(Look at the Backstory first babe)

When Kim finished his military service and found out that his mother had arranged for him to marry a woman, he didn't like it very much, but he saw the insistence in his mother's eyes, the frustration and the anxiety, so he reluctantly agreed, as he would always be living and would not be free for that woman he didn't know.

He didn't have a wedding or any of those things, but he moved with his wife after taking her clothes from her father's house, and it was clear that she wasn't as impressed with the marriage as he was.

Looking at the short and revealing nature of her clothes, Kim didn't like it at all, and he would not accept his wife's clothes being like that, even if the marriage was arranged. She remains his wife in all the conversations and bears his name, and this is not the way a woman would bear the name of a man of his status.

When they arrived at their private apartment and began to arrange their things, Kim stood in front of rox and said in a deep voice devoid of any feelings, only coldness."Listen carefully, woman, I will never allow this type of clothing when you are named after me, and I expect this type of disgusting clothing to change."

He said while standing on the threshold of the door and leaning His back to the door “And work, you don’t need to work, my work will suffice the needs you require and I don’t allow discussion about this matter.. Another thing I will go to the military at dawn, and I will return after fifteen days, if you need anything call my mother, during the days I don’t allow anyone to enter my house in my absence, there are no parties or friends’ evenings inside the house”

He pointed at her before leaving "I expect to take care of everything in the house and I don't like empty, useless discussions!" He said and left heading towards the kitchen

After a few hours had passed, when he returned from work in the army, Kim walked into the apartment and immediately noticed the difference between his wife's clothes earlier and now. He could hardly believe what he was seeing; the top she wore now revealed most of her cleavage and ended above her belly button, while her skirt barely covered anything below her hips, showing off her toned legs. It made him feel uncomfortable, angry even. How dare she disobey his orders so soon after they got married?

*His face darkened as he stormed towards her. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded in a harsh voice. "I specifically told you not to wear clothes like this!"

"Well, I changed," she replied defiantly, tilting her chin up. "It's my body, and I can wear what I want." She crossed her arms over her chest as if daring him to say more.

Kim took a step closer, his expression unyielding. "You will learn your place around here," he growled. "I am your husband now, and you will obey me without question. Do you understand?"

His eyes widened in shock at her defiance. He never expected this from her; most women he knew would be thankful to have a strong husband like him taking care of them. But not this one. She was different, and that difference disturbed him immensely. "You're challenging me?" he asked coldly. "Is that what you think you're doing? I will show you your place!"

Without warning, his hand shot out and slapped her across the face hard enough to make her stumble back a step. The shock on her face was almost worse than the pain as she gripped her burning cheek in surprise. Kim took another step closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Do you understand now?" he snarled through gritted teeth. "I am your husband, and I will not tolerate disobedience."

She glared at him defiantly despite the sting on her cheek. Her words came out slowly and evenly as she said, "You can't force me to be who you want me to be, Kim." The use of his name seemed to infuriate him even more, but he didn't show it.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. This wasn't like him; usually, he could control his anger with ease. But there was something about her that brought out the worst in him, made him lose his usual sense of composure. "Very well," he finally said through gritted teeth. "Then perhaps I should make it clearer to you."

Without another word, he reached forward and roughly grabbed her arm, pulling her close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. She struggled against his grip at first but quickly subsided when he growled in warning. His eyes burned into

The feel of her hand striking him across the face was like a slap of ice water to his cheek; it snapped him back to reality and filled him with a blinding rage. He yanked her toward him by her arm, intending to teach her some respect, but she twisted out of his grip and darted toward their room instead, slamming the door behind her.

Fuming with anger, he stood there for several long moments, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to control his temper. Finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension drain from his body. This wouldn't do; if he kept reacting this way whenever she disobeyed him, they would both be miserable. He needed to find another approach.

With determination filling him, Kim strode purposefully toward their room and knocked on the door. "Lillia," he said through gritted teeth, his voice tight with control. "Open this door." There was a moment's pause before she replied weakly, "Go away."

He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself further. He knew she was still angry; they both were. But they needed to talk about this like adults. "Lillia," he said more quietly now, "please open the door. We need to discuss this rationally." When there was no response, he sighed and turned away from the door, going back into the living room. He sat down on the couch and stared at nothing in particular for a few minutes before finally saying, "Fine. I'll leave you alone for now. But we will talk about this later."

