014

JEON

My men are frozen—even in drunken, drugged state—like scared children, eyes darting between me and her.

Silence.

Noone speak.

And there. In the doorway.

Her.

Standing in a nightgown—disheveled and pissed as hell.

With my son pressed to her chest—his face scrunched, tiny fists clenched into fistfuls of her shirt, eyes swollen from crying. She's yelling—her displeasure ring out across the party.

Then her slim frame disappearing into the crowd. Left.

She left—after storming in here, shutting off the music, yelling at my men like they were schoolboys?

And noone stopped her.

Noone even breathed wrong.

Not even me? I stay seated. Glass in hand. I can't look away the spot where she stood.

Hair messy from sleep. Eyes blazing like fire, Clutching my son like he’s sacred—and me?

I sit—silent.

Stunned?

Yeah.

Maybe for a second.

Anger?

No. Not even close.

But impressed.

The woman walks into a den of wolves, full of armed men high on power and chemicals, and doesn’t flinch—she commands, yells like she owns the damn air i breathe.

Even Lucas quieted when she spoke—not out of fear, but trust. Like he knew his mother was drawing the line…

Mother?

And that line was drawn at me.

I sigh— take another sip.

The room dead silent—no music, no laughter.

Just smoke hanging low and the weight of what just happened settling over them all...

My fingers tighten around the glass, gaze locked on the empty doorway, where she stood—barefoot, furious, holding my son like she had every right to judge me.

And maybe she does.

A queen doesn’t beg.

A queen doesn’t flinch.

Silence falls heavier than before.

"Fuck… I almost peed in my pants" one mutters, voice shaky.

Another nods, wide-eyed "No wonder she’s a lawyer. Fucking terrifying."

Their faces still stunned—like they saw a ghost or a goddess.

Sigh.

One scratches his head "Never had my wife raise her voice like that… Hell, I’d respect her more now"

Another snorts, rubbing his bruised knuckles “Nah, my wife doesn’t scold— but i get beaten with a slipper then kicked outta of my house when I come home drunk.”

They laugh. Nervous at first, then real.

But not all of them laugh.

I sip.

One guy near the back—he’s quiet. Pale even through his drunken haze—shakes his head slowly like he just witnessed something holy being desecrated and doesn’t know how to react "...She stood up to the boss.. for Lucas..."

My hand freeze in mid sip.

Silence drapes over the chuckles.

And we all listened.

Even me. I drain my glass slow—eyes still on the door where she vanished into shadow—

They are in corner—rum in hand.

"You know when women are this feisty, this angry, they're usually dominating in bed." One whispers.

Dominating? Her?

"Really?" Other asks.

He nods, downing his shot "Yeah, damn. That's a kink and a half."

They all look away—avoiding my gaze.

They're like stupid little kids—drunk and ignorant—but their words stirring something.

I lean back— My little lawyer is dominating in bed? But she was crying when i take her?

Maybe because i dominated her, thats why— Or maybe she was just scared shitless... of me.I hold the glass tight.

But noone ever dominates me on bed, how do i know that-

Loud laughter echos.

"Oh yeah? You think she's a dominatrix?" One slurs.

"Hell, with how she just walked in here and put us all in our place…I'm gonna say definitely."

I sip slow.

Then another.

"Man, my wife's like a prissy cat...all hissing and claws…"

Another laughs "Mine's more like a damn snake…quiet but she's good with her tongue…"

Fools.

They're all drunk as hell, slurring words and laughing like idiots—"I mean, man I haven't touched her in a month..."

Another swaying on his feet "Damn, a month? I've been sleeping on the damn couch for three."

Laughter.

"At least you're still in the house, dumbass."

Fuck—these guys are unbearable.

Annoying.

I take a slow sip, But can’t gulp down the whiskey. Eyes stuck on that door—

She could’ve come to me— Quietly. In private and could say “Jeon, the noise... Lucas can’t sleep.”

Maybe a sigh. A plea. Even a glare behind closed doors.

But no—she didn’t beg.

Didn’t sneak in with lowered eyes like everyone else in this damn house.

She marched in here—storm blazing—and told me to fuck off in front of the whole gang who’d kill by a nod from me.

And they listened, Because she held my son like armor.My teeth grit. No one’s ever stood up to me like that and walked away untouched—not enemies, not rivals… not even my own blood dared after the first warning shot was fired years ago.Most go into pathetic little holes or get shaky just thinking about confronting me... hell, most are scared to laugh too loud around me.

But not her.

Her?

A lawyer I forced into marriage.A woman scared of her own shadow at first…Who trembled when I raised my voice—

Now?

Now she walks into hell and shuts it down barefoot, holding my son.

Damn woman. Did she just say we do nothing but kill people, day in, day out for the past 50 years?

I almost laugh.

She's funny.

And brave.

No one's ever had the balls to spit harsh truth to my face—let alone my gang.

And she did all this… for my Lucas.

My son...

