A.nyx🍒

writer ࣪ ִֶָ☾. m.list ↴

[a-nyx-7]

✮ welcome to my blog ✮

Luxury. Obsession. Family secrets. The kind of love that ruins and rebuilds.

⋆ masterlist ⋆ wattpad ⋆ substack ⋆

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wattpad username - @Anyx_writes

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Ongoing works -

• Bad reputation ft. Jk

• Gilded Cage ft. Jk

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One shot requests are open <3

[a-nyx-7]

Bonus chapter

Synopsis : The daughter of a powerful politician lives a reckless, untouchable life until a steamy hook up with a man turns it into something she never imagined. He is the mafia everyone fears, and she is the chaos he cannot control...or forget.Bound by a past only he remembers, his obsession with her turns into a dangerous game of pursuit. But she isn't just a target—she's a storm, a little unhinged, and the only one who might ruin him first.

Genres - Mafia, politics, past, lovers, forbidden love, smut, dark romance.

Pairing - Mafia! Park Jimin x Politician daughter! Reader

Taglist - @graydolan12 @busanbby-jjk @mikrokookiex @jiminmins-blog @marylul @brieally @granataepfelchen @dahliadaenerys @ae12moonss @next-bex-bet @nayutalvr

The early morning sun peeked softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom. The house was dead silent, wrapped in that quiet serenity that only exists before the rest of the world wakes up.

Jimin was already awake.

Lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand, he was watching you. His eyes traced the soft features of your sleeping face, sliding down to the large, prominent swell beneath the duvet. Eight months pregnant, and you were glowing.

A tiny, uncomfortable line formed between your brows. You let out a quiet, breathless grunt, trying to roll over to shift your weight, but the heavy bump made it nearly impossible. Your hand blindly reached for the pillow behind you, struggling to find a comfortable angle.

Before you could fully wake up in frustration, Jimin moved.

With practiced gentleness, he slid his hand beneath your side, carefully helping you turn over onto your left side. He nudged a soft pillow behind your back to support you, then began to gently rub the small of your aching back. His warm thumb worked in slow, rhythmic circles against the tight muscle, soothing the tension away.

Your eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep. The moment you saw his smiling face close to yours, a soft pout formed on your lips.

"Were you watching me sleep again?" you muttered, your voice thick and raspy with sleep.

Jimin's grin widened, a faint spark of mischief in his eye. "You drool."

"Park Jimin!" You gasped, swatting weakly at his chest, though a tiny smile betrayed you.

He laughed softly, a low, rich sound that vibrated in his chest and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Good morning to you too, gorgeous."

He didn't let you struggle out of bed on your own. Sitting up, he gently helped you sit on the edge of the mattress, taking your time so you wouldn't get dizzy.

He reached for the hair tie on the nightstand, gathering your messy morning hair and skillfully tying it into a loose, soft bun so it wouldn't bother you.

When you swung your feet over the side, he was already kneeling on the floor, holding your slippers ready. He carefully guided your swollen feet into them, his thumb stroking your ankle softly before he stood up.

"Okay, up we go," he said, extending his hands.

"I can walk down the stairs, Jimin," you protested softly, though you took his hands anyway.

"Doctor's orders," he countered smoothly, not giving you a chance to argue. In one fluid, careful motion, he scooped you up into his arms, holding you securely against his chest.

"Jimin! Put me down, I'm heavy!"

"You're carrying my baby, you're not heavy," he hummed, unbothered as he carried you effortlessly down the stairs, making sure every step was steady.

Once he safely set you down on your feet in the living room, he immediately dropped back down to his knees in front of you. He leaned his forehead against your round belly, closing his eyes for a moment just to feel the quiet warmth radiating from it. He placed a soft, lingering kiss right over the middle of your bump.

"Good morning, little prince," he murmured against your shirt.

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. "It's a girl."

Jimin looked up, shaking his head with absolute conviction. "No way! The female domination in this house is killing me. I need a boy for emotional support from my wife and little devil."

You glared at him playfully, giving his shoulder a sharp slap. "Jerk."

Jimin raised a brow, a slow, teasing smirk spreading across his face. In a flash, he stood up and stepped into your space, gently trapping you between his arms against the back of the sofa. The playful air shifted instantly as his gaze darkened, his eyes dropping to your lips before locking back onto yours with an intense, burning warmth.

"Jerk?" he murmured, leaning down so close his breath fanned across your skin. He pouted his lips exaggeratedly, though his eyes were dark with affection. "You shouldn't call your husband a jerk."

Your eyes went wide at the sudden proximity, your heart doing a foolish little flutter despite the months of marriage.

"Jimin!" you burst out, breaking into a loud, genuine laugh as you rested your hands on his chest. "It's me who is pregnant! Why are you getting the mood swings!"

Jimin let out a bright, melodic laugh, the tension melting away as he pulled you into a tight, careful hug, resting his chin on top of your head, completely content in the quiet warmth of the morning.

Before Jimin could answer, the fast, pitter-patter sound of little footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"Daddy! Mommy!"

Six-year-old Min-jee came rounding the corner at full speed, her little pigtails bouncing with every step. She stopped right in front of the two of you, hands on her tiny hips, sporting a look of pure, unadulterated judgment that was a mirror image of your own.

"Are you two being dramatic again?" she asked, her sassy little voice sounding way too mature for her age. "Mommy is nine months big now. We don't have time for Daddy's silly mood swings!"

Jimin gasped softly, clutching his chest in dramatic betrayal. "Excuse me? Min-jee, I am your father."

"And I'm the big sister!" she declared proudly, puffing out her chest.

She completely ignored Jimin after that, sidestepping him to focus on her main priority, your belly. Her little face softened instantly as she knelt down on the carpet right beside your knees.

"Good morning, baby," Min-jee whispered, placing both of her small hands gently against the stretched fabric of your shirt. She leaned her forehead against your bump, right where Jimin had been resting just moments before. "Don't kick Mommy today, okay? Daddy says Mommy gets ouchies when you kick too hard."

As if responding to her voice, a sudden, prominent nudge pushed against your stomach from the inside.

"Ooh! She heard me!" Min-jee giggled, pressing a sweet, wet kiss right onto the spot where the baby had kicked.

You smiled softly, leaning back against the couch cushions, completely melted by the sight. "I think she really likes her big sister."

"Of course she does. I'm the favorite," Min-jee said matter-of-factly, standing up to dig into the pocket of her tiny denim overalls.

With great care, she pulled out two tiny, microscopic knitted booties, bright pink with yellow ducks and held them up like rare treasure.

"Look, Mommy! I found these in my dollhouse. I was keeping them safe," she explained, carefully resting the tiny socks on top of your bump. "She needs them so her toes don't get cold when she gets here tomorrow."

"Sweetheart, the baby isn't coming tomorrow," Jimin chuckled, crouching down beside his daughter and wrapping an arm around her small shoulders. "It could be a few more days."

Min-jee rolled her eyes dramatically, looking at you as if to say, can you believe him?

"Well, I told the baby to come tomorrow, so she's going to listen to me," Min-jee insisted.

Then, remembering something important, she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a chocolate chip cookie-half-eaten, with clear little teeth marks on one side.

"Here, baby," Min-jee said softly, holding the remaining half of the cookie right against your belly button. "I saved the best half for you because big sisters share. Eat it through the belly button so you grow big and strong."

Jimin bit his lip hard, trying and failing to suppress a snort of laughter. He covered his face with his hand, his shoulders shaking silently.

"Min-jee, baby," you smoothed down her hair with a fond, breathless laugh, "the baby can't eat the cookie through my belly button."

Min-jee blinked, looking back and forth between you, the cookie, and your bump with utter disappointment.

"Well... that's silly," she huffed, popping the rest of the cookie into her own mouth and chewing happily. "More for me then!"

Jimin laughed out loud, leaning over to kiss Min-jee's chocolate-smudged cheek before looking up at you with eyes full of warmth and soft affection. He reached out, wrapping one arm around Min-jee and placing his free hand over yours on top of the bump.

"See?" Jimin teased softly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Sassy just like her mom. I really am outnumbered."

"And don't you forget it," Min-jee chirped, snuggling closer into the three-way hug, her little hand resting proudly over the baby.

The door opened, revealing the family's broad-shouldered security guard, ready to escort Min-jee to her school. Standing at well over six feet with a sharp suit and a stoic expression, he looked like he could stop a truck with his bare hands.

Yet, as Min-jee strutted up to him, backpack slung over one shoulder, the poor man visibly straightened up, looking slightly nervous.

Min-jee put her hands on her little hips and gave him a sharp, scrutinizing look from head to toe. "Did you bring my favorite juice box today? Because yesterday you forgot, and I had to drink water like a peasant."

The guard cleared his throat, adjusting his tie nervously. "Y-yes, Miss Min-jee. I have it right here in the car."

"Good boy," she nodded approvingly, taking his offered hand as if she were royalty granting an audience.

You stood by the couch, resting a heavy hand on your nine-month bump, watching the exchange with wide eyes. "Min-jee! Be nice to him! You do not speak to adults like that, missy. Behavior check, right now!"

Min-jee paused at the doorway, turning back with a dramatic, heavy sigh. "Mommy, I am setting boundaries. It's important for my development."

Before you could even process the sheer audacity coming out of a six-year-old's mouth, Jimin stepped right up beside his daughter. He adjusted his stance, copying Min-jee's posture, and crossed his arms with matching smug energy.

"She's right, babe," Jimin said, nodding with absolute seriousness. "A leader must establish authority early. She's just displaying strong management skills."

Min-jee giggled, high-fiving her father's palm. "Yeah, Mommy! Daddy gets it!"

"Jimin!" you gasped, clutching your chest in genuine disbelief. "Are you taking her side?! She just intimidated a grown security guard!"

"Hey, team Park stays united," Jimin declared, wrapping his arm around Min-jee's shoulders as the two of them gave you the exact same cocky, crooked grin.

"Traitor," you pointed a finger at Jimin, your lower lip poking out into a hurt pout. "I am carrying your second child, suffering through back pain and swollen ankles, and you side with this little menace?"

Jimin's mischievous expression immediately melted at your pout. Seeing your dramatic sense of betrayal, he quickly leaned down to whisper in Min-jee's ear, "Okay, code red, Mommy's cute pout is out. Time to retreat."

