Chapter 4:-One Bed, Two Strangers, Zero Trust
516 Words
They say the wedding night is magical.
Ours began with a keycard, an elevator ride, and absolute, soul-crushing silence.
JK Penthouse – 9:02 PM
Beep.
The elevator doors slid open and I stepped into Jungkook’s world—minimalist, pristine, cold as hell.
Glass walls. Dark marble. Designer everything.
Like no one lived here.
He walked in behind me, loosened his tie, and tossed it on the counter.
No words.
Not even a glance.
I held my clutch a little tighter.
“This place looks like a luxury prison,” I muttered.
Jungkook peeled off his blazer, revealing a perfectly fitted white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to expose the veins in his forearms.
“Don’t worry,” he said, heading to the kitchen. “You’re free to escape. Just let me know before you do—it’d look bad if my wife vanished on night one.”
I glared at the back of his head.
He was so calm. So… untouched by any of this.
Meanwhile, my chest still buzzed from that stupid fake kiss.
Later – The Guest Room Situation
“I had the staff prepare a room for you,” he said, gesturing to the far hallway.
He opened the door. It was spacious, too perfect. Soulless, like the rest of the penthouse.
I stepped in and dropped my bag on the bed. “Separate rooms. Just how we agreed.”
He nodded, leaning against the doorway. “You won’t even notice I’m here.”
God, why did that make me feel weirdly disappointed?
I nodded and turned away, about to shut the door—
But he didn’t leave.
“What?” I snapped.
He studied me for a second too long.
Then shrugged. “You’re brave.”
I blinked. “Brave?”
“To marry someone you hate. To stay in a place that doesn’t feel like yours. Most people would’ve run.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So I didn’t say anything.
Just shut the door.
Midnight – I Couldn’t Sleep
Of course I couldn’t.
How could anyone sleep in a fake marriage?
I walked out to get water, only to freeze at the sight of Jungkook standing shirtless at the fridge.
Just sweatpants. Messy hair. Soft sleepy expression.
He looked… human.
Not the CEO. Not the arrogant jerk. Just… a guy, thirsty in his kitchen.
He didn’t notice me at first.
I should’ve turned around.
I didn’t.
He finally looked up. Met my eyes.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m—no. No I wasn’t.”
He smirked, slowly taking a sip of water. “Want some?”
I hated him.
I hated the way he made silence feel loud.
The way he looked like midnight sin wrapped in toned muscle and soft shadows.
The way my body reacted before my brain could remind me: this is fake.
“No thanks,” I mumbled, and turned to go.
But before I reached the hallway, he said—
“Goodnight… wife.”
I slammed the door shut behind me.
My heart?
It had no right beating like this.
- Writer