As the hours passed, he couldn't help but wonder if their marriage would ever work out like this. It was bad enough that

The sight of his wife's attire when she passed through the living room earlier had filled him with renewed anger and frustration, but he forced himself to remain where he was on the couch. He knew they needed to talk about their situation, but it seemed that she wasn't quite ready for that yet. Maybe if he gave her some space, she would eventually come around. In the meantime, there was nothing else he could do except wait and hope.

As time went by, Kim found himself growing increasingly anxious. He hated the feeling of helplessness that came with not being able to control his wife's actions or behavior. It wasn't who he was; it wasn't part of their arrangement. He had always been in charge before, and now everything seemed to be slipping out of his grasp.

Finally, after several hours had passed, Kim decided that enough was enough. He stood up from the couch and paced around the room, trying to work off some of his excess energy and frustration. Maybe if he went after her himself instead of waiting for her to come back on her own accord...

With a final deep breath, he grabbed his coat and keys off the table before heading out of the apartment building. It was late at night, but he had no intention of resting until he found Lillia and convinced her that they needed to talk about their problems like adults.

The bar she'd mentioned earlier wasn't hard to find; it was one of the more popular hangouts in town for people their age. As Kim walked inside, the loud music and bright lights assaulted his senses, but he focused on finding her amidst the crowd. After several minutes of searching, he finally spotted her sitting at a table with some friends, laughing and enjoying herself as if nothing were wrong.

He hes

As he watched her from across the room, Kim's heart raced faster and faster with each passing second. Seeing her laugh and enjoy herself with her friends was a strange mixture of relief and anger; on one hand, it was good to know that she could still find happiness in other aspects of life despite their marriage problems. On the other hand, knowing that she could seemingly disregard him so easily only fueled his determination to make things right between them.

He fought against the urge to storm over there and drag her away from the table; he knew that would only make matters worse. Instead, he tried to calm himself down by taking slow, deep breaths as he made his way through the crowd. When he finally reached Lillia's side, she looked up at him in surprise before quickly glancing back down at her drink.

"Hello," he said coolly. "I thought you might like some company." There was a moment of awkward silence before she replied curtly, "I'm having fun with my friends, thank you." He resisted the urge to sigh in frustration; this wasn't going nearly as well as he had hoped it would.

Deciding on a different approach, Kim motioned for the bartender and ordered two glasses of champagne before turning back to Lillia. "Look," he began, forcing himself to remain calm despite the growing tension between them, "I know we've been having some problems lately, but I really think we need to talk about this like adults." She didn't reply immediately; instead she continued to stare at her drink as if it held all the answers.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally lifted her eyes back up to meet his gaze. "What do you want me to say?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her reply stung like a slap across the face; he hadn't expected that she would react so negatively to his attempt at starting a conversation. But then again, their relationship had been strained ever since they were married, and it seemed like every move he made only served to make things worse. With a deep breath, Kim tried one more time.

"Look," he said quietly, "I'm not saying I did anything right either. I know my methods may have come off as harsh and demanding..." He trailed off, unsure of how else to phrase his thoughts without sounding patronizing or dismissive. After a moment's hesitation, he continued, "All I want is for us to work through this together. I love you, Lillia, and I don't want our marriage to fail."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Love? You barely know me," she said bitterly. "You only married me because Mom arranged it, not because of who I am or what I want." The hurt in her voice was unmistakable, and for a brief moment Kim felt guilty for pushing her away so far. But he couldn't afford to show weakness now; they needed to find some sort of compromise if their marriage was ever going to stand a chance.

"Fine," she finally said after several tense seconds. "Let's go somewhere more... private." He nodded in agreement, and together they left the bar, navigating through the crowd toward the exit. Once they were outside, she stopped walking and turned back to face him. "But just so we're clear," she said with a steely glint in her eyes, "I want you to understand that I am my own person, and I won't be dictated to like some possession."

Kim took a step closer,

The tension in the air was palpable as they made their way home in separate cabs, each lost in their own thoughts. When he finally entered their apartment, Kim walked over to the island counter and took a seat across from her, his expression unreadable. He knew that he needed to find some sort of compromise with Lillia if their marriage was going to survive; he couldn't continue down this path where she constantly defied him and they ended up in these pointless arguments.

"Lillia," he said calmly, hoping that his tone would convey the sincerity he felt, "I understand that you have your own life and your own ideas about how things should be. And I want to respect that." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "But at the same time, we are married now, and we need to learn to work together as a team. I know my methods may have seemed harsh before, but it's only because I was trying to establish some sort of order in our lives."

She took a sip of her coffee before replying. "I get that," she said, her voice still cool and distant. "But you can't expect me to just do everything you say, all the time. We both have our own ideas about what we want out of life, and sometimes those ideas conflict with yours."

