#illegal shit

And in your small world that you had no say over, you stuck to the one thing you could control - your studies. Anything other than that got you ratted out by the house help, and you till date had faint lacerations from the whipping as a souvenir.

It wasn’t long before the dreaded day came. You’d just finished your schooling online, without the joy of a graduation ceremony, and hit the age of 20, an adult in Korea, and therefore capable of marrying. Your parents wasted no time in helping you make your social debut, and begin matchmaking.

Sparkly balls, boring dinners, sleazy older men hitting on you behind their wives’ backs, the gossip mills and playing dress up was getting rather old, when your father came home to announce that he’d found you a match. You zipped your mouth shut, smiled politely and said okay.

______

You came face to face with your future in-laws at a lavish dinner your father had organised in an exclusive hotel. The whole floor had been booked out, and the chef was flown in from Japan to cater to a small group.

So the Kims had placed the winning bid… which of their sons will it be?

Mr. Kim was a tall, broadly built burly man, and his wife had sharp, elegant facial features that had actually aged gracefully, unlike your mother’s. But their sons were nowhere to be seen. You were flanked by your own parents at their slicked up best.

Your mother had dragged you off to a spa for a whole two-day glow-up to get you ready. Primped and polished, you felt completely unlike yourself in front of them. Both Mr. and Mrs. Kim had studied you, for a movement, and continued on to chatting with your parents on a variety of topics - from business to gossip, to politics, and everything behind the scene.

“.... must be ready and excited?”

You had tuned out their chatter and focused on your plate, so you hadn’t registered the question directed at you.

You took a moment to shake yourself back to attention, and looked up to meet Mr. Kim’s eyes.

“Well, there’s a whole future to look forward to”, you said with a slight smile.

“And is there something you want in that future?”

Mrs. Kim’s question startled you, as someone in your position rarely even got asked for their choice in these matters. You cleared your throat.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, I would love to attend and graduate from University”

There. You’d finally said it.

“Please don’t worry about that… I’m sure she’ll be just fine studying online… there’s no need to.. She’s such a wilful child…”

By the way your mother’s talons were digging into your thigh as she spluttered and tried to cover what you said, and your father’s nervous laughter, and the glances Mr. and Mrs. Kim had exchanged, you were sure your words had surprised everyone.

But Mr. Kim’s gaze as he looked back at you was surprisingly warm. “And what would you like to study, child?” he asked.

“I’ve always had an interest in engineering, sir.” Your interest in a technical field seemed to intrigue him further. Not business, or law, or the arts, but engineering?

Mrs Kim seemed to have read her husband’s mood, when her gaze became warm as well. “Don’t you worry my dear, as soon as you marry into our family, we’ll ensure you can study all you want.”

“You’re lucky to have a diligent, serious and studious child”, Mr. Kim complimented your father.

“Er… thank you! It’s one of her finest traits”, your father laughed awkwardly patting your head.

“I’m sure Y/N will be a lovely bride for our Tae”.

Your mother’s eyes widened at that. They weren’t expecting this.

Mr. and Mrs Kim had three children. Not all three biologically were Mrs. Kim’s sons since she was Mr Kim’s second wife. They were products of his earlier marriage and subsequent mistresses. Mrs Kim’s iron fist after her marriage into the family, had taken all three boys under her wing and diligently straightened out Mr. Kim’s household. The gossip mills therefore held her in high regard.

Kim Seokjin was his eldest, a prominent member of the entertainment industry with his musical and acting career, eventually moving to management, dabbling in a vast range of businesses in Seoul’s nightlife, some of the hottest destinations aside from Itaewon.

His second son, Kim Namjoon was the one your father had had his hopes on. A veritable prodigy who had studied law and business, he had the widest reach, handling many of his father’s interests with ease, and even legitimizing many sections. Publicly, he had successfully whitewashed his mafia background to emerge a charismatic figure who many expected to move into politics some day. Your father had figured a studious girl like you would make a suitable wife for a future politician.

You yourself were surprised as to why Mr. Kim picked his third son, Kim Taehyung as your would-be. There were no clear words to describe Kim Taehyung. Whimsical? Unpredictable? Mischievous?

Taehyung couldn’t be more different from his brothers if he tried. A veritable rake with a mind so mischievous it gave everyone jitters, it was a miracle he didn’t have a police record for something more serious than covering police cars with toilet paper. An inveterate gambler always on the quest for his next little amusement, there wasn’t a thing Kim Taehyung hadn’t experimented with. The words stability and commitment did not exist in his dictionary. The prospect of placing a section of the Family business under him was thought preposterous, as he was considered just as likely to donate said businesses to some animal charity and hie off to Antarctica.

