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"Then, by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest's voice echoed through the chapel, a strange numbness settled over you.

The stained glass windows bathed the aisle in coloured light, painting shades of gold and crimson across the marble floor. Everything looked beautiful almost dreamlike. If only you felt the same.

"And now," the priest said with a smile, "you may kiss the bride."

A nervous flutter stirred in your stomach , the chapel fell silent. You slowly turned towards Jeon Jungkook. Up close, he was even more intimidating than the newspapers made him seem. Tall , Broad-shouldered , Dressed impeccably in black. There was something unsettling about how composed he remained while your own heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. Not once throughout the ceremony had his expression changed , not when you exchanged vows , not when the rings were placed upon your fingers.

He stepped forward, you became painfully aware of every pair of eyes watching. Your parents , Margaret , Cecilia , The priest. The staff standing quietly at the back of the chapel. Jungkook's gaze lingered on your face, as though searching for something.

His hand lifted, resting lightly against your cheek. Then he leaned in his lip touches yours, Merely a formality carried out before witnesses. The sort of kiss exchanged by two strangers fulfilling an obligation rather than a promise. When he pulled away, the chapel erupted into polite applause.

Your attention remained fixed on the man standing before you. The man society whispered about. The man accused of murdering his first wife.

Six months ago, if someone had told you that you would become Jungkook's third wife, you would have laughed in their face. You had other plans, your world revolved around architecture. Endless sketches covered your desk, half-finished models occupied every spare corner of your room, and your greatest concern was whether your final project would impress your professors.

Marriage was nowhere on the list. Certainly not marriage to a man eleven years older than you. Yet one evening, your father sat you down and informed you that your future had already been decided. You were to marry Jeon Jungkook , you remembered staring at him in disbelief.

Everyone knew who Jungkook was. One of the most influential businessmen in the country. Owner of countless companies, estates, and investments. A man whose name appeared in newspapers almost weekly. A man who already had two wives and according to society, a dead one.

You refused at first you argued , pleaded , cried. None of it mattered. The agreement had already been made. In the end, you were left with no choice but to accept. That was how you found yourself standing in a chapel, exchanging vows with a man you barely knew.

His first wife, Margaret, was another matter entirely. Margaret Jeon was elegance personified. At thirty-five, she carried herself with a grace that made everyone around her feel slightly inadequate. Kind-hearted, patient, and endlessly composed, she possessed none of the bitterness one might expect from a woman sharing her husband with others.

Jungkook had married Margaret years ago not for love. Margaret's mother had been his own mother's closest friend. When she fell gravely ill, she had only one final wish , that her daughter would never be left alone in the world. Jungkook had honoured that wish and from what little you had observed, Margaret had never once regretted becoming Mrs. Jeon.

His second wife Cecilia was entirely different. Beautiful in the way storms were beautiful. At thirty, Cecilia possessed a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. Unlike Margaret, she made no effort to hide her displeasure regarding your presence.

Jungkook's marriage to Cecilia had been born from another arrangement. Her father, a powerful businessman whose health had rapidly deteriorated, had made a rather extraordinary declaration. Whichever man married his daughter would inherit everything. His companies ,estates , investments, fortune an empire worth billions. Many men had sought Cecilia's hand for precisely that reason. Jungkook had simply been the one chosen. Whether Cecilia had ever wanted the marriage was another question entirely.

And now there was you. The third wife the unwanted addition to an already complicated household.

The journey to the Jeon estate passed in near silence. You spent most of it staring out of the carriage window, watching the countryside blur past while a single thought repeated itself in your mind.

By the time the iron gates appeared, dusk had already begun to settle. Your breath caught the estate was enormous , not a house , not even a mansion. An estate.

Stone walls climbed towards the evening sky, ivy curling around ancient pillars. Tall windows reflected the fading sunlight, while perfectly trimmed gardens stretched farther than the eye could see. It looked less like a home and more like something from a novel.

