One Rule
She hated him. She hated every aspect of him. Her soul flinched with every word he spoke to her. Every touch he laid on her skin made it crawl. Every time he’d walk into the same room as her, she’d find an excuse to leave.
That’s what it was like being married to Yoongi. Over time, Emma grew accustomed to his touch. There was less yelling and avoidance, but the dynamic was still cold. The love was barely there, keeping them together. She couldn’t leave anyway, she had nothing to her name, no place to go, no one to help. Everything she was, every cent of her worth was under Yoongi’s name. So, being the strong, adaptive woman she was, she learned to love the distant man.
Yoongi only had one rule. Never, EVER, impose on his work life. Emma’s own flexible morals allowed her to abide this rule and life went on. Until now.
Emma sat at her vanity applying the last touches of her makeup for the night. The final clouds of powder in the air settled as Yoongi strode out of the bathroom buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, his tie hung around his neck yet to be tied. He stopped behind Emma and sunk his head down to make eye contact with her through the mirror. His hands gravitated to her shoulders, kneading the soft skin and sliding down her arms. His freshly applied cologne wafted over her senses. Without a word, he took a makeup wipe and dragged it over her simple mauve painted lips. Before she could protest, he reached in her drawer and pulled out a tube of velvet red MAC lipstick.
“Wear this. I like this color on you better.” What seemed like a compliment to anyone else, Emma saw as a way of controlling her. It gave him the satisfaction of having the power, but it was subtle enough for her not to raise a fuss. She took the tube from his fingers and ran it over her pillowy lips. Yoongi eyed them for a moment before walking away to finish getting ready.
Emma stood before the huge elegant mirror in the corner of the equally huge bedroom. She examined her form fitting black dress, white fur boa, and the red bottoms that Yoongi hated. He always liked looking like the more powerful one and the added height and presence they gave her didn’t settle right with him. She wasn’t taller than him in them, but it was too close for his comfort.
A pair of hands on her waist startled her out of her thoughts. Yoongi stood, fully ready, behind her, his chin hovering over the crook of her neck. His hands explored their territory, traveling down to her hips. His fingers played at her left thigh, finding the end of the slit in her skirt that she’d safety pinned so it wouldn’t open up as high.
“You won’t be needing this.” In seconds, the pin was taken out and the fabric was allowed fall back from her hip. He ran his slightly cold hand up the smooth skin of her thigh, parting the fabric even more to put her on display. “I want everyone to see what I have.” The higher his fingers went the more intense her goosebumps became. He let out a bated breath against her neck causing her to finally pull away from his hold, grab her purse, and leave him alone in the room. What she didn’t see, was the cold look on his face as he watched her leave.
~~~
The hellos and pleasantries alone were enough to make Yoongi want to blow his brains out. He was many things, patient was not one of them. That’s why it infuriated him even more to see Emma effortlessly mingling with the other guests at this fundraiser gala they’d been invited to. He knew she wasn’t a people person either and she was still taking it like a champ, much to his annoyance.
The hours dragged by for Emma. She’d lost track of how many compliments she received on her dress and hair and the thank yous were just falling off her tongue like a reflex. Dinner had finally been served, and Yoongi had his hand on her thigh under the table. His thumb stroked her skin mindlessly as he engaged in the table’s conversation.
Emma was mindlessly picking at her salad when a man came to speak to Yoongi. Tall, neat hair slicked back, dragon eyes that could cut a bitch. Namjoon. Emma would often see him in Yoongi’s office and on a few occasions he’d been ordered to escort you places. He leaned down to Yoongi’s level so he wouldn’t have to look at him. “There’s a problem with the girls from Russia.” Yoongi leaned in closer so he wouldn’t have to speak as loud. It was too late, because they already had Emma’s full attention.
“それは何ですか (What is it.)” Yoongi answered in Japanese so she wouldn’t understand.
“彼らは避妊をすることを拒否しています。 そのうちの4つはすでに妊娠しており、他は脅迫しているので、使用しません。 (They’re refusing to take their birth control. Four of them are already pregnant and the others are threatening to so we won’t use them.)”
“それらをピルからインプラントに変更します。 彼らがそれらを掘り出して他の4つの世話をしないことを確認するために定期的なチェックをしてください。 これが出てほしくない (Change them from the pill to the implant. Have regular checks to make sure they don’t dig them out and take care of the other four. I don’t want this getting out.)” Namjoon nodded curtly and disappeared into the crowd of waiters and guests. Yoongi turned to say something in Emma’s ear but she shot out of her seat and stormed to the restrooms. What he didn’t know, was that she understood every word they said.
~~~
The car ride back was quiet, but neither party cared. Before Yoongi could put the car in park, Emma was halfway up the front steps. Yoongi took his time getting out of the car and opening the front door she’d slammed. Her shoes had been flung to the side and her boa thrown over a chair. He followed the sound of drawers being rifled through to his office. Standing in front of his desk, Emma held a file up for him to see. It had dozens of pictures of girls varying in age in front of the same dirty white wall. Their faces were screaming for help and cussing out the photographer. “Min Yoongi. What the fuck is this?” Her glare burned wholes into his and he could feel the anger boiling up from his core. One rule. Just one. And she broke it.
“How did you find those.”
“あなたは本当に私が韓国に住んでいて、日本語がわからないことを期待していますか?(You really expect me to live in Korea and not understand Japanese?)”
He charged towards her but she dodged him and stormed out of the office and down the hall. He chased after her and reached out. “Emma give me those-!”
“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” As soon as his palm met her arm she whipped around and backhanded him. The photos fluttered to the floor and her wedding ring left a cut on his cheek. When she realized what she did, her confidence visibly shrunk. He slowly touched the wound and stared at the blood that dripped down his fingers. His gaze lifted to her and he took a step forward, causing her to take a step back. She took another step back, then another, and another. Yoongi matched her strides until he was close enough to grip her shoulders, flip her, and smash her against the wall. Her cheek landed on a hanging picture frame, causing the glass to crack. Her rapid breathing was audible now and her hands were planted on the wall by her face. He pinned his forearm to her nape and leaned into her ear.
“One rule Emma.” The faint smell of alcohol tickled her nose as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine. He pressed his body against hers, forcing her farther into the wall.
Yoongi’s hand traveled to her hair and tangled his fist into the copper locks earning a small cry from her. He ripped her from the wall and dragged her down the hall and to the bedroom. He kicked the door open and shoved her onto the mattress. She turned her body to face him only to be wrenched back onto her stomach and yanked to the foot of the bed. Yoongi ripped the material of her dress to the side thanks to the slit and ran a hand up the back of her thigh to the waistband of her thong. He slipped his fingers under the black lace to pull them down, but he stopped. His other hand was pressed on the small of her back and he could feel her body trembling. He could see her eyes closed, trying to act strong, but the fear was slowly breaking down her act. He could hear her labored breathing, see her tears, feel her body quivering under his grip. With a reluctant huff, he grasped her arm and snatched her to her feet. He secured his hand on her throat and squeezed to ensure her attention. He avoided her tear stained gaze and leaned in close. “If you invade my privacy again, you won’t like what comes next.” He threw her to the floor with a simple motion of his wrist and left her. She flinched when the door slammed behind him, but she didn’t get up.
Emma remembered crying herself to sleep on the floor, but she woke up during the night to see she’d been dressed for bed and tucked in. She turned onto her other side to see Yoongi’s back, fast asleep.