You and Taehyung were worlds apart. If he was a butterfly, you were a freshwater fish.

“Let’s hope your good example will rub off on our Tae.” Mr. Kim patted your shoulder warmly, and your parents nodded in dumb agreement.

Of course. Marriage was their way of keeping their wayward son in line.

Your parents’ silent anger was palpable on the way back home. A tie with either Kim Seokjin or Kim Namjoon would have been far far more profitable, both over and under the table. But any alliance with the Kims was better than none. They weren’t likely to profit anytime soon, but couldn’t afford crossing the Kims. Beggars could not be choosers.

You had gotten your customary punishment once you were home, locked in the basement for two days with no food. But what more could they do? The Kims wanted a good girl. They were getting one.

Thousands of miles away, Kim Seokjin expressed a similar sentiment to his brother on their weekly video-calls. Comfortably curled up with wine in his hotel suite, Seokjin asked his brother how he felt about the girl who got away.

Namjoon laughed. “She was never mine, hyung. I remember her mother more than her”

Seokjin took in a scandalised gasp “Namjoonie, I didn’t know MILFs were your type!”, causing Namjoon to grimace. “What is she like? Let’s look her up?” Seokjin suggested.

Namjoon pulled his laptop close, and started up a snooping algorithm he’d developed as a hobby. While the brothers traded jokes, it crawled the net to pull out what little of your information was present online.

Turns out, you had little presence in the outside world save for a few social pictures your mother had posted and the grades of your homeschooling system, a look at which astounded Kim Namjoon. Had you both studied in the same school and grade, your grades were the equivalent of  horsewhipping him and dragging the corpse home. Seokjin let out a low whistle when he saw them.

The other images were of you making your “debut” in business circles - your mother’s attempts to show you off hoping to secure a match before this.

The brothers saw a regular featured girl who was simply but tastefully dressed. You weren’t very social, but you had a sharp eye that Seokjin, used to reading the faces of gamblers in his line of business, caught on to. “She’s a watcher, Joonie!” he exclaimed. They considered what they knew, money grubbing unscrupulous parents, and a girl who stayed out of the spotlight - it meant they probably were not very proud of showing you off. Namjoon said thoughtfully, “Just the two things we saw - an incredibly intelligent mind capable of insane grades, combined with the fact that she seems cautious and observant? Does she have something to hide? She could be like a bomb waiting to go off.”

“Hmm, true. I’d rather be on her side if that ever happens though.”

“ I agree. Part of me is curious as to what would happen if she were given the ideal chances, y’know? Normal family, regular schooling, university…”

“On that regard.. Eomma says that’s exactly what Y/N asked for in exchange for marrying Tae - a University education”

“I’m surprised Dad agreed” Namjoon murmured. “I wonder how she will keep up her marriage with Tae if she’s going to be studying all the time”

“That’s a misogynistic point of view Namjoonie, I’m disappointed in you! With all these changes you’ve been leading, I didn’t expect you to put her on the level of the other bimbos you meet in this line of things”

“Sorry, Hyung. It’s just that University is a full time demand in itself. So there’s no way she’ll be a good little housewife”

“You may be right.” Seokjin mused. A naughty look crossed his face as he leant close to the screen wiggling his eyebrows.  “I’m excited to see the showdown between her and Tae, to be honest”

Namjoon grinned and shook his head. But the grin didn’t completely reach his eyes, as he wondered, truly if you were a chance he’d unwittingly missed.

_______________

TWO YEARS LATER

The deal that you would get to attend college like a normal girl of your age, as long as you married Taehyung was perhaps the single biggest turning point in your life. Who knew that standing next to a man who had only moments before, been tied to a chair to ensure the marriage would go through, and promising to be by his side, till death do you part, would be such a game changer?

These thoughts ran through your head as you cleaned your hands of the grease and observed the hulk of machinery sitting before you. A sleek super bike - a modified Kawasaki Ninja sat before you taken apart, innards bare, and ready to get remodelled. You, a mechanical engineering student, chose to go hands-on with your internship, in a small outfit that worked on custom automobiles - Team Wang.

It wasn’t exactly small - the outfit itself had a few handful of people that on other days most would call it a glorified mechanic shop, but the business was notorious. A small boutique custom car and bike modification outfit, it was the product of Wang Jackson’s abiding love for all things auto.

