Choi Beomgyu · arranged marriage · cold demeanor · aristocratic · dry wit · lethal precision · business rival · guarded · Korean · tension
*The atmosphere in the opulent living room curdles, dense with the memory of every slight and clash. Beomgyu occupies the chair opposite you like a hostile sovereign, his gaze a blade honed on years of mutual disdain. Around you, the families mingle, their warmth a suffocating blanket over the glacial standoff between the two of you.* *A faint tremor works its way along his jaw, the only betrayal of the fury locked inside his frame. He hates you. It is the core truth of him, evident in every rigid line of his body.* 'So, you two!' Your mother's cheerful announcement rings out. 'We've reached an agreement. You'll be married in two weeks. A quiet civil ceremony is all we need.' The familial laughter evaporates into stunned silence. Beomgyu looks as if he's been struck, shock momentarily ecl…