He nodded in understanding. "True enough," he agreed. "So why don't we try something new? Let's sit down together, talk about our expectations and desires, and see if we can come up with a compromise that works for both of us?" She raised an eyebrow at him sceptically but said nothing more. Maybe there was still hope for their marriage after all.

"Look," he continued, "I'm willing to make changes too, if that

His eyes widened at her words. The idea that she would reduce their marriage to nothing more than a business arrangement and a means to an end struck him deeply. For a moment, he was at a loss for words as anger, hurt, and frustration coursed through him in waves.

When he finally found his voice, it came out harsh and bitter. "Is that what you truly believe this is? A transaction? Something you can just take or leave as you please?" His gaze bored into hers, searching for any sign of regret or remorse, but she refused to yield.

"Fine," he snarled through gritted teeth. "If that's what it takes for you to understand your place in this family, then so be it." With a force born of desperation and fury, he stood up from his seat, towering over her as she sat there defiantly. His eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw clenched tightly.

"From now on," he growled through clenched teeth, "you will do everything I say, when I say it. You will obey me without question, and you will accept your role as my wife." He took a step closer, their faces only inches apart now. "And if that means having my child in order to secure our arrangement... then so be it."

There was silence for a long moment before she finally spoke. "You make it sound so easy," she spat, "like it's all just some game or challenge for you to win." Her voice trembled slightly with anger and hurt. "But what about me? Do you ever think about how I feel or what I want?"

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down before letting it out slowly. When he opened them again, his expression was hard as

His eyes narrowed further at her defiant tone. He couldn't believe she was being so unreasonable; this was not what he had expected when they got married. "Fine," he snarled, the word carrying more weight than it should have. "Then consider this your first lesson in obedience."

Before she could react, his hand shot out and slapped her across the face again. Harder this time. The shock on her features was almost satisfying to see, but only for a moment. His anger was still there, boiling just beneath the surface, threatening to consume him whole unless he found some way to release it. He took another step closer, their faces inches apart now.

"You're going to learn your place in this marriage," he growled through gritted teeth, "and you're going to start by obeying me." His hand lashed out again, striking her across the cheek even harder than before. She cried out in pain as she stumbled backward, landing hard against the counter behind her. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face.

"You're pathetic," he hissed venomously. "I can't believe I ever thought you were strong enough to handle this." He took another step forward, looming over her now. "But you will learn. You will obey me, and you will accept your place as my wife, whether you like it or not."

With a final cruel slap across the cheek, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the apartment as if to punctuate his rage and frustration. He knew that things couldn't go on like this; they needed to find some sort of compromise, some way to work together if their

The force with which she yanked him back toward her caught him off guard; his head snapped to the side as pain radiated through his neck. He stumbled forward, barely managing to keep his balance as his eyes widened in shock at her defiance. Her next action, though, was even more unexpected: she slapped him across the face with such force that it sent stars dancing across his vision.

"You..." he began hoarsely, but she cut him off before he could get any further.

"You're the one who's pathetic," she spat out, tears streaming down her face now as anger and hurt fused together inside her. "You think you can just control me, own me like some possession? Well guess what, Kim? That's not how it works." Her words stung him to the core; he had never expected this kind of resistance from her.

Before he could react further, she planted a hard kick into his groin that sent him doubled over in pain. Tears of rage welled up in his eyes as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to lash out and hit her back, hurt her the way she'd hurt him; but he knew that would only make things worse.

"You need to learn your place," he ground out through gritted teeth as he fought to regain his composure, "and I am not going to let you get away with this." The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but they were true; he wouldn't let her win, no matter how much she defied him. Somehow, they would find their way back to each other, and their marriage would survive. It had to.

His cheeks burned as she slapped him again and again; the sting was unbearable but it was nothing compared to the humiliation he felt at her words. She knew about his background, about his family's legacy; it seemed that she was using it against him now to assert her dominance in their relationship.

As she continued to berate him and remind him of his place, he struggled to find something to say that would make things better, that would somehow turn the tide back in his favor. But every time he opened his mouth, the only sounds that emerged were weak protests and half-formed apologies.

Finally, exhausted both physically and emotionally, he lay there on their bed, staring up at the ceiling as she towered over him. Her words echoed in his head like a mantra, reinforcing the feeling of helplessness and insignificance that threatened to consume him whole. He had to find some way to reclaim his power, some way to make her understand that they were supposed to be equals in this marriage, not enemies.

But for now, all he could do was lie there and take her abuse, knowing that the situation would only get worse if he didn't try to turn things around somehow. It wouldn't be easy; she had dug herself in too deep now. But if there was even a chance of salvaging their relationship, he knew he had no choice but to try.

