Jungkook narrowed his eyes, stepping closer until he was only a breath away from her. “You know exactly what you’re doing?” he repeated, his voice low, teasing yet dangerous. “Then show me, princess. Prove it.”

Rose’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Prove what? That I’m not scared of you? Or that I can stand in front of Jeon Jungkook without trembling like everyone else?”

His jaw tightened. She was right—no one ever dared to speak to him like that. And yet here she was, standing tall, fire in her eyes, refusing to bend.

“You’re bold today,” he said, circling around her like a predator. “But boldness has its limits, Rose. What if I decide to cross the line again?”

For a moment, her chest tightened, remembering the unwanted kiss—but she masked it instantly, raising her chin with pride. “Then you’ll only prove that you’re weak, not strong. Strong men don’t need to force their will.”

Her words cut through him like a blade. His smirk faltered for the briefest second before returning, sharper this time. “Careful with your tongue, wifey. You might regret it.”

She gave him a cool glance and turned away, deliberately walking toward the vanity table. “Regret? The only regret I have is letting you think you can control me.”

Jungkook stood there, silent, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her defiance was intoxicating, maddening. Part of him wanted to crush it; another part… wanted to see how far she’d dare to go.

But what he didn’t know was that behind her calm face, Rose’s mind was racing. She had learned his biggest weakness—his obsession with control, with precision, with order. And she was already planning how to use it against him.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened at her defiance. His hands twitched slightly—he wasn’t used to being refused, especially not in his own house. For a moment, his anger almost spilled, but he drew in a deep breath and forced a smirk back onto his face.

From outside, a maid’s voice interrupted the silence. “Sir, dinner is ready.”

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on Rose. “Let’s go, wifey,” he said smoothly, as if nothing had happened.

But Rose folded her arms, tilting her head with a calm stubbornness. “I don’t want to. You go and eat. I’ll have my dinner here.”

His jaw clenched. “Ahh, you stubborn little…” He stopped, biting back the rest of his words. For a second, the atmosphere grew heavy.

Then, to her surprise, he chuckled under his breath and said, “Fine. If my princess wants her dinner here, then here it will be.”

He walked toward the door and told the maid, “Bring her dinner here.” His voice was calm, but the slight edge in his tone made every servant outside tremble.

When he turned back, he caught Rose’s proud smile. She had won this small battle, and she knew it.

Rose had just stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, a white towel wrapped around her slender frame. She walked toward the dresser casually, as if the room were hers alone.

The door clicked open, and Jungkook entered. His eyes instantly landed on her, and a smirk curved his lips. “What are you doing, wifey?” he asked in a low, teasing tone, leaning against the doorframe.

Rose turned her head slowly, meeting his gaze without a trace of fear. “Are you blind?” she replied coolly. “I’m wrapped in a towel, my hair is wet—obviously, I just took a shower.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Jungkook raised a brow, amused by her sharp tongue. He was used to people stammering in his presence, trembling under his stare. But here she was—unbothered, almost mocking him.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You really don’t get scared, do you?” His smirk deepened, but this time, it wasn’t out of arrogance—it was fascination.