Chapitre 29: Stop This Event NOW !. . . .My Husband Is Missing!.
The morning light, filtering through the grand windows of the mansion, did little to dispel the lingering shadows of Seongho's nightmare. He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the intricate embroidery on his silk robe, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated unease.
"Junseong," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "Maybe we should just cancel. Maybe the Met Gala isn't such a good idea after all."
Junseong, who had been meticulously adjusting his cufflinks, turned to face him. His expression was a mix of concern and reassurance. "Seongho, it's alright. It was just a dream. Nothing bad is going to happen."
He walked over to Seongho, his hand reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. "You're safe here, with me. And we've taken every precaution. There's no need to worry."
Seongho, his eyes still haunted by the images of his nightmare, hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I know," he murmured, his voice laced with a lingering fear. "But… I just… I don't feel like myself today."
Junseong understood. He knew that Seongho's dreams were often a reflection of his deepest fears and anxieties. He knew that the Met Gala was a place that could easily trigger those fears.
"I'll give you some space," Junseong said softly. "Get dressed. I'll be downstairs, waiting for you."
He left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He knew that Seongho needed time to gather his courage, to face the day. He knew that he needed to be strong for him, to be a shield against the world's uncertainties.
Seongho stood before his closet, his fingers brushing against the smooth fabric of the tuxedo his mother-in-law had chosen for him. It was a classic, elegant piece, a symbol of power and sophistication. But it felt wrong, too formal, too imposing. He reached into his shopping bag, his fingers closing around a familiar texture. He pulled out a second outfit, a tailored high-waisted pantsuit, full-length wide legs, and a high neck collar. It was a piece that his mother-in-law had secretly snuck into his shopping bag, knowing that he would never choose it for himself.
He slipped into the pantsuit, the soft fabric flowing around his body like a second skin. He felt a surge of confidence, a sense of empowerment. He looked in the mirror, his eyes meeting his own reflection. He was ready. He was going to face the Met Gala, not as a victim, but as a survivor.
He walked down the grand staircase, his footsteps echoing through the mansion. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath. He was ready to face the world, ready to face his fears, ready to face the truth.
The maids, who had been gathered in the foyer, gasped as he appeared. Their eyes widened in surprise, their mouths dropping open in awe.
"Oh, my goodness," Soo-jin whispered, her voice filled with admiration. "He looks… stunning."
"He's like a prince," Jihyun chimed in, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"He's… he's…," the head maid stammered, her words failing her. She could only shake her head in wonder.
Junseong, who had been waiting for him in the foyer, turned to face him. His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He had never seen Seongho look so confident. He felt a surge of pride, a sense of protectiveness which he himself didn't even notice. He knew that Seongho was ready to face anything.
"You look good," Junseong said, his voice filled with hidden admiration. "Ready to take on the Met Gala?"
Seongho smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Ready," he said, his voice firm and confident. Junseong continued,"And don't forget, we're going to expose Jaehyun Kim tonight. I have the evidence, and I'm not going to let him get away with it."
Junseong nodded, his eyes meeting Seongho's. He knew that tonight was going to be a night of reckoning, a night of truth and justice. He knew that Seongho was going to stand beside him, every step of the way.
The sleek black limousine pulled up to the mansion, its headlights cutting through the pre-dawn darkness like a pair of watchful eyes. The driver, a man with a stoic face and a sharp, professional demeanor, stepped out and opened the door.
"Mr. Seongho, Mr. Lee" he said, his voice a low, respectful murmur. "The car is ready."
Seongho, his hand resting lightly on Junseong's arm, smiled. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with a newfound confidence. "Let's go."
They stepped into the limousine, the plush leather seats enveloping them in a cocoon of luxury. The driver closed the door behind them, and the car glided away from the mansion.
As they drove through the city, the lights of the skyscrapers blurring into a kaleidoscope of color, Seongho couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. He was going to the Met Gala, a night of glamour and extravagance, a night where the world's elite gathered to celebrate art and fashion. But for him, it was more than just a social event. It was a chance to confront his fears, to expose the truth, to reclaim his power.
Junseong, sitting beside him, sensed his apprehension. He reached out, his hand finding Seongho's, his touch a silent reassurance. "It's alright," he whispered. "We're in this together."
Seongho squeezed his hand, his heart beating a little faster. He knew that he was not alone. He had Junseong by his side, his protector against the darkness. He knew that with his hubby, he'd be safe.
The limousine pulled up to the airport, its headlights illuminating the bustling scene of travelers and luggage. The air was thick with the scent of jet fuel and the hum of distant engines. Seongho, taking a deep breath, felt a surge of excitement. He was going to New York,the city of his dreams, the city that never sleeps, the heart of the art world, the epicenter of the Met Gala.
