LISA POV

When we were in each other's arms, suddenly, Taehyung's iPhone rang, and he picked up the call. A heavy silence hung in the air as I overheard him say something that seemed to dig into my heart. 

Eventually, I couldn't resist and inquired, "Yes, I am Mr. Wang Kim's son. What happened?" After a brief exchange, Taehyung's expression darkened, and he uttered, "I'll come." The call ended, leaving me filled with worry.

"What happened?" I asked, and Taehyung, with a heavy sadness in his voice, delivered the devastating news: "Dad has met with an accident, and now his lifeless body is in the hospital. We need to go." The weight of the words hung in the air, and the reality of the situation sank in, casting a somber shadow over our world.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at Taehyung, the pain evident in my voice. I grabbed his collar, demanding answers like, "How can he die, Taehyung? You said you made all the preparations for his safety. How can he be gone?" The anguish in my heart echoed through each word, seeking understanding in the face of an unexpected and tragic loss.

Taehyung's eyes, clouded with grief, met mine as he gently placed his hands on mine, trying to ease the grip on his collar. "Lisa, I... I don't know. The accident was sudden, and despite all precautions, I couldn't protect him," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion.

The room felt heavy with the weight of our shared sorrow. I released my grip on his collar, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief. "We need to go to the hospital, Lisa. We need to be there for each other," Taehyung said, his eyes searching mine for solace.

Tears streamed down my face, a torrent of grief and despair overwhelming me. Taehyung, sensing my pain, pulled me into a comforting embrace, urging me to stop crying. My voice trembled as I revealed, "I lost my mother when I was born, and now my father. I have no one. I'm alone, an orphan." Taehyung cupped my face tenderly, wiping away my tears. "You're not alone; I'm here for you," he reassured.

His lips pressed gently against my forehead, and he spoke with a soothing tone, "Life doesn't stop like that, Lisa. It's part of God's plan. We must accept it and find the strength to move forward."

His words, though offering solace, couldn't erase the profound ache of loss that now enveloped us. During grief, Taehyung continued to hold me, his embrace a fragile anchor in the storm of emotions.

As Taehyung looked at me and said, "We need to go to the hospital now; come," I nodded with tears streaming down my face. Swiftly pulling out his iPhone, Taehyung ordered a guard, "Prepare the car; we need to go to the hospital."

Walking out of the room together, Taehyung's gaze shifted to a maid nearby. He instructed, "Go to my mother's room and tell her to come here." The maid nodded in acknowledgment. The urgency in Taehyung's actions reflected the gravity of the situation.

The atmosphere was tense, and the weight of impending sorrow was palpable as we prepared to face the unknown at the hospital. Emotions of fear, sadness, and desperate hope mingled in the air.

As we reached the hallway, my stepmother emerged from her room. Seeing her, she asked with concern, "What happened?" Taehyung responded calmly, "We need to go to the hospital; Dad got into an accident." The gravity of his words hung in the air, casting a shadow over the previously quiet mansion.

My stepmother's face paled at the news, her eyes widening with shock. "An accident? Is he alright?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Taehyung's expression remained serious as he explained, "We're not sure of all the details yet, but it's serious. We need to get to the hospital quickly." He gestured toward the awaiting car, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

As we rushed to the car, the tension was palpable. The guard, having prepared the vehicle as instructed, opened the door for us. Taehyung spoke to the driver, "Hurry to the hospital."

The drive was filled with an anxious silence, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. I stole a glance at Taehyung, whose jaw was clenched in worry. My stepmother sat beside me, my hands tightly clasped, silently praying for the best.

Arriving at the hospital, we rushed inside, guided by the medical staff, to the emergency room. The sterile halls seemed to close in on us as we awaited news about my father's condition. Taehyung's hand found mine, offering a reassuring squeeze.

The doctor's words hung heavy in the air as he delivered the devastating news—my father had succumbed to his injuries. A doctor approached, his face grave. "Family of Mr. Kim?" he inquired.

