The silent room in Paris was filled only with the sound of their breathing. As Seo-young held Arin in the depths of their passion, she reached the peak of intensity and lost all control. Without realizing it, her sharp nails dug deep into Seo-young's broad shoulders and back, leaving deep scratches.
A sharp gasp escaped Seo-young's lips: "Ahhh...!"
The pain made his muscles tighten instantly. The sound snapped Arin out of her trance. She saw blood trickling from his shoulders. Terrified, she pulled her hands away.
Arin: "Oh my God! Sorry, sorry Seo-young! I... I didn't notice. I didn't realize I scratched you that hard. Does it hurt a lot?"
Overwhelmed with guilt, she reached out to touch the wounds, but Seo-young caught her hand in a sudden grip. His eyes held more intoxication than pain. He gave a dark, loving smile.
Seo-young: "There is no need to apologize, Arin. This pain is the greatest gift you've given me. Do you know why? These scratches remind me of how completely you were lost in me at that moment. This blood, this sting... this is the true taste of our forbidden heaven."
Arin: "But you're bleeding! Let me at least wipe it away?"
Seo-young pulled her closer, whispering against her ear, "Don't wipe it. Don't let these marks heal too quickly. I want this sting on my shoulder to remind me tomorrow, while you sing in front of thousands, that the woman everyone is watching belongs only to me."
Arin couldn't say a word. She softly kissed the wounded shoulder, her tears mingling with his blood. She realized how madly this mafia don truly loved her.
The Morning After: The "Medals" of Love
The next morning, golden sunlight flooded the Paris suite. Arin emerged from the bathroom, her face glowing, yet her heart heavy with guilt. She looked at Seo-young, who was propped up in bed. The scratches on his back and shoulders had turned a dark, bruised red.
She quickly grabbed an antiseptic ointment from the drawer and sat beside him. "Seo-young, turn around. Let me apply this."
He looked at her with a smirk. As she gently applied the cream and blew on the wounds to soothe the sting, she whispered, "I am really sorry... I didn't realize I was clawing that hard. Does it burn?"
Seo-young pulled her close. "Why do you keep saying sorry? That touch was more intoxicating than any pain. These marks are like medals to me. All of Seoul will know me as the Don, but only you and I will know how helpless I am at your feet."
Arin blushed and teased, "Enough with the poetry! Sit still, or these marks will get infected, and people at the concert will think the Great Don lost a fight to a stray cat!"
Seo-young roared with laughter. "Not a cat, Arin—my tigress! Now come, the private jet is ready. Seoul will see the return of Arin today."
The Royal Convoy
As they left the hotel, the scene was spectacular. Arin and Seo-young sat in the back of a luxurious black Mercedes-Benz, followed by a line of 20 to 30 black SUVs filled with armed mafia bodyguards. With sirens blaring, the convoy cut through Paris like a conquering emperor returning from war.
Arin: "Look at them staring, Seo-young. They must think I'm either a major criminal being hauled away or a queen guarded by a thousand soldiers!"
Seo-young: "Let them stare. They are seeing a display of power, but they don't know that the girl in the center of this convoy is the mistress of my entire empire. This royalty suits you."
The Homecoming: Seoul Reclaims Its Queen
When the private jet touched down in Korea, Arin was stunned. Hundreds of bodyguards bowed in unison. Media flashes were everywhere. The air in Korea carried only one message: "The Pop Queen is back, and the Mafia King is by her side."
As they drove through Seoul, Arin saw her face on every digital billboard. She turned to Seo-young with tears in her eyes. "Three years ago, I never imagined I'd return like this. Thank you for giving me back my kingdom."
Seo-young pressed her hand to his cheek. "Don't thank me. Just remember: on stage, you are everyone's queen. But behind the curtain, you are only mine."
The Final Game: The Concert Stand-off
The stadium was packed. The crowd's roar was deafening. Arin finished her first song to thunderous applause. She finished her second, but then, she did the unexpected. She stepped away from the mic and walked off stage.
The stadium went silent. Seo-young rushed backstage, his face red with fury. He grabbed her arm. "What is this, Arin? I promised Seoul five songs! Why did you stop at two?"