Who else could be a better mother for my son…?

Wait... why am I even thinking like this?

"Mr. Jeon" the girl beside me moans, This bitches!

Hands roaming on my chest like they belong there "Who was that girl Mr. Jeon?"

I don’t look at her. Fingers warm on my chest—

My eyes on the door—the spot where she was with my son.  "My wife."

The hands on me freeze—

Then, slowly, they draw back. Good.

"Y-your wife?"

"Yes!" Wooshik exclaims loudly "Boss is married now. So could you guys just get lost with your damn STD-riddled asses?"

Loud Gasps-

"We don't have a damn STD, nerd" one snaps.

"Saw you visiting the gyno the other day.." wooshik snarks.

A beat.

They stand up."When the hell did you see us at the gyno, dumbass?"

"I have eyes everywhere" wooshik scoffs.

"And what were you doing there, you big virgin-" one girl shoots back, "do you also have a damn pussy too?"

"Shut your mouth-"

"Or what, you gonna cry like a baby-?" The girls laugh—Wooshik, red in the face now.

“You really think boss would touch you" he snaps "He doesn’t even look at you.”

One girl throws a high heel at him—misses by inches.

“I’ve got class!” she screeches

“Class? You were doing body shots off a biker named Skull ten minutes ago,”He in the middle of it all, yelling like a damn fool.

It's loud, annoying.

Chaos erupts again—shouting, laughter, someone spills rum on the couch.

But me?

silent.

Eyes at the door. glass in my hand.I sip the drink. It doesn’t burn this time—smooth, calm. Like the storm outside finally reached its eye.

Calm. Peaceful and full all at once.

She has fire… real fire. a flame too hot to touch. She could burn me to ashes if she wanted. But for some reason, I like the warmth.

But this soothing feeling in my chest?

It’s not fear.

It’s relief.

For once, someone didn’t bow. Someone didn’t flinch.

Someone stood up—not for power, not for money—but for a crying baby in the dark.

My baby.

I take a slow drag—smoke curls up like a silent prayer into the dim air.

Around me? My men are quiet, enjoying the show—no more shouting, no more drinking too loud. They’re all... behaving. Like they’ve been scolded by their queen and actually listened.

Maybe strength isn't just in guns and bloodshed...Maybe it's also standing naked in truth… nursing my son while screaming at monsters.

And maybe...she's exactly what this empire needs to burn clean—I lean back—

"Yes, get the fuck outta here" Wooshik growls, chases off the girls, their heels clicking on the tile as they stumble out with final few insults fired his way.

The whiskey run smooth as honey down my throat.

"Boss--boss..." Wooshik comes running over, wiping his sweating brow. "Boss- they all left. Don't worry now" 

I glance at him, he puffing like he just ran a marathon.

I sigh "Why would I worry anyway, Wooshik?"

He freezes—taken aback— "Umm... ugh… they were touching you..." he stammers like a kid.

"So what?" I take another sip.

"S-so... so what?" he repeats dumbly "Boss… you're married now."

I look at him "And?"

He frowns hard— then swallows "I mean… you should only be touched by your wife, Boss."

Silence.

My thumb freeze on the rim of the glass.

Wife?

The whiskey suddenly hard in my throat. I have to force it down.

You should only be touched by your wife...

My eyes stuck on his stupid face. Only touched by my wife?

I take a deep breath and glance away, staring into the whiskey like it might hold the answer.

Wooshik is quiet—knows when to shut up.

"You know why I married her, Wooshik. So stop saying shits. I don't need your moral lectures." I take a sip—the whiskey suddenly tastes sour.

He settles next to me—awkward, shifting nervously on the couch."I… I know, boss, But still… she is your wife.."

My eyes close.

Why the fuck that word sending shivers through my body? My heart pounding? A vein in my head throb.

"Um...And only she should touch you like that" he mumbles

I glare at him— "Wooshik! For God's sake. Stop saying wife, wife. It's none of your business. Get the fuck out of here."

I down the whole last swallow of whiskey, gasping—my throat burns.

"But boss, I—"

"WHAT? HUH? WHAT?!"

He flinches— looks down at his hands, ears turning pink.

"WHY DO YOU CARE WHO'S TOUCHING ME OR NOT?" I snap "ARE YOU SAYING FOR HER OR SAYING FOR YOU?"

His head snaps up—eyes wide, mouth open "W-what… what do you mean, b-boss?!"

I lean forward "Are you interested in my cock or something?"

He gasps, face goes full crimson. He shoots up in one clumsy move and bolts out the room fast— few bottles knocks over—

Useless bastard…

Silence stretches. Slow. Calm.

I lean back, close my eyes—Sigh. Her face flashes—Dark eyes— voice sharp like shattered glass—furious face staring at me— growling—

My dick twitch.

Fuck—

My eyes open.

The room dim. Empty.

Is she the only one who should touches me now?

I exhale—

What the hell am I even thinking!It's the damn whiskey talking. Not me...

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