Min-jee nodded in agreement. She blew you a big, sweet kiss from the door. "Love you, Mommy! Don't let the baby come without me!"

"Have a good day at school, little boss," Jimin called out as the guard practically scurried out the door to hold the car open for her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jimin turned back to you, raising his hands in surrender as he trotted over to the couch. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You know I'm completely at your mercy, right?"

"I feel so betrayed," you grumbled, though a tiny smile fought to break through as Jimin dropped to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your lap.

"Forgive me, baby" he mumbled against your stomach, making the baby kick right against his cheek. "See? Even the baby says I'm forgiven."

Jimin stood up from his knees, smoothing down his shirt with a soft, secretive smile playing on his lips. He cupped your face in his warm hands, his thumbs gently brushing over your cheekbones as his eyes locked onto yours with undivided warmth.

"Listen to me," he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that deep, comforting tone reserved only for you. "Tonight, after Min-jee goes to sleep, it's just you and me. I'm setting up a quiet date night right here in the house. Dim lights, your favorite food, no phones, no work. Just us... before our second little miracle arrives."

A gentle flutter bloomed in your chest. After years together, through every storm and triumph, the quiet depth of his love still had the power to make your breath hitch. The absolute trust between you was built on years of solid foundation, he was your home, your safest space.

"A date night sounds perfect," you softly agreed, leaning into his touch.

Jimin smiled, leaning down to press a tender, lingering kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, filled with a familiar warmth that instantly put your mind at ease.

When he pulled back, a soft buzz from your phone interrupted the quiet moment. You glanced down at the screen resting on the side table.

Mother: Are you taking meds well?

You stared at the message, a slight shift in your mood. Over the last two years, you had gradually let your mother back into your life, building a fragile, cautious bridge between you two. But boundaries were boundaries. You still didn't allow her to step foot into the estate, nor had she ever met Min-jee in person.

Whenever you met her, it was always at a neutral, public spot like a quiet café.

Jimin was never a fan of her either. His protective instincts ran too deep, and he never quite forgot the past. Even when you went to those coffee catch-ups, Jimin always ensured a few of his men kept a watchful eye from a discreet distance, just to make sure you were safe and comfortable.

You rolled your eyes, tossing the phone back onto the cushion. You looked up at Jimin. "My mom is being too nosy."

Jimin stepped back slightly, leaning his hip against the edge of the table as he tucked his hands into his pockets. Rather than taking the bait to complain about her, he looked at you with a calm, understanding expression.

"She's worried," Jimin said softly, his tone neutral and grounded. "You're due next week, babe."

°

The dim glow of fairy lights and flickering candles transformed the living space into a warm and romantic haven.

Outside, the night was quiet, but inside, the air was rich with the irresistible aroma of all your favorite comfort foods.

You walked out of the bedroom wearing a soft, loose pink dress that draped comfortably over your heavily pregnant form, proudly accentuating your nine-month bump. Your lower back was aching like absolute hell, a dull, relentless throbbing but having Jimin pamper you every step of the way made every bit of the discomfort bearable.

As you stepped into the room, you spotted Jimin standing near the set table, meticulously arranging a stunning bouquet of fresh flowers in a glass vase.

"What? Trying to make me fall in love all over again?" You chimed, resting a warm hand over the curve of your belly.

Jimin froze for a fraction of a second, a soft rose still held in his fingers, before a breathless, dimpled smile broke across his face. He turned around, his dark eyes sweeping over you with an intensity that instantly made the dull ache in your back fade into the background.

"Is it working?" he asked, his voice low and rich with affection.

He set the flower arrangement down and stepped toward you with unhurried grace, immediately sliding an arm around your waist to support your weight.

"You look breathtaking, my love," he whispered, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. "Though honestly, you're glowing so much I don't think we even need these candles."

You let out a soft laugh, leaning heavily into his side as he carefully guided you toward the dining table. He had already set up the chair with two plush cushions behind it to support your sore lower back.

"Flatterer," you teased softly, easing yourself down with a quiet sigh of relief. "You really went all out for this, didn't you?"

"Only the best for you," Jimin murmured, pulling his own chair right next to yours instead of sitting across the table, unable to tolerate the distance. He reached over, gently taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers through yours.

He looked at you for a long moment, taking in the soft pink dress, the round swell of your bump carrying your second child, and the peaceful smile on your face, his expression softening with years of profound love and unwavering devotion.

"No phones, no interruptions," Jimin said softly, his thumb tracing delicate circles over the back of your hand. "Just you and me tonight."

He took charge of everything, pulling off the dish covers one by one and serving the food himself. He reached for the glass pitcher and poured fruit juice for both of you, he had completely stopped drinking alcohol around you months ago, just so you wouldn't feel left out.

As he set the glass down, his dark eyes met yours. The candlelight flickered softly between you, reflecting in the warm, steady gaze you shared. Your eyes twinkled with pure, quiet happiness.

Scooping up a small portion of your favorite dish with a spoon, Jimin leaned in and brought it right up to your lips.

You cringed, leaning your head back slightly. "Stop being cringe, Jimin. So eww."

Jimin rolled his eyes playfully, not budging an inch with the spoon. "But you still love it, drama queen. Say ah now."

You couldn't hide the fond smile pulling at your lips. Opening your mouth, you let him feed you, the delicious warmth of the food making you hum in satisfaction.

"You know," you began, chewing thoughtfully while resting a hand over your bump, "right before she fell asleep, Min-jee asked me where the baby actually comes from."

Jimin let out a loud, sudden burst of laughter, nearly spilling his own drink. "Oh god. What did you tell her?"

"I told her the stork delivers it to the hospital," you laughed softly. "She looked at me like I was insane and said storks aren't licensed to carry humans."

"That's definitely my daughter," Jimin wheezed, shaking his head with a proud, dimpled grin.

As the quiet atmosphere settled back in, the conversation naturally drifted back to the one debate that had been running for the past nine months.

"We really should have checked the baby's gender," Jimin sighed, leaning his chin on his hand as he looked at your round belly. "I wanted to know who it is so badly."

You shook your head with a smirk, taking a small sip of your juice. "I want us to have the surprise. We have the ability to know the gender, but please, I want the thrill."

Jimin sighed dramatically, throwing his head back against his chair. "You are crazy. Thrill with the baby? Who does that?"

A quiet chime broke the soft mood. Jimin pulled out his phone, glanced at the screen for a brief second, and then immediately flipped it face down on the table.

You frowned, leaning back into your chair as your eyes narrowed. "Hiding something, husband?"

Jimin raised a single brow at your question, a slow, teasing smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Yes. My new girlfriend," he replied, his voice dripping with pure sarcasm.

You gasped loudly, grabbing your cloth napkin and hurling it right at his face. "Park Jimin!"

He caught the napkin with ease, bursting into a rich, melodic laugh that filled the warm room. Shaking his head, he stood up from his chair and walked over to a small table near the corner, picking up a sleek, velvet box.

"It's just work," he explained, walking back toward you. "I turned it upside down because I don't want to see those notifications right now and start thinking about business. Tonight is about us."

He popped the box open, revealing a exquisite diamond pendant locket glittering brilliantly against the velvet lining under the soft candlelight.

Your breath caught slightly, a tender smile spreading across your face. "You really are trying to make me fall in love all over again, aren't you?"

"Always," Jimin smiled softly.

He walked around your chair, his gentle fingers brushing your hair over to one side. You felt the cool touch of the chain against your skin as he expertly clasped it around your neck.

"I love you," he whispered close to your ear, his warm breath sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

You looked down at the glittering diamond sitting against your chest, your eyes widening in sudden realization. "Wait... is this...?"

Your mind flashed back to a night a few weeks ago when you were aimlessly doomscrolling in bed. Jimin had been out of town on a business trip, and in a wave of late-night pregnant mood swings, you had called him, whining about a gorgeous diamond chain you saw online. You hadn't thought much of it after that, but he had clearly remembered every single word.

Jimin stepped back in front of you, crossing his arms with a playful pucker of his lips. "You didn't say 'I love you' back!"

You chuckled, using the armrests to slowly push yourself up into a standing position, one hand instinctively supporting the underside of your heavy bump. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between your lips for a soft, deep kiss. It was hilariously tricky to get close enough with your huge bump in the way, making you both laugh softly against each other's mouth.

"Until death does us part, Park Jimin," you whispered softly, looking into his eyes.

Jimin's smile softened into pure warmth. His hand slowly slid down your arm, lacing his fingers tightly through yours. "Let's dance?"

You lightly punched his chest with your free hand. "Stop it. I can't dance with this bump!"

"Just a slow dance. I'll hold you, I promise," he murmured gently.

Right on cue, a smooth, velvety jazz melody began to float softly through the room's speakers.

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at his immaculate timing.

"When did you get into jazz?" you asked, amused.

Jimin merely shrugged, a secretive grin on his face as he guided you slowly onto the middle of the floor. He pulled you close, keeping one strong arm wrapped securely around your waist to bear most of your weight, moving both of you in a slow, rhythmic sway.

For a few moments, the world melted away. You were both smiling like complete fools, staring into each other's eyes, wrapped in years of unconditional love and comfort.

Until you took a slightly clumsy step and landed your heavy foot squarely on top of his shoe.

"Ah-baby! My feet!" Jimin let out a low, dramatic gasp, instantly freezing in place.

You rolled your eyes, pulling away and slowly walking back toward your chair, desperate to sit down and rest your aching back again. "Told you! I said I can't dance!"

Jimin limped slightly, shaking his head with an exaggerated wince. "Ouch. That actually hurts."

You settled back onto the cushioned chair, letting out a heavy sigh of relief as you rested your hands over your bump. "Stop being such a drama queen. Min-jee seriously learns all of this from you.

You've had way worse wounds in your life, you were literally on your deathbed twice! Don't tell me a pregnant woman stepping on your foot hurts. Idiot."

Jimin stopped his dramatic limping, a bright, dimpled laugh bursting out of him as he walked over and leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss straight onto your forehead.

Jimin didn't even bother defending himself. He just chuckled, leaning down to press one more sweet, linger-filled kiss right to the tip of your nose.

"Guilty as charged," he murmured, his voice soft as he pulled up his chair and sat right beside you again.