The moment you stepped inside, that feeling only intensified. The entrance hall was magnificent. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead. Marble floors gleamed beneath your feet. Portraits lined the walls. You found yourself glancing around uneasily.

"Welcome home." Margaret's gentle voice broke the silence. Before you could respond, you felt another gaze. Cecilia , she stood a few steps away, arms folded across her chest. The look she gave you could have frozen a river. You quickly looked away. Jungkook removed his gloves before turning towards Margaret.

"Would you show her to her room?"

"Of course." Margaret smiled warmly. Then, as though struck by a thought, she added .

"Although, darling, shouldn't she be staying in your room tonight?"

You nearly choked. Jungkook's expression didn't change, but his eyes lifted towards Margaret. A warning glance. Margaret immediately looked amused.

A laugh escaped Cecilia "How considerate of you, Margaret."

Margaret sighed "Cecilia."

"No, please continue," Cecilia said sweetly. "You've always been so invested in Jungkook's marriages." The sweetness in her voice somehow made the remark worse.

Margaret rolled her eyes "You make everything sound scandalous."

"Only because everything here usually is."

You suddenly felt as though you had walked into the middle of a conversation that had been ongoing for years. One filled with private jokes and old grievances. Jungkook looked entirely unimpressed.

"Enough." The single word was calm. Yet both women immediately fell silent. An impressive achievement, considering Cecilia looked capable of arguing with a brick wall.

His gaze shifted towards you. For the first time since arriving, he seemed to notice how uncomfortable you were.

"You needn't worry." His voice was even. "There will be no expectations placed upon you tonight."

You wished the marble floor would swallow you whole. Across the room, Cecilia muttered something beneath her breath. Margaret elbowed her.

"What?" Cecilia complained.

"You are behaving terribly."

"I'm being honest."

"You're being insufferable."

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. You almost felt sorry for him.

"Margaret," he said, clearly choosing patience over murder, "please show her the room."

Margaret immediately brightened "Come along, dear." As you followed her towards the grand staircase, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Margaret's room was on the east wing. Yours, apparently, was not far from it. As the two of you walked through endless corridors, she pointed out various parts of the estate along the way.

"The library is downstairs." You nodded. "The conservatory is at the back." Another nod. "And if you ever get lost,which you absolutely will, just find a servant. I've lived here for years and still take wrong turns." A surprised laugh escaped you.

Margaret smiled, looking rather pleased with herself. The room she eventually led you to was beautiful. Far larger than your bedroom back home. Tall windows overlooked the gardens. A fireplace occupied one wall. Fresh flowers rested on a small table near the bed.

"It's lovely," you admitted quietly.

"I'm glad you think so." Margaret moved towards the wardrobe. "Would you like some help with those dreadful wedding layers?"

You laughed softly "Please."

Within minutes, she was helping you unfasten buttons and remove various pieces of your wedding attire. The atmosphere remained surprisingly comfortable. Not once did Margaret make you feel embarrassed. In fact, she seemed determined to avoid awkwardness altogether.

"So," she began casually, folding a piece of fabric, "architecture."

You glanced up "What about it?"

"I heard you're studying it."

A smile appeared before you could stop it "I am."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"I love it." The answer came instantly. Margaret noticed of course she did.

For the next several minutes, she asked question after question. What buildings inspired you? What was your favourite project? How long had you wanted to become an architect? The conversation flowed so naturally that you almost forgot where you were. Almost forgot that only a few hours ago you had married her husband. Margaret listened attentively to every answer. By the time you finished changing into a comfortable nightdress, some of the tension had finally left your shoulders.

Margaret seemed to notice "Better?"

"A little."

"Good." The older woman smiled. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt strangely peaceful. Then Margaret stepped closer. Before you could react, she gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture reminded you painfully of your mother. Something softened in her expression.

"You've had quite a day. That's one way to put it."

A small laugh escaped her. Then, unexpectedly, Margaret leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture was entirely maternal. When she pulled back, her eyes were kind.

