He pushed his wet hair back, the sky still gray and rainy. Many people had come to express sadness and condolences, but he stood with a neutral face, holding his 6-month-old daughter with one arm and his 2-year-old boy's hand with his free hand. He stood firm, not allowing anyone to pity him.

Whispers circulated among the crowd. Did he kill his wife during a fight? Did his anger issues cause her death? No one knew the truth about her death, and while various families were curious, no one dared to ask Jeon Jungkook for an explanation. Who would question a man whose crazy and dangerous nature was legendary among mafia gangs? A man who kept everything under control, while rivals waited for any weakness to exploit—especially now, with his seven-year marriage ended and children left motherless.

The man adjusted his black leather gloves and walked toward his car, guiding his son inside before handing his daughter to the nanny. He needed to fix this situation immediately. Moving away from the vehicle, he pressed his index finger and thumb against his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he heard footsteps, he turned slightly to see Namjoon standing beside him.

"Did you go crazy and kill her when you found out she was cheating?" Namjoon asked. Jungkook kept his cool, messing his damp hair slightly. "I didn't get my hands dirty with her blood, Hyung." Namjoon nodded as Jungkook lit a cigarette. "Her family wants to take the kids. They're arguing you can't raise them alone. You'll have to get married."

Jungkook exhaled smoke. "Marriage? Not happening.""What about Taehyung's cousin? The Kim family alliance would show everyone you're still strong," Namjoon urged. "She's 19, Jungkook.""A 19-year-old who can't even change a diaper? I'd be raising another child," he snapped. "Do you have a better option?" Namjoon challenged. Jungkook crushed his cigarette under his shoe. "Pray she takes good care of my children."

You sit on the toilet anxiously, unable to face what awaits you. Your father forced this marriage to strengthen family ties, but marrying a man described as crazy, dangerous, and brutal terrifies you. Whispers of him murdering his first wife haunt your thoughts. What if he turns that violence on you? At least he's not some old, bald stranger—his rugged features and tattoos are undeniably attractive, though his coldness is unsettling.

The wedding was sterile. No smiles, no conversation. Afterward, he brought you home, said he'd be late, and ordered you not to meet the children yet. How do you even introduce yourself? "Hello, I'm your stepmother" sounds like a Cinderella villain's line.

Gathering courage, you finally open the bathroom door. The bedroom is empty, but baby cries echo from down the hall. Where's the maid? Your worry spikes when the crying stops suddenly. You rush toward the sound, pausing when you hear a faint lullaby. Cautiously, you open the door a crack.

Jungkook stands there in only black sweatpants, his bare chest covered in tattoos and scars. In his inked arms, he holds the baby girl, her cheek pressed to his shoulder as she grips his finger tightly. His face remains cold and emotionless, yet his movements are surprisingly gentle as he pats her tiny back.