As they walked through the airport, their hands still clasped together, they were met with a wave of curious glances. Junseong, his sharp features softened by a rare smile, exuded an aura of power and charisma. His aura, spoke of a man who commanded respect and attention.
And Seongho's eyes, usually shy and hesitant, were now bright with a newfound confidence. He was a captivating blend of elegance and vulnerability, a captivating contradiction that drew everyone in.
They made their way through the airport, their presence a testament to their power and influence. The paparazzi, their cameras clicking like a symphony of anticipation, swarmed around them, their flashbulbs illuminating their faces. "Mr Lee! Mr Seongho! Over here!" "Junseong, any comment about the upcoming merger?" "Seongho, are you sure you're ready for the pressures of the Met Gala event?"
Seongho, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, instinctively reached for Junseong's hand, his fingers intertwining with his. Junseong, squeezed his hand reassuringly. He knew this was a part of the price paid for success and fame.
As they boarded the private jet, the world seemed to fade away. The plush seats, the impeccable service, the sense of exclusivity – it was a world apart from the chaos of the airport. Seongho, sinking into the luxurious comfort, felt a sense of calm wash over him.
The jet took off, soaring into the sky, leaving the world behind. Seongho, watching the city lights shrink into the distance, felt a surge of excitement. He was on his way to New York, on his way to the Met Gala, for the first time in his life.
Few hours later,their jet touched down in New York, the city lights a shimmering tapestry against the inky night sky. As Seongho stepped off the plane, the air hummed with a vibrant energy, a palpable buzz of excitement. He inhaled deeply, the city's scent – a mix of exhaust fumes, rain, and a thousand different perfumes – filling his lungs. He was in New York.
A sleek black limousine, its headlights cutting through the darkness, awaited them at the tarmac. As they stepped inside, the plush leather seats enveloped them in a cocoon of luxury, a stark contrast to the bustling energy outside.
"The Met Gala is just a short drive from here," the driver said, his voice a calm, reassuring presence.
Seongho, his nerves buzzing with anticipation, glanced at Junseong. His husband, his rock, his confidant, was calm, his gaze steady and unwavering. Unbeknownst to Junseong who was constantly his watch to make sure they didn't arrive late.
The limousine glided through the city, the cityscape a blur of neon lights and towering skyscrapers. Seongho, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension, watched the world outside, a world of glamour and secrets, of power and intrigue.
The limousine pulled up to the entrance of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, its headlights illuminating the grand facade of the building. The red carpet, stretching out before them like a ribbon of velvet, was already teeming with celebrities and socialites, their cameras flashing, their voices a cacophony of excitement.
Seongho took a deep breath, his eyes adjusting to the dazzling lights outside the vehicle. . He was going to expose the truth, to reclaim his power, to fight for his future.
He stepped out of the limousine, his hand still clasped in Junseong's. The world seemed to shimmer around them, a kaleidoscope of lights and laughter.
He took a step onto the red carpet, his head held high, his eyes gleaming with determination. The Met Gala was about to begin, and he was ready to take on the world.
The moment Seongho and Junseong stepped onto the red carpet, the world shifted. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, a wave of whispers and excited murmurs. Heads turned, cameras flashed, and the air crackled with a potent mix of awe and curiosity. It was as if the very fabric of the Met Gala had been woven with anticipation for their arrival.
Junseong, his sharp features softened by a rare smile, exuded an aura of power and charisma. His tailored suit, impeccably cut and tailored to his lean frame, spoke of a man who commanded respect and attention. He was the epitome of a successful CEO, a titan of industry, a man who had it all.
But it was Seongho who truly stole the show. He was a vision in his tailored pantsuit, the soft fabric hugging his slender frame, the high neck collar accentuating his delicate features. His eyes, usually shy and hesitant, were now bright with a newfound confidence. He was a captivating blend of elegance and vulnerability, a captivating contradiction that drew everyone in.
The crowd, their eyes widening in surprise, murmured in awe. "Is that...Mr Lee?" "Wow!,his husband? He's stunning!" "They look like a power couple! Like Taehyung and Jungkook!"
The paparazzi, their cameras clicking like a symphony of anticipation, descended upon them, their flashbulbs illuminating the scene. "Mr Lee! Mr Seongho! Over here!" "Mr Lee, any comment about the embezzlement case?" " Mr Seongho, we heard from other sources that you're also an artist and since it's your first time here, do you feel overwhelmed ?"