Taehyung stepped forward, his voice steady, as he confirmed our relationship with the patient. The doctor proceeded to update us on my father's condition, revealing a complex situation that required immediate attention.

The doctor, with a solemn tone, offered his condolences, saying, "I'm truly sorry for your loss. We did everything we could, but the injuries were severe." The weight of his words pressed on us, and the reality of the situation became painfully clear.

Taehyung, usually composed, faltered for a moment. He placed a comforting arm around me, offering silent support. The hospital room transformed into a space of profound loss, and grief enveloped us.

As tears streamed down my face, Taehyung whispered, "I'm here for you, Lisa." His words carried a depth of understanding and empathy, providing a small anchor in the storm of emotions.

My stepmother, seemingly distant in her grief, barely acknowledged the doctor's words. Taehyung, as my husband and stepbrother, took on the role of consoling presence. He turned to the doctor, asking, "What are the next steps, doctor? We need to make arrangements."

The doctor explained the necessary procedures with a compassionate demeanor, guiding us through the difficult task of saying our final goodbyes. Taehyung's supportive presence remained unwavering, bridging the gap in our family as we faced the painful reality of loss. Amid sorrow, Taehyung's care became a source of strength, reminding me that, even in the darkest moments, I had someone to lean on.

As the weight of our grief threatened to overwhelm me, I felt myself teetering on the edge of fainting. But Taehyung, ever vigilant, held me close, his strong arms providing a steady anchor in the storm of emotions. "Stay with me, Lisa," he urged softly, his voice a gentle command. "You need to stay strong."

With his words echoing in my ears, I struggled to regain control, clinging desperately to his reassuring presence. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, and I buried my face into Taehyung's shoulder, seeking solace in his embrace.

His steady heartbeat served as a comforting rhythm, grounding me in the present moment as I allowed myself to release the pent-up sorrow that threatened to consume me. With each sob that wracked my body, Taehyung held me tighter, his warmth a beacon of comfort amidst the darkness.

TAEHYUNG POV

As I gazed at the doctor delivering the news of my stepfather's death, a subtle satisfaction flickered within me. His life had come to an end. I end him because now what he was trying to do, I know, will make me do that.

Call me a monster. I don't care, but I love Lisa, and I want her in my life at any cost. Despite even taking her dad's life, I don't f-cking care. However, my internal victory was overshadowed by the sight of Lisa breaking down in tears.

As I broke the hug and made her sit in the chair, Observing my mother's indifferent reaction, it became evident that her concerns were more aligned with my stepfather's wealth than his well-being.

Deciding on the next steps, I turned to the doctor and ordered, "Go for the final processes." The doctor, understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded and left.

Turning my attention to my grieving mother, I reassured her, "I'll handle the final arrangements. Stay here with Lisa." My mother complied, her expression indifferent, and she whispered, "Now that he's gone, we should get rid of Lisa."

I clenched my jaw, determined to handle the situation with tact. "Behave for now. We'll address things after I've put him to rest. Stay with her; we need to show unity and care for our family," I instructed.

Scanning the surroundings, I noticed Min Jae with my guards. Gesturing for him to join me, he approached, and together we moved to a more private space.

The air was thick with tension as we discussed the upcoming challenges and the need to handle matters discreetly. Min Jae, loyal and efficient, nodded in understanding.

In the isolated spot where no one could witness our conversation, I fixed a deadly gaze on Min Jae and questioned, "Everything seems fine, and no one can suspect anything, right?"

He nodded, responding, "Sir, as per plan, we made it look like an accident. We called the ambulance, and now it's time for the police to investigate. Your influence will ensure they won't let the matter go easily."

A sly smile crept onto my face as I asserted, "No investigation will take place. Before you leave this place, ensure every piece of evidence is hidden. Failure to do so will result in your disappearance from the world. And don't concern yourself with money; I'll transfer the funds into your account soon." Min Jae met my gaze, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"You helped me in my darkest days and supported my wife and child when we needed it," Min Jae acknowledged. "I can't comprehend why you killed your father, but perhaps he was attempting to take something precious from you."