He didn't say anything more for a moment, letting the soothing jazz music fill the quiet room. Reaching out, he gently lifted your feet one by one, placing them comfortably onto his lap. His hands, warm and strong, immediately went to work massaging your swollen ankles and the tired arches of your feet, applying just the right amount of pressure.

A soft, helpless sigh escaped your lips, all your sass melting away in an instant.

"Okay, fine... that feels amazing."

"I know," Jimin grinned softly, his eyes reflecting the warm glow of the candlelight. "I've had nine months of practice."

You leaned your head back against the cushioned chair, watching him through heavy, sleep-dusted eyelids. The quiet hum of the house, the gentle rhythm of his thumb against your foot, and the steady weight of your second baby resting inside you brought a sudden, overwhelming wave of peace.

After a few minutes of quiet pampering, Jimin carefully set your feet down. He stood up, gently wrapping his arms around you to help you stand before scooping you up into his arms one last time for the night. You rested your head against the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of his cologne.

He carried you into the dark bedroom, setting you down on the soft mattress with extreme care. After tucking you in under the duvet, he climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close so your back was pressed against his chest.

His broad hand rested gently over the prominent curve of your nine-month bump, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

"Thank you," Jimin whispered into the quiet darkness, his fingers lightly stroking your belly.

"For what?" you murmured, already half-asleep.

"For everything," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "For Min-jee, for this little one, and for loving me."

You smiled into the dark, reaching down to lace your fingers through his over your stomach. "Always, Jimin."

°

The sharp, authoritative ring of six-year-old Min-jee's voice echoed into the living room the next morning, cutting right through your quiet morning routine.

"I told you, I want the strawberry juice today! Not the apple! Go back and get it!"

You walked out toward the hallway, one hand firmly supporting your heavy nine-month bump, to find Min-jee standing in front of the broad-shouldered security guard with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

The poor man looked utterly defeated, holding out an unopened apple juice box like a peace offering.

"Min-jee Park!" Your voice cracked through the foyer like a whip.

Min-jee jumped slightly, her little shoulders tensing as she spun around to look at you.

"That is enough!" you scolded, your tone stern and completely unyielding. "He is an adult, and he is here to protect you, not to be your butler. You apologize to him right now and take the apple juice, or you're losing your tablet for a whole week!"

Min-jee's mouth dropped open in shock. Her big, dark eyes, so much like Jimin's, wimpered with sudden betrayal. Tears welled up in her lower lashes, her lip trembling as her little ego took a massive hit.

"I hate apple juice!" she wailed, stomping her small foot on the floor. "You're mean, Mommy!"

Before you could say another word, she turned on her heel and sprinted back deeper into the house, her little sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as she went off to hide.

You let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing your forehead. "I'm so sorry," you apologized to the guard, who offered a quiet, polite nod before stepping outside to wait by the car.

Give it twenty minutes, you thought. Once her dramatic little burst of anger cooled down, she'd be ready for a hug.

Nearly half an hour passed. Holding your aching lower back, you slowly stood up from the sofa. "Min-jee?" you called out, your voice echoing through the quiet hallway. "Sweetheart, come out. It's time for school."

Silence.

You sighed, beginning your slow trek through the estate to find her usual hiding spots. You checked behind the heavy living room drapes, under the dining table, and inside the playroom, but she wasn't there.

Waddling down the long corridor, you pushed open the heavy mahogany door to Jimin's home office. "Min-jee? Are you in here?"

The room was completely empty. The quiet hum of the air conditioner and the smell of Jimin's cologne hung in the air.

Just in case she was playing her favorite game, you walked over to his massive oak desk.

Leaning forward as much as your huge belly would allow, you tried to peer into the footwell beneath the desk.

In the process of trying to balance yourself, your hand brushed against a thick, unlabelled manila folder resting on the edge of the desk. The folder slipped, clattering onto the hardwood floor and spilling its contents face-up right at your feet.

"Shoot," you muttered, instinctively starting to reach down, before stopping dead in your tracks.

Your heavy nine-month bump made it impossible to bend down and pick them up, but you didn't need to. The bright daylight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the glossy photographs scattered across the floor with brutal clarity.

Your heart took a sudden, violent plunge.

It was your father.

Your father, the man who was supposed to be serving a strict ten-year sentence in a high-security prison. The man who wasn't supposed to see the light of day for years to come.

Except, in these photos, he wasn't wearing a prison uniform. He wasn't behind bars.

He was sitting in a dimly lit, high-end bar room, dressed in a sharp suit. In one photo, he was holding a glass of scotch, laughing with someone off-camera. In another, he was standing near the doorway, casually talking on a cell phone. The date stamp in the bottom corner of the pictures was from just three weeks ago.

Your breath caught in your throat, a sudden wave of ice running through your veins.

He's out?

Your mind raced, spiraling into a chaotic blur of confusion and dread. How was he out? Who let him out?

And most importantly... why were these photos sitting on Jimin's desk?

Jimin the pain that man had caused you, the endless sleepless nights, the danger he posed to your peace. Yet Jimin had never mentioned a single word about this. He had sat across from you last night, feeding you, holding you, smiling at you... all whwhile keeping this hidden right under your roof.

Why didn't Jimin tell you? What was he hiding?

Stepping out of the office, your hands were shaking as you pulled out your phone and dialed her number. The ringing only lasted two seconds before she picked up.

"I know he is out," you said immediately. It wasn't a question. It was a cold, sharp statement.

Silence heavy enough to suffocate stretched across the line.

"Did you meet him?" you asked, disbelief bleeding through your voice. "Speak!"

"Y/n..." Your mom's voice came through low and tremulous. "I... he came over to the house a month back."

"It's been a month since he's out?!" You yelled into the phone, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the empty hallway.

"Y-yes..."

"You let him come inside?" Your voice broke, wavering with a wave of absolute betrayal. With nine months of hormones coursing through your body, the sudden shock hit you like a physical blow.

Everyone was keeping secrets. Everyone was hiding things from you. "You hid this from me!"

"Listen to me-"

"No! He cheated on you for years! He used you! He controlled both of us for money, and you just welcomed him back inside?!"

A choked sob broke from your mother on the other side of the line. "No... he... he barged in... I didn't have the power to stop him, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I... I should have told you, but... he has been asking about you. About your husband... about your daughter. He was beating me-"

"He beat you?!"

The air left your lungs in an instant. You couldn't form another word, your throat completely drying up. The world felt like it was spinning on its axis. Without another word, you cut the call, phone slipping loosely in your hand as tear after tear spilled over your eyelashes and tracked down your pale cheeks.

You wiped at your face blindly with the back of your hand, turning around-only to freeze.

Min-jee was standing a few feet away, her backpack slung over her shoulders, staring up at you with wide, innocent, terrified eyes.

"Mumma?" her tiny voice trembled. "Are you hurt? I'm sorry. I won't be bad... don't cry."

Seeing the tears streaming down your face, her own sweet little face crumpled, and she burst into quiet, sniffling tears herself.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You shook your head rapidly, forcing yourself to sink down onto the nearest hallway sofa. Supporting your heavy bump with one arm, you opened your free arm wide for her.

"No, Min-jee..."

She sprinted into your lap, burying her small face into the crook of your neck as she sobbed. You wrapped your arms tightly around her, burying your cheek into her hair.

"Mumma is okay, baby. Don't cry, okay? Everything is good," you whispered softly, forcing your voice to stay steady as you pressed a long, loving kiss to her tear-stained cheek. You managed a tiny, comforting smile just for her. "Go to school now, okay? We'll watch a movie together the moment you get back in the evening."

Min-jee sniffled, using her tiny sleeve to wipe her nose. She nodded obediently, leaning up to press a soft, sweet kiss right on your cheek. "Okay, Mumma."

She turned and ran out the front doors toward the waiting security guard, leaving you sitting alone in the quiet corridor, your mind racing as the heavy reality of everything slowly began to settle in.

Later in the evening, the heavy oak doors opened as Jimin arrived back at the estate. Exhaustion lingered on his face, but it softened the second he stepped inside. Loosening his tie with one hand, he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled them up his forearms.

He spotted you sitting by the dining table, quietly eating a small bowl of fruit. A soft, affectionate smile tugged at his lips as he walked over.

"Where's our little devil?" he asked smoothly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You didn't answer. You didn't even look up at him. Instead, you let out a long, shuddering breath and slammed your spoon onto the glass table with a sharp, firm sound.

Jimin's smile vanished instantly. His posture straightened, his sharp eyes searching your cold, unreadable expression.

"You're hiding things from me, Jimin."

Confusion flickered across his face for a fraction of a second, until your eyes locked onto his, raw with hurt and anger. Realization hit him like a physical blow. His jaw tightened.

"I thought we were a team," your voice broke, rising into a furious yell that vibrated through the high ceilings of the house. "You hid this from me! For a whole fucking month?! He's out of prison, and you didn't say a single word!"

The sudden outburst caused the nearby maids to freeze mid-task, wide-eyed hushes falling over the room as they looked between the two of you.

Jimin grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white as his hands clenched into tight fists. He cast a sharp, terrifying glare at the staff. Without waiting for a second command, the maids quickly scurried out of the room, shutting the double doors behind them.

The moment they left, Jimin took a step toward you. "Y/n-"

"Stay back!" you snapped, your hand instinctively dropping to support the underside of your heavy belly. "He was abusing my mother this whole time! You could have told me! I could have arranged proper protection for her!"

"I didn't know he was going near your mother-"

"But you have men tracking his every move, don't you?!"

"Y/n, listen to me, please," Jimin urged, his voice desperate as he tried to keep his tone grounded. "I wasn't trying to deceive you-"

"I am not in the mood for your stupid excuses!" You pushed yourself up from the chair with sheer rage, your body trembling.

Jimin raised his hands, his eyes darting down to your round bump with overwhelming concern. "Don't do this right now. Please, the stress isn't good for you or the baby-"

You shook your head violently, refusing to let him speak. "Don't talk to me!"

You turned around to leave the room, but in two quick strides, Jimin cut you off, standing squarely in front of you to block your path.

"Stop being irrational!" he barked, his voice firm, low, and laced with suppressed frustration. "I was worried about your health! You're nine months pregnant! I didn't want you spiraling over a man who never cared about you!"

Your eyes welled up with hot, burning tears. "Health or not! It's my family! I deserved to know!"

"Family?!" Jimin snapped back, the exhaustion and frustration finally snapping his control. His hair was messy, his collar unbuttoned as he looked down at you. "You cut them off years ago! Why do you suddenly care so much now?!"

The air left your lungs. Your eyes widened in pure, utter shock at his cold words.

The moment the sentence left his mouth, Jimin froze. He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy, regretful sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, completely messing it up. "Fuck... Y/n, I didn't mean that."

"Leave me alone!"

With all the force your trembling body could muster, you shoved him back against his chest. Startled, Jimin stepped back, and you pushed past him, heading straight for the stairs as tears finally overflowed down your cheeks.

Jimin stood frozen in the middle of the empty dining hall, watching your retreating figure disappear up the staircase. A wave of pure, unfiltered rage and self-hatred washed over him.

Turning to the nearest concrete pillar, he slammed his bare fist straight into the wall with a sickening crack. Knuckles splitting, blood began to trickle down his skin, but he didn't even flinch.

Cursing harshly under his breath, he turned on his heel, snatched his coat off the chair, and stormed out of the house into the cold night.

°

It was 12 AM.

You were lying in the middle of Min-jee's bed, her small body curled tightly against your side. After the explosive fight with Jimin, you couldn't bring yourself to sleep in your shared bedroom. The emotional exhaustion had eventually pulled you into a light, restless sleep, until a subtle, unnatural sound pulled you back to consciousness.

Your eyes snapped open. The room was pitch black, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the blinds.

It wasn't the usual quiet hum of the house. It was the faint, deliberate sound of slow footsteps echoing from the hallway outside.

Instinct took over before fear could paralyze you. Slowly, carefully, you slid out from under the covers, making sure not to disturb Min-jee. Your lower back throbbed sharply, your heavy nine-month belly making every movement feel weighed down, but the adrenaline rushing through your blood drowned out the pain.

Your eyes darted to the nightstand where a small utility knife sat, left over from opening packages earlier that day. Snatching it up, you flipped the blade open, your trembling hand gripping the handle as hard as you could.

You took two quiet steps toward the door, intending to check the hallway-

A tall, shadowy figure stepped directly into the doorframe.

A gasp caught in your throat, your voice instantly choking as a bloodcurdling scream tried to escape. In the dim light, you saw a masked man holding a suppressed pistol.

"Quiet," the man growled, stepping into the room.

He made the mistake of looking toward the bed and in that fraction of a second, you lunged.

Driven by pure motherly instinct, you drove the utility knife forward, plunging it straight into his shoulder. The man hissed out a harsh curse, dropping his gun as he grabbed your arms, shoving you violently back against the wall.

"Mommy?!" Min-jee's voice shrieked from the bed, terrified and wide awake.

"Min-jee, stay down!" you screamed, using all your weight to shove the man off you.

Despite your heavy bump restricting your movements, you fought like a cornered animal. When he grabbed your wrist to wrench the knife away, you brought your heavy knee up into his groin with everything you had.

He doubled over with a breathless groan, and before he could recover, you grabbed his head and brought his face smashing down onto the sharp edge of the wooden nightstand.

He stumbled back, dazed, blood pouring from his nose. You didn't hesitate. Stepping in close, you drove the blade deep into the side of his neck.

The man choked, staggering backward before collapsing onto the floor in a lifeless heap.

Breathing in ragged, terrified gasps, your body shook uncontrollably. You dropped the knife, turning to the bed where Min-jee was sobbing hysterically, her little hands covering her eyes.

"Min-jee, baby, look at me," you whispered desperately, kneeling down to scoop her tiny, trembling body into your arms. "It's okay. Mumma's got you. Keep your eyes closed, okay? Don't open them."

Holding Min-jee tightly against your chest with one arm while shielding your heavy bump with the other, you carefully stepped over the body and hurried out into the dark hallway.

The estate was eerily quiet. As you reached the top of the grand staircase and looked down into the main living hall, your heart sank into your stomach.

Three of your security guards were slumped on the floor, unconscious-or worse. The front doors stood wide open, letting in the freezing night air.

Panic seized your throat. You fumbled in your pocket for your phone, your bloody, trembling fingers barely able to swipe the screen.

You hit Jimin's speed dial, raising the phone to your ear while slowly backing down the stairs, trying to reach the back exit.

"Come on, Jimin... answer, please..." you sobbed under your breath.

"Y/n?" Jimin's frantic, breathy voice suddenly erupted through the speaker.

"Y/n, where are you? I'm driving back right now, I'm so sorry, babe, I-"

"Jimin! They're inside the house!" you screamed into the receiver. "They took down the guards! Min-jee and I-"

Thud.

A heavy hand suddenly snatched your hair from behind, jerking your head back violently. You dropped the phone, a sharp scream tearing from your throat as you fell backward onto the stairs.

"Y/n?!" Jimin's frantic roar echoed faintly from the dropped phone on the floor. "Y/n?!"

A second masked man hauled you up by your shoulder, pulling a combat knife from his belt.

"Mommy!" Min-jee shrieked, scrambling backward on the stairs, terrified out of her mind.

You didn't have time to think. With your back pressed against the stair railing, you swung your arm back, slamming your elbow straight into the man's jaw. His grip loosened just enough for you to twist out of his grasp.

As he lunged at you with the knife, you grabbed his wrist, leaning all your weight into him to force the blade away from your belly.

You slammed him hard against the wooden railing, the sheer force of the impact rattling the entire staircase as you fought with every ounce of strength left in your body to survive.

Before the second attacker could regain his balance, the heavy mahogany front doors were kicked wide open with a deafening crash.

"Clear!"

Shouts echoed through the high-ceilinged foyer as a tactical squad of Jimin's security forces swarmed the estate like a wave of pure wrath. Gunfire flared in sharp, controlled bursts, instantly neutralizing the remaining intruders. Within seconds, the chaotic room was subdued under heavy boots and barking orders.

You collapsed back against the wooden steps, your strength completely giving out. You were panting in ragged, shallow gasps, your hands shaking violently, stained dark with blood. The soft pink dress was torn and smeared red, clinging to your heavy nine-month belly.

Then, a sudden, blinding agony tore through your lower abdomen and back.

It wasn't just the dull ache from earlier, it was a brutal, searing contraction that felt like your entire body was splitting in two. Thetrauma and adrenaline had forced your body into immediate labor.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Min-jee sobbed, crawling toward you on her hands and knees, terrified by the blood on your dress.

Footsteps thundered through the entrance.

"Y/n!"

Jimin sprinted into the estate, his eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated terror. He didn't even look at the mess of blood, the collapsed intruders, or his men taking control of the scene. His entire world narrowed down to the staircase, to you and his weeping daughter.

Min-jee scrambled down the remaining steps straight into his path. Jimin dropped to his knees, scooping her up into a tight, desperate embrace for a fraction of a second, his hands trembling against her back.

"Daddy's here, baby, Daddy's here," he choked out, his voice cracked and raw.

He didn't waste another second. Holding Min-jee securely with one arm, he rushed up the steps to where you were slumped against the railing.

"Babe... oh God, babe, look at me," Jimin pleaded, dropping down right beside you. His face was deathly pale, his eyes frantic as his free hand hovered over your blood-stained body, terrified of hurting you further. "Are you hit? Where are you hurt?!"

"J-Jimin... I..."

You grabbed his shirt collar, your knuckles white, as another agonizing wave of pain ripped through your womb.

A sharp, piercing scream tore from your throat. You doubled over, clutching the underside of your belly, tears bursting from your eyes as the contractions hit back-to-back without mercy.

"It's the baby!" you gasped, your breath hitching in pure agony. "Jimin... the baby is coming now!"

Jimin's breath hitched in his throat. The sight of your blood-stained hands, the tears pouring down your face, and the agonizing screams tore his heart to shreds.

"I've got you," Jimin whispered desperately, his voice thick with emotion as he slid his arms beneath you, lifting you off the stairs as carefully as he could while Min-jee held tightly onto his neck. "I'm right here, my love. I've got you."

The heavy SUV tore through the iron gates of the estate, its tires screeching against the wet pavement as two security vehicles flanked it, escorting you through the dark, quiet streets.

Up in the front passenger seat, Min-jee was curled into a small ball, clutching her knees to her chest. Tears streamed endlessly down her face as her small shoulders shook with terrifying, silent sobs. The guard at the wheel drove with frantic precision, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, running every single red light as he sped toward the hospital.

You were lying across the wide leather seat, your head resting heavily in Jimin's lap. Another violent contraction tore through your abdomen-a searing, blinding pain that made your entire body lock up.

A sharp, breathless scream tore from your throat, your fingers digging so hard into the fabric of Jimin's trousers that your knuckles turned completely white.

"I know, baby, I know. Squeeze my hand, squeeze it as hard as you can," Jimin pleaded, his voice cracking with pure desperation.

He didn't care about the pain in his fingers. He didn't care about the dark blood smearing onto his shirt from your dress. His free hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you close to his chest while his thumb frantically wiped away the cold sweat and tears pouring down your face.

"Drive faster!" Jimin roared at the guard, his eyes wild with terror as he looked down at your pale, writhing form. "Drive fucking faster!"

"Jimin... it hurts-it hurts so bad!" you sobbed, gasping for air between the relentless waves of labor. Your hips bucked slightly against the seat as your body tried to push, the sheer physical toll bringing you to the absolute brink.

"I'm right here, my love. Look at me, keep your eyes on me," Jimin whispered, leaning down so his forehead pressed against yours. His voice was shaking, tears welling in his own dark eyes as he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your temple-anywhere his lips could reach. "You're doing so well. You're so strong. Just breathe for me, please, babe... just breathe."

From the front seat, Min-jee's hiccuping sob broke through the sound of the blaring engine. "D-Daddy... is Mommy gonna be okay?"

"Mommy is going to be fine, Min-jee!" Jimin called out, trying to keep his voice steady for her even as his own heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. "Look out the window, sweetie. Don't look back here. We're almost at the hospital."

You let out another agonizing cry, your head thrashing against his thigh as another blinding contraction hit back-to-back.

"Jimin!" you gasped, your breath hitching dangerously as your vision blurred with tears.

"I've got you, I've got you," Jimin sobbed quietly, lacing his fingers tightly through yours and bringing your bloody hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles again and again. "Don't let go of me, Y/n. Just stay with me."