"So listen to me carefully. This house can be overwhelming at first." Her gaze drifted briefly towards the door. "And the people inside it can be even more overwhelming."

That earned a reluctant smile from you. Margaret smiled back. Then she took your hands in hers.

"This is your home now, alright?"

The words caught you off guard. Nobody had said them since you arrived nobody except her.

"If you ever need anything, come to me."

Your throat tightened unexpectedly "Anything?"

"Anything." There was no hesitation in her answer.

Margaret left your room only after making certain you had everything you needed. The corridors were quiet as she made her way towards Jungkook's . She wasn't surprised to find him there. He stood beside an open window, a cigarette between his fingers. The night air drifted through the room, carrying away the smoke.

"You really should stop doing that."

Jungkook glanced over his shoulder "Good evening to you too, Margaret."

Margaret rolled her eyes before walking over and taking the cigarette from his hand "You know the doctors keep saying the same thing."

"And yet here I am."

"Unfortunately." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Margaret moved closer, straightening the collar of his shirt before wrapping her arms around him from behind. It was an old habit. Neither thought much of it anymore.

"New bride is frightened."

Jungkook's expression softened slightly "I know."

"She's twenty-four, Jungkook."

His gaze remained fixed on the darkness beyond the window "I know."

Margaret rested her chin against his shoulder. "Please don't let anything happen to her. She wants to study. Let her finish."

Jungkook sighed "Margaret."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She frowned. He finally turned towards her. The door suddenly swung open. Cecilia entered carrying a bottle of wine. She stopped her eyes immediately landed on Margaret standing close to Jungkook. A flicker of irritation crossed her face.

"There you are." Without waiting for an invitation, she crossed the room and placed herself directly between them. Margaret sighed.

"Cecilia."

"What?"

"You've interrupted a conversation."

"You were hugging my husband."

"Our husband."

Cecilia ignored her. Jungkook looked exhausted already. Margaret immediately reached for the bottle "No."

Cecilia pulled it away . "Margaret."

The two women stared at one another. Jungkook looked as though he'd rather attend another board meeting. Margaret pointed towards the door.

"You should go and speak to her."

"Who?"

"The new bride."

Cecilia laughed "I would rather not."

"She's new here."

"Not my problem."

"She's alone."

Cecilia uncorked the bottle "Still not my problem." Margaret folded her arms "At least make an effort to know her." That earned a sharp look. Margaret opened her mouth. Cecilia continued before she could speak.

"Leave it alone. He doesn't love her."

The room went silent. For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then Margaret tilted her head.

"Neither does he love you." The words landed with remarkable precision. Jungkook closed his eyes. Cecilia stared at Margaret in disbelief.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. "Must the two of you do this every evening?"

The following morning, you woke earlier than expected. For several moments, you simply lay there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. There was little point attempting to fall back asleep. After getting dressed, you slipped from your room and wandered through the corridors. The house was surprisingly peaceful at this hour.

Eventually, a warm scent drifted through the air. Fresh bread , Tea, something sweet. Curious, you followed it. The scent led you towards the kitchens. You paused at the doorway.

Margaret stood at the centre of the room, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A servant was helping prepare ingredients nearby, but Margaret herself was occupied with a mixing bowl. She looked remarkably at home. As though she belonged there more than anywhere else. You couldn't help smiling.

"Good morning."

Margaret looked up immediately. A smile spread across her face "Good morning, darling."

You stepped inside "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Most people don't." She wiped her hands on a cloth. "Welcome to my kitchen."

You glanced around the enormous room. At least half a dozen servants were already moving about.

"My kitchen?"

Margaret looked thoroughly pleased with herself "Yes." You laughed softly "You're cooking?" She nodded.

"But there are so many servants."

"I know."

"Then why are you doing it yourself?"

Margaret looked genuinely confused by the question "Because I enjoy it."

"As simple as that?"

"As simple as that."

