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Y/N's POV

She felt a rock in her gut as they pulled up outside her tormentor's house. Yoongi had been right to be worried. Secretly she had been too but a part of her had hoped maybe denial would make things not happen.

She should know by now that that's not how life worked.

She didn't need to be told to get out when the door of the car opened. One of the guards grabbed her arm but she shook him off and glared.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking in without assistance." She snapped with a courage she didn't feel. The guard didn't reply, didn't even look at her. Like she was nothing. Cuz to her husband's uncle she wasn't anything.

Y/N heard the man, if you could call him that since she knew he had no humanity, mutter when she entered his office. She quietly went and sat on the leather couch across from the desk. Well if he didn't like her maybe he should pick better one next time. She shuddered. Hopefully there would never be a next time for anyone.

"I hear your studies have been going well."

"Deh."

My advisor tells me you're getting the hang out of how the company operates."

"I guess." She said with an edge to her voice, subtly wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs.

"And your Korean has evidently improved." She didn't reply. It wasn't a question so why talk to him more than necessary.

"I'll be straight to the point." He said, looking up from the file he was perusing. Y/N wondered how many trees had lost their lives to keep his stupid company up-to-date and informed on its internal doings. "In this industry education is respected. A high-level official, especially one related to me..."

"Unwillingly." She couldn't help herself, the longer she was in his office the longer she stewed and the angrier she got. He glared.

"...related to me needs to have a good education. While I'm pleased you already have an undergraduate degree you need something higher and more....related to the industry."

"Like what?" Keep control, keep control, don't piss him off enough to hurt family or Yoongi....

"You will obtain an MBA, takes about two years, after which you will take on your full position with the company." She felt the blood draining from her face. Two years. It loomed so long in her mind. Two years of waking up each morning, forcing herself out of bed, feeling the rock of depression settle on her chest, willing her limbs to move and her brain unfog. Trying to keep the focus on her fellow victim so she didn't just give up, sit on the floor, and never get up again. Because if she focused on herself for too long she was afraid that's what would happen and then there was no way she'd ever be able to take any opportunity to escape.

And then? Life long servitude to a man and organization she despised. She might as well be dead because to her that was the same as not owning yourself. Dead, dead...It was ridiculous to hurt her family if she wasn't alive, who would it affect?

He watched her, he watched the spark suddenly come into her eye.

"No." He snorted in annoyance.

"Fine, I'll take my nephew's music away.  And then you're family...." He reached for his phone and let his voice trail off, insinuating.  Letting her mind come up with worst- case scenarios.

"I don't want to study business."

"You'll study what I tell you to." He was dialing.

"Then fine." Her limbs were shaking but she stood up, hands curled into fists, the fear having coursed through her veins so long she felt dead to it now. Her sense of self-preservation hadn't worked properly in years. Despite her shaking, Y/N was fast.  He didn't realize she'd moved, he didn't see the scissors from his desk in her hand, until he'd hit the dial button. "You're rich enough to afford a new rug." A glint of steel.

At that moment, as comprehension sunk in, adrenaline shot through him as he watched the potential for his plans to go up in smoke.  Or actually, drip into the floor of his office.

He lowered his phone as she held the scissors to her wrist. He liked to keep them sharp and now he regretted that.

"Put those down!" He couldn't keep the edge of panic out of his voice as he pressed the buzzer on his desk that sent a signal outside to his security guards. Y/N said nothing, just glared. He held her gaze, glaring back. She was a child, there were bigger things to worry about then whatever it was that made her fight him so much. Both of them actually. The preservation of an empire, the chance to keep shaping the world, what a little brat...

The guards kept their distance, not wanting to spook her into actually slitting her wrist.

"Don't doubt me, most people don't know how to do this right. But I do." She ended with a hiss. Neither was sure how long they glared into the other's eyes. The tension in the room was palatable. The guards wouldn't make a move without his okay. 

But finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He had no idea where this strength, this defiance, was coming from. But he didn't doubt that she would do it.  Having to get another wife, over something as minor as a degree major, would be a setback he didn't want to bother with. At least right now.

"Fine." He gritted out. She kept glaring.

"Fine, what?"

"You will study. But you can pick what you want." The wheels turned in her head. A compromise. A slip. It was evident to everyone the power dynamic in the room had shifted. She slowly lowered the scissors. A small smile ghosted across her lips and before anyone could react she slammed the tip into the expensive wood of his desk. He jumped slightly but quickly covered with a stern facade. She had shaken him. And there was a slight insanity in her eyes now that was unsettling.

"Get her out of here!" He snapped calling his adviser in. He had to get control back.

"Find a replacement, just...." He took a deep breath. "Just in case. And make sure this time they're domicile!"

She kept her composure until she arrived back home. Her legs gave out as soon as she crossed the threshold and she felt tears leak from her eyes. She'd held it down but now the terror, the fear, all of it flooded through her body. She sank against the door crying. She won. So why couldn't she catch her breath?

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