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, he made that mistake, and I had to rectify it. Now, make sure to silence everyone who witnessed this murder of my dad at that time. I want all the guards involved to be eliminated."

"Arrange a trial where they turn on each other, fueled by a game of money. Convey that I ordered their deaths, ensuring no suspicion falls on any one of them."

Min Jae, acknowledging the gravity of my instructions, replied with a stoic nod. "I'll handle it discreetly, sir. The guards won't know what hit them." His loyalty and efficiency were qualities I valued in times like these.

As we finalized the details of our plan, Min Jae assured me, "I'll erase every trace, sir. No one will tie it back to us." The chilling efficiency with which he operated was a testament to our shared understanding of the necessity for secrecy.

"Now, about the guards," I continued, "make it swift and clean. We can't afford any loose ends." Min Jae, with a subtle nod, affirmed his commitment to carrying out the task with precision.

Before he left, I placed a hand on his shoulder, expressing my gratitude. "You've been a loyal ally, Min Jae. Your support won't be forgotten. Once this settles, your reward will be well-deserved."

Min Jae, maintaining his professional demeanor, replied, "I'm here to serve, sir." With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of a carefully orchestrated plan and the weight of the decisions made in the pursuit of securing what I deemed precious.

As I walked out, a group of guards stood there, awaiting instructions. I singled out one of them and issued a directive, "Arrange the final funeral for my father at the graveyard. Ensure it's a dignified and well-kept place; I want him to be laid to rest fittingly."

The guard nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the task. "Yes, sir. I'll make the necessary arrangements for a dignified funeral," he replied, his expression reflecting a mix of professionalism and empathy.

As I observed the preparations unfold, the weight of the situation lingered. The dichotomy between orchestrating a discreet plan with Min Jae and now ensuring a respectable funeral for my father created a surreal contrast.

Meanwhile, I decided to visit Lisa and my mother, their grief-stricken faces etched in my mind.

Approaching them, I maintained a facade of sorrow, comforting Lisa as she wept for her father. My mother's distant gaze revealed little concern, her mind perhaps already drifting toward the potential inheritance.

"Lisa, I'll handle the funeral arrangements with the utmost care," I reassured, masking any hint of the intricate plans that had transpired. Lisa remained silent, her gaze locked in trauma.

I approached her, gently holding her chin to make her face me. Tears welled in her eyes, and at that moment, I longed to kiss away her pain, but I restrained myself.

In my mind, I silently apologized to Lisa, acknowledging the difficult choice made for our happiness. I had to kill Dad for our happiness. If he hadn't interfered, I might have tried talking to him about us

However, he crossed a line, and his mistake was unforgivable. But his actions left me no choice but to protect what mattered most to me—our love.

"We need to go now, Lisa. Gather your courage," I said, concealing my emotions. I hid the internal struggle, knowing the complexities that lay beneath the surface.

My mother regarded me with suspicion, and I shot her a sharp glare, causing her to gulp nervously. At that moment, a staff member emerged, saying, "Sir, everything is ready."

"Make sure to send the body to Angeline Graveyard," I instructed, ensuring the execution of the plan. Lisa's tears intensified, and my mother, attempting comfort, held her, advising, "Lisa, behave yourself. I know it's heartbreaking."

Unable to contain myself, I approached my mother, whispering, "Come with the body and the guards. I'll take Lisa with me for the final preparations. I need to make her understand and ensure she behaves." The weight of the situation lingered, hidden beneath a facade of control and composure.

I held Lisa's hand as she wept, her sorrow palpable yet unresisting. Walking out of the hospital together, I noticed the approaching police.

Concealing my true emotions behind a veil of sadness, I prepared for the protocol that would follow. The news of my stepfather's death would soon be broadcast on TV.

Kahan the police officer approached, saluting respectfully. "It's so sad to hear, sir. If you need any assistance or if an investigation is required, we are at your service. Although the information suggests it was an accidental case."