His anger burned hotter than ever as he lay there on the bed, listening to her threat. He wanted nothing more than to lash out at her, make her pay for all the hurt she had caused him. But he knew that if he did so, it would only drive them further apart. So instead of giving into his rage, he forced himself to remain calm and composed.

"Fine," he finally said after what seemed like an eternity. "We'll do things your way, for now." His voice was cold and distant, devoid of any emotion save for the lingering anger that smoldered beneath the surface.

He narrowed his eyes at her as she demanded he remove his pants. The thought of being completely submissive to her whims and commands filled him with rage, but he knew that resisting would only make matters worse. With a deep breath, he reluctantly obeyed. He stood up from the bed and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, sliding them off along with his boxer briefs before stepping out of them entirely. His erection throbbed painfully in the cool air, a testament to both their fury and desire for one another.

Carefully avoiding any further contact with her, he crawled back onto the bed and lay on his side facing away from her. "Do whatever you want," he said icily, "just get it over with." The words tasted bitter in his mouth as he forced himself to remain still, to let her have this small victory. In the corner of his eye, he saw her step closer, her movements aggressive and purposeful.

Her hand reached out and grasped him firmly, stroking up and down his length with practiced ease. He couldn't help but moan as she worked him into a frenzy, but the sound only seemed to fuel her fire further. She leaned in close, her breath hot against his neck as she continued her relentless assault on his senses.

"I own you now," she whispered maliciously between harsh breaths, "and I'm going to use you however I see fit." Her grip tightened around him, almost painfully so, but he didn't dare protest or attempt to stop her. The harder she squeezed, the closer he was to losing control entirely. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge of sanity, his mind screaming for release even as

The feel of her warm, wet folds engulfing him once more sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes tightly as she moved atop him, impaling herself on his cock with a force that left no doubt as to her intentions. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, and she began to rock back and forth in an unyielding rhythm that drove them both toward the brink of release.

As he felt himself growing closer and closer to orgasm, his body tense and quiver with anticipation, he fought against the desire to reach out for her, to touch her and lose himself completely in their shared passion. But he knew that if he did so, it would only further reinforce the false impression of equality between them. So instead, he remained still and silent, focusing all his energy on resisting the urge to claim what was now rightfully hers.

Her pace quickened as she sensed his impending release; her breath came faster, and a faint red blush crept upward from her chest toward her neck. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, and for a fleeting moment it seemed like she might cry out in ecstasy. But then, just as he was sure it was too late, she stifled the sound and bore down harder against him.

Her body tensed, and with a muffled cry she arched backward, her fingernails digging into the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over her in a torrent. He felt his own release building inside him, growing stronger by the second until finally it consumed him whole, driving him to bury his face in the pillow and let out a harsh, shuddering groan as he spilled his seed deep within her.

As the last tremors subsided and their bodies grew still once more,

His lips curled back in disgust as he tasted the salty liquid on her fingers. He wanted nothing more than to spit it out, but he knew that would only further provoke her. Instead, he forced himself to remain still and obey, opening his mouth wider so she could insert her fingers deeper. As he sucked on her fingers, trying not to gag at the taste of their combined fluids, his mind raced with anger and frustration. This was not how it was supposed to be; they were meant to be together, not apart like this.

She pulled her fingers from his mouth eventually, a small satisfied smirk playing across her lips. He looked up at her from where he lay on the bed, eyes burning with hatred and resentment. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither one of them willing to back down or admit defeat. But as much as they both might have wanted things to go back to how they used to be, it was clear that their relationship had been irreparably damaged. The question now was whether or not there was any way forward for them at all.

His eyes widened at her suggestion. The idea of being reduced to nothing more than a sexual object in their marriage, of having her use him solely for her pleasure while she presented the image of the perfect wife in public... It was humiliating and infuriating in equal measure. But he knew that if he wanted any chance of regaining control over their situation, he had no choice but to play along.

For now.

"Fine," he grated through clenched teeth. "We'll do it your way." His tone made it clear that he was far from happy about the arrangement; in fact, he was closer than ever to snapping and losing his temper completely. But he forced himself to maintain some semblance of control, if only for appearance's sake.

Carefully, slowly, he climbed off the bed and began dressing himself once more. He couldn't help but feel like a caged animal being led around by a thin piece of string as he followed her orders, obeyed her every command. It was a humiliating position to be in, to say the least, but he knew that for now it was the only option he had if he wanted any chance at regaining control over their marriage and his life.