Their bodyguards, tall and imposing figures clad in black suits, formed a protective barrier around them, their faces impassive, their movements fluid and efficient. They pushed through the crowd trying to get their bosses to the entrance of the museum.
As they finally reached the entrance of the museum, the crowd's cheers and the paparazzi's flashes were a deafening roar. But Seongho, his hand still clasped in Junseong's, felt a surge of confidence. He knew that he was not just a pretty face, not just a trophy husband. He would show everyone his support for his husband .
He took a step inside the museum, his head held high, his eyes gleaming with determination and excitement .
Inside, the air buzzed with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The museum's grand halls were transformed into a dazzling spectacle of art, fashion, and celebrity. Seongho, his eyes wide with wonder, found himself surrounded by a sea of familiar faces. Troye Sivan, Lisa, Taekook, Hyunjin, Jennie, Mona Patel, Justin Bieber, Zendaya – his favorite celebrities, all gathered in one place.
He pinched himself over and over again, unable to believe his eyes. "Junseong- ssi," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Can you introduce me to them please?"
Junseong, his eyes twinkling with amusement, groaned softly. "Seongho," he said, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. "You know I don't like to play the celebrity game." He took a sip of his wine, his gaze scanning the crowd. "But...okay," he conceded, his voice softening. "I'll introduce you to them. But only if you promise not to embarrass me."
Seongho, his heart overflowing with joy, nodded eagerly. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Junseong led him through the crowd, introducing him to each celebrity with a casual grace. Seongho, his heart pounding with excitement, chatted with them, his eyes wide with wonder. He was living a dream, a fantasy he had never dared to imagine.
As they mingled with the guests, a familiar figure caught Junseong's eye. Tae-joon, his former best friend, the one who had betrayed him and left him behind for a new life in Japan, stood across the room, his arm linked with a handsome man.
Minhyuk, Tae-joon's husband, noticed Junseong's arrival. He nudged Tae-joon, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "Go talk to him," he urged, his voice a low whisper. "Make things right."
Tae-joon, his face a mask of conflicted emotions, hesitated for a moment before nodding. He walked towards Junseong, his steps slow and deliberate.
Junseong, his gaze fixed on the crowd, ignored Tae-joon's approach. He took a sip of his wine, his expression unreadable.
Seongho, his brow furrowed with confusion, watched the scene unfold. He didn't know his husband's connection with the stranger, but he could sense the tension in the air. He kept quiet, his eyes darting between Junseong and Tae-joon.
"Junseong," Tae-joon said, his voice laced with a hint of regret. "I'm so sorry for leaving you. It wasn't my fault. I didn't mean to betray you."
Seongho's heart sank. He felt a pang of sadness, a wave of confusion. Were they lovers in the past? The thought made him feel a strange mix of emotions – jealousy, hurt, and a deep sense of unease.
Junseong, his gaze still fixed on the crowd, finally turned to face Tae-joon. "You were the one who left," he said, his voice cold and emotionless. "You were the one who chose to start a new life in Japan. You were the one who betrayed our friendship."
Seongho, his eyes widening in surprise, listened intently. He had never heard Junseong speak so coldly, so harshly. He had never realized the depth of the pain that Tae-joon had caused him.
"I'm trying to make things right," Tae-joon pleaded. "I'm trying to apologize."
Junseong scoffed. "You don't get to apologize," he said, his voice laced with a hint of disdain. "You don't get to rewrite history. You were the one who ruined our friendship. You were the one who broke my heart."
Seongho, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions, felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was the first and only person in his husband's life. Even though he didn't held his heart, he was the one who held his trust.
Minhyuk, his face a mask of concern, approached the group. He placed a hand on Tae-joon's shoulder, his eyes pleading with Seongho to make his husband change his mind.
Seongho, his heart aching for his husband, tried to intervene. "Junseong," he said, his voice soft and hesitant. "Maybe you should give him a chance. Maybe..."
Junseong, his gaze fixed on Seongho, cut him off. "Seongho," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "This is between Tae-joon and me. It's our history. You don't have a say in it so you should try to mind your business."
Seongho, his heart sinking, nodded silently. He masked the pain in his eyes, trying to appear strong and confident. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness, a sense of disappointment. He wanted to be there for his husband, to support him, to help him heal. But he knew that this was a battle that Junseong wanted to fight alone.
Just as Seongho was about to try again to reason with Junseong, a voice boomed through the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," the chairman of the event announced, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "Welcome to the Met Gala. Let the night begin!"
The lights dimmed, the music swelled, and the crowd erupted in a wave of applause. The Met Gala had officially begun. Seongho, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions, watched as Junseong and Tae-joon stood together , wondering the dynamics between them. He knew that this was just the beginning, the first act in a drama that was far from over. He knew that he had a part to play, a role to fulfill and he was determined to help his husband heal.