I nodded in acknowledgment, responding, "Please, allow me and my family some time for our last preparations. I don't see the need for further investigation. My stepfather was a respected businessman without any known enemies; perhaps it's part of God's plan."

"Understood, sir. Don't worry; we'll handle the rest," the police officer assured. With that, I headed towards the waiting car, where my guard opened the door for Lisa and me.

As we settled in, other guards prepared to follow in a separate car for the necessary protocol. The facade of grief and composure held firm as we navigated the complex aftermath of carefully orchestrated events.

As I drove the car, glancing at Lisa who remained silent, tears streaming down her face, I reached out and gently placed my hand over hers. "Lisa, I know it's heartbreaking, but try to control it. You're a brave girl," I uttered softly, hoping to offer some comfort.

She stayed silent for a moment before finally expressing, "I don't know, Taehyung. It's so hard to accept that my father is no more."I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, navigating through the city streets.

The air inside the car felt heavy with the unspoken weight of emotions. As we continued in silence, I searched for the right words to provide solace to Lisa.

"I understand this is incredibly difficult for you, Lisa," I spoke gently, my eyes focused on the road. "Losing a loved one is never easy, but we'll get through this together. Remember, you're not alone." She nodded, a mixture of sadness and gratitude in her eyes.

When we arrived at the graveyard, a swarm of police and TV news reporters had already gathered. My guards surrounded us as we stepped out of the car, the reporters vying for my attention.

Ignoring their attempts, I held onto Lisa and entered the graveyard with the designated protocol. The atmosphere was tense, with the funeral arrangements already in place, thanks to the instructions I had given earlier.

As time passed, my mother joined us at the graveyard, accompanied by the hospital staff carrying the lifeless body of my stepfather. Lisa, witnessing the whole thing, began to lose control, overwhelmed by grief.

I quickly grabbed her, pulling her into a hug, attempting to shield her from the prying eyes of both the public and the media. "Lisa, don't let it get to you like this. Control yourself,"

I whispered, my voice a steady anchor amid the emotional storm. The weight of the situation pressed down on us, and I endeavored to maintain composure in the face of public scrutiny.

As I held Lisa close, shielding her from the onlookers and the media's prying eyes, she continued to cry softly, her grief palpable. The graveyard atmosphere buzzed with whispers and the click of cameras capturing the somber moment.

Ignoring the reporters' attempts to question me, I led Lisa toward the designated area for the funeral. The police and my guards formed a protective barrier, ensuring our privacy despite the public presence.

As the funeral rites began, I guided Lisa to a seat, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and the weight of the orchestrated plan. My mother, seemingly composed, stood nearby as the ceremony unfolded.

Throughout the proceedings, I kept a watchful eye on Lisa, whispering words of reassurance, "We'll get through this, Lisa. Stay strong." The scripted sorrow played out seamlessly, concealing the hidden layers of the orchestrated events leading to this moment.

As the funeral rites continued, Lisa clung to my arm, finding solace in the physical connection. The media's cameras clicked away, capturing the staged display of mourning.

I maintained a composed demeanor, acknowledging condolences from well-wishers, both genuine and those driven by the spectacle of the event.

The funeral procession moved forward, my guards ensuring a controlled environment. My mother stood beside me, her stoic facade concealing the complexities beneath. As we approached the gravesite, the gravity of the moment intensified.

As the casket was lowered into the ground, Lisa's grip tightened, her tears staining her cheeks. I offered a silent prayer for the charade we were living, knowing that the truth lay buried deeper than the freshly dug grave.

Once the ceremony concluded, I led Lisa away from the prying eyes, the reporters, the police, and the public dispersing. Lisa, gazing at the gravesite, expressed,

"I need to stay with my father here for a while." Her request was met with disapproval from my mother, who insisted on returning to the mansion for anticipated condolences.

As Lisa's plea hung in the air, I intervened, stating, "Let her stay for a while. I'll take her back later." My mother, curious and somewhat resentful, whispered, "Why are you so caring about her?"

My response came in a deadly tone, "Just do what I told you. Handle the others and don't question me." The tension simmered as I prioritized Lisa's need for a moment of solace amidst the orchestrated chaos.