Arin calmly wiped her sweat and smirked. "I told you in Paris, Don—I am not a machine. I said two songs back then, and I'm keeping my word. You may be a Don, but my exhaustion doesn't care about your mafia rules."
Seo-young hissed, "You're playing with my honor! Thousands are waiting!"
Arin straightened his collar and whispered, "Honor isn't just on stage. Remember? You said if I sang fewer songs, I'd have to make up for it 'behind closed doors.' I'm just giving you the chance to collect. Or would you rather pull out your silver pistol in front of everyone?"
Seo-young was silenced by her wit. His anger turned into admiration. He realized this woman was impossible to rule. "You've become dangerous, Arin," he whispered with a smirk. "Fine. But I won't show an ounce of mercy when I collect the 'debt' for those remaining three songs tonight."
The Ultimate Encore
Seeing his frustration, Arin couldn't help but giggle. From behind the curtain, she saw his flustered face and decided to end the teasing. She grabbed the mic again and walked back out.
"I'm settling the debt for the remaining songs right now," she announced to the crowd, "but not because of a command—but for my fans, and to see a certain someone's angry face turn into a smile!"
She performed two more high-energy songs. For her final act, she looked directly at Seo-young in the VVIP box and said into the mic: "This final song is for the special man in my life, who came to rule me but ended up becoming my prisoner!"
The stadium erupted. Seo-young bowed his head, laughing with a mix of embarrassment and pride.
After the show, he greeted her with a massive bouquet of white roses.
Seo-young: "That was four songs, Arin. My condition was five. One is still missing."
Arin: "That last one is saved for us. I'll sing it for you tonight—no mic, no audience."
Seo-young swept her into his arms and roared to his men, "Get the car! Let no red light in Seoul stop us tonight!"
The Global Trend
As they reached the car, a sea of journalists captured the moment. Within minutes, the images were global: "The Royal Return of Pop Queen Arin and her Romantic Moment with Mafia King Seo-young!"
Inside the car, Seo-young handed her a bottle of water. "Let them take their pictures, Arin. They have the photo, but I have the person. Now, turn off your phone. Tonight, I want no cameras and no notifications to disturb us."
The convoy sped through the streets of Seoul, leaving a trail of flashing phones and cheering fans behind, as the King and his Queen retreated into their private world.The Accidental Spark
As Arin fell onto Seo-young while laughing, she accidentally brushed against a sensitive part of his body. The touch was sudden and electric.
Seo-young's smiling face transformed instantly. His jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath. The touch of Arin's soft body awakened the sleeping hunger within him. He gripped her waist firmly so she couldn't move.
His gaze turned dark and deep. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered in a strained voice, "Arin, won't you let me be at peace? Don't you know how hard it is to maintain control when you touch me like that?"
Arin, realizing her mistake, turned a deep shade of crimson. "I... I didn't mean to. It was an accident..."
Seo-young pinned her beneath him with a devious smile. "Accident or intent—you must be punished. Did you think a simple 'I love you' would get you off the hook? You've ignited a fire inside me again; whose responsibility is it to put it out?"
The Battle of Love
As Seo-young pulled her closer, Arin lost herself in the intensity. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. In the height of her passion, her long, sharp nails dug deep into his bare skin.
Five red streaks appeared across his shoulders. A sharp gasp escaped him—"Ahhh! Hey!"
He pulled back slightly, wincing as he tried to look at his shoulder. Looking at Arin, he feigned anger. "Arin! Are you trying to eat me alive? Look, you've almost drawn blood!"
Arin bit her lip, looking at her nails in guilt. She laughed shyly. "Oh my God! I didn't realize... did I scratch you that hard?" She began to gently stroke the marks with maternal tenderness.
Seo-young caught both her hands and pinned them above her head, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Only you have the courage to leave marks on a Mafia Don. I will collect the debt for this pain with interest. Now that these claws are in my custody, let's see how else you attack me!"
