Minsu  

I have to resist the urge to choke my husband to death whenever we have sex.  

A task that grows increasingly difficult since Jae-sang harbors an unquenchable thirst for exploring the limits between pain and pleasure in the bedroom.  

We returned from our honeymoon two weeks ago, and I've been pretending ever since to be the loving wife I'm supposed to be.  

As the chairwoman of my father's company, Jae-sang knew from the start I would never be a kept woman. Yet, someone as traditional as him still expects certain roles to be fulfilled—by none other than me. Like his morning tea.  

He takes it religiously every day before breakfast while reading the news. I've often been tempted to tamper with his daily beverage, but Jae-sang is paranoid enough to get his blood tested regularly. I can't risk drugging him and having it traced back to me.  

Instead, I've chosen a more natural route. I've succeeded in acquiring a perennial herb known to decrease testosterone levels. Licorice grows exclusively in certain parts of Asia, so I had an expert from Turkey bring me some pots to cultivate in our greenhouse.  

It's only been twelve days since I started diluting ground licorice root into Jae-sang's tea, and already I've noticed it takes him a bit longer to get it up when we're intimate.  

The botanical expert warned me that the plant shouldn't be consumed alongside medication for high blood pressure. Jae-sang has been taking diuretics since we started dating, which means the licorice is bound to have some nasty side effects soon. He's destined to become sexually impotent while his health deteriorates.  

Two birds with one stone.  

Tonight, I'm hosting his annual masquerade ball— the perfect occasion to set my agenda in motion. Standing on the balcony overlooking the Grand Staircase gives me a flawless view of the guests mingling below.  

While Jae-sang is stuck in China for at least twenty-four hours, dealing with a fire that broke out at one of his warehouses, I get to entertain Orion's most important shareholders. A task not to be taken lightly.  

The "charity auction" at this ball is nothing more than a front for these vicious snakes to launder money. However, I know that if I want to bring Jae-sang and his precious Orion empire down, I need to look beyond the corruption. Before attacking the beast, I have to dismantle its allies—one by one.  

Tonight is the perfect opportunity to get acquainted with my husband's minions while planting the first seeds of chaos.  

The theme for tonight's ball is Phantom Symphony, inspired by the 20th-century French novel Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.  

Aerial dancers perform to the haunting melody of an opera singer, their fluid bodies effortlessly contorting within white silks hanging from the ceiling, their ethereal playground.  

The guests have adhered to the dress code: women prance about in lavish gowns inspired by the Victorian era, while the men are dressed to the nines. Everyone wears the signature white Phantom mask, covering only half their face.  

There will be two auctions tonight. The first, reserved for five pre-selected major Orion shareholders, will be held in a private parlor upstairs. The second auction will be public, allowing other investors and "friends" of the company to participate.  

A maid approaches to inform me that the private guests have arrived. As I head upstairs, my ruby necklace suddenly comes undone, halting me in front of the wall mirror positioned at the hall's entrance. I reach to fix it, momentarily distracted by my reflection.  

Once again, I'm struck by how well my personal stylist did with tonight's outfit.  

The rich burgundy gown is adorned with intricate gold lace appliqués along the corset bodice, enhancing its femininity. Off-shoulder sleeves reveal just enough cleavage to be suggestive without crossing into scandalous. The multi-layered, ruffled skirt made of beige tulle creates an eye-catching cloud-like effect whenever I move.  

"Allow me."  

The unexpected masculine voice comes from behind, and when I glance up, I see the reflection of a man elegantly dressed in a three-piece tuxedo. A diamond brooch glints from the lapel of his maroon jacket.  

Unlike the other guests, his Phantom mask covers the upper half of his face, leaving only his nose and mouth visible. His open palm awaits, silent yet commanding.  

I don't recognize his voice, but I know Jae-sang's security is tight enough that no one uninvited could've slipped in.  

"Thank you," I say, handing him the necklace.  

With delicate precision, he brushes my hair aside, his fingers grazing my shoulder as he works the clasp.  

"I don't believe we've been introduced," I remark, my gaze lingering on his reflection. There's an aura about him—a quiet, unsettling presence that prickles the edges of my subconscious.  

"I haven't had the pleasure," he replies smoothly, fastening the necklace. "But we'll have the opportunity later tonight."  

"Why not now?"  

Finished with his task, he faces me directly. There's something familiar about him, but the mask makes it impossible to confirm. I study what little I can: his black hair, slicked back with a few rebellious strands falling across his forehead, a sharp jawline, and thin lips curved into a ghost of a smile.  

"The night is young. I wouldn't want to keep you from those awaiting your presence."  

His words catch me off guard. Before I can respond, he slips away, disappearing among the crowd descending the stairs.  

Only those invited to the private auction know of its existence. He didn't mention it explicitly, but his implication is clear enough to raise concern.  

I'll worry about the potential security breach later. For now, I have a performance to deliver.  

Five people—three men and two women—sit across the room, lounging on velvet sofas beside tables adorned with their favorite alcoholic beverages and an assortment of hors d'oeuvres.  

The auction has gone smoothly. Each of them has claimed prizes ranging from private islands to department stores, properties Jae-sang put up for bid exclusively for his most loyal dogs.  

Now comes the most thrilling part of the evening. Anticipation thrums through my veins, making my fingertips buzz as I maneuver the small remote in my hand.  

The current slide showcasing the attendees' recent acquisitions fades to black, replaced by a single word illuminated in electric blue: Mirage. The letters hover above a 3D illustration of a revolving sphere.  

"Ladies and gentlemen," I begin. "Tonight, you've not only reaped the rewards of your hard-earned contributions to Orion's success but are also the first to be presented with an opportunity to pioneer my husband's next ambitious project. I have the honor of introducing Mirage—Asia's first floating commercial complex."  

The screen shifts, revealing the architectural design: a colossal, glass-encased sphere, its multi-story structures visible within. Elevated high above ground, its imposing presence dwarfs the surrounding buildings.  Whistles of awe ripple through the room, the air shifting from polite interest to ravenous curiosity. I smile, basking in their reactions, and continue.  

"Nexus Group will be the first investor in Mirage because I believe not only in my husband's vision but in the potential for South Korea to embrace futuristic architecture."  

I guide them through the project's details—its levels, designated spaces for businesses, recreational ventures—before signaling an employee to distribute cards and pens.  

"Write down the amount you're willing to invest," I instruct. "These figures will remain confidential, seen only by Jae-sang and me."  

Greed thrives in competition. They know their investments will determine market privileges, monopolies, and, most importantly, access to the coveted upper levels of Mirage.  

After the private auction concludes successfully, I return to the grand hall, more inclined to indulge in champagne and meaningless conversations. The guests remain enraptured by the night's spectacles—until an unexpected figure seizes the stage. It's not the master of ceremonies in his colorful blue costume.  

My heart stutters as I recognize the maroon tuxedo with the diamond brooch. The man from earlier.  

Why is he on stage?  

Whispers ripple through the crowd as he takes the microphone, surveying the room behind his Phantom mask. I personally reviewed tonight's performance schedule—there's no solo act. Whatever he's about to do wasn't cleared with my team.  

I weave through the tables toward the security guards, but I freeze when he removes his mask.  

A collective gasp echoes throughout the crowd.  

"What a lovely evening, ladies and gentlemen," he croons into the mic. "Many of you have seen me featured in articles alongside my stepfather, Park Jae-sang. Tonight, I finally have the pleasure of being home. I want to seize this opportunity to reintroduce myself to those unfamiliar—I'm Lee Jungwoo, son of the late Cha Sunbi, and the only legitimate heir to Orion. I look forward to working with you. Cheers."  

He raises his champagne glass. A few hesitant claps follow, but the room remains steeped in bewildered silence even as the music resumes.  

Mask back in place, Jungwoo strides straight toward me. I indulge him when he requests a dance.  

We glide in silence, blending seamlessly with the other couples. But his silence isn't passive; it's calculated. I realize he won't speak until I do.  

"Jae-sang will be pleasantly surprised by your return," I remark. "It's unfortunate he isn't here to welcome you personally."  

"Well, his absence gives me the opportunity to get better acquainted with you, Stepmother."  

His voice drips with subtle mockery.  

"No need for formality. You can call me Minsu."  

"I prefer to respect my elders," he teases.  

"How old are you?"  

"Twenty-eight."  

Only four years younger than me.  

"How does it feel to be married to one of the most influential men in Korea?" he asks.  

"I'm also one of the most influential women in the country. Perhaps you should ask Jae-sang how it feels to be married to me."  

His low chuckle warms my neck. He spins me, drawing my back against his chest, his lips lowering to my ear.  

"He's always had a refined taste in women. My mother, his first wife, was among the five richest women in South Korea when they were married."  

I don't know where he's going with this so I decide to tread carefully. "You must miss her terribly."  

"Every day." His voice darkens. "I've returned to fulfill one of the dreams she had for me when she was alive."  

"I suppose that has something to do with reclaiming your place within Orion?"  

"Among other things. I also need to ensure no outsiders try to claim the legacy my mother dedicated her life to."  

He spins me again, bringing us back face-to-face, his cold gray eyes locking onto mine.  

There is no mistaking the animosity in his voice. Lee Jungwoo has come back to make sure that Orion remains a glorious pillar among its competitors while I'm actively working to burn it to ashes. 

I'll have to find a way to deal with this unexpected problem.