As my mother reluctantly left to handle the expected visitors, Lisa knelt in front of her father's grave, tears streaming down her face. The winter cold had taken hold, and a thin layer of frost covered the ground, creating a stark contrast to the warmth of the emotions that unfolded.

Lisa, speaking through her tears, expressed words of love and sorrow to her departed father. "Dad, I... I'll miss you so much. You left your daughter alone like this why I love you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, visible puffs of breath escaping in the chilly air.

I stood beside her, providing whatever warmth and comfort I could muster. Sensing her pain, I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, offering support. "Lisa, he knew you loved him. He'll always be a part of you," I murmured, attempting to console her amid the winter stillness.

As she continued to pour out her heart, the cold air seemed to intensify the solemnity of the moment. Slowly, I lifted her to her feet, and, in that poignant winter scene, kissed her lips tenderly. The cold air stung, but the shared grief and comfort persisted.

Breaking the kiss, I looked into her eyes, conveying a mix of understanding and support. "Lisa be fine I can't see tears in to your eyes," I assured her, our breath visible in the chilly air.

Lisa, though still grieving, managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Taehyung," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the quiet winter stillness.

With our connection deepening amidst the cold winter, we stood together in front of the grave, finding solace in each other's presence as the frosty air seemed to wash away the traces of sorrow and confusion.

The orchestrated facade momentarily dissolved, revealing a genuine connection amid the winter's emotional embrace.

As Lisa and I retreated from the grave, seeking shelter from the persistent cold, we made our way back to the waiting car. The atmosphere inside was somber, heavy with the weight of recent events.

I held the door open for Lisa, and as she settled into the seat, I couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched on her face.

As I started the car and began to drive, the rhythmic sound of rain on the roof accompanied our journey. Glancing at Lisa, I saw that the emotional toll had taken its toll, and she had succumbed to the embrace of sleep.

Her peaceful slumber provided a brief respite from the turmoil. The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked windows as we traversed the quiet streets,

leaving behind the graveyard and the orchestrated events that unfolded there. In the solitude of the car, I continued to navigate the complexities that lay ahead, knowing that the aftermath of the carefully woven plan was far from over.

Upon arriving at the mansion, my guard opened the car door for me. I strode toward Lisa's side and delicately opened the door. Gently, I lifted her into my arms, cradling her as I carried her through the entrance of the grand mansion.

As I moved through the opulent halls, I noticed my mother engaged in a phone conversation in the main hall. Ignoring her, I continued my path toward Lisa's room.

The weight of Lisa in my arms felt both comforting and burdensome, a tangible reminder of the emotional tumult we had navigated together.

Reaching her room, I carefully laid Lisa on her bed, ensuring she was comfortable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her serene face, still marked by the remnants of tears.

I lingered for a moment, my gaze fixed on her, contemplating the intricacies of the charade we had orchestrated and the genuine emotions that had emerged.

Quietly, I tucked her in, watching over her as she continued to rest. The room held a hushed ambiance, and as I closed the door behind me,

the echoes of the day's events lingered, leaving me to confront the aftermath that awaited us in the wake of the carefully constructed facade.

I walked out of the room, only to find my mother staring at me with unsettling emotions. She approached, saying, "Taehyung, I guess we need to talk." I nodded in agreement, acknowledging the need for a conversation. "Yes, we do need to talk," I replied.

We settled down on the couch, and I initiated the discussion, "Now, what happened, Mother?" She looked at me intently and voiced her concern, "What is going on with you? I can see it in your eyes – you care about her."

As I settled into the couch, our eyes locked, and I responded, "I don't think I can explain this to you fully. If you can understand, we need to navigate these situations and wait for the right time. Please, don't bother me."

My mother's gaze held a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Taehyung, this connection with Lisa, it's raising questions. I can sense something more than just concern," she stated, her tone searching for answers.

I took a deep breath, carefully choosing my words. "Mother, it's not about personal feelings. Lisa is my stepsister, and my actions are motivated by a desire to uphold our family reputation."

