No choice left

At Selen's House - Nightfall

Rain fell in steady sheets, drumming against the windows like a warning. Thunder rolled low in the sky, patient and hungry.

Selen sat on the edge of her bed, eyes locked on the letter resting on her nightstand. Her fingers twitched in her lap-not with fear. With fury. Elira and Nyra lingered nearby, watching her like she might suddenly shatter.

"This is sick," Selen muttered, her voice sharp and shaking. "Someone's messing with me."

Nyra hesitated. "But, Selen-ah... that letter-"

"No," Selen snapped, louder now. "I'm not falling for some psycho's trap."

Her voice cracked at the edge, but her anger held. She grabbed her phone and punched in her father's number-each tap more desperate than the last.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then-

"Princess?"

Mr. Lee's voice spilled into her ear, warm and calm, wrapped in the low hum of café jazz behind him.

"Hey, Dad," she said, swallowing her panic. "Still at the café?"

"Of course," he chuckled. "Just cleaning up. Why? Already miss me?"

She let out a shaky breath.

" He's okay. He's safe. Right now, he's dafe."

"No reason," she replied softly. "Just wanted to hear your voice... and yes, I miss you. My strong hero."

There was a pause. Then-

"I miss you too, my little princess. You sure you're okay? What about Elira?"

"We're fine," Elira chimed in, her voice quiet. "It just feels... a little empty without you here."

The words were light. The fear underneath them was not.

Nyra said nothing, standing by the window with her arms crossed tight and her eyes locked on the rain like it might attack.

None of them spoke it aloud.

But they all felt it: something was coming. And it wasn't just a storm.

"I love you, Dad," Selen whispered.

"Love you too, my princesses," Mr. Lee whispered back, and the call faded with the sound of soft jazz and a clinking teacup.

Click.

The line went dead. Warmth lingered in the silence. Then-

Snap.

Selen tossed the letter back onto the table, jaw clenched.

"See? He's fine. This is bullshit. I'm not going to any ceremony. Let them play games with someone else."

She stood, fury rising like heat from a cracked surface, and stormed toward her room. Elira and Nyra stayed behind, exchanging a look that said everything.

Elira picked up the letter carefully, brow furrowed. "Why... would someone even play like this?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

The only answer was the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

---

At Kim Enterprise - Pre-Ceremony

Sunlight slanted through the towering windows on the 45th floor, casting long streaks of gold across black marble. Shadows crept from the east, dressing the room in power and silence.

Staff moved like soldiers. Walkie-talkies clicked. Orders snapped. Perfection was expected-no detail missed.

On the mezzanine balcony, Taehyung stood motionless, glass of deep red wine in hand, watching it all unfold below.

Beside him, Wunwoo leaned against the rail, eyeing the rising crystal chandeliers.

"You've outdone yourself this time," Wunwoo muttered, a grin tugging his lip.

Taehyung didn't look at him. "I'm not decorating," he said coldly. "I'm staging a war."

Footsteps echoed behind them.

Jimin approached, all sharp suit and sharper tone. "Boss, everything's ready. You can head out-we've got this."

Taehyung's gaze didn't shift.

"No. I want everything flawless. Every camera. Every angle. No shadows but mine."

A smirk ghosted his lips.

"A special guest is coming."

Wunwoo raised a brow. "You sure she'll show?"

Taehyung's smile deepened-dark, sure, dangerous.

"She will."

Below them, the ballroom took shape like a throne forged in silk and steel.

Black velvet roses and deep red peonies curled around a sweeping archway. A marble sculpture of a chessboard-mid-battle-stood in the center of the room like a warning.

Overhead, lasers tested light patterns across the ceiling, while gold-foiled banners unfurled across the walls:

"Legacy is not given. It is taken."

A symphony of quiet chaos moved through the lower floors-chefs shouting, metal clanging, waiters rehearsing. But here, at the top?

Taehyung stood still.

Waiting.

---

Selen's Room - Two Hour Later

The storm hadn't eased.

If anything, it had learned her name.

Selen sat on her bed, scrolling mindlessly-until a news alert exploded across the screen:

[Local café owner in critical condition after hit-and-run. Victim found bleeding near his shop.]

The world tilted.

Her chest seized. Her breath caught.

She read it again.

And again.

Then-her phone slipped from her fingers. The sound of it hitting the floor felt louder than thunder. A box toppled beside it.

" No. Not him. Not my dad."

She shot to her feet, her whole body trembling.

Stormed into the living room.

"Dad... someone hit him," she whispered, voice cracking. "Outside the café. He's in the hospital."

Elira's face drained of color. Nyra's cereal fell from her hand.

Then-

Ding-dong.

Again.

The hallway. The door. The fear. They moved as one, breath held.

Elira opened it.

Another black envelope.

No one outside. Just the rain whispering its approval.

Selen's fingers tore the seal open with shaking hands.

Inside: a single message, scrawled in cold, heartless ink.

"Didn't believe me ?. Maybe now you will. You've got 12 hours.

Show up .

Alone.

Or next time, he won't be breathing."

The world spun.

Selen's knees nearly gave out.

"They hurt him..." she whispered. "Just to control me."

Tears blurred her eyes-but her voice sharpened like a blade.

"Who the hell do they think I am?"

"Check the CCTVs," Nyra urged.

"I did," Selen breathed. "They were disabled. For two hours."

She looked down at the letter again. Her hands were steady now.

"They want me at that ceremony?" she said. "Fine. I'll go."

"You're not going alone," Elira said, stepping forward.

"Screw that," Nyra added. "We go together."

But Selen shook her head slowly.

"No. You go to the hospital. Dad needs you."

Elira's voice trembled. "And you?"

Selen's jaw tightened. Her eyes lit like fire in a storm.

"I'm going to look my monster in the eye. And when I do?

He'll learn what it means to hurt someone I love."

She held the letter tighter.

Her rage was no longer heat.

It was ice.

"He wants a pawn?

He'll get a queen."

Outside, the storm howled like it knew.