She stirred something before continuing "The servants are wonderful, but I've always loved cooking." A fond smile appeared on her face. "And besides, I only cook for everyone."

Margaret poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup. Without warning, she held it out towards you. You blinked. She blinked back.

"...What's this?"

"Tea."

"I can see that."

"Excellent."

You narrowed your eyes. Margaret looked innocent. A dangerous sign.

"Margaret."

"Take it upstairs."

Your stomach sank "To whom?"

"Jungkook."

You stared at her. She smiled. You continued staring. Her smile widened.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, come now." You lowered your voice. "I barely know him and it's awkward."

Margaret laughed "You're married."

"That doesn't make it less awkward. If anything, it makes it more awkward."

The older woman considered that "Fair point." You looked victorious. For approximately three seconds. Then Margaret placed the cup directly into your hands. The warm porcelain nearly made you drop it.

Balancing the cup of tea carefully, you followed Margaret's directions through what felt like an endless maze of corridors. The estate was far too large for any reasonable person. Eventually, you found the door.

You hesitated then knocked. You knocked again. Still nothing. After a moment's consideration, you carefully pushed the door open. The room beyond was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the estate. A large bookshelf occupied one wall. Papers were neatly arranged across a desk near the window. Everything was orderly.

Your gaze drifted towards the bed and froze. He was asleep. You hadn't expected that. For a man who always seemed perfectly composed, there was something strangely human about seeing him asleep. The sharp edges of his expression had softened. You quietly crossed the room and placed the tea on the bedside table.

"Mr Jeon?"

No response. You tried again.

"Jungkook?"

Margaret had sent you all this way. You couldn't exactly return downstairs carrying the tea. But taking a breath, you stepped closer.

"Jungkook."

Just as you reached out to lightly touch his shoulder, your foot caught against the edge of the rug.

"Oh—" Your balance vanished instantly. Before you could stop yourself, you stumbled forward. A startled sound escaped you. The next thing you knew, you had landed against the mattress. Far closer to Jungkook than was remotely appropriate. His eyes opened immediately. Dark eyes meeting yours from only inches away. For a brief, mortifying second, neither of you moved. The world seemed to stop. You could hear your own heartbeat. Feel the warmth radiating from him. Feel the embarrassment rapidly taking years off your life.

Jungkook blinked once then twice. Clearly trying to understand why his newest wife was suddenly hovering above him at seven in the morning. Heat flooded your face. You scrambled backwards so quickly you nearly fell a second time.

"I—" Wonderful start "I brought tea." Excellent recovery. Your face burned. The corner of Jungkook's mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"The tea attacked you?" You stared. He stared back. For the first time, you realised he was teasing you. Very subtly , Very rarely. But definitely teasing.

"It was the rug."

"Of course. The rug is dangerous. I'll inform the staff immediately."

You narrowed your eyes. Jungkook sat up, looking far too amused for a man who had just been awakened in such a ridiculous manner. Your gaze immediately darted towards the cup.

"The tea will get cold." he reached for the cup. "Thank you."

You awkwardly folded your hands behind your back. "Margaret made it."

"I know." Of course he knew. Something about that answer felt unexpectedly familiar.

You took a step towards the door then another.

"I should go."

Jungkook nodded.Yet as your hand reached the handle, his voice stopped you.

"Good morning." You glanced over your shoulder. He was holding the cup of tea, looking considerably more awake now.

"Good morning, Mrs Jeon."

An hour later the dining room was already prepared. The table seemed to stretch endlessly beneath a glittering chandelier. Silver cutlery gleamed beneath the morning light, while servants moved quietly around the room, placing dishes in their proper places.

Margaret was already seated. She smiled the moment she saw you. You took the seat beside her. A few moments later, Cecilia entered. Elegant as always not that she looked pleased to be there. Her eyes swept across the table before settling on Jungkook. Without hesitation, she pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.

"Good morning, Cecilia," you said politely. Cecilia looked up from pouring herself coffee. For a second, you wondered if she would ignore you entirely. Then she gave a short nod.

