The Rules of This World

The drive was smooth, the city slipping past in a blur of wet pavement and flickering neon. Minjae's fingers rested lazily on the wheel, his other hand draped over the gear shift, completely at ease.

Joon's sunglasses still in place despite the night, legs stretched out, arms folded as he exhaled the last drag of his cigarette. The smell of smoke and leather filled the car, a scent Minjae had long since grown used to.

They weren't heading to a boardroom.

Not a warehouse, not a deal at the docks, not a silent execution in an abandoned building.

No.

Tonight was about a different kind of business.

Kim Taeri.

Minjae smirked to himself, amusement flickering in the molten bronze of his gaze.

Ah. That woman.

He had lost count of how many times he'd fucked her.

In hotel rooms with silk sheets and champagne.

In her car after one of her dull charity events.

In her husband's own office, with her nails digging into his back as she moaned his name like a prayer.

Even on the night of her wedding.

That had been particularly entertaining.

White dress pulled up, veil still clipped in her perfectly styled hair, wedding ring freshly placed on her delicate little hand—moaning into the mirror as he ruined her from behind.

What a devoted wife.

He chuckled to himself.

"Something funny?" Joon asked, not bothering to look at him.

Minjae hummed.

"Just thinking."

Joon snorted. "That's never good."

Minjae smirked but didn't argue.

Kim Taeri was a dangerous woman.

Not because she had power—she didn't.

Not because she was loyal—she wasn't.

But because she knew exactly how to use what she had.

She was beautiful, yes, but that wasn't what made her formidable.

It was the way she played the game.

She was married to Jung Minsik, a man well into his sixties, bloated with wealth, too powerful for his own good. He controlled a significant portion of the arms trade in Seoul, his hands wrapped tightly around key distribution channels.

The kind of man that wasn't easy to touch.

But Taeri?

Taeri had her perfectly manicured nails wrapped around his fucking throat.

She fed him lies between soft kisses, whispered sweet nothings while riding his cock, made him believe he was still in control while slowly guiding the knife to his back.

It was impressive, really.

Even Minjae had to respect it.

Of course, she wasn't betraying her husband out of ambition or revenge.

She was betraying him because she was bored.

And because she was attached to his dick now, instead of the old bastard's.

He smiled to himself.

The rules of this world were simple.

Nothing was free.

Not loyalty.

Not trust.

Not pleasure.

Everything was an exchange.

And in Taeri's case, she gave information.

And in return?

He gave her the illusion of importance.

Because that's what it was—an illusion.

She liked to pretend she was powerful because she was fucking Kang Minjae.

That it meant something.

That she meant something.

It was adorable.

Minjae didn't mind playing along.

He gave her just enough to keep her satisfied.

Let her call him 오빠* in that breathy little voice of hers.

(Oppa* it's similar to calling someone "babe" or "darling" in English. Only women use "오빠" when addressing an older male!)

Let her scratch his back and tell herself she had some control.

Let her think she was anything more than a piece in his game.

But in the end?

She was nothing.

Just a woman chasing power through men's cocks.

And he was happy to let her believe she was getting somewhere.

The lounge was quiet, steeped in luxury, the kind of place where conversations were meant to be whispered, where deals were struck over glasses of aged whiskey, where secrets flowed as freely as the alcohol.

Kim Taeri sat in the center of it all, a living temptation wrapped in black silk, her long legs crossed with the elegance of a woman who knew her worth—or at least, pretended to.

She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching Minjae with amusement as he slid into the seat across from her.

"오빠!" she purred, tilting her head, red lips curving in a smile.

Minjae smirked.

"Taeri."

Joon sat beside him, impassive as ever, but Minjae didn't miss the way he exhaled sharply through his nose, already irritated by the woman's presence.

Not that she cared.

Taeri thrived on attention.

And Minjae?

He indulged when it suited him.

She flicked the ash from her cigarette before leaning forward, resting her chin against her palm.

"You're late."

Minjae tilted his head, unbothered. "You're impatient."

She chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "Only when it comes to you."

Minjae didn't bother responding.

Instead, he held out his hand, palm up.

The game was simple.

She had something for him.

He had something for her.

An equal exchange.

Taeri's red nails slid a small USB drive across the table, right into his waiting fingers.

"Everything you asked for" she murmured, watching him carefully.

Joon took the USB, inspecting it briefly before slipping it into his pocket.