The host, a seasoned veteran of the gala circuit, cleared his throat confidently, his voice booming through the grand hall. "And now," he announced, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint, "for a moment that's not often seen at the Met Gala, but one that's certainly deserving of recognition." He paused, allowing the murmur of anticipation to build.
"This event," he continued, "is usually reserved for celebrating artists and designers, but tonight, we have a businessman who deserves a standing ovation. A man who, despite a recent scandal, has proven his resilience and his unwavering commitment to success. A man who, at his young age, has already achieved more than most could dream of."
He smiled, his eyes meeting Junseong's across the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming the youngest CEO to achieve such remarkable success, Mr. Lee Junseong!"
A wave of applause erupted, the sound echoing through the grand hall. Seongho, his heart swelling with pride, clapped enthusiastically, his eyes glued to Junseong as he rose from his seat, a confident smile gracing his lips. The celebrities, their faces a mix of admiration and curiosity, followed suit, their applause a symphony of appreciation.
Taesung, Junseong's best friend, rose from his seat and gave Junseong a thumbs-up, his face beaming with pride. Junseong, his gaze meeting Seongho's, gave him a reassuring smile before making his way to the stage.
He walked with a confident stride, his presence commanding attention, his every movement radiating power and charisma.
Jaehyun Kim, seated in a secluded corner of the hall, watched the scene unfold with a cold, calculating smirk. He had his men, disguised amongst the crowd, ready to strike. The moment Junseong accepted the award, the moment everyone's attention was diverted, he would signal his men to act. He had meticulously planned this and was determined to carry it out .
Junseong, standing on the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd, felt a surge of gratitude. He raised his hand, silencing the applause, his voice resonating with sincerity. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Thank you to everyone who has supported me, who has believed in me, who has stood by me through thick and thin."
He paused, his eyes meeting Seongho's again. "To my parents, for raising me to be the man I am today. To my friends, for always being there for me, for always believing in my dreams. And to my husband, Seongho, for your unwavering support, for always being there to pick me up when I fall, for always believing in me, even when I doubt myself."
He took a deep breath, his voice softening. "This award," he continued, "is not just for me. It's for everyone who has been a part of my journey. It's for Seongho, who has been by my side through every challenge, every obstacle, every triumph. It's for the victims of the embezzlement case, who have suffered so much. And it's for justice."
He paused again, his gaze hardening. "I have the evidence," he said, his voice ringing with conviction. "The evidence that will expose the perpetrators, the evidence that will bring them to justice."
He held out his hand, revealing a file and a memory card. A murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The host, his eyes widening in surprise, gestured to the stage crew. A projector and a laptop were brought to the stage, ready to display the evidence.
The lights flickered, then plunged into darkness. Jaehyun Kim, his smirk widening, signaled his men. They moved swiftly, their faces masked, their movements precise. Chaos erupted as the crowd gasped in surprise and confusion.
Seongho, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a wave of panic wash over him. He looked around frantically, his eyes searching for Junseong. He saw Jaehyun Kim, his eyes gleaming with malice, coming close to him, his men following close behind. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that he was in danger.
He turned to run, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to get out of there, had to get away from Jaehyun Kim. He pushed through the crowd, his body a blur of motion, his mind racing. He had to escape. He had to survive.
The murmuring grew louder, the crowd's confusion turning into a cacophony of panic. "What's happening?" "Is this a power outage?"
Junseong, his heart quickening with a sense of dread, shouted Seongho's name, his voice echoing through the darkness. "Seongho!" he yelled, his voice laced with urgency. "Seongho, where are you?"
But Seongho didn't reply.
The security guards, their faces etched with concern, rushed to the power room, their hands moving quickly, their eyes searching for the source of the power outage. They found it – a few cables connected to the electrical system had been deliberately destroyed.
The lights flickered back on, illuminating the grand hall in a blinding flash. The crowd gasped, their eyes adjusting to the sudden light. But Seongho was gone.
Junseong, his face pale with fear, scanned the crowd, his eyes searching for any sign of his husband. He saw the empty chair his husband previously sat on and the emerald necklace that his mother had gifted Seongho lying on the floor. His heart sank. He knew. He knew that Seongho had been abducted.
He remembered Seongho's nightmares, the visions of darkness and danger that had haunted his sleep. He remembered his warnings, his pleas to stay home. He had dismissed them, believing that his power could protect him. He had been wrong. He had screwed up big time.
"Stop this event NOW!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall. "My husband is missing!"
