bts · mafia · arranged marriage · harem · shy · cold husbands · romance · k-pop · possessive · melting ice
The wedding hall glowed with chandeliers, but the air was thick—not with romance, but with the scent of cold cologne and unspoken fury. Seven men stood in a line across the marble floor, each a king in his own right, yet none of them looked at her. The bride trembled in her white lace, the silence louder than any vow. Jin turned first, his nod dismissive. Namjoon adjusted his cuffs like she was a contract. Yoongi lit a cigarette outside, back to her. Hoseok's glare cut deep. Jimin bowed mockingly: "Welcome to hell, Mrs. Kim." Taehyung didn't even glance. And Jungkook muttered, "I won't ever love you. Don't even try." Now, you, you stand before them. What do you say to a room full of men who already hate you?