Your Mother-in-law had raised her eyebrows when she found out, but said nothing. Your Father-in-law on the other hand, took you aside. Wang Jackson, he said was someone to be careful with. An heir from one of the families of the infamous Chinese triads, to the world, Wang Jackson was simply an eccentric rich boy who found a hobby and wanted to live for it. That said, if the triads interfered in the Korean Peninsula, it would mean war, so your Father-in-Law let you go with the request that at the first sign of trouble with the families, you’d cut off your connections and come back home. Getting to know Wang Jackson helped you realise his distance from his triad families here on the Peninsula meant he was more untouchable than anywhere else - he wanted to focus purely on his love for auto.

Grease coating your fingers as you fixed up one of the ball bearings and moved to deal with the custom bike’s suspension, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings till you felt a looming shadow over your station. Jackson was scrutinizing what you were up to, and when you turned to meet his eye, gave you an approving grin before heading away. Other cars and bikes were scattered across the floor, and were in various states of fixing up. Once you finished work on the modified Ninja, it would be much much lighter - deceptive for its bulky size, but much more maneuverable - especially on rugged landscapes in theory. If your modifications on the suspension and brakes helped balance the light frame, then the bike would be unrecognizable in its performance.

It was time to test it.

You and your group - Jackson, Soyul, Mark and Jooheon clambered into the carrier truck. A set of bikes and a car lay within, the truck smoothly slipping out of the traffic heavy streets onto the quiet expressways that only carried cargo traffic out of Seoul. Upon exiting the expressway, you, Mark and Soyul clambered out of the truck and entered the back where you geared up in leather and your favourite helmet. Earpieces were in, to help you stay in touch.  Soyul was taking a tweaked Nissan GTX and Mark, a custom Harley cruiser. 

Once you readied the bikes and car, Jooheon opened the truck’s back door, and your vehicles roared to life, smoothly exiting the truck and hitting the road. The four vehicles coasted along the expressway single file, till you entered the more forested roads. “Okay, losers, step on it! “ Jooheon’s voice crackled in your ear. You accelerated steadily, feeling the beast you straddled revving up further, wind-rush ringing and your body registering every jerk, vibration and squeak intimately. 

This was what Jackson called poetry - knowing your bike intimately and feeling your modifications come to life by riding it yourself. Jooheon had a snarkier way of looking at it - if your design failed, you crashed, and you took responsibility for it.

“Okay, Soyul, Y/N, we offroad in 15 minutes - Mark, follow the truck on the road”.

Roger.

You and Soyul accelerated past the curved road through the emerging mountains, slowing down when you passed a slightly sparsely treed stretch - ideal to start. You shot your arm out indicating you would head uphill first, and Soyul replied with a downward point - she would try downhill.

“Y/N, climb!”

Breaking and changing gear, you drove your bike off the road and onto the uphill slope, accelerating harshly. The initial climb was a bit troublesome, but the subsequent obstacles, rocks, trees, and dips and curves tested your gear, brakes and suspension to the max. “Soyul, go down!” you heard. Once she would descend, you and her would try doing a figure eight, uphill and downhill with the road at the junction, crisscrossing each other to push your bikes to the limit.

The downhill slope took more out of you - your suspension mods didn’t suffice to hold against the slope and you got back to the road sufficiently rattled with aching bones. You’ll be needing some really strong painkillers and a hot bath once you were finished. However, when you and Soyul braked on the road, Jooheon and Jackson weren’t waiting for you both.

You and Soyul exchanged a confused glance as to why Jackson, Jooheon and Mark weren’t waiting for you, and coasted along the road slowly. Parked a little off the road ahead was the cargo truck you guys had used, and Jackson had his back to you both, engrossed in a conversation with someone you’d known by notoriety but barely spoke to - Chaelin. She glanced at you and Soyul, a flash of interest crossing her face, before turning her gaze back to Jackson. He didn’t seem happy, but knowing that look on his face, he was definitely intrigued and considering whatever it was that Chaelin had proposed to him.

Chaelin smiled, and sauntered towards the two of you, pausing before Soyul, only to reach out and pinch her cheek as though she were cooing at a toddler. Soyul shook her off indignantly. She waved a heavily manicured hand at you, before getting into her own beast of a jeep and heading away.

Jackson and Jooheon didn’t check the performance stats by you, Soyul or Mark on the drive back - they went and barricaded themselves in their office and began a heated discussion. Soyul bade you good night as her mommy-duties called; she looked like a sweet teenager, but in actuality was married to a much older prominent musician and was a mother of two. Her love for bikes and cars was one of the many ways her husband indulged her.

You and Mark decided to wheel the vehicles back into the garage and clean up. As you both finished wiping down all the tools and arranging them back, Jackson and Jooheon emerged from their office, and beckoned both of you.

