to the stage tomorrow. And now you say you can't?"
Arin tried to step back in fear, but he wouldn't let go. Staring directly into her eyes, he said, "Don't make me become the old Seo-young again. Do not forget—as well as I know how to love, I know how to rule. If you do not stand on that stage tomorrow, I will have to bring out my favorite 'toy' again."
Arin gasped, "Are you threatening me again?"
Seo-young pulled a small silver pistol from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. He said coldly, "This isn't a threat, Arin. It is a command. Either you shake Seoul with five songs tomorrow, or the 2:00 AM gun game begins again. And you know how terrifying the punishment is if you lose that game."
He whispered into her ear, "You must spread your wings tomorrow, Arin, because your wings are in my fist."
The Rebellion
Seeing his stubbornness, Arin didn't back down. Her own defiant side flared up. Glancing disdainfully at the silver pistol on the table, she looked him straight in the eyes.
"You can show me guns or whatever you want, but I will not sing five songs!" she shouted. "I can do two at most. This is a body, not a machine! Do you even consider me human?"
Seo-young stood stunned for a moment. It was as if war drums were beating in the silent penthouse. He stepped forward, pinning her against the wall. "You are testing my patience, Arin. Two songs? Is my honor worth only two songs to you? I want five, and five it shall be."
Arin held her head high, sparks of fire in her eyes. She pushed against his chest. "You want to punish me? Go ahead! You want to shoot? Do it! But I won't do more than two. Save your 'mafia-giri' for the outsiders, not for me."
Seo-young's fist clenched. The atmosphere was so thick it felt like something would snap. But suddenly, his expression shifted. He let out a loud, dark laugh. There was no mercy in it, only a devious plan.
He picked up the pistol and traced it lightly along her waist. "Fine, Arin. Sing two songs. But remember, the time and energy you are saving by skipping those three songs... you will have to repay that in full tomorrow night behind the closed doors of this hotel. Deal?"
Arin's heart thudded. She realized that while he gave her an inch outside, he wouldn't give her a centimeter inside.
The Breaking Point
Arin was now utterly furious. Hearing his conditions and seeing the gun again made her blood boil. Instead of fearing him, she began to shake with rage.
"Fear? Hmmm... you're trying to scare me? 🤬🤬 You think I'll crawl at your feet just because you show me that pistol?"
Arin snatched the silver pistol from the table. Seo-young watched in disbelief as Arin pressed the gun against her own chest. Her eyes were filled with tears and unyielding stubbornness.
"Go ahead! Pull the trigger!" she screamed. "Here is the gun, here is your pride! You cannot force me to do anything. You might be a mafia boss, but you have no power over me. If you want to force me, then end it all right now!" 🤬
Seo-young turned to stone. He never imagined the gentle Arin would counter-attack like this. His murderous gaze softened instantly. He realized he had crossed the line.
"Arin, calm down. I was joking..." he said, trying to carefully take the gun back.
"Joking? You call this a joke?" Arin threw the pistol across the room and marched inside from the balcony. Sobbing, she cried out, "I won't even sing two songs! I'm not going to your concert! Go dance on the stage with your gun alone!"
The Surrender of a King
Seo-young stood paralyzed on the balcony. Arin's sobs pierced his heart like arrows. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "What have I done? I tried to please her and ended up ruining everything."
He might be the angel of death to the world, but Arin's single tear had shattered his ego. He knelt beside the bed where she lay crying.
"Arin... I made a huge mistake. Please look at me."
The man who never bowed to anyone was now kneeling before her. He took her hand. "I was just scared. Seeing your success in Paris made me feel like you were drifting away, so I tried to hold onto you like a madman. Forgive me. You don't have to sing even two songs. It will be exactly as you wish."
The Silk Ribbon
Seeing she was still unresponsive, Seo-young's devious possessiveness flared up again. As Arin tried to walk toward the dressing table in a huff, Seo-young moved with lightning speed.
He grabbed the thin silk ribbon tied at the back of her robe.
Arin was forced to a halt, the ribbon taut in his hand. She turned to find that intoxicating, mysterious smile on his face. With a jerk, he pulled her flush against his chest.
"Don't try to run, Arin," he whispered in her ear. "I admitted my mistake, but not so I could let you go. Whether you sing two songs or five—this ribbon remains in my hand."
He wrapped the ribbon around his fingers. "There's no use moving away in anger. You know I can take everything, but I only know how to want you. Now tell me, will the concert happen, or does our new war start right here?"
The Forbidden Heaven
All of Arin's anger turned to liquid. She realized escaping his thirst was impossible. She surrendered, sitting in his lap. Seo-young's gaze deepened; he slowly untied the remaining silk knots of her nightgown. As the silk slid to the floor, Arin hid her face in his neck out of shyness.
He stripped quickly. Their bodies were so close only the sound of their heartbeats remained. He pulled her onto him on the bed.
With a mix of sharp pain and surreal pleasure, Arin entered him. Her eyes watered as she gripped his muscular shoulders. "Aahh... it hurts!"
"Endure it a little, Arin... this pain is the true taste of love," he whispered, his muscles tensing as he gripped her waist.
The room fell into an otherworldly silence, save for the sound of their breathing and the friction of their bodies. In that dark room, Paris became a forbidden heaven.
The White Trace of Possession
As they reached the peak of intensity, their bodies shook violently. Arin felt a warm surge within her. As the white fluid was released, Seo-young's eyes burned like fire.
He didn't stop; he pulled her even closer, burying his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her sweat and perfume. It was the satisfaction of a victorious predator.
"These white traces prove, Arin, how deeply you belong to me," he whispered. He wiped the tear from the corner of her eye with his lips.
"I Love You"
Lying exhausted on his chest, a magical glow spread across Arin's face. All the fatigue and anger of the previous night washed away. Her cheeks turned a bright rose pink.
She entwined her fingers with his and whispered, "I love you..."
Then she began to giggle. It was a laugh of pure surrender. Seo-young's hardened mafia heart melted instantly. He pulled her closer, showering her forehead with kisses.
"I could destroy the world just for that laugh, Arin. You are my world."
Arin playfully pulled his nose. "Now that I've said I love you, can that gun stay in the drawer?"
Seo-young laughed, leaning over her on the soft sheets. "The gun lost to your smile a long time ago. From now on, only love rules this room."
And so, the final morning in Paris began with laughter and love. Before returning to Seoul, they began to dream of a new life together.