"Morning."

A servant began serving breakfast. For a while, the table remained quiet. Until Cecilia decided silence was unacceptable.

"Jungkook."

"Hm?"

"You're leaving for the office today?"

"After lunch."

Cecilia immediately brightened . To your surprise, Cecilia reached over and adjusted his tie. The action seemed completely natural. The sort of thing someone did after years of familiarity. Jungkook didn't even react clearly this was normal. You focused very hard on your breakfast.

Margaret, however, looked entertained. "You do realise he's capable of adjusting his own tie."

Cecilia didn't even glance at her. "He's capable of many things. That doesn't mean he'll do them properly."

Jungkook sighed "I am sitting right here."

Margaret nearly choked on her tea. You hid a smile. Cecilia noticed Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Something amusing?"

"No."

"You're smiling."

"I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

Margaret laughed outright. Jungkook folded his newspaper.

"You've frightened her."

"She's still here, isn't she?"

You decided that was probably the closest thing to affection Cecilia was capable of expressing. Margaret leaned towards you slightly.

"That's Cecilia being friendly."

You blinked "Friendly?"

"Terrifying, isn't it?"

Breakfast eventually came to an end. The household seemed to move with practiced efficiency the moment Jungkook prepared to leave. You found yourself unsure whether you were expected to do anything at all.

Margaret, apparently, knew exactly what was expected. She approached Jungkook carrying his watch. "You forgot this."

Margaret looked entirely pleased with herself as she fastened the watch around his wrist. Cecilia appeared moments later. She stepped forward, adjusted his collar, and pressed a quick peck on his lip .

"Don't work too late."

"I'll try."

"You always say that."

"And yet you keep asking."

Cecilia huffed dramatically. You remained where you were. A few steps away. After all, what exactly were you supposed to do? You had known the man for barely a day.

Jungkook's gaze drifted across the hall. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours. Then they shifted towards Margaret. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them. Before you could think about it further, he turned towards the door. The massive front doors closed behind him.

Margaret immediately clapped her hands together. "Come along, darling." She linked her arm through yours before you could protest. "I shall show you the estate. Trust me, you'll need a tour."

Cecilia snorted. "She'll get lost within an hour."

Margaret shot her a look. "Cecilia."

"What?"

"Be nice."

Cecilia folded her arms. Then her gaze landed on you. You weren't entirely sure how a single person could communicate so much judgement without speaking. It was almost impressive. You found yourself pouting slightly.

Margaret looked at you. Then looked at Cecilia. Then back at you. The tiny pout on your face was so unexpectedly sulky that her heart nearly melted.

Margaret immediately reached over and patted your cheek. "There, there."

You looked scandalised "I am not upset."

"Of course not." Margaret smiled sweetly. Across the hall, Cecilia stared at the interaction. Then, for reasons known only to herself, looked even more annoyed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake."

With that, she turned sharply and marched away. The sound of her heels echoed through the corridor. You watched her disappear.

"Does she always do that?" Margaret considered the question. "Every day"

Then she tucked your arm through hers once more. "Come along."

"Where first?" A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes. "The library." Your face immediately brightened. Margaret smiled.

For the next hour, Margaret guided you through what felt like half the estate. The west wing , the library , the conservatory. A music room nobody seemed to use anymore. Several drawing rooms you were fairly certain all looked identical. By the end of it, your feet hurt. Margaret looked perfectly fine. You suspected she possessed supernatural abilities.

"You'll get used to it eventually," she said.

"To walking five miles just to find breakfast?"

Margaret laughed "Precisely."

The two of you turned another corner before she suddenly stopped. A door stood at the end of the corridor. Unlike the others, it was locked. The brass handle gleamed untouched. Something about it felt different. You glanced at Margaret.

"What's in there?"

For the first time all morning, her smile faded. "That was Eleanor's room."