Minjae didn't take his eyes off her."You're being very generous."Her lips curved."Well" she purred, "I'd like to think I'm being compensated appropriately.""Drink first." he murmured, "then we'll talk about your compensation."She chuckled, clinking her glass against his before taking a slow sip.Joon, beside them, sighed deeply, rubbing his temple.Minjae ignored him.

This was business.

And Taeri?

Taeri knew how to sell herself just as well as she sold secrets.Taeri leaned back, stretching out her long legs, letting her dress ride up just enough to tease."Do you like it?" she mused, holding up her hand.Minjae's gaze flickered lazily to her fingers, to the massive diamond gleaming under the dim lighting.

An insultingly large ring.

Ugly, really.

But that wasn't the point.

"It's new" she added, lips curling. "A little gift from my husband."

Minjae hummed, unimpressed."For what?"

She smirked."For being his perfect wife."

Joon snorted.Minjae chuckled, taking a slow sip of whiskey."And by perfect, you mean—?"She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes."Fucking him when necessary" she murmured, "and keeping my mouth shut when it's not."

Ah. Classic.

Jung Minsik was predictable.An aging bastard drowning in money and paranoia, constantly trying to prove that his decades-younger wife was still devoted to him.So he did what all pathetic old men did—bought her.

Expensive rings.Luxury vacations.

Dresses that cost more than some men made in a year.

A desperate attempt to keep her loyal.

But loyalty?

Loyalty wasn't something men like him could buy.

Not in this world.

Not when there were men like Kang Minjae.

"Why the sudden generosity?" Minjae mused. "He trying to buy back your attention?"Taeri's smirk didn't falter."Not exactly."She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming.

"There's a dinner this weekend" she murmured. "High-profile. Some Japanese investors flying in. He wants me to look good."

Minjae hummed."To parade you around?"

She chuckled."Obviously."

Of course.

What else was a trophy wife good for?

Minjae swirled his drink, gaze flicking back to the diamond."And what do you get out of it?"

Her lips curled.

"Nothing I didn't already have," she murmured, eyes locking onto his. "But you know how much I enjoy feeling… important."

Ah.

There it was.

Her weakness.

She didn't care about money.

She didn't care about love.

She cared about power.

Or at least, the illusion of it.

Minjae smirked, setting his glass down.

"And I assume you didn't just invite me here to brag about your jewelry."

She exhaled a slow stream of smoke, gaze sharp."Of course not."

Taeri tapped her nails against the table, considering him.

"You've heard about the Minister?" Minjae raised a brow. "What about him?" She sighed, shaking her head. "A mess" she muttered. "Someone really has it out for him."

"Is that so?"

She didn't notice the amusement in his tone, too wrapped up in her own intrigue. "He's disappeared" she continued. "Rumors are flying. Some think he's dead. Some think he ran. His assets are frozen. His connections are pulling away." She swirled her drink, eyes flicking back to his.

"And the daughter?"

Minjae smirked.

"Who knows?"

Taeri hummed.

"A shame." she murmured. "I think I fucked him once or twice." Joon exhaled sharply, looking deeply like he wanted to be anywhere but here.Minjae, however, just smirked, swirling his drink."Of course you did."She laughed, tilting her head."Typical, right?"

"Very." She chuckled, resting her chin on her palm. "Well, it seems someone finally had enough of his bullshit." Minjae hummed, gaze flickering with amusement. "Seems that way." She watched him for a moment, then smirked.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"Minjae tilted his head.

"Taeri."

"Hm?"

He leaned in slightly, voice smooth, easy.

"Would I tell you if I did?"

She exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No." she murmured, lifting her glass. "I suppose not." Minjae smirked. "Good girl." Her gaze darkened slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Are you going to reward me for being a good girl?" Minjae chuckled, sipping his drink. "Let's talk business first." She sighed, feigning disappointment, but leaned in, eyes sharp.

Business first. Pleasure later. As always.

Because in this world? 

Nothing was ever free.

༺♰༻

The room smelled of sex and smoke.

The kind of scent that clung to the air, to the sheets, to the skin. A mixture of sweat, perfume, and the sharp tang of nicotine curling into every crevice of the dimly lit hotel suite. Kim Taeri lay sprawled across the bed, sheets tangled around her naked, well-fucked body, a cigarette lazily perched between her lips. The soft glow of the city seeped through the curtains, casting golden lines across her exposed skin. Minjae stood by the window, back straight, half-dressed, his fingers deftly fastening the buttons of his black dress shirt. The muscles along his shoulders flexed slightly as he adjusted the fabric, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles with sharp, precise movements.

A practiced ritual.

Like everything else in his life.

He felt her gaze on him before she spoke.

