The next morning, Bohyun sat in his home office, laptop open, scrolling through the high-res files from the shoot. Only the lingerie poses—none of the “duo” stuff Tae and Namjoon had captured later. Koo in tiny lace, ass arched, tits spilling, pussy lips outlined through sheer fabric. She looked like pure sex on a screen.

“Fuck, baby,” Bohyun muttered to himself, zooming in on one where she was on her knees, looking back with that sultry pout. “Of course you’re great at this. My wife’s the ultimate slut—body made for selling sin.” He adjusted his pants, half-hard just reviewing them. Proud as hell. The brand was gonna explode, and it was all thanks to his trophy.