Your heart skipped. Eleanor The name seemed to linger in the air. You hesitated then curiosity got the better of you.

"I've heard about her. What was she like?"

A strange expression crossed Margaret's face. A little later, the two of you found yourselves seated on a garden bench overlooking the rose gardens. The morning breeze carried the scent of flowers through the air. For several moments, Margaret simply stared ahead. Then she spoke.

"Eleanor was beautiful. The sort of beautiful people write poems about." A faint smile touched her lips.

"When she entered a room, everyone noticed. She was kind too," Margaret continued. "Very kind." The smile on her face became genuine. "Most people assumed she'd hate me."

You frowned "Why?"

"Because I was another wife."

"Oh."

Margaret shrugged "Instead, she became my friend."

You blinked "A close friend?"

"My best friend."

The answer came without hesitation. A small ache settled in your chest. Margaret looked down at her hands.

"Eleanor never treated me like a rival. Nor Cecilia. Oh, Cecilia was impossible back then. She argued with everyone. I find that very difficult to believe."

Margaret gave you a look. You both burst out laughing. When the laughter faded, Margaret continued.

"Eleanor always knew how to handle her. She knew how to handle all of us."

You looked towards the estate. Towards the countless windows.

"You loved her."

Margaret's eyes grew suspiciously bright "Very much." Margaret's gaze drifted towards the gardens. Towards nothing at all.

"She loved Jungkook. So much that it was almost frightening."

Then Margaret's expression darkened. "The day she died..." Her voice trailed off.

You felt your stomach tighten "Margaret?"

She exhaled slowly "One day she was here and the next...We found her dead."

The words landed heavily between you. You didn't know what to say. What could anyone say? Margaret stared ahead. Lost somewhere in the past.

"I remember thinking the house had become too quiet and somehow it never stopped being quiet after that."

That evening, the estate felt quieter than usual. Jungkook had returned one look at him told you the day had been difficult. His tie had been loosened, his hair slightly dishevelled, and there was a weariness in his eyes that even his usual composure couldn't hide.

Margaret immediately stood "Long day?"

"The longest." His answer earned a sympathetic smile. Before either of you could say anything else, Cecilia appeared. As though she had been waiting.

"There you are."

Jungkook glanced at her. Cecilia took his coat from his shoulders before any servant could. Her arms travel on his chest she push her body closer to him , she took his hand place on her lower waist .

"Come upstairs."

"Cecilia—"

"No arguments." She put her index finger tip on his lip looking directly in his eyes in a seductive way .

Jungkook seemed too exhausted to argue. With a quiet sigh, he allowed Cecilia to lead him towards the staircase. The two disappeared upstairs.

Margaret lowered her gaze. For a brief moment, her expression looked unbearably sad. As though she were trying very hard not to feel something. Your heart squeezed. Without thinking, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around her. Margaret froze. Then slowly relaxed into the hug.

"Oh, darling." Her voice was soft. You rested your chin on her shoulder.

"Come to my room. We'll watch a film."

"A film?"

"Yes."

Margaret smiled despite herself "I believe that's your solution to everything."

"It usually works."

The older woman shook her head affectionately. "You are ridiculous."

"Maybe."

"But very sweet."

The film had been Margaret's choice. It was some impossibly romantic story involving stolen glances, handwritten letters, and a handsome gentleman who spent half the film staring longingly at the heroine.

You had spent most of the time making sarcastic remarks. Margaret had spent most of the time telling you to be quiet. By the end of it, neither of you were paying much attention to the screen. The two of you sat cross-legged on the bed, sharing biscuits and tea.

Margaret glanced at you "So. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

You nearly choked on your tea. Margaret looked delighted. "Oh, there was someone."

You groaned "A very long time ago. I was practically a child."

"You still are."

You stared at her "Margaret. "I'm twenty-four."

"Exactly." She smiled sweetly "So what happened?"

You rolled your eyes "He moved away."

"Tragic."

"It wasn't tragic."

"Heartbreaking?."