He turned to the security guards, his eyes blazing with fury. "Find him!" he commanded, his voice laced with desperation. "Find him now!"
He stormed off the stage, his anger a palpable force, his heart filled with a desperate hope that he would find Seongho, that he would save him. He had to find him.
Junseong's voice, raw with panic, echoed through the grand hall. "Check the CCTV footage! Find out what happened! Find out where he is!"
The security guards and the bodyguards, their faces etched with concern, rushed to the control room, their hands moving quickly, their eyes searching for any sign of Seongho's disappearance.
They reviewed the footage, their brows furrowed with confusion. The cameras had captured the masked men cutting the power cables, plunging the hall into darkness. But after that, everything was a blur. The darkness had swallowed everything, leaving no trace of what had happened.
Junseong, his heart pounding in his chest, paced back and forth, his eyes darting from one security guard to another. "There has to be something," he said, his voice laced with desperation. "There has to be a clue. Anything."
The security guards, their faces grim, shook their heads. "There's nothing, sir," one of them said, his voice filled with regret. "The cameras were all offline during the power outage. We can't see anything."
Junseong's frustration boiled over. He slammed his fist against the wall, the sound echoing through the empty hall. "This is ridiculous!" he roared. "This is incompetence! How can you be so useless?"
He turned to his bodyguards ,his eyes blazing with fury. "Get me the best hacker in the city," he commanded. "Someone who can crack into any system, someone who can find Seongho. Find him, or you'll all be out of a job."
The body guards, their faces pale with fear, nodded silently. They knew that Junseong was a man who meant business, a man who wouldn't hesitate to punish those who failed him. They scrambled to find the best hacker in the city, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had to be strong. He had to be resourceful. He had to find a way to save his husband.
Junseong, his mind a whirlwind of fear and determination, paced back and forth, his eyes darting from one security guard to another. He knew he couldn't rely on them alone. He needed the best, the most experienced, the most ruthless detectives in the city.
Taesung dialed, his voice a low growl as he spoke to the person at the other end. "Get me the best detectives in the city," he commanded. "The ones who never fail. The ones who can find anyone, anywhere."
Taesung knew Junseong was in a state of panic, but he also knew that he was a man who wouldn't rest until he found Seongho. He contacted his network, his fingers flying across the keyboard, his mind working tirelessly. He knew just who to call.
Meanwhile, Taejoon, his face etched with concern, approached Junseong. He had witnessed the chaos, the panic, the fear in Junseong's eyes. He knew that he had to offer his support, his help, even if it was just a shoulder to lean on.
"Junseong," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm so sorry. I know this is a difficult time. But I'm here for you. We'll find him."
Junseong, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and despair, turned to face Taejoon. "You're here for me?" he scoffed, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're here after all you did? After all you've put me through?"
Taejoon, his heart sinking, knew that he couldn't erase the past, couldn't undo the damage he had caused. He could only offer his support, his help, his hope. "I'm trying to make things right," he pleaded. "I'm trying to help."
Junseong, his anger simmering beneath the surface, turned away from Taejoon. He couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bear to hear his words. He had to focus on finding Seongho, on saving him.
The host of the event, his face a mask of concern, approached Junseong. "Mr. Junseong," he said, his voice filled with a forced cheerfulness. "I know this is a difficult situation. But I assure you, we'll find your husband. The security team is working tirelessly to find him."
Junseong, his eyes blazing with fury, turned to face the host. "Keep shut," he growled, his voice laced with a chilling coldness. "Don't try to comfort me. Don't try to sugarcoat things. My husband is missing. His life is on the line not your life's. Let me think."
The host, his face turning pale with fear, stepped back, his eyes wide with a sense of dread. He knew that he had just crossed paths with a force of nature, a man who would stop at nothing to find his husband.
The atmosphere in the grand hall was thick with tension. The guests, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity, whispered amongst themselves. They had witnessed the chaos, the panic, the fear. They knew that something terrible had happened. They knew that the night had taken a dark turn.
The music stopped, the laughter died down, and the air hung heavy with a sense of dread. Everyone waited, their eyes fixed on Junseong, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. What would happen next? What would Junseong do? Would he find Seongho? Who was the person behind Seongho's disappearance ?Would he get his revenge? The questions hung in the air, unanswered, their answers shrouded in the darkness that had descended upon the Met Gala.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Amyratu
Amyratu I've been thinking about how to create a sense of urgency and desperation in the reader. The kidnapping of Seongho at the Met Gala, a place meant for celebration and extravagance, creates a stark contrast that heightens the stakes and makes the reader feel the weight of the situation. I wants us to feel the fear and determination of Junseong, and to be invested in his quest to find his husband.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone