My Ice-King : Hanamitchi

One Week Later.

The name Fernandez Corp had never held more weight.

The headlines still hadn't cooled down."Multi-Billion Corporate Scandal Exposed: Fernandez Heiress Leads Silent Takedown"

"Chairwoman Y/N Fernandez—The Iron Heir Who Burned Corruption Alive"

Inside the gleaming tower, everything had changed.

The halls, once buzzing with arrogance and false loyalty, now carried silence… and fear.

Every employee straightened when she walked by. Every board member showed up early. No one dared whisper anymore—except with permission.

Because she wasn't just the boss.

She was the storm.

And everyone knew it now—

Mess with her company, and she'd burn the world to the ground.

In the top-floor office that once belonged to her father, Y/N stood behind the massive glass desk. The same city skyline, the same marble floor… but everything else? Rebuilt in her image.

Her assistant knocked gently before stepping in, bowing slightly.

"Miss Fernandez ..The quarterly brief is ready."

She gave a faint nod. "Bring it in."

Behind her, a golden plaque had been mounted on the wall:

" The Legacy Remains."

In honor of Chairman Eduardo Fernandez.

As she sat, power emanated from her—not in noise, but in the way the room shifted around her presence.She was no longer trying to earn respect.

She was demanding it.

Three Days Later.

A spectacular announcement rocked both Fernandez Corp and Hanamitchi Group:

"Mr. Haru Hanamitchi to Host Grand Celebration Honoring Chairwoman Y/N Fernandez" 

The invitation was clear:

One Night Only.

Two empires.

One legacy.

Everyone knew the story—how Mr. Hanamitchi and the late Eduardo Fernandez were more than business allies. They were brothers in arms, men who built dynasties side by side. And now, Mr. Hanamitchi—respected, feared, and deeply private—was throwing the biggest celebration of the decade, all to honor the woman he now called daughter.

⸻

Fernandez Corp, 3:45 PM.

Buzz ran through every floor like electricity. Employees whispered by water coolers, fashion dilemmas were shared in group chats, and for once, the fear in the air was replaced by awe.

"Did you see the invite? Gold foil. Black seal."

"It's at The Velasquez Estate… that's where real royalty holds weddings."

"Y/N really is untouchable now. She's got Hanamitchi himself backing her."

Even the most powerful execs were nervous. Because tonight?

There would be no titles. No hierarchy.

Only those worthy enough to be in the presence of the two houses.

Y/N's Office.

Yuri leaned on the edge of her desk, watching her scroll through the guest list with a barely-hidden smirk.

"My old man really went all out."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "He made it sound like a business dinner. The media's calling it 'The Night of Thrones.'"

Yuri chuckled. "Well… You are the queen now."

She smiled softly—rare, but real.

"Then I suppose I should dress like one."

The Day of the Event

The Velasquez Estate, 7:03 PM

The estate had been transformed into a vision—a realm of light, legacy, and luxury.

The massive grand hall pulsed with a soft golden glow. From the arched marble ceilings, thousands of fresh flowers cascaded downward, suspended in delicate woven arches—roses, orchids, and midnight peonies, all stitched with shimmering threads of light. Crystal chandeliers spun gently above, catching every glint from the silver-edged glassware below.

The fragrance in the air was intoxicating—floral, regal, impossible to ignore.

Music swirled softly through the space: classical strings with modern undertones, setting a rhythm that whispered power.

The Guests Arrive

Powerful CEOs, politicians, fashion tycoons, media heads, and military executives—all arrived one by one, dressed in their finest.

Each name announced by the estate's herald.

But all eyes kept glancing toward the grand staircase—

Waiting for her.

Whispers echoed like wind:

"Have you met her in person?"

"They say she dismantled her enemies in a week."

"Hanamitchi treats her like blood. Imagine the weight of that name behind her."

Inside the Velasquez Estate

7:20 PM

The ballroom was now filling fast. Employees from both Hanamitchi Group and Fernandez Corp—usually buried in reports and deadlines—stood frozen in disbelief as they stepped onto marble floors that reflected the kaleidoscope of warm chandelier light.

The soft violin music made their steps feel surreal.

Clusters of murmuring began to bubble up.

"The event is so extravagant…"

"I've never seen this kind of setup outside of royal galas."

"Wait—Mr. Hanamitchi threw this for just Miss Fernandez?"

"Someone told me… she's not just a business heir. She's his real daughter. Biological."

"But I heard the late Chairman Fernandez adopted her?"

"Shut up—are you serious?"

"Maybe… that explains why they treat her like a queen."

Their eyes drifted toward the grand staircase that remained empty—waiting for her.