"It really wasn't."

Margaret laughed. The sound filled the room. For a moment, you simply watched her. It struck you how easy it was to speak with her. As though you had known her far longer than a day. Margaret studied your face.

The following morning was unusually peaceful. You were curled up on one end of the drawing-room sofa, a book resting in your lap. Margaret sat nearby, carefully slicing fruit for breakfast. The estate was quiet. Then Cecilia entered. One glance at her face told you she was in an exceptionally good mood.

Which, somehow, was far more concerning. Margaret didn't even look up.

"Good morning, Cecilia."

"Good morning."

You lowered your book "Morning."

Cecilia sat down and helped herself to a strawberry. A smile lingered on her lips.

"Honestly husband didn’t let me sleep last night , he was so much in mood "

Margaret's knife paused briefly. You shifted uncomfortably.

"Cecilia." You snap "Maybe we don't need to discuss this."

The room went quiet. Cecilia slowly turned towards you. Her smile vanished.

"What did you say?"

You immediately realised your mistake "I just meant—"

"No."

She look so offended "What exactly did you mean?"

Margaret looked up "Cecilia."

But Cecilia wasn't listening anymore.

"You've been here for what? A few days? And suddenly you're telling me what I can and cannot talk about? You really are ill mannered."

You swallowed "I wasn't trying to—"

"OF COURSE YOU WERE." The words came sharper now. "You walk into this house and immediately start acting as though you belong here."

Margaret stood "Enough."

"No." Cecilia's voice cracked through the room. "No, I'm tired of pretending. You know what your problem is?"

You blinked rapidly "Cecilia..."

"You think being young makes you special." The words struck harder than they should have. "You're not the first wife. You're not even the second."

Margaret looked horrified "Cecilia!"

"But somebody should tell her."

The older woman stepped forward "Cecilia, stop." Yet Cecilia continued. As though every insecurity you'd carried into this marriage had suddenly been given a voice.

By the end of it, your vision had blurred. You hated that. Hated that tears had appeared at all. You looked away quickly. Margaret saw. Her expression immediately softened.

"Oh, darling..." At that exact moment, footsteps echoed through the hall. Everyone turned. It's Jungkook he stopped the moment he entered the room. His gaze moved from Margaret... to Cecilia...and finally to you. Your eyes were red and suddenly, every single person in it looked guilty.

Cecilia moved first as she always did. She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around Jungkook. " Honey ." To your astonishment, her eyes were suddenly shining with tears.

"She disrespected me."

You stared. Margaret stared. Even Jungkook looked mildly unconvinced. Cecilia buried her face against his shoulder. "I was only talking and she told me to stop."

Margaret looked as though she wanted to throw a fruit bowl. Instead, she walked over to you. "Look at me."

You tried looking away. Margaret gently cupped your face. She wiped away a tear that had escaped despite your best efforts. Across the room, Cecilia continued her performance.

Slowly, his gaze shifted towards you. Your eyes were still red. Your book still lay abandoned on the sofa. For several seconds, he simply studied you. Then he stepped away from Cecilia. Jungkook stopped in front of you.

"Look at me." Reluctantly, you did "Did you disrespect her first?"

You shook your head "No."

His expression didn't change "Did you insult her?"

"No."

"Raise your voice?"

Another shake of your head "No."

Jungkook nodded once. Then his gaze moved towards Cecilia. A terrible sign Cecilia immediately straightened.

"What?"

"Did she?" The room became very interested in the answer. Cecilia opened her mouth. Margaret folded her arms. Finally, Cecilia huffed.

"No."

Jungkook sighed quietly "Cecilia."

"What?"

"Apologise."

Cecilia looked genuinely offended.

"To her?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"Cecilia."

She stared at him. Then at you. Then at Margaret.

"I'm...sorry."

The evening settled over the estate in uneasy stillness. You sat curled on the sofa with a newspaper. At first, you only skimmed it. Then your eyes caught the headline.

