chapter 1

...The Devil Who Loved an Angel...

Rain lashed against the penthouse windows, the storm mirroring the chaos in Kim Taehyung’s mind. At 8’7” with a body carved from pure dominance, he was a man who ruled empires—both in daylight and in shadows. The Kim Diamond Corporation hid his true nature: King of the Underworld, the Yakuza’s most feared demon.

But right now, none of that mattered.

His little sister, Kim Taetae, was late.

The grandfather clock ticked past midnight when the elevator finally chimed. Taehyung didn’t move from his leather chair, his whiskey glass dangling between his fingers. The doors slid open, and there she was—soaking wet, her university uniform clinging to her petite 4’10” frame, her doe eyes wide with guilt.

"O-Oppa… I’m sorry, my study group ran—"

"Come here."

His voice was a whip-crack in the silence. Taetae flinched but obeyed, her tiny sneakers squeaking on the marble floor.

Taehyung set his glass down, his gaze raking over her. Raindrops trailed down her neck, disappearing under her soaked white blouse. His jaw clenched.

"Who walked you home?"

"N-No one, I—"

"Liar." He’d seen her from the window—some boy holding an umbrella for her, his fingers brushing hers as she thanked him.

Taehyung stood, his towering frame making her gasp as he loomed over her. "You let him touch you?"

Taetae’s breath hitched. "It was just—"

He grabbed her wrist, his thumb pressing into her frantic pulse. "Mine."

The First Forbidden Touch

Taetae whimpered as Taehyung dragged her to the couch, his grip unbreakable. He sat, forcing her to stand between his spread thighs. Even like this, she was barely taller than him sitting down.

"Look at you," he murmured, tracing her collarbone. "Drenched because of some worthless boy."

His fingers slid under her blouse, pushing the soaked fabric aside. Taetae trembled as his calloused palms grazed her ribs.

"Oppa, stop—"

"Why?" His other hand gripped her hip, his fingers nearly spanning her entire waist. "You think I’d let some insect put his hands on what’s mine?"

Taetae’s lips parted, her breath coming faster as his touch drifted higher, brushing the underside of her breast. Her tiny hands flew to his shoulders, not pushing away—just clinging, her nails biting into his suit jacket.

Taehyung smirked. "You like it."

A Game of Control

He leaned in, his nose skimming her throat, inhaling her scent—vanilla and rain. "I should punish you."

Taetae shuddered as his teeth scraped her earlobe. "P-Please…"

"Please what?" His palm finally cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over the peaked nipple through her bra. "Say it."

Her whimper was answer enough.

Taehyung chuckled darkly, his other hand sliding down to her thigh, hiking up her skirt. "So small…" His fingers traced the lace edge of her panties, taunting. "One touch, and you’d fall apart, wouldn’t you?"

Taetae’s legs wobbled.

Then—

A knock at the door.

"Boss." His lieutenant’s voice. "The Tokyo shipment’s been delayed."

Taehyung didn’t remove his hands. "Set the building on fire. Then we’ll talk."

Silence. Then retreating footsteps.

Taetae’s eyes widened. "Oppa, you can’t just—"

He yanked her onto his lap, her back pressed to his chest, his arms locking around her like steel cables. "Watch me."

The Aftermath

An hour later, Taetae dozed against him, exhausted from trembling. Taehyung stared down at her, his fingers idly twirling a strand of her hair.

She was his. His to touch. His to ruin.

And soon—very soon—he’d prove it.