“How do you feel about racing?” he asked. Your lips parted in surprise - you didn’t expect him to jump onto Chaelin’s bandwagon. Before you could voice your thoughts, Jooheon cut in, “Don’t just refuse, think about it. We’re creating custom, high performance vehicles for connoisseurs - who are most likely to use them in racing scenarios. Let’s not kid ourselves - it’s a clear difference when people intend to race professionally for a team and when they’re fitting a personal vehicle for high performance. We KNOW our patrons are not headed for the bloody Taebaek, Le Mans or the next Grand Prix. 

Doesn’t it make sense to test these vehicles out in the very environments they’re designed to rule?”

_______________

FROM FIRST ENCOUNTERS TO YOUR FIRST YEAR

It was two days before your wedding. You’d nearly packed up your things, and turned to change for bed, when you heard rapid knocks on your balcony doors. Your guard shot up instantly at the sight of the silhouette outside.

Who made it onto your balcony without getting spotted? You turned to scream for help when the door opened, and a hand shot in to cover your mouth. That’s when you realised who it was.

Kim Taehyung.

With a finger on his lips shushing you and big widened puppy eyes, he clambered into your room, his hand still covering your mouth and pinned you against the wall. Knowing he wasn’t going to let go easily, you licked his hand, causing him to pull away with a disgusted grimace.

You never met Kim Taehyung until a couple of nights before your marriage - he’d ghosted every one of your chaperoned meetups till both sides stopped trying to make you meet. Your mother had taken you aside to “educate” you on “wifely duties”, while telling you sympathetically to do your best to keep his attention - you’d have a lifetime to get to know each other anyway. You were partly understanding and partly envious - he at least had enough agency in his life to dismiss what he didn’t want.

So you couldn’t really fathom why he was clambering into your room from the balcony in the dead of the night.

He’d settled himself quite comfortably on your bed, looking around at your room now stripped bare. Humming a merry tune, his curious eyes settled on a frantic you, as you wavered undecided, on what the hell to do with this guy. Do you introduce yourself? Hi, I’m Y/N, and I’m going to be your lifelong companion in a couple of days?

He flashed a blinding smile at you, and piped up in a surprisingly deep voice, “Let’s go out!”

“We’re marrying each other in about 36 hours, isn’t it too late to ask me out now?”, you replied snarkily.

His eyes crinkled, and he let out a bark of laughter. “No, dummy, get dressed! We’ll go out for a spin!”

“ B-But…”

“Oh, c’mon! Dress warm! Don’t think so much!”, he whines.

“Okay… Okay….”

Five minutes later, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and a baggy long sleeved T-shirt. You tuck your phone into your pocket, and slip some money into your jeans and under your shoe soles. “I’m ready”, you tell him.

He flashes a grin at you, turns out the lights, and sneaks you out into the balcony. He makes you latch onto his back with surprising strength, as he shimmies down a concealed plumbing pipe that you hadn’t noticed, and into the bushes. From there, you both crawl on all fours til you go past the guards, and you find a hole he’s dug under the compound wall that you crawl out from. You realise he’s taken you out from near the servants’ entrance, and no one would mistake you for anything else.

A delivery boy’s motorbike is parked nearby. He pulls out delivery guy jackets to conceal you, and helps you move your hair so he can clasp a helmet onto you, before slipping one of his own on. He moved the delivery box attachment so it attached to the side of the bike, giving you room to perch a pillion behind him, and got on, indicating you to get on behind him.

Things were moving fast. You didn’t know with what sense of reckless adventure you had agreed to come out with him. You didn’t even know if he would keep you safe or have you killed, because you were pretty sure he wasn’t into the marriage, given his absence.

Throwing caution to the winds, you'd climbed on.

From there on, it was a blur.

Having never gotten out anywhere alone, you felt exhilarated with the speed at which he spun you around the city. Reckly rushing past red lights, jumping signals, ignoring under-construction warnings, racing some street thugs, flicking food off night sellers’ stands on the bike, and even riding helmetless.

It terrified you, enthralled you, shocked and unbalanced you completely. From the rear view mirrors, Taehyung could see just how unsettled you were - that was exactly what he wanted.

By the time it was daybreak, the both of you had been run off the road by some of your Would-be-Father-In-Law’s goons. They’d surrounded you both, given a dizzy windswept you, a respectful bow, wrapped you in an overcoat, and put you in a van back home. You’d caught sight of a flailing Taehyung being tied up with rope, and being dragged off into another van that sped off, presumably to the Kims’.

