The apartment plunged back into heavy silence. Time stretched. Outside, the city pulsed, its lights bleeding weakly through the gap in the curtains. Kook sneaked out before Gguk comes home. Tae slept deeply, exhausted, nestled in the lingering warmth and scent she still believed belonged to her husband.

Around 2 AM, a key turned quietly in the lock. Jeongguk crept in, weary from the late business negotiations. He moved silently through the darkness, shedding his suit jacket and tie onto the sofa. The faint scent of expensive cologne clung to him – cedar and spice.

He padded to the bedroom, pushing the door open softly. The dim light from the hallway illuminated Tae’s sleeping form. Naked, tangled in the sheets, her dark hair spread across the pillow, she looked peaceful. A soft smile touched Jeongguk’s lips, genuine warmth flooding him. My beautiful wife.

Carefully, not wanting to wake her, he stripped off his clothes and slid beneath the cool silk sheets. He spooned against her back, his arm draping possessively over her waist, pulling her close. Her warmth seeped into him, instantly soothing his fatigue. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling the familiar scent – jasmine and sleep – kissed her bare shoulder gently, and drifted off.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the bed. Tae stirred first, blinking against the soft brightness. Warmth enveloped her entirely. She was pressed flush against Jeongguk’s solid chest, his muscular arm still wrapped securely around her naked waist. His deep, even breaths ruffled her hair.

The vivid, electrifying memories of the night flooded back – the kitchen counter, the shower, the raw possession. A deep, satisfied hum vibrated in her throat. She shifted slightly, turning her head to look up at his sleeping face.

The corner of her lips curved into a wide, blissful smile. "Mmm," she murmured sleepily, tracing a fingertip lightly over his jawline. "You were an absolute beast last night, hubby." She nuzzled closer, biting his earlobe softly. "Where did that come from?"

Jeongguk’s eyelids fluttered open, heavy with sleep. He blinked down at her, his brow furrowing slightly in genuine confusion. A soft, affectionate smile played on his lips, but his eyes held only sleepy bewilderment. "Hmm? What?" He murmured, his voice thick and raspy. His arm tightened around her waist reflexively. "Beast? At the party?" He chuckled softly, kissing her forehead gently. "You must have dreamed it, baby. You were practically asleep when I got home."

Tae froze. The languid warmth evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. Her smile vanished. She searched his face desperately – the gentle confusion in his dark eyes, the tender curve of his lips. No hint of teasing, no hidden smirk. Pure, sleepy incomprehension.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, loud and frantic. The memories crashed against the reality of his expression. No. It can't be.

Her voice came out thin, strained. "Hubby," she whispered, her fingers tightening slightly on his arm. "When... when exactly did you come home last night?"

He yawned, stretching slightly beneath her. "Oh, super late, TaeTae," he mumbled, smoothing her hair back. "Nearly two AM. Why? What’s wrong?"

Ice flooded her veins. Every bruise, every bite mark, every sore muscle screamed the truth. Her body stiffened rigidly against him. She stared at him, unable to speak, her eyes wide with dawning, horrified realization.

Jeongguk instantly sensed the shift. His sleepiness vanished, replaced by sharp concern. He propped himself up on one elbow, his brows drawn together tightly as he looked down at her pale, frozen face. "Tae?" Alarm sharpened his voice. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. "Hey, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" His touch was gentle, worried.

Not a dream. The words screamed silently in her head. The roughness. The whiskey taste. The voice. Jungkook. White-hot fury ignited inside her chest, burning through the shock, hotter than any shame.

She surged forward suddenly, wrapping her arms tightly around Jeongguk’s neck, burying her face against his shoulder. She clung to him fiercely, trembling not with tears yet, but with pure, incandescent rage. The comforting cedar scent of her husband filled her senses, a stark contrast to the phantom smell of cologne and betrayal. Jealousy wasn't harmless. Possession wasn't playful. That bastard. Her nails dug into Jeongguk’s back. I’m going to kill him.