Earlier That Afternoon – 4:16 PM

Downtown Seoul, Alexander Haute Atelier

The black Maybach pulled up smoothly in front of an exclusive designer boutique draped in sheer gold curtains. The doors swung open, and out stepped Yuri Hanamitchi, dressed in sleek dark slacks and a pearl-buttoned collar shirt, exuding quiet dominance.

He turned, offering his hand.

Y/N slipped her hand into his.

Effortless. Intimate. Powerful.

"Today," Yuri said with a playful smirk, "I'm choosing your dress."

She raised an amused brow.

"Ok, Mr. Young Bossy… I'm all yours."

Fingers intertwined, they walked down the short red-carpeted steps, the boutique doors opening like gates to a palace.

Inside stood the legendary designer himself, Alexander—slim, elegant, with silver hair and round glasses tipped down his nose.

He gasped in delight.

"Finally! Miss Fernandez and our Prince Hanamitchi. I've cleared my schedule for you both. Follow me, darlings!"

The room transformed as they entered a private lounge, velvet sofas and antique mirrors surrounding a runway-like space filled with dresses—each more breathtaking than the next.

Yuri whispered, leaning close to Y/N's ear:

"No black today. I want the world to see you in color… glowing, alive, untouchable."

Alexander clapped.

"I have just the thing."

Inside Alexander's Atelier – Private Fitting Room

The clock ticks. The final strand is pinned.

A hush falls.

The curtain draws back.

And Y/N steps out.

Time seems to halt.

The overhead light softens to a single golden hue, spotlighting her like the unveiling of a goddess.

The dress clings to her form like it was born of stardust and stitched by silence. The bodice—an armor of crystal and mirrored fire—catches every flicker of light, scattering it like shattered stars across the room. It hugs her waist, defining power and grace in one breathless line.

From her hip, the ivory silk train flows like liquid moonlight across obsidian floors—its motion fluid, regal, alive.

And behind her, those glistening, sequined strands fall like a meteor shower caught mid-descent, whispering to the floor as she walks.

Yuri—sitting on the velvet chaise—stood the moment he saw her.

Not a word left his lips.

His chest rose and fell once.

Twice.

"Babe…"

His voice came out in a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the vision before him.

"You look like… destiny."

Alexander clapped once, near tears.

"Tonight," he said, "the world will forget every other woman… because you've arrived."

Later That Night

Velasquez Estate – Grand Staircase Entrance

7:47 PM

The crowd had settled, but the tension rose with every ticking second. All the guests—executives, employees, press, and powerhouses—now stood with their glasses mid-air, eyes locked on the grand staircase draped in soft white silk and lined with orchid petals.

The chandeliers dimmed again.

The orchestra stopped mid-note.

A single spotlight lit the landing.

As the spotlight softened into a warm gold, casting long shadows on the silk-draped steps, Y/N stood still at the top of the stairs for a breathless moment.

But this time—she wasn't alone.

Yuri appeared by her side.

Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit with a midnight-silk tie, his presence was magnetic. One hand slipped gently around her waist, the other reached for hers.

He leaned in close, whispered so only she could hear:

"Let's show them who we are."

And with that, they began to descend together.

Each step was deliberate, in perfect sync—like music unfolding without a sound. Her gown flowed around him like light wrapping royalty, and the glint in his eyes mirrored the fire in hers.

He didn't walk ahead of her.

He didn't walk behind her.

They walked as equals—an unshakable force.

People didn't just stare.

They bowed.

Phones were lowered.

Even whispers dared not rise.

At the Foot of the Grand Staircase

The chandeliers above shimmered like falling stars as the couple reached the base of the stairs.

Mr. Haru Hanamitchi—a man whose name echoed across industries—stood waiting, his eyes filled with pride. Dressed in a rich charcoal tuxedo with a lapel pin bearing both the Hanamitchi and Fernandez insignias, he stepped forward with open arms.

He first hugged Y/N, warmly and fiercely.

Haru (smiling):

"You look so… deadly gorgeous, my child."

He turned to Yuri, whose smirk was already forming.

Yuri (chuckling):

"Dad…"

Laughter trickled through the front rows, soft and intimate.

Then Haru gently took both their hands and guided them toward the stage, now lit in soft gold tones, a spotlight dancing over the family crest shining behind them.

He stepped up to the mic, the room silencing like an orchestra waiting on its conductor.

Haru Hanamitchi's Speech:

"Good evening, everyone."

"Thank you for coming to this very special night."

"Tonight, we are not just celebrating with champagne and flowers. We are honoring the triumphant return of someone very dear to me—Miss Y/N Fernandez."

"Over the past two years, Fernandez Corp has faced trials and shadows… but she has returned—stronger, sharper, and unshakably fierce. Let it be known here and now—no one, and I repeat, no one, shall disrespect her again. She is not only the rightful heir of the Fernandez name, she is my daughter in heart—and I am responsible for her from the day she steps into my house."