The heavy glass doors of the hospital burst open, and the frantic chaos of the night swept into the sterile, white halls.

Emergency staff rushed forward with a gurney, surrounding you instantly.

Outside, a tight perimeter was immediately established. Security guards swarmed the entrance, securing every exit, hallway, and floor until the entire building was under absolute lockdown.

Min-jee, wrapped in a large, warm jacket, was gently guided to a private waiting lounge under the watchful guard of Jimin's most trusted men, her tear-stained face finally settling as she was assured her mother was safe.

°

You were thrashing against the delivery bed, your head turning side to side as sweat soaked your hair, plastering it to your forehead. Blinded by tears and searing, bone-shattering agony, you gripped Jimin's hand with a terrifying, desperate strength, your nails digging deep into his skin.

"Fucking idiot, Park! This is all because of you!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, your voice raspy and broken as another intense contraction tore through your body. "I told you! It hurts! Why the hell did you get me pregnant again?!"

Jimin didn't care about his hand, nor did he care about the burning scratches on his skin. He leaned down over you, his eyes brimming with helpless tears as he continuously kissed your sweaty forehead, your temple, and your burning cheeks.

"I know, I know. It's my fault," he whispered desperately, his voice thick and raw. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so, so sorry."

"You motherfucking bastard!" you sobbed out, kicking your feet against the stirrups in sheer agony as the pain reached a terrifying peak.

The doctors and nurses exchange nervous glances, working frantically under the intense pressure of both the medical emergency and the imposing presence of Park Jimin standing right beside them.

"Mrs. Park, please, one more big push!" the doctor urged, her voice taut with urgency. "We can see the head! Push!"

You gripped Jimin's neck, pulling him down as you gathered every last drop of strength remaining in your exhausted body. Tears streamed down your face in hot, continuous rivers as you screamed-a raw, gut-wrenching sound that echoed off the cold walls.

Right beside your ear, Jimin kept his face pressed against yours, his arms holding you upright, his steady voice cutting through the noise. "You can do this, Y/n. You're so strong, my love. My brave, perfect girl... I'm right here with you. Just a little more."

"Motherfucking Jimin! Don't you dare ever touch me again!" you shrieked, throwing your whole body into one final, agonizing push.

A breathless scream tore from your chest and then, suddenly, the pressure vanished.

A loud, piercing cry echoed through the room.

The doctor let out a heavy breath, a wide smile breaking out behind her mask.

"The baby is out!"

Your head fell back against the pillows, your gasping breath slowing down as complete, overwhelming exhaustion washed over you. Your eyes fluttered shut, heavy with fatigue and relief.

Jimin let out a ragged breath of his own, a brilliant, tearful smile breaking across his face. He leaned down, repeatedly kissing your flush cheek and tenderly wiping the damp hair from your forehead. "You did it, babe... you did it. I love you so much. God, I love you so much."

°<

The nurse quickly cleaned the crying newborn and wrapped him in a soft blue blanket before handing him carefully over to the father.

Jimin held the tiny, squirming bundle against his chest, his hands trembling as he looked down at the soft, scrunched-up face of his child. A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, tears blurring his vision.

"It's a boy," Jimin whispered softly, leaning close to your ear so you could hear him over the baby's steady cries.

Slowly, heavily, your eyelids fluttered open. You looked at the little boy resting securely in Jimin's arms, then looked up at Jimin's radiant, tear-streaked face.

A tiny, weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

"You got your emotional support... fucker," you murmured softly.

°

The quiet hum of the private hospital room was a soft, comforting contrast to the storm of the night before. Golden sunlight poured through the large glass windows, filling the space with a gentle warmth.

You were propped up comfortably against a pile of plush pillows, wearing a clean gown. The dull, heavy ache in your body remained, but looking at the tiny, peaceful bundle sleeping soundly in the bassinet beside your bed made the lingering pain fade into the background.

Jimin stepped back into the room after escorting the doctors out, softly closing the heavy door behind him.

For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you. The sharp suit from yesterday was gone, replaced by a casual sweater, but his eyes carried the weight of everything that had transpired.

He walked over slowly, pulling up a chair right beside your bed. Taking your hand in his, he brought your knuckles to his lips, holding them there for a long, heavy moment.

"Y/n..." he began, his voice low and thick with genuine remorse. "Before Min-jee comes in, I need to tell you something."

You looked at him quietly, your fingers twitching softly in his grasp.

"Your father," Jimin said, his dark eyes locking onto yours with absolute transparency. "My men caught him up early this morning. He's in my hands now, babe. He won't ever step near you, your mother, or our children again. I'm going to take care of it personally, and I promise you, he will never be a threat to this family again."

He let out a long, shaky breath, leaning his forehead against the back of your hand.

"I'm so sorry for hiding it from you," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought I was protecting you from the stress because of the baby, but I was wrong. I broke your trust when I should have had your back. I am so, so sorry, my love."

Looking down at his messy hair and the genuine pain in his eyes, the anger that had consumed you yesterday finally melted away into a quiet relief. You gently turned your hand in his, lacing your fingers through his tightly.

"Just... don't ever keep things from me again, Jimin," you murmured softly. "We're a team."

Jimin looked up, a raw, beautiful smile breaking across his face as he kissed your palm. "Never again. I promise."

A gentle knock on the door broke the heavy silence.

The door creaked open, and Min-jee peeked her head in, holding a guard's hand. She was dressed in her favorite bright yellow dress, her little face a mix of awe, excitement, and a lingering touch of shy hesitation. Her big eyes scanned the room, landing on you first.

"Mommy?" she whispered softly, stepping timidly toward the bed.

"Come here, my sweet girl," you held out your free arm, a tired but radiant smile lighting up your face.

Min-jee didn't hesitate. She carefully scrambled onto the side of the bed, burying her face into your side for a long, quiet hug. You wrapped your arm around her, kissing the crown of her head repeatedly while Jimin stood beside the bed, his hand resting softly over your shoulder, watching his two girls with profound peace.

"Are you all better now, Mommy?" Min-jee asked, pulling back slightly to look at you.

"All better, baby. Mumma just needed some rest," you assured her gently, smoothing back her hair. "Do you want to meet your baby brother?"

Min-jee's eyes went wide as saucers. "He's really here?"

Jimin chuckled softly, leaning down to scoop the tiny, blanket-wrapped infant out of the bassinet. He sat down on the edge of the mattress right next to you, lowering his arms so Min-jee could get a clear look.

Min-jee leaned in, holding her breath as she stared at the scrunched-up, soft face of her little brother. He let out a tiny, soft squeak, his microscopic fingers twitching against the blue blanket.

"He's so small..." Min-jee gasped in a hushed whisper, as if loud words might break him. She carefully reached out a single finger, gently brushing it against his tiny cheek. "He looks like a little potato."

You and Jimin both burst into quiet, breathless laughter.

"Hey, be nice to my emotional support partner," Jimin teased gently, nudging her shoulder. "He's going to help us deal with Mommy's mood swings."

You rolled your eyes, swatting Jimin's arm softly. "Don't start teaching him your bad habits already, Park."

"I'm serious!" Min-jee declared, puffing out her chest as she carefully rested her hand over the baby's tiny tummy. "I'm the big sister now. I'm going to teach him how to run the house with me."

Jimin shook his head with a fond, dimpled smile, leaning over to press a sweet kiss against your temple before resting his forehead against yours. His hand slipped over yours, lacing your fingers together right above the baby.

The chaos of the past, the secrets, and the fear had finally cleared away, leaving behind the quiet, unbreakable warmth of the family you had built together.

"Thank you, Y/n," Jimin whispered softly into the quiet room, his dark eyes brimming with unconditional love and absolute devotion. "For everything."

You smiled, squeezing his hand tightly as Min-jee softly giggled beside you, leaning her head against your arm while watching her baby brother sleep.

"Always, Jimin. Always."

[a-nyx-7]

GILDED CAGE | JEON JUNGKOOK

PART 9

You were raised behind locked doors, hidden from a world that was never supposed to know your name. But secrets have a way of finding the wrong people, and when Jeon Jungkook does, your freedom comes with a ring... and a war. Pairing : mafia! JK x f.reader Genre : mafia au, political marriage, secret heir, syndicate, dark romance, secrets, drama, angst, eventual smut, dark themes, drugs, underworld syndicate. Taglist : @nayutalvr @jungkookgoodlookin @zaf3ira @celest-pluto @prxdajeon @firstdivisiongirl @jksusawife @tremendousstarlighttragedy @mar-lo-pap

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A massive crystal chandelier hung low over the long dining table, casting a sterile light over the immaculate gold-rimmed porcelain plates and polished silverware.

You sat stiffly on one side of the table, wearing a conservative, perfectly ironed silk dress the maids had picked out to appease the old woman. Jungkook sat at the head of the table, looking effortlessly regal as he cut his medium-rare steak with precision. Madam Jeon sat opposite you, her posture as rigid as a stone pillar, her sharp eyes tracking your every single movement.

"A woman of high society does not rest her elbows on the wood, Y/n," Madam Jeon remarked coldly, barely touching her glass of red wine. "And your posture is slouching. Have the Jungs taught you absolutely nothing about etiquette?"

"My apologies...." you murmured, keeping your voice low as you quietly adjusted your spine, holding back a sigh.

Throughout the entire dinner, the older woman found a way to dissect everything you did. If you picked up the wrong fork, she cleared her throat. If you chewed too slowly, she made a comment about your lack of energy for the upcoming gala. Jungkook remained entirely silent, casually sipping his whiskey, seemingly detached from the domestic critique.

But your mind wasn't even on her insults. Your mind was entirely focused on the puppy.

It had been hours since you checked on the little puppy, and your stomach twisted with guilt thinking about how hungry the poor thing must be. You had to get food to him tonight, no matter what.

You looked down at your plate. It was filled with a lavish assortment of tender roasted chicken breasts and perfectly sliced, premium wagyu beef.

Glancing up through your eyelashes, you noted that Madam Jeon was currently occupied, sharply lecturing Jungkook about a foreign shipping. Jungkook was looking straight at her, nodding slowly, seemingly engrossed in the conversation.

Now's your chance.

