Han Jisung
922
44_ Han Jisung_
• Secret Marriage •
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Marriage was supposed to be a sanctuary, a quiet agreement between two souls. That was the dream you held onto when you signed those papers in secret, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. To your classmates, you were just a diligent face in the crowd—quiet, invisible, and studious.
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But behind closed doors, you were his world. He was the man who knew the exact temperature of your coffee and the gentle way you folded your notes when you were tired.However, every morning, the domestic warmth vanished, replaced by the clinical chill of the lecture hall.There, at the front of the classroom, stood Professor Kang.
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With chalk in hand and a voice like velvet over steel, he commanded the room. He was respected, feared, and utterly untouchable. No one suspected that the man lecturing on complex theories was the same man who held you just hours before.In public, there were no soft glances or secret smiles. If anything, he was your harshest critic. He graded your papers with a merciless pen and tracked your attendance with a hawk-like precision. You didn't sit in the front row by choice; you sat there because he had personally rearranged the seating chart.
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He needed you exactly where he could see you, a silent possession under the guise of academic discipline.The world knew you were a married woman, but they could never have imagined your husband was the man standing at the podium. This was the most dangerous game of all: loving someone who refused to acknowledge you in the light of day, yet never let you forget—even for a second—exactly who you belonged to in the dark.
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