The Permanent Memory
After escaping his mischief, Arin freshened up in the shower. She emerged in a thin silk dress, water dripping from her hair. She found Seo-young on the bed with a tube of ointment.
"Does it still hurt?" she asked guiltily. "Let me apply it."
Seo-young looked at his reflection in the mirror, carefully dabbing the cream. He smiled. "I'm used to bullet wounds, but who knew your tiny nails could sting this much?"
Arin kissed his shoulder softly. "It's a sign of love! A permanent memory on the Mafia Don's body."
"Memory is just the beginning," he said, pulling her onto his lap. "The ointment might heal the pain, but the addiction to your love is in my blood. Now, come. Our private jet leaves in thirty minutes."
The Return to the Empire
They left the luxury of Paris behind. Seo-young looked powerful in his black suit, while Arin looked every bit the 'Pop Queen' in a white overcoat and stylish boots.
As their limousine headed to the airport, a convoy of black SUVs surrounded them. Pedestrians stared, imagining a head of state was passing by, never dreaming it was the infamous Seo-young and his superstar wife.
"The whole city is watching," Seo-young whispered, "but they don't know my most precious treasure is sitting right here next to me."
Homecoming: The Queen's Reign
The private jet landed at Incheon Airport. A dozen black SUVs waited on the runway. Mafia members stood in lines, bowing to their boss. Seo-young draped his jacket over Arin's shoulders. "Welcome home, Arin. Korea is waiting for you."
As they drove through Seoul, every digital billboard displayed Arin's face: "The Queen returns for the Grand Concert!"
"You've turned the whole city into my stage?" Arin asked in awe.
"Not just the city," he replied, touching her hand to his cheek. "All of Korea is standing by just to hear you sing. Whether you sing two songs or more—tomorrow, the stage is yours."
The Grand Concert: The Masul (Debt)
The stadium was a sea of lightsticks. Arin rose onto the stage in a shimmering silver outfit. She looked for only one person: Seo-young, sitting in the front row, his eyes full of pride.
After two songs, Arin was breathless. But seeing the love of the crowd, she spoke into the mic: "I didn't come here just as an idol today. I came for the one who is my strength. So, I will sing three more songs!"
The crowd roared, but Seo-young sat up straight, a mysterious smile on his face. "You're spending all your energy on stage, Arin..." he muttered. "You'll have to pay the price for those three extra songs tonight."
The Debt Collection
Backstage, Seo-young pulled Arin into a tight embrace. "Tonight you conquered Seoul, but you are only mine."
They retreated to a secluded mountain villa. Inside the car, Seo-young kissed her fingers. "Five songs? I knew you could do it. But remember, the energy you spent there... you owe it to me here."
Arin, leaning on his shoulder, teased, "I'm ready. But will your silver pistol be joining us?"
"No guns tonight, Arin," he whispered. "Just you and me."
The Mafia Dance Teacher
Arin leaned back and sighed. "No mischief tonight, Seo-young. I'm exhausted. Tonight is only for sleep."
Seo-young softened, seeing her tired face. "Fine, my love. Just sleep in my arms."
But Arin smirked. "However, I have a big job for you tomorrow. You see those bodyguards who always look so grumpy with their guns? Tomorrow, you will teach them all how to dance!"
Seo-young was flabbergasted. "What? Me? The biggest Mafia Don in Korea, teaching those stone-faced men to dance? They don't know anything but guns!"
Arin giggled. "Yes! I am the Pop Idol, and my husband will be their dance teacher. That is my command!"
The Final Laugh
Seeing Seo-young's horrified face, Arin burst into laughter. "Oh my God! You actually believed me? I was just joking, Seo-young!"
Seo-young took a breath of relief and pulled her close, nipping her ear playfully. "You have no idea... I would have made them do ballet if you asked. But you'll be punished for scaring me like that."
"No punishment!" she laughed, hiding in his chest. "Is it a crime to tease a Mafia Don?"
"It's not a crime, but the price is high," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. "Tomorrow morning belongs only to us. No dancing, no bodyguards—just you and me."
As the gates of the mountain villa opened under the moonlight, Arin realized that these playful moments were what made their bond unbreakable.