Moving with agonizing slowness, you slid your cloth napkin off your lap. Holding it open beneath the edge of the table with your left hand, you used your right hand to quickly, stealthily slide two large chunks of roasted chicken and a thick slice of beef off your porcelain plate and straight into the fabric.

You folded the napkin over the meat swiftly, tucking the secret bundle securely into the deep pocket of your oversized cardigan. You let out a tiny, imperceptible breath of relief, smoothing down your clothes.

What you didn't realize was that Jungkook hadn't missed a single thing. He was sharp.

From the corner of his dark eyes, he had watched the entire clumsy, frantic operation. He saw the way your eyes darted around like a guilty criminal, the quick flick of your wrist, and the way you practically let out a victory sigh after successfully smuggling a handful of meat into your pocket.

A sharp amusement flared in Jungkook's chest. He paused, his fork hovering an inch above his plate. He knew exactly what the kitchen served you for lunch, and he knew you weren't starving. What is she doing?

"Jungkook, are you listening to me?" Madam Jeon’s sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jungkook smoothly brought the fork to his mouth, chewing elegantly before looking up at his grandmother, his face a perfectly blank, unreadable mask. "Of course, grandmother. Increase the security detail for the port. I’ll handle it personally."

He then slid his gaze across the table, his pitch-black eyes locking dead onto you.

You froze, a piece of broccoli halfway to your mouth as you caught him staring. Jungkook didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly lowered his gaze to the exact pocket where the stolen chicken was hidden, and then looked back up at your face, a tiny, almost invisible smirk playing at the very edge of his lips.

Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks instantly flushing a bright, guilty pink. You dropped your fork onto the plate with a soft rattle, suddenly realizing that Jungkook had just caught you red-handed picking pockets at his own dinner table.

The moment Madam Jeon wiped her mouth with her silk napkin and dismissed herself for the evening, you didn't waste a single second. Keeping your hand pressed firmly over the heavy, warm lump in your cardigan pocket, you slid out of your chair.

"Goodnight," you mumbled quickly, not daring to make eye contact with Jungkook. You turned on your heel and practically bolted from the dining room, desperate to escape whatever terrifying questionnaire he was undoubtedly preparing after catching you stealing food.

You hurried through the dimly lit corridors of the residential wing, your heart pounding against your ribs. Reaching the room, you slipped inside and quietly clicked the door shut behind you.

The room was pitch black.

"Hey, sweet boy," you whispered softly.

A tiny, muffled boof answered you from behind the bed. You knelt down on the cold floor, pulling the folded napkin out of your pocket. The scent of the warm roasted chicken and wagyu beef immediately filled the cramped space. The little puppy scrambled from behind the bed, his injured paw held slightly aloft, his tail thumping against the floor in pure, unadulterated joy.

"Shh, keep it down," you smiled, tearing the meat into smaller pieces and placing them on the velvet cloth. The puppy began inhaling the food hungrily, his little body trembling with excitement. You leaned your head against the old wardrobe, watching him eat, feeling a rare moment of peace.

A wide shaft of bright yellow light cut through the darkness as the door swung open. Standing in the doorway, his towering silhouette completely blocking the exit, was Jungkook. He had discarded his suit jacket, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, looking incredibly imposing in the narrow frame.

You scrambled to your feet, instinctively stepping in front of the wardrobe to hide the puppy behind your skirt. "Jungkook—I can explain—"

Jungkook didn't say a word. He simply stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. He pocketed his keys, his pitch-black eyes fixed on you with a cool, calculating intensity.

"Move," he commanded, his baritone voice quiet but absolute.

"No," you pleaded, your voice trembling as you stood your ground. "Please. He's hurt. I found him in the garden with a thorn in his paw. He’s not doing anything wrong, he’s just a baby—"

Jungkook didn't argue. He simply reached out, his large hand gripping your waist firmly, and effortlessly moved you to the side as if you weighed nothing at all.

You held your breath, bracing yourself for him to call the guards or throw the animal out.

Jungkook looked down. There, crouched was the tiny puppy, its mouth full of meat, looking up at the most feared mafia boss in the country with wide, innocent eyes. The puppy let out a soft whine, its tail giving a weak, hesitant twitch.

Jungkook stared at the dog for a long, agonizing moment. Then, his gaze slowly drifted to the bandage you had clumsily wrapped around its paw, and finally up to you.

"So," Jungkook murmured, a low, smooth rumble in his chest as the terrifying tension in his posture suddenly relaxed. He crossed his arms, leaning against a stack of old drapes. "This is why the future matriarch of the Jeon family was pulling petty heists at my dinner table?”

You bit your bottom lip, your mind racing as you looked from the puppy back up to Jungkook. Seeing that he wasn't immediately calling the guards or throwing a furious tantrum, a tiny spark of hope flared in your chest. You took a tentative step toward him, deliberately letting your shoulders drop and softening your expression into the most innocent, pleading look you could muster.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, widening your eyes until they were completely round and glossy, mimicking the exact doe-eyed look of the puppy behind you.

"Please, Jungkook," you whined softly, your voice dropping into a sweet, slightly pitched tone you hadn't used since you were a child. You brought your hands together, clasping them beneath your chin, and gave him a tiny, desperate tilt of your head. "He’s so small. Look at his little paw, it was bleeding. If we put him outside, the bigger animals or the cold will kill him."

Jungkook stayed completely still, his arms still crossed over his chest. But as he looked down at you, something shifted.

The cold walls he always kept up around himself suddenly felt incredibly fragile. He looked at your face—your cheeks still flushed from embarrassment, your lips slightly parted, and those wide, impossibly soft doe eyes staring up at him as if he held the keys to the universe.

An unfamiliar warmth melted straight through Jungkook's chest, catching him completely off guard. His heart gave a strange, heavy thud against his ribs. He uncrossed his arms, his pitch-black eyes softening just a fraction as he stared at you, momentarily mesmerized by how fiercely cute you were being just to save a stray animal.

He let out a long, defeated breath, his lips twitching as he tried—and failed—to fight off the small smirk tugging at his mouth.

"Are you seriously trying to manipulate me with puppy eyes, princess?" Jungkook murmured, his voice losing every ounce of its icy edge, replaced by a low, rough amusement.

You blinked rapidly, giving him another subtle, cute little nod, stepping just an inch closer into his space. "Is it working?"

Jungkook chuckled, a genuine, deep sound that vibrated pleasantly in the room, "no."

He reached out, his long fingers gently catching a stray leaf that had been stuck in your hair since this afternoon, flicking it away before his thumb softly brushed against your cheek.

"You're ridiculous," he said softly, though the tenderness in his touch betrayed his words. He glanced down at the puppy, who had finished the beef and was now happily licking its own nose.

Jungkook sighed and turned around, leaving you alone with the puppy in the room.

Does that mean he won't harm the puppy?

°

The grand foyer of the estate was filled with warm, golden light, buzzing with the low hum of the country's most powerful mafia families.

Champagne flutes clinked, classical music floated from a hidden quartet, and men in tailored tuxedos stood in tight circles, discussing territory and blood money under the guise of high society.

Near the base of the grand mahogany staircase, slightly removed from the crowd, Jungkook and Taehyung stood side by side.

Taehyung leaned in, his usual easygoing posture entirely gone, his voice dropping into an encrypted, lethal whisper. "The Chairman’s men have taken their places around the eastern perimeter. Exactly where we wanted them."

"Good," Jungkook murmured, taking a slow sip of his bourbon, his pitch-black eyes scanning the room with cold, calculating precision. "Make sure no one leaves until the contract is signed in blood. I want the old man to realize he’s trapped before he even—"

Jungkook’s voice abruptly cut off.

Taehyung blinked, turning to look at him. "Jungkook?"

Jungkook had completely frozen. The glass of bourbon hovered inches from his lips, his dark eyes locked dead onto the top of the grand staircase.

Taehyung followed his gaze, and his breath hitched slightly as well.

There, standing at the precipice of the grand steps, was you.

You didn't look like a mob boss's ruthless bride. You looked timid, small, and visibly nervous, your small fingers tightly clutching the velvet handrail as you looked down at the sea of deadly, unfamiliar faces below. But despite the quiet, hesitant way you stood, you were utterly breathtaking.

You wore a stunning, minimalist midnight-blue silk gown that hugged your waist before cascading down, a high slit subtly revealing your leg with every small, uncertain step you took. A modest diamond necklace rested against your collarbone, catching the light of the massive crystal chandelier above. Your dark hair was styled softly, only a soft, delicate vulnerability that made every man in the room turn his head.

You looked completely different. A whole different girl.

Jungkook’s grip tightened around his crystal glass so hard the ice rattled. The cold, calculating killer disappeared for a fraction of a second, replaced by a man completely paralyzed by the sight of you. His chest rose and fell in a heavy, silent breath, his dark eyes darkening into something thick, heavy, and dangerously possessive as you slowly began your descent down the stairs.

Jungkook moved before his mind could even register the impulse. Breaking away from Taehyung, he hurried to the base of the staircase, stepping out into the open with his hand extended toward you.

Across the room, Madam Jeon’s sharp eyes tracked her grandson's sudden movement. Her lips pressed into a thin, tight line as she watched him—the usually cold, unyielding head of the Jeon hoise looking completely lost, mesmerized by the beauty of the girl descending the steps.

Up on the stairs, your stomach did a violent flip. Every conversation in the grand foyer died down into a stifled, suffocating hush. Dozens of powerful, dangerous eyes locked onto you. You felt fidgety, your pulse hammering in your throat as the weight of their attention threatened to crush you.

When you reached the final step, you saw Jungkook waiting. Without thinking, you reached out and placed your small, cold hand in his. Your fingers instinctively intertwined with his, gripping him tightly—a silent, desperate plea for grounding amid the terrifying sea of strangers.

Jungkook’s hand closed firmly around yours, his large, warm palm steadying your trembling frame as he guided you off the stairs and into the heart of the ballroom.

But as you stepped into the crowd, the silence shattered into a wave of low whispers.

"Is she the Jung heir?"

"Why was she hidden all these years? She is such a beauty..."

"If only I had seen her first..."

"Jeon is a lucky bastard."

"She is so gorgeous!"

The hungry, appraising looks from the rival bosses and high-ranking business men did not escape Jungkook’s notice. He felt the shift in the room instantly—the way men were staring at the high slit of your dress, the way their eyes lingered on your collarbone, on your face.

