As the moon hung high in the ink-black sky, casting a silvery glow through the cracks of the storeroom, Taehyung leaned against the wooden shelves lined with forgotten relics of the Jeon family. The air was thick with the scent of dust and the whispers of secrets waiting to be uncovered. It was here, in this sacred space, that his dual life flourished—one as Minho’s adoring husband and the other as the clandestine object of desire for his brothers-in-law and the village men.

Tonight felt different; a thrilling electric tension crackled in the air, hinting at the possibility of new encounters. Taehyung's heart raced as he recalled the previous nights spent in the storeroom, the way the brothers' hands had roamed over his body, igniting a fire deep within him that he couldn't extinguish. But as he wrapped his fingers around the hem of his robe, another thought crept into his mind—what if tonight brought someone new?