"You were different tonight."

His fingers stilled.

Then resumed.

"I was the same." he mused, voice even, calm. Taeri took a slow drag, her red nails tapping against the porcelain ashtray on the bedside table. "No." she murmured, exhaling, the smoke curling in the air like a ghost. "Not like that." Minjae didn't answer, didn't turn, just kept working on his cufflinks, slipping each silver piece into place with methodical ease.

"You were feral."

That made him pause. Then—a faint smirk. "When am I not?" Taeri chuckled, shifting slightly, rolling onto her side to face him, the sheets barely covering the curve of her hip. "Usually, you're controlled," she mused, watching him carefully. "You like taking your time, like savoring every moment. But tonight…"

She trailed off, tilting her head, lips pursed. "Tonight, it felt like you were trying to get rid of something." His jaw clenched.

Tch. 

She was observant.

Annoyingly so.

Minjae finished with his buttons, rolling his sleeves up just slightly before smoothing a hand over his chest, adjusting the fabric. "Didn't seem like you minded," he muttered. Taeri laughed, stretching lazily. "Of course not. It was quite the experience. But it makes me wonder…" She flicked the cigarette, watching the ash fall. "What's on your mind, Minjae?" He finally turned then, his expression unreadable, his gaze sharp, dark, but not entirely present.

"Nothing that concerns you" he said smoothly.

Taeri smirked, unbothered, inhaling another slow drag.

"Liar."

Minjae didn't respond.

Because she was right.

It wasn't about her.

It wasn't even about what they had just done.

Because the moment he had stepped into this room, the moment he had kissed her, something had felt off. For the first time, it had felt forced. Not the act itself—that was easy. That was muscle memory.

But the desire?

That had been missing.

He had gone through the motions, let himself get lost in the heat, the sweat, the pleasure—but it was mechanical. It had always been mechanical with her, but this time, he had noticed. Because halfway through— Halfway through, when her nails had dug into his back and her lips had whispered filth into his ear— His mind had wandered.

Not to her.

To someone else.

To wide, terrified blue eyes.

To trembling hands, small and delicate.

To a soft, breathless whisper—"..Please."

His grip on the windowsill tightened.

Tch.

Fucking annoying.

Taeri wasn't stupid.

She knew something had shifted in him.

But she also knew better than to push. So instead, she sighed, flicking the cigarette again, watching the ember glow."Will I see you again soon?" Minjae exhaled slowly, adjusting his cuffs once more.

"We'll see."

That was enough for her.

For now.

༺♰༻

Joon sat in the car, legs spread, fingers drumming against the leather of the steering wheel. The soft glow of his cigarette pulsed in the darkness, the air inside thick with smoke.

Tenth one.

Tenth fucking cigarette.

He exhaled sharply, flicking the ash out the cracked window, irritation crawling up his spine. This was fucking ridiculous. He was a goddamn underboss. A fucking legend in the underworld. And yet—here he was, playing babysitter to a goddamn parked car while his boss got his dick wet.

Tch.

"Fucking unfair" he muttered, taking another long drag. How long had it been? Two hours? Three? What the fuck were they even doing up there? Well. He knew exactly what they were doing.

Still.

Didn't make it less annoying. Joon ran a hand over his shaved head, exhaling deeply. He needed a fucking drink.

Or a woman.

Hell, maybe both.

Because if he had to sit here for another goddamn minute while Minjae had his fun, he was going to lose his goddamn mind. When the fuck was it his turn? Annoyed, he took another deep drag of his cigarette—just as the car door finally opened. Minjae slid in, looking completely composed, as if he hadn't just spent the last few hours between a pair of expensive thighs. 

Joon side-eyed him.

Minjae ignored him.

The car smelled of smoke and leather and fucking frustration.

"Have fun?" Joon muttered, voice dry.

Minjae smirked, adjusting his cuffs.

"Jealous?"

Joon rolled his eyes, tossing his cigarette out the window.

"Fuck off."

Minjae chuckled, starting the engine. Joon sighed, rubbing his temple. "Seriously, though. How long are we gonna do this shit?" Minjae raised a brow. "This shit?" "This." Joon gestured vaguely. "Meetings, fucking around, wasting time. The Minister's still missing, the detective won't drop it, and we both know you're thinking about something else."

Minjae didn't answer right away.

Because Joon was right.

Tch.

Annoying.

His fingers drummed against the wheel. "Don't worry." he murmured, voice smooth, even. "I'll take care of everything." Joon exhaled. "That's what I'm afraid of."

The car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the night.