A dark, lethal possessiveness instantly surged through Jungkook's blood, entirely erasing the trance he had been in just seconds before. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently, and his grip on your intertwined fingers tightened, not enough to hurt you, but enough to anchor you flush against his side.

He didn't just walk beside you; he pulled you so close that your hip brushed against his with every step.

Slowly, Jungkook swept his pitch-black gaze across the room. The dark and dangerous glare he leveled at the whispering men was cold enough to freeze blood. The hungry glances instantly scattered, men quickly turning back to their drinks and clearing their throats, suddenly remembering exactly whose wife they were drooling over.

Leaning his head down until his lips almost touched your ear, Jungkook’s deep baritone vibrated against your skin, dark and low. "Hold on to me tightly, princess," he murmured, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over the back of your hand. "Because if these men keep looking at you like that, I'm going to start painting this floor red before the toast even begins."

Jungkook led you toward the side of the ballroom, but a crowd of high-society guests and underworld leaders quickly swarmed around you both to offer their congratulations. His possessive grip around your waist was unyielding, pulling you so close against his side that there wasn't a breath of air between you.

The suffocating wave of attention made your head spin. The probing questions, the calculating glances, the quiet whispers floating through the air—it was all too much.

“Is she really a Jung?”

“She looks so soft...”

“How did Jeon manage to tame her?”

You peeked over the shoulders of the surrounding guests, your eyes searching for Madam Jeon. She was across the hall, occupied with a group of elderly matriarchs and diplomats. Was she satisfied now? Seeing you dressed like this, standing by her grandson, you could only hope you hadn't disappointed her or ruined her bloody family name.

Suddenly, the crowd of guests parted, and the energy in the room shifted instantly into something ice-cold and sinister.

Jungkook’s body stiffened against yours, his muscles locking tight.

An older man in his mid-fifties stepped through the clearing, flanked closely by a heavy squad of armed security guards. He looked aged, but his posture radiated a terrifyingbauthority. With a slow, calculated smile, the man held out a lavish bouquet of dark flowers to Jungkook.

"Congratulations, Jeon," the old man rasped, his voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. "Captured the very fine asset, I see."

Your stomach flipped violently at the word asset.

Jungkook’s face hardened into a razor-sharp smile, his pitch-black eyes locking onto the older man.

"Asset?" Jungkook replied smoothly, though his fingers dug firmly into the soft silk at your side, anchoring you to him. "I think you can see her, Chairman. My wife. I married her for her. Not for whatever you think."

A shudder ran down your spine. The air surrounding this man felt heavy, toxic, and dangerously unpredictable.

"A Jung girl, hmm?" The Chairman’s sharp, predatory eyes darted over to you, judging every inch of your face, your bare shoulders, your trembling lips. "Very fragile. Be careful, Jeon... she can be broken easily."

A violent flicker of pure darkness flared in Jungkook's eyes. His jaw clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap. "Jeon," he growled through gritted teeth, his tone dripping with lethal promise. "She is a Jeon now. My wife. Mrs. Jeon."

Before Jungkook could lose his temper completely and pull a gun right there in the middle of the hall, Taehyung suddenly materialized at his elbow, placing a firm, steady hand on Jungkook's shoulder.

Sensing the suffocating, deadly tension between the men, you instinctively took a small step backward. The Chairman merely chuckled, a dry, humorless sound and nodded smoothly. "Of course. Whatever you say. Have a great day, children."

You watched in silence as the Chairman turned on his heel, his security detail falling into formation behind him as he strolled toward the far side of the venue. Jungkook didn't take his eyes off the old man's back. He gave a single, curt nod to Taehyung, who tapped the earpiece in his ear and vanished back into the shadows of the estate.

"What's happening...?" you whispered, your voice trembling with genuine fear as you tugged gently on Jungkook's sleeve.

Jungkook didn't hear you. He was completely consumed by a dark storm of rage, pride, and calculated murder, his breath heavy as he watched his enemy cross the floor.

Before you could ask again, a cold, iron-like grip suddenly clamped around your wrist.

You gasped, spinning around to find Madam Jeon staring down at you with a sharp, stern glare. Without waiting for a response, she dragged you away from Jungkook's side and pulled you directly toward a waiting circle of wealthy, formidable matriarchs.

"She is my granddaughter," Madam Jeon announced to the high-society women, her voice echoing with absolute authority as she presented you to the crowd. "The future matriarch of this house. Jeon Y/N."

Madam Jeon held your wrist with a grip that left no room for argument, steering you through the sea of whispering guests and away from the center of the hall. Though her posture remained impeccably rigid and her face a flawless, stoic mask, there was a subtle, deliberate urgency in the way she pulled you along.

She had seen the look in her grandson’s eyes. She knew that look all too well.

It wasn't just anger at the Chairman—it was the dangerous, blinding thrill of the bloodbath about to unleash. Jungkook was slipping into that familiar dark void where nothing mattered except dominance, power, and the greed of winning. In that state, he wasn't a husband or a protector; he was a hurricane. And Madam Jeon knew that standing anywhere near him right now meant risking getting caught in the crossfire.

"Stand up straight, Y/N," Madam Jeon commanded under her breath, her tone icy yet protective as she finally released your wrist, placing herself firmly between you and the direction of the Chairman's guards.

You quickly rubbed your red wrist, your heart hammering against your ribs. Looking back over your shoulder, you could see Jungkook standing near the grand archway. He was completely surrounded by his men now, his face dark, his chest rising and falling heavily as he barked low, ruthless orders. He didn't even notice you had been pulled away. He was entirely consumed by the high of the trap he was setting.

"Smile at Mrs. Kang," Madam Jeon whispered sharply, giving you a warning glance. "Show them no fear. The men are going to play their barbaric games tonight, but as long as you are by my side, no one in this room will dare lay a finger on you."

You swallowed hard, forcing a tight, polite smile as the wealthy matriarchs leaned in to greet you. But beneath the sparkling diamond necklace, your skin was cold with dread.

The air in the manor was getting thicker by the second. The music sounded louder, the laughter felt faker and from across the crowded room.

°

Across the room, the Chairman sat comfortably on a velvet sofa in the elevated VIP lounge. He swirled a glass of vintage scotch in his hand, his sharp, arrogant eyes lazily tracking the wealthy guests mingling below. To anyone watching, he appeared entirely unbothered, a seasoned predator enjoying the spectacle of Jeon’s lavish reception.

A waiter dressed in a crisp black vest passed by his table, setting down a small silver tray to retrieve an empty glass. Unnoticed by the surrounding bodyguards, the waiter slipped a neatly folded, heavy parchment paper onto the marble tabletop right beside the Chairman’s drink before melting back into the crowd.

The Chairman sneered slightly at the intrusion, reaching down to toss the slip away. But as his fingers brushed the paper, he froze.

Inscribed on the outer fold was a seal he hadn't seen in over fifteen years—a mark from a deep-buried past he thought he had successfully slaughtered and erased to build his current empire.

With a sudden, subtle tension in his jaw, he unfolded the paper.

There were only six words written in bold, razor-sharp ink:

The dead remember. Back garden. Alone.

The Chairman’s face drained of every ounce of color. His breath hitched violently in his throat, his hand shaking so badly that his scotch spilled over his knuckles, staining his tailored suit jacket. The ruthless, untouchable aura he had worn all evening shattered into absolute, raw panic.

He didn't call his security. He didn't say a word to his men. Driven by a sudden, terrifying dread, he shoved the paper into his coat pocket and practically scrambled off the sofa.

Stepping hurriedly past his confused bodyguards, the Chairman scurried toward the dim, isolated corridors at the rear of the manor. Pushing through the heavy glass double doors, he rushed out into the cold night air of the back garden, his heart hammering against his ribs as he stepped deep into the shadowed hedge mazes where the music of the reception died down to a distant, suffocating whisper.

°

The cold glass of sparkling juice felt refreshing against your warm palm. Taking a long, heavy chug, you let out a quiet sigh as the crisp liquid washed down your dry throat, instantly cutting through the lingering tension in your chest.

You glanced back over your shoulder toward Madam Jeon’s corner. You had politely excused yourself under the guise of grabbing a drink, utterly desperate for a moment of peace. The endless interrogation from the high-society matriarchs had been suffocating. All they cared about was prying into your past—asking why your father had kept you locked away, probing into how it felt to be hidden from the world, and dropping subtle, cruel jabs about your family’s sudden downfall. It made your skin crawl.

Your eyes swept across the crowded ballroom, searching for a familiar face. But Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. The commanding presence that had practically dominated the room just an hour ago had completely vanished. You even tried spotting Taehyung’s bright hair or sharp suit, but he was gone too. An uneasy, cold weight settled deep in your stomach. Where had they gone? Why did the air in the manor suddenly feel so strangely empty, yet thick with tension?

Determined to escape the whispering crowd and find Jungkook, you began weaving your way past the sea of tailored tuxedos and evening gowns, heading toward the quieter side corridors.

You bumped squarely into a rigid, firm chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry—" you began, stumbling back slightly and catching your balance.

Before you could lift your head to look at the man's face, he reached out with lightning speed. His gloved fingers brushed your palm, pressing a small, tightly folded piece of paper directly into your hand, closing your fingers over it with a firm pressure.

You blinked, a deep frown carving into your forehead. "Wait—what is this?"

The man didn't answer. By the time you looked up, his tall, dark figure had already melted back into the dense crowd, disappearing as if he had never been there at all.

Your heart began to beat a little faster. Unfolding the heavy parchment with trembling fingers, you looked down at the messy handwriting written across the page,

You don't belong to the world of crimes. Your father locked you up for a reason.

A cold chill ran down your spine. You turned around rapidly, your eyes frantically scanning the faces of the nearby guests, looking for anyone who might be watching you. Who was that man? How did he know about your father, or the quiet, isolated life you had been forced to live before Jeon took you?

Holding the paper tightly against your dress, your legs moved on pure instinct, pulling you deeper into the quiet back hallway toward the garden doors, desperate to figure out what was happening before the night spiraled completely out of control.

clutching the crumpled note in your fist, you hurried down the dimly lit hallway, your heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor. The muffled bass of the orchestra inside the ballroom faded into a distant hum as you pushed past the threshold, following the quiet corridor that led toward the rear estate.