A powerful pause.

Then… he looked at the couple.

"And lastly…"

"This evening is more than just a welcome party."

Murmurs stirred across the ballroom.

"It is my great honor to announce that my one and only heir, Yuri Hanamitchi, and Y/N Fernandez—childhood companions bound not only by friendship but by loyalty, strength, and something far greater—are…"

He smiled.

"The most powerful couple I have ever seen."

"They are the future."

For a heartbeat—silence.

Then, the crowd broke.

Gasps. Whispers. Murmurs. Explosions of emotion.

Executives, elite socialites, long-time employees, and the curious eyes of the press all reacted like dominoes falling in shock.

"What the fuck—?!"

"Wait… they're not siblings?? They're a couple?!"

"No way! This is like a K-drama plot twist—unreal."

"Hold on! That means the heir of Hanamitchi and Fernandez… they're going to merge—in love?"

A woman from the PR department dropped her champagne flute.

A senior manager from legal froze mid-sip.

A young intern clutched her colleague's arm, wide-eyed.

"I thought they were just childhood friends!"

"Well, clearly there was chemistry—have you seen how he looks at her?"

"Oh my God… she's so out of everyone's league now."

And amidst the whispers, flashes, and stunned expressions…

Y/N and Yuri stood still. Calm. Glorious. Unapologetically powerful.

Yuri leaned in and whispered to her, lips barely touching her ear:

"Let them talk, babe.

Tonight… we make history."

She smiled. Bold. Untouchable.

The crowd was still buzzing—whispers turning to speculation, speculation to wonder.

Mr. Haru Hanamitchi, ever the bold patriarch, held up a hand. The room fell into a hushed murmur once more.

He turned slowly, looking at both Y/N and Yuri, his expression softening from business tycoon to mischievous father.

Haru (grinning wide):

"Now, if I may…"

"I'd like to ask both of my children something from the bottom of my heart."

The spotlight turned to the couple once again. Y/N tilted her head in curiosity. Yuri raised an eyebrow.

Haru folded his hands dramatically behind his back, then dropped the bomb with a playful smirk:

"Would you two… like to give me a grandchild?"

The room exploded.

Laughter, gasps, shocked chuckles—even waiters paused mid-step.

Y/N's eyes widened, heat rushing to her cheeks.

Yuri immediately covered his mouth with one hand, trying to stifle a laugh that broke anyway.

"Daaaaad—!" Yuri chuckled, shaking his head.

"You stole my line! Wasn't I supposed to be the one proposing here?"

Y/N gave him a playful nudge, biting her lip, half-laughing, half-hiding.

Haru simply waved a hand in the air, soaking in the attention.

Haru (smirking):

"Well… consider it a dual proposal. From me, to both of you. The world already sees you as royalty—why not seal it with legacy?"

The crowd was howling with delight now.

"Mr. Hanamitchi is the moment!"

"This is better than any drama!"

"We want wedding bells!"

The orchestra resumed, playing a light-hearted waltz, setting the stage for their first dance.

And in the center of the chaos, amid laughter and champagne—

Yuri turned to Y/N, took her hand again, and said with a wink:

"So what do you think, my future queen…Shall we start our empire with love and a little chaos?"

Y/N smiles.

But it's not just any smile.

It's the smile of a woman who has burned, survived, risen—and now chooses love.

She slides her hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing gently along the edge of his jaw.

Y/N (whispering with conviction):

"You will be… my one and only king, Yuri Hanamitchi."

The room melted away. The people. The chandeliers. The stage.

It was just them—the King and Queen of two legacies, finally united.

As they step into their first dance, the lights dim into a golden glow, casting soft halos around them. Her gown ripples like a crown's cape, and his arms wrap around her with a silent promise—

Under the Soft Lights of the Ballroom

With one arm gently around her waist and the other holding her hand, Yuri pulled Y/N closer, their bodies swaying to the soft rhythm of the waltz. The world felt like it was holding its breath just for them.

He leaned in, voice low, warm against her ear.

Yuri (softly, with that rare sparkle in his eyes):

"I will give you the most beautiful fairy tale wedding, Y/N."

"Not just fireworks and silk gowns… but a day where every moment feels like magic—your magic. Where the whole world stops to see my queen walk down the aisle."

Her eyes glistened, heart pounding louder than the music.

"Yuri…" she whispered, breath hitching.

But he gently cut her off with a soft smile.

"A thousand chandeliers won't shine as bright as you that day.

And I'll be waiting at the altar, knowing my forever is walking toward me."

And just like that—

The applause faded.

The murmurs vanished.

And all that remained was the sacred promise between two souls destined to rule and love.