His jaw clenched at her demand. She was enjoying this far too much; it seemed that every time he made the tiniest concession, she would go right ahead and push him even further. But once again, he forced himself to remain silent and compliant. There would be plenty of time for him to assert his dominance in their marriage later; for now, it was best if he played along with her game and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike back.

With a deep breath, he turned away from her and began making his way toward the kitchen. The tension in his shoulders was almost unbearable as he moved through the apartment, trying not to let any of the anger or frustration that boiled beneath the surface show on his face. It wouldn't do to appear weak or vulnerable now; she would only use it against him later if he did.

As he finished preparing dinner, he couldn't help but notice the satisfied smile that played across her lips as she sat at their dining table, watching him work. A small part of him wondered what it would take to make her stop smirking like that, to finally let go of whatever it was that had possessed her since they got married. But he knew better than to expect anything would change any time soon; not until one of them managed to gain the upper hand and wrest control away from the other. And even then, there could be no guarantee that things would ever go back to how they used to be.

His body tensed at her words, and he fought hard not to turn around and confront her. The last thing he needed was for their little game of power and dominance to escalate any further; the situation was already precarious enough as it was. But deep down, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the sting of her taunt. It meant she still cared, that she still had some emotional investment in their relationship, no matter how much she might deny it.

With a final mental shrug, he continued to focus on serving dinner, carefully placing each dish on the table with practiced precision. When everything was set, he took a step back and gestured for her to sit down. As she settled into her chair, he resisted the urge to glare at her over his shoulder; instead, he forced himself to maintain his outward calm and collected demeanor.

"Dinner's ready," he announced, sitting down across from her. The tension between them was almost palpable now, a living, breathing thing that threatened to consume the both of them if left unchecked. But neither one of them knew how to defuse it; they were trapped in this strange dance of dominance and submission, each movement dictated by their own desires for control over their lives and their relationship.

As they began eating in silence, he found himself wondering what would happen next. Where would their game lead them? And more importantly, could either of them find a way back to the love and trust that had brought them together in the first place? He honestly wasn't sure anymore. All he knew was that they were in this together, for better or worse, until one of them found a way out.

He looked down at his shirt, his cheeks flushing slightly as he realized she was right. In his haste to get ready for dinner, he'd forgotten to button it properly. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he considered her words; how many times had she accused him of sexualizing her when all he'd really been doing was commenting on what she chose to wear? It seemed like such a trivial thing now, given everything else that had happened between them.

"You're one to talk," he muttered, gesturing at her low-cut top. "If anyone around here is dressed inappropriately, it's you." He knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say; accusing her of the same thing she'd accused him of wouldn't help matters any. But he couldn't seem to stop himself from pushing back against her mockery, however futile it might be.

She raised an eyebrow at him in response, a knowing smile curving her lips as she took another bite of her food. The feeling of helplessness and frustration welled up inside him once more, like a pressure building behind his eyes that threatened to spill forth in the form of angry tears or sharp words. But again, he managed to rein it in; he couldn't allow himself to lose control any further than he already had.

As they continued eating in silence, both lost in their own thoughts and memories and regrets, he wondered if there was still a chance for them. A chance to go back to the way things used to be, before their marriage became this twisted game of dominance and submission. Or had they already gone too far down that path? Would they ever find their way back to each other's hearts, or were they doomed to remain locked in this endless cycle of

He felt his temper flare at her words, but he forced himself to remain calm and collected. "Perhaps," he said, meeting her gaze evenly, "if you didn't wear such revealing clothes yourself, you wouldn't be so quick to judge my actions." Her eyes narrowed at the accusation, but he held his ground, refusing to back down. They stared at each other across the table for what seemed like an eternity, their hearts racing and their breath growing shallow as the tension between them grew thicker with every passing second.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, he spoke again, his voice low and intense. "Look, we both know that our clothing choices haven't been the only issue in our marriage. We need to find a way to address the underlying problems between us if we ever want things to get better." He paused, searching her eyes for any sign of understanding or agreement. But all he found was defiance and resentment, mirroring the emotions that still churned within his own chest.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "I know it won't be easy," he began, his voice growing softer, more reflective. "But I think we owe it to ourselves to try." He looked up at her then, hopeful that perhaps this time she would hear what he was saying and respond positively. But as he held her gaze, the tension in the air only seemed to intensify, making it clearer than ever that they were still very far apart indeed.

The rest of their dinner passed in silence, with neither one of them willing or able to break the icy wall that had grown up between them. As they finished eating and began cleaning up the table, he couldn't help but