JEON HOUSEHOLD SHROUDED IN MYSTERY: FOURTH MARRIAGE, DEAD FIRST WIFE, AND WHISPERS OF CRIME

Your stomach tightened. The article went on and on exaggerations, rumours dressed up as facts, cruel speculation about Jungkook, about Eleanor, about you. You turned another page.

A sharp voice cut through the room.

“Don’t read that.”

You flinched. Jungkook stood near the doorway, tie loosened, expression unreadable but his tone wasn’t. “Don’t read that bullshit.”

Your fingers tightened around the paper. A question had been sitting inside you since the morning, growing heavier with every whispered rumour, every locked rooms . You lifted your gaze.

“…Did you really kill Eleanor?”

The air changed. Jungkook’s expression shifted not slowly, not subtly. It hardened his eyes darkened in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“What did you just say?”

Your throat tightened you stood up.

“I just—people say—” You didn’t get to finish.

In a single stride, he crossed the distance between you. The newspaper slipped from your hands. Your back hit the wall before you fully registered what was happening. Jungkook’s hand came up fast but it wasn’t around your throat. It was against the wall beside your head. The impact made your breath stutter. His other hand caught your cheek , not gently, but firmly enough to make you still.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, voice low and shaking with something dangerous, “take her name again.”

Your chest rose sharply. Fear spread through you before you could stop it “I didn’t mean—”

“Do you hear me?” His grip tightened slightly, not hurting you but close enough that your mind couldn’t tell the difference.

“Never. Say that. Again.”

Your eyes burned. You nodded quickly, breath uneven “Okay… okay…”

From the side of the room “JUNGKOOK.” Margaret’s voice. She had entered without you noticing. Her eyes moved from him… to you… to his hand still near your face.

“Let her go.”

Jungkook didn’t move at first. Then, slowly, he stepped back. Like something inside him had snapped loose. You slid down the wall slightly, shaking. Margaret was there in an instant. She pulled you into her chest.

“It’s alright,” she murmured softly, stroking your hair. “You’re alright.”

You clung to her without thinking. Across the room, Jungkook stood very still. His breathing changed. His hand pressed against the edge of the table. His jaw tightened. Margaret noticed immediately.

“Jungkook…”

But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was staring at you. Or maybe through you. His breath became uneven like he couldn’t catch it properly.

“No…” he muttered under his breath. Margaret’s grip on you tightened. “Y/N, don’t move.”

Jungkook took one step back. His hand went to his chest. He looked… lost. For the first time since you’d known him he panicked and then his breathing broke completely and then he fell. Hard. The sound of it snapped through the room.

“Jungkook!” Both you and Margaret moved at once. You reached him first, dropping to your knees beside him, your hands shaking as you tried to steady his shoulder.

“Hey hey, look at me,” you said quickly, though your voice trembled. “Breathe… just breathe.”

His eyes were unfocused, chest rising unevenly. Margaret was already there, grabbing a glass of water from the side table and splashing a little on her palm before pressing it gently near his face.

“Easy,” she murmured. “You’re okay. Just breathe.” Slowly, his breathing began to settle. The sharp panic in his eyes dulled still there, but no longer consuming him.

Only when his grip loosened did you realise how tightly you’d been holding him. Jungkook pushed himself upright, though unsteadily. The silence that followed was heavier than before. Then his gaze snapped to you. Something in him hardened again.

“Don’t ever mention her name like that again,” he said, voice low and rough. “Do you understand me?”

You flinched slightly. He continued before you could answer.

“If you do… you’ll see something you won’t like.” The words landed like ice. “Go to your room.”

Your throat tightened. You didn’t argue. You stood slowly, eyes lowered “…Okay.” And then you left.

Margaret stayed behind. Jungkook was still sitting on the floor, one hand pressed to his forehead, trying to steady himself.

“You scared her,” Margaret said softly. His jaw tightened. “She crossed a line.”

Margaret didn’t look away “Truth is always bitter.”