As Heeseung scrolled through the screen, his expression darkened. The headlines about their wedding were bad enough, but the comments? They were brutal. Anonymous strangers were tearing Yuna apart, calling her a gold digger, a manipulator, and worse. The venom in their words made his stomach churn with anger. He could practically feel the malice dripping from every sentence, each comment sharper than the last.
Heeseung clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the phone before he set it down with a firm click on the nightstand. He took a deep breath, his anger simmering beneath the surface as he turned back to Yuna. She hadn't stopped crying, her sobs now quieter but just as heartbreaking.
"Yuna," he said firmly, his hands gently gripping her shoulders to steady her. "Look at me."
She hesitated, her face still hidden behind her hands. Heeseung waited, his voice softening as he added, "Please."
Slowly, Yuna lowered her hands, her tear-streaked face finally coming into view. Her red, puffy eyes met his, and the sheer pain in them made his chest ache. She looked like she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it was crushing her.
"They don't know you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an undeniable warmth. "They don't know anything about who you are. All those words—they're just noise, Yuna. Noise from people who have nothing better to do than to tear someone else down. Don't listen to them."
"But it hurts," she whispered, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled in her eyes. "It hurts so much. They don't even know me, yet they—"
"I know," Heeseung interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing over her shoulders in a soothing motion. "I know it hurts. But listen to me, Yuna. You are not what they say you are. You are smart, kind, and strong. You have a heart bigger than anyone I've ever met. And you're beautiful—inside and out. Don't let their words make you doubt that for even a second."
Yuna sniffled, her chest still heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. His words were like a balm to her wounded heart, but the ache hadn't completely subsided.
"They want you to break," Heeseung continued, his tone firm now, as if willing her to believe him. "They want to see you crumble because it makes them feel powerful. Don't give them that satisfaction. You're so much better than them, Yuna."
She stared at him, her lip trembling as her tears began to slow. There was something about the way he spoke—so confident, so unwavering—that made her want to believe him, even if a part of her still felt raw and exposed.
Heeseung stood up, his hands leaving her shoulders as he walked to the minibar. The soft clink of glass filled the room as he poured a cup of water, his movements calm and deliberate. He returned to her side, holding the glass out to her.
"Drink this," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to hydrate after all those tears."
Yuna hesitated before taking the glass from him, her fingers brushing against his. She brought it to her lips, taking small, cautious sips. The cool water was refreshing, grounding her in a way she hadn't expected.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice hoarse.
Heeseung offered her a small, reassuring smile. "That's what I'm here for. To remind you how amazing you are when you forget. And to make sure you don't let anyone dim your light."
Yuna felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, her tears finally beginning to dry. She wasn't entirely okay, but for the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe again. And as Heeseung sat beside her, his presence steady and unwavering, she realized she wasn't as alone as she thought.
Heeseung lingered in the dimly lit corridor just outside Yuna's room, his hand still lightly brushing against his lips, which curled into a crooked grin. The faint hum of the night filled the silence, interrupted only by the muffled sound of Yuna's soft sobs drifting through the crack in the door. Her cries, though quiet, carried a weight that tugged at something deep within him, but not out of sympathy. No, Heeseung's emotions were far more complicated—twisted, even. Her vulnerability was intoxicating, a potent elixir that ignited his possessiveness.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the cold wall as a low chuckle escaped his lips. How perfectly everything had fallen into place. For months, he had been patient, weaving his web, waiting for the moment when Yuna would finally see him. Now, the tears she shed were proof that Jaewon—foolish, undeserving Jaewon—had failed her.
"Oh, Yuna…" Heeseung murmured, the corners of his lips twitching upward as he imagined her tear-streaked face. "So fragile. So beautiful. So... mine."
He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back as his mind began to wander. The memory of her sitting there, her voice trembling as she whispered, 'Thank you,' played on repeat in his head. The way her lips quivered, her lashes glistening with unshed tears—it had taken everything in him not to reach out and pull her into his arms right then and there. But he had waited. He had left her room, as any gentleman would, because this was only the beginning.
Her sobs grew softer, fading into the background as Heeseung's thoughts spiraled into a vivid tapestry of fantasies. He could see her so clearly in his mind: her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses, her breath hitching as he whispered her name.
"God, Yuna," he breathed, his voice low and unsteady. "You have no idea what you do to me."
He straightened, running his thumb along his jaw as a dark smile crept across his face. Every detail about her consumed him—the way she smiled even when she was struggling, the determination in her eyes, and even her tears. Especially her tears. They weren't just a sign of her pain; they were a sign of her need. She needed someone to take care of her, to love her, to possess her.
"I've waited so long for this," he muttered under his breath, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. "So fucking long."
The first day Yuna walked into his office played in his mind like a vivid movie reel. She had been so young, so eager to prove herself, with her innocent smile and bright eyes. From the moment he saw her, he had known she was different. She wasn't just another woman passing through his life; she was the one he wanted—the one he needed.
"Jaewon…" Heeseung's grin turned into a sneer, his teeth catching his lower lip in irritation. "What an idiot. What the hell did she ever see in him?"
The thought of Jaewon's name alone was enough to sour his mood, but the bitterness quickly gave way to satisfaction. Jaewon was out of the picture now. Heeseung had made sure of that. And Yuna? She was his. Completely.
"I've dreamed about this," he whispered, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. "About holding her, kissing her, hearing her cry out my name. God, her voice… I can still hear it in my head."
He let out a low groan, his hands clenching into fists as he leaned back against the wall. His mind filled with unholy images, each one more vivid and consuming than the last. Yuna, beneath him, her body arching as she whispered his name. Her fingers clutching at his shirt, her breath hitching as he claimed her.
"Fuck," he muttered, his voice trembling with arousal. "Her everything… it drives me insane."
He thought of her smile, the way her lips curved just slightly at the edges when she tried to be polite. He thought of her tears, those crystalline drops that only made her look more delicate, more beautiful. He thought of her determination, her innocence, the way she had walked into his world and turned it upside down without even realizing it.
"I've spent so many nights," Heeseung said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "so many nights imagining what it would feel like to have her. To see her lose herself in me, to hear her beg for more. God, just thinking about it…"
He licked his lips, his breath hitching as the fantasies grew more vivid. He could see her now, her hair spilling across the pillow, her skin flushed and glistening as she clung to him. He could hear her soft cries, feel her trembling beneath him, taste the salt of her tears as he kissed them away.
"She's mine now," Heeseung whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of triumph and lust. "And I'm never letting her go. Not Jaewon, not anyone, will take her from me."
He straightened, smoothing the creases in his shirt as he forced himself to calm down. His grin returned, sharp and knowing, as he glanced back toward Yuna's door one last time.
"Sweet dreams, Yuna," he murmured, his voice low and possessive.
With that, Heeseung walked away, his steps slow and deliberate, his mind still consumed by the unholy thoughts that only grew darker with every passing moment.