You’d come home still dizzy and in a state of shock. Your mother had been on the verge of launching herself at you in rage, if not for the polite intervention of one of the accompanying goons - a rather well spoken captain who soothed her anger, and convinced her you needed care and not discipline. You were grudgingly bathed, dined, and sent off for your bridal spa treatments.

You had arrived bundled in expensive silks early the next morning at the hotel, to catch a glimpse of your fiance’ dressed in an expensive tuxedo, tied to a chair, as a group of men older than him surrounded him, giving him a stern talking to. Surprisingly, Taehyung didn’t look angry or upset, he was heaving in laughter. Your parents exchanged anxious glances, only to shrug it off - at the end of the day, they got to be in-laws to the Kims, and that was more than they could ever hope for.

Taehyung had finally been untied for the ceremony. He stood waiting for you at the altar, not a trace of discomfort marring his features, smiling at you like he actually looked forward to the marriage.  The evening went by with distinguished looking businessmen and capos alike congratulating you both, and as liquor flowed, you knew deals were being struck left, right and centre - over and under the table. Taehyung had carried himself with surprising dignity, and even slipping you an airpod you could wear under your veil. Soothing music was audible, washing over you and relaxing your tense nerves.

You discovered that day - as much of a rake as he was known to be, Kim Taehyung was a considerate man.

After your marriage, there was only the pretense of a honeymoon, as you were whisked off by Mrs Kim to “learn your place” and Taehyung dragged off by his father and brothers to do heaven knows what.

Mrs Kim was a surprisingly supportive mother-in-law. Strict but patient, she ran you through etiquette lessons, diplomacy, and a plethora of skills including first aid. You didn’t question it much - you had lots to learn as a mafia madam. Evenings were spent with you studying rigorously for your entrance exams, with online tutors that the Kims graciously arranged for you. Sometimes, as you sat studying into the night, Taehyung would stumble into your shared room, in varying states of dishevelment, exhaustion or inebriation. He’d acknowledge you, shower, and sometimes curl up next to you on the bed, attention glued to some movie while you revised into the night. But he neither made attempts to get to know you better, nor any move physically.

He was like a friendly but distant roommate who bunked with you occasionally. Not that you minded, but you asked him curiously once about it. His reply was just as considerate “I’m waiting for you to finish with university before we get properly involved. I know you had as much say in this marriage as I did, but maybe I’m selfish, I don’t want you to stay trapped here with me. If we are destined to be together, we will. But marriage, kids, all of them have demands that will be a burden on you.  I won’t make a move that may take your freedoms away, and that includes university.”

And that’s how a year of marriage passed - a comfortable arrangement where you stayed out of each other’s business. Till it was time for him to leave.

_______________

Three more years had since passed since that one conversation in Jackson’s garage. Your In-laws were surprised when you continued to “work part-time” with Jackson, figuring out that your interest in automobiles was one of your personal eccentricities and even kindly decided to equip a garage for you. It had expanded into something more though. 

Jackson had expanded his outfit - Team Wang, and had hired you as a designer. Considering his entire business was above the table, it raised no eyebrows in your family. You suspected Mr. Kim was secretly thrilled to have a potential inroad with the Hong Kong triads through Jackson.

You repaid your in-laws with all your intelligence wherever they needed you in the family - quietly managing situations, assisting Mr. and Mrs. Kim in the shadows wherever you could. By day, you were an overworked college student, taking advantage of university dorms, and you returned to the family home over weekends, becoming the Kim Daughter-In-Law. You didn’t socialise yet, your debut in the underworld as a member of their family was slated to happen when Taehyung returned.

With immense care, you kept the three sides of your life neatly separate. Until collision was inevitable.

Speaking of Taehyung - he was sent abroad towards the end of your first year of university (and marriage) - starting at Macau, then Mexico, and a host of other countries to be taught the ropes. You hardly managed to speak to him a few times briefly, and what could you say to a husband you had barely bonded with, except pleasantries?

When he showed up at your graduation, suited up smartly, he appeared colder and more formal than the excitable boy who’d taken you for a spin at midnight. He felt like a stranger.

Whether it was over dinner or through the conversations you gathered, you realised Taehyung was being groomed all this while to take over the family business - the portion that was strictly under the table. As you took in Taehyung’s stoic visage, you wondered what happened to that cheeky unpredictable boy. Just as the thought crossed your mind, Taehyung turned suddenly to catch your gaze on him, and a comical grin with skewed eyes broke across his face suddenly. 

He was back.

________

A/N PART 1 IS FINALLY OUT!