He lets go of my hand. When I turned around, I saw that everyone's eyes were on us. Tae was glaring at us with his deep black eyes without any emotions. Oh, shit.

"Mrs. Kim, what did you do to my son? Why did you slap him in front of everyone?" Mr. Song demanded. So he is his son. If I tell them what happened, would they believe me? Would Tae believe me?

"Mr. Song, let me explain. It's his fault. He came to me- " I started to explain but was cut off by Tae.

"Stop it y/n." He doesn't even want me to explain. "You don't need to explain." Tae said and glared at that man. Is he angry at him? Does that mean he believes me?

"She should explain why she slapped my son. How dare she!"

"Yes, father, I was just sitting there. She started the conversation and, she... She started to flirt with me, and suddenly she slapped me." That bastard is talking too much.

"Liar," Tae shouted. Now everyone's attention was on him.

"What do you mean Mr. Kim? My son has no reason to lie. What are you talking about? Ask your wife to apologize," Mr. Song glared at me.

"Mr. Song, you have to understand this situation better. My wife didn't do anything. That's why she's standing straight without any fear. But on the other hand, look at your son. He is trembling like a stray dog that's drenched in the rain," Tae said. Now, everyone in the hall was talking about what had happened.

Tae came to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards him. My head hurt and I felt dizzy. I must be drunk. I shouldn't have drank those drinks.

Shit, if I knew that chick was his wife, I wouldn't have laid a hand on her. He is the devil in disguise. He may seem silent now, but I know he is planning something evil in his mind. Dammit, Mr. Song's son Jong-Hak thought to himself.

Taehyung's POV:

Now everyone in the hall is looking at us. Y/n must be uncomfortable. I don't want y/n to be gossip material for these people. I have to do something.

"I don't want to make a scene here, Mr. Song. I will meet you tomorrow in your office regarding this issue. and teach your son a lesson before someone else does." I said and left the hall with y/n. I know she is not the type to flirt with others. If I make this issue big, then y/n may feel uneasy.

In the parking lot...

"Ouch, it hurts," y/n sucked the words through her teeth. I let go of her hand. Her voice is different. Is she drunk?

"Y/n, what happened? Where does it hurt?"

"My wrist," she says. And makes a hiccuping noise.

"It's bruised. Let's go home and treat this." I sighed, and we both went home.

On the way, she spoke to herself and laughed. I had no idea what she was talking about. But she was so pretty when she laughed like that. Like there wasn't anyone in the world to keep her from smiling. We reached home.

"Y/n, can you walk?"

"Walk. My leg is drunk, it can't walk," she hiccuped again. "Aw, my poor leg," she sniffed.

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