"We must be cautious about how these situations are perceived. It's about protecting the family image and ensuring stability," I explained, emphasizing the importance of maintaining appearances.

Her expression shifted; a glint of understanding mingled with a lingering doubt. "Taehyung, family reputation is crucial, but there's something you're not telling me," she pressed, her scrutiny unwavering.

I maintained a composed facade, masking my true intentions. "Mother, some matters are delicate and require time. Trust me, everything will be handled appropriately," I reassured, concealing the complexities that lay beneath the surface.

She spoke, saying, "We need to talk to Jennie about coming." I looked at her, hesitant about involving my sister and potentially complicating matters. "Why is it necessary? Tell her there's no need to come; she should enjoy her honeymoon," I suggested, hoping to divert any unnecessary attention. As I picked up the call, I heard my sister Jennie's concerned voice: "Brother, I've heard that dad died in an accident. It's on TV. How is that possible, and why didn't you all tell me?"

I responded with a bored tone, "It was not necessary; enjoy your time with your husband. There's no need to come back."Jennie chuckled. "I don't want to come, but it will look suspicious to my in-laws if I don't go." I advised her, "Jennie, if you decide to come, wait for a week. We need time to handle things here. And come up with some excuse; don't bother yourself unnecessarily."

She laughed, "Well, it's already winter, so there might be a delay in my coming. But I'll have to hide my sadness in front of my husband." I responded, "Do what you want. Anyway, take care." The call ended, leaving the weight of the orchestrated events to linger in the air.

As my mother looked at me, she remarked, "You didn't change, Taehyung. Seeing you unbothered makes me feel like my son is doing right. Anyway, I am already tired of many calls, and I need rest for today. Tomorrow, I know many people will come to Console. I guess God is with us; that's why Wang Kim died."I thought to myself, "It was not God, but me."

The weight of my orchestrated actions lay heavy beneath the surface, hidden behind a facade of family unity. In the quiet aftermath of her words, I maintained a composed exterior, concealing the truth that lingered beneath the surface.

As my mother retreated to seek rest, I was left alone to contemplate the intricate web of deception that had been woven. In the dimly lit corridor, I approached Lisa's room, the weight of her pain lingering in the air.

The door creaked as I entered, finding her on the bed, her eyes reflecting a sea of sorrow. Settling beside her, I witnessed the vulnerability etched across her face as she looked at me, tears streaming down.

Her fragile voice trembled. "Taehyung, don't leave me alone. I'm scared." Without hesitation, she clung to me, and I enveloped her in a comforting embrace, my fingers tenderly caressing her disheveled hair. "I'm always with you, my doll. Don't worry," I assured her, determined to be her anchor in the storm of grief.

As we sat hand in hand, a heavy silence enveloped us. I gazed into her eyes, recognizing the shattered pieces of a soul struggling to heal. Yet I steeled myself, knowing that I needed to be the strength she currently lacked.

Pulling her closer, I spoke with unwavering conviction, "You don't have to face this alone, love. I'm here with you every step of the way."

At that moment, a profound realization swept over me—I, who thought myself heartless, discovered an untapped reservoir of empathy.

Lisa, with her pain, had unveiled a side of me I never knew existed. Now, as I held her, I felt a newfound purpose—to guide her through the darkness, just as she had unknowingly done for me.

Breaking the silence, I cupped her tear-stained face, my voice tender yet firm. "Lisa, you haven't eaten anything." Her whispered reply was barely audible: "I don't want to eat."

Suppressing my frustration, I implored, "Lisa, you need to take care of yourself. Do you want your father to see you like this? My love, don't harm yourself. It would hurt me more than you can imagine."

AUTHOR POV

Breaking the oppressive silence, Taehyung's gentle hands cupped Lisa's tear-streaked face, his voice a delicate blend of tenderness and firmness. "Lisa, you haven't eaten anything," he said, his barely audible reply hanging in the air. "I don't want to eat."

Battling her frustration, Taehyung implored, "You need to take care of yourself. Do you want your father to see you like this? My love, don't harm yourself. It would hurt me more than you can imagine."

A pained smile graced Lisa's lips as his unwavering care wrapped around her, a lifeline in the overwhelming darkness following her father's death.

In a feeble attempt to voice her needs, Lisa managed, "I need milk only." Taehyung nodded, accompanied by a tender kiss on her forehead, a reassurance that he'd navigate this storm with her. "Sure, don't worry," he whispered.

As he reached for his iPhone, Lisa's hesitance emerged. The specter of a disapproving stepmother loomed, threatening to sever the lifeline she so desperately clung to.

Fear whispered in the recesses of her mind, but she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving. Lost and scared, Lisa found her voice: "Please, stay with me." In that plea, she revealed the depth of her vulnerability.

Taehyung's gaze met hers, understanding etched in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed, his reassurance echoing through the room.

He summoned the housemaid, instructing her to bring not only the requested milk but also a comforting meal, ensuring Lisa's well-being in the face of familial tensions. "Bring the milk and also dinner into Lisa's room now," he ended the call.

A soft knock interrupted their quiet moment. Taehyung, ever attentive, answered the door, retrieving a tray from the housemaid.

Closing the door, he returned with the offering—warm milk and a comforting meal. With a reassuring glance, he placed the tray before Lisa, a silent promise of unwavering support amid her grief.

The room transformed into a haven, and in that simple exchange, Lisa found solace and strength.

In that shared moment, the room transformed into a sanctuary of quiet support. As she resumed taking small, hesitant bites, Lisa felt a renewed sense of connection, not just to the food but to the unwavering presence of Taehyung.

With each nourishing bite, it became clear that, in the face of adversity, his care was a constant, a beacon guiding her through the shadows of grief.

Taehyung's words hung heavy in the air as he implored, "Lisa, you need to understand that you have to be strong now for us and our love." She nodded, her expression void of emotion, wrestling with the weight of the unknown.

Feeling an impending storm, Lisa urged him, "I am fine. You need to go to your room. Mother will suspect it." He shook his head, determined, and whispered, "Trust me, no one will question anything. You are important to me, Lisa. I love you."

His iPhone emerged, and he dialed a number, orchestrating secrecy with the words, "Prepare my penthouse. I'll come tomorrow and make sure no one knows about my privacy."

As Taehyung ensured confidentiality, his guard replied, "Sure, sir." Confusion etched Lisa's face as he concluded the call. "Do you want to go there?" she asked, seeking clarity.

His gaze met hers, a plea evident in his eyes. "No, it will be us, where no one can reach. Lisa, I need you to give us a break. I need to heal you, my love. Please don't deny it and sleep in peace." The gravity of his words lingered, leaving her torn between the comfort of his care and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As his words settled in the room, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension washed over Lisa. His plea for them to find solace away from prying eyes resonated deeply.

She looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance, and whispered, "But what about your reputation, Taehyung?". He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Our well-being is more important than any reputation. I can't bear to see you like this," he said, his voice laced with sincerity.

With a conflicted heart, Lisa finally nodded, conceding to his determination to shield them from the world. He held her close, his warmth a comforting anchor.

"We'll go through any pain with love," he assured his words a balm to her fractured spirit. Lisa observed him rising from the bed, and her curiosity piqued as he moved towards her closet. Picking up a suitcase, he methodically began packing her clothes.

She couldn't help but inquire, "What are you doing, Taehyung?". He looked back at her with a determined gaze, replying, "Just doing what I need to do now. Don't think about anything; just let me do my work."

Lisa watched in silence as he carefully arranged her belongings in the suitcase, his actions deliberate and purposeful. Once he finished, he returned to the bed, slipping under the covers.

Pulling her close, he whispered, "Now sleep and take rest, Lisa." In his embrace, she found a sense of surrender, trusting him to navigate the path ahead.

With his reassurance, she closed her eyes, allowing the weight of the world to fade into the background as she succumbed to much-needed rest.

In the cocoon of his embrace, Lisa leaned into his chest, seeking solace in the familiarity of his scent. Yet the ache in her heart persisted; the loss of her father felt like an open wound.

Despite the fear and the profound loss, she found comfort in the closeness, a refuge in his embrace that anchored her while feeling utterly lost.

Verna was in her room, her mind consumed by a burning resentment toward her stepdaughter, Lisa. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the intensity of her emotions.

She couldn't shake the hate that had taken root, festering with each passing moment. The worry for Taehyung, her son, and his relationship with Lisa weighed heavily on her.

As she paced the room, thoughts of Lisa and Taehyung finding solace together fueled the fire of her disdain. Verna's imagination painted a vivid picture of their closeness, intensifying her jealousy and frustration. The fear of losing control over Taehyung to Lisa gnawed at her, driving her to the brink of desperation.

In the silence of her room, Verna wrestled with her tumultuous emotions, grappling with the realization that her influence might be slipping away.

The idea of Lisa becoming a significant part of Taehyung's life fueled Verna's inner turmoil. The bond between mother and son, strained by Verna's resentment, teetered on the edge of fracture.

Unable to contain her anxiety, Verna couldn't help but wonder about the whispered conversations between Taehyung and Lisa.

The secrecy and the possibility of them seeking refuge away from prying eyes heightened Verna's unease. The room, once a sanctuary, now echoed with the unsettling sound of her fears.

As Verna grappled with her emotions, she questioned her role in the unraveling dynamics of the family. The worry for Taehyung's happiness clashed with her deep-seated animosity toward Lisa.

The intense situation left Verna standing on the precipice of a decision that could either mend or further fracture the delicate bonds within the family.

Verna, fueled by her resentment, picked up her cell phone and dialed her daughter Jennie."Hello, Mom," Jennie greeted.

Verna, her voice tinged with tension, replied, "Jennie, we need to talk. I'm worried about Taehyung and Lisa." Curiosity piqued, and Jennie asked, "What's going on, Mom?"

"Taehyung is in love with that B-tch Lisa." Verna, unable to contain her toxic thoughts, began venting about her concerns regarding Taehyung's close relationship with Lisa. Jennie, seizing the opportunity, subtly planted seeds of doubt.

"Maybe my brother is playing a game with Lisa," Jennie suggested, her words injecting a sense of suspicion into the conversation.

Verna, already clouded with resentment, absorbed Jennie's insinuations. "Do you think so?" she questioned, the idea of manipulation adding a new layer of complexity to her emotions.

Jennie, capitalizing on the moment, continued to feed Verna's doubts. "It's possible, Mom. You should keep an eye on them."

As the call unfolded, the narrative of doubt and mistrust gained momentum. Verna, caught in the web of negativity, found herself swayed by the insidious suggestions.

The conversation became a catalyst for a brewing storm within the family, pushing Verna deeper into the abyss of suspicion and resentment. After the conversation, they ended the call.

Fueled by her resentment, Verna became determined to separate Taehyung and Lisa, driven by the desire to sever any emotional connection between her son and the girl she despised.

In a clandestine meeting with her confidantes, Verna hatched a plan to create distance between Taehyung and Lisa. "I can't allow Taehyung to have feelings for that girl," she declared, her voice laced with determination.

Verna's strategy involved manipulating circumstances and orchestrating events that would force a rift between the two.

With a calculated approach, she sought to cast doubt on their relationship, amplifying any minor disagreements into insurmountable obstacles.

As Verna set her plan into motion, the atmosphere at home grew increasingly tense. She strategically sowed seeds of discord, hoping to cultivate an environment where Taehyung and Lisa would drift apart.

Her efforts were fueled not only by her disdain for Lisa but also by the fear of losing control over her son's affections.

The once-close relationship between Taehyung and Lisa now stood on shaky ground, manipulated by Verna's calculated interference. The specter of separation loomed.

a testament to the lengths Verna was willing to go to ensure that her son would be untangled from the girl she had grown to hate.