Your mind was spiraling.

Your father locked you up for a reason.

The words burned in your head, fanning the flames of every unanswered question you’d buried since your world collapsed.

"Excuse me?" you called out softly, your voice trembling as you peered into the shadows of the long hallway.

There was no answer. The corridor was unnervingly empty, the heavy velvet drapes swaying slightly from the cool night breeze slipping in through the cracked glass doors at the far end—the doors leading out into the sprawling back garden.

You took a hesitant step forward, the high slit of your midnight-blue gown brushing against your leg. You knew you should turn back. You knew Madam Jeon was expecting you, and that venturing off alone during a gathering of ruthless mob bosses was suicide. But the desperate, burning need to understand your own past pushed you forward.

You pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped into the crisp night air.

The back garden was vast, illuminated only by sparse stone lanterns and the pale glow of the moon. Dense, manicured hedge mazes stretched out like dark, silent walls ahead of you.

"Is someone there?" you whispered into the darkness, wrapping your arms around yourself to ward off the sudden chill.

A faint sound echoed from deep within the stone paths—a crunch of gravel, followed by a low, stifled murmur. You froze, your chest heaving as you crept closer to the entrance of the hedge maze, peering around the towering green corner.

Instead of the stranger who had handed you the note, your eyes widened in absolute shock at what lay ahead in the shadows.

A few yards deeper into the moonlit clearing stood Jungkook.

He had shed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the dark, intricate ink covering his forearms. He looked terrifying—a cold, unyielding shadow standing over the Chairman, who was currently on his knees on the gravel, his security detail nowhere in sight.

Taehyung was standing silently nearby, holding a thick, leather-bound document and a pen, his expression utterly unreadable.

The Chairman was gasping, bleeding from a fresh cut on his lip, his face pale with raw terror as he looked up at Jungkook.

"Sign it," Jungkook commanded, his baritone voice dangerously low, dropping like lead into the quiet night. "Or I end your bloodline right here on the dirt."

you ducked low, scrambling backward and throwing yourself behind a dense thicket of tall boxwood bushes. The sharp leaves scraped against your bare shoulders, but you barely felt it, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears it threatened to drown out the night.

You slammed both hands over your mouth, clamping down tight on your lips to trap the violent scream bubbling up from your chest.

Through the narrow gaps in the dark foliage, you watched the nightmare unfold in brutal, terrifying detail.

The Chairman barely had time to drop the pen onto the signed paper before Jungkook struck. Without a word of mercy, Jungkook’s large, tattooed gloved hand reached out, grabbing the old man's jaw with a sickening, heavy force. He pinned the Chairman's head back violently, exposing his throat.

Taehyung moved with practiced, chilling efficiency. Pulling a small, amber glass vial from his inner suit pocket, he unscrewed the cap and forcefully tipped the dark liquid straight down the Chairman's gagging throat. The man thrashed violently, his fingers clawing uselessly at Taehyung's sleeves, but Jungkook held him in a iron grip until every last drop was swallowed.

Then, Jungkook shoved him back onto the gravel, he kneeled on the ground and stabbed the old man twice in his chest with a sinister smirk.

The old man collapsed, wheezing and choking as the poison tore through his system. Jungkook didn't look away, stepping closer to ensure the man was dead. His pristine white dress shirt was ruined—splattered with fresh, deep crimson blood that soaked into the fabric across his chest and arms.

He looked like an absolute demon standing in the moonlight, completely unfazed by the life ending at his feet.

Your stomach turned violently. Tears spilled over your eyelashes, blinding your vision as pure, unadulterated terror seized your entire body.

You needed to get away.

Taking trembling, silent steps backward, you carefully backed out of the bushes, keeping low until you reached the shadows of the stone archway. The moment your heels hit the hard tile of the corridor, you turned and ran.

You didn't care about the grand gown, the sharp slit exposing your legs, or the heavy diamond necklace bouncing against your chest. You ran blindly through the empty hallways, ignoring the distant sounds of the reception, taking the back servants' stairs two at a time until you reached your bedroom.

Bursting through the heavy wooden door, you slammed it shut, locking it with shaking hands.

The room was pitch black, saved only by the pale light of the moon filtering through the high windows. You slid down the side of the door, your legs completely giving out beneath you. You scrambled across the rug, dragging yourself into the farthest, darkest corner of the room, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face in the silk of your dress.

A breathless sob broke from your lips.

The image of the Chairman gasping for air, the slick red blood on Jungkook’s white shirt, and the dark note still crumpled tightly in your trembling fist—it all crashed over you at once. You were trapped in a castle with a monster, and no matter how gentle his touch had felt just hours ago, tonight he had reminded you exactly who he truly was.

°

An hour felt like an eternity in the pitch-black silence of the bedroom. Every creak of the floorboards outside sent a fresh wave of panic through your veins as you sat curled up in the corner, your knees pressed tight against your chest, the paper note still crushed in your fist.

Then, the doorknob turned.

The door swung open, and you scrambled to your feet immediately, your back hitting the wall as you tried to pull yourself into the shadows.

When Jungkook stepped into the room, he looked like the reincarnation of the devil himself. The soft amber light from the hallway caught the harsh, ruthless lines of his face.

He was completely covered in blood. Dark red stains splattered across his chest, his forearms, and even high up on the collar of his white dress shirt. The metallic smell of iron hit your nose instantly, and your head spun with a terrifying, nauseating dizziness.

You pressed yourself flat against the wall, your chest heaving as tears spilled silently down your hot cheeks.

Jungkook paused in the doorway. His pitch-black eyes swept across the room, landing dead on your trembling frame. The violent storm in his eyes flickered, replaced by something dark and heavy as he took in your wet eyes and pale, terrified face.

"Don't be scared of me," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated through the quiet room. "I won't hurt you."

He took a slow, deliberate step toward you. The sight of the fresh blood on his clothes made your knees go weak, the room tilting slightly around you.

Noticing your gaze, Jungkook reached down without breaking eye contact and unbuttoned his dress shirt. With a single, effortless motion, he peeled the blood-soaked fabric off his skin and discarded it onto the rug. His massive, ink-covered torso was fully exposed now, broad shoulders, defined chest, and dark, intricate tattoos stretching across his skin.

Your body shivered violently, your pulse hammering in your throat as he closed the distance between you.

He walked up until he was standing directly in front of you, his towering frame blocking out the light.

You braced yourself for the worst. Expecting a harsh grip, a rough pull, or something aggressive, you squeezed your eyes shut in sheer terror, your breath hitching in your throat.

Instead, a heavy, warm weight dropped against your collarbone.

Jungkook collapsed forward slightly, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck. He took a long, deep breath, greedily inhaling the soft, sweet vanilla scent of your skin.

A quiet, satisfied sound escaped his throat, followed by a low, contented hum that vibrated straight against your chest.

"Let me..." he rasped against your skin, his tone completely stripped of the murderous edge it had held in the garden.

Before you could react, his large, warm arms wrapped firmly around your waist. Lifting you slightly off your feet, he dragged you toward the plush mattress, tumbling onto the soft silk sheets with you in his arms.

He shifted your body so you were lying diagonally across the bed, hovering over you for a fleeting second. Your lips quivered, your whole body locked tight in extreme tension until you looked up and caught his eyes.

The ruthless monster from the maze was gone. In his eyes was a raw, bone-deep exhaustion, a heavy vulnerability that made him look human again. The adrenaline of the execution had completely burned out, leaving behind a man who was no longer consumed by power, but simply looking for an anchor.

Jungkook let out a slow exhale and dropped his heavy head back down into the crook of your neck. His long lashes fluttered shut, his muscular frame relaxing completely over yours as his breathing slowed into a steady, deep rhythm. He was asleep within seconds.

You lay completely frozen under his weight, the silence of the room returning.

A few seconds passed. Then a minute.

When he didn't move or shift, your trembling hand hesitantly lifted from the mattress. Reaching up slowly, your small fingers hovered over his hair before finally sinking into his soft, dark locks. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, playing with the soft strands as your heart slowly settled down from its frantic beat.

Your eyes drifted to the moonlit ceiling, the crumpled note still resting in your other hand.

What on earth had actually happened tonight?

Previous part

A/n : I am not really satisfied with this chapter. It didn't turn out well and definitely not how I imagined it in my head :( it was hard to finish writing this one for some reason. But the next chapter is dope <3!

[a-nyx-7]

next gilded cage update when ><

Tonight <33! I am done writing and editing it!

[a-nyx-7]

Helloo I don’t know if you will see this question but I just want to ask if you have upcoming jimin series or you’re planning to make more 😊

Hellooo! I have a medieval royalty series planned for jimin as for now but it's just a rough idea, not heavily planned and maybe a friends to lovers two shot or three shot as requested <3

[a-nyx-7]

YOU UPDATE SO FREQUENTLY and you keep us sooo well fed omg thank you diva <33333

😚😚 I just enjoy writing as much reading <33

[a-nyx-7]

Poll 2 for Gilded cage

choose one person

yoongi

jimin

Voting ended onJul 26

[a-nyx-7]

jiminnnnnnnn appearance plzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

In Gilded cage?

[a-nyx-7]

When’s the next update for gilded cage? Not to pressurize you or anything! Take your time! Just wanted to know

Most probably on Monday <3. I am halfway done writing it <33.

[a-nyx-7]

Gilded Cage poll. I won't tell y'all the question but here are the options you can choose 😚

choose one person for gilded cage

Yoongi

Namjoon

Voting ended onJul 25

[a-nyx-7]

Oh no what a tragedy itd be if someone "accidentally" hits the grandma in the crossfire 🤭 lolol maybe. but I LOVE WHERE THIS IS GOING. FINALLY SHES GONNA BE SEEN BY EVERYONE! & The dog! I love she has a pup baby! ☺️

we all hate grandma, ikr. Even I do. And i am excited to finish writing the next chapter! It's going to be a big one <33

[a-nyx-7]

Okay, but seriously, please let her keep that puppy safe. if not, im afraid I'm gonna go all John wick LIKE FRS 😤 i cant wait for the next update!

oh my god guys, i won't hurt the puppy dw 😭 the amount of messages I got for the puppy is insane. Lol.

[a-nyx-7]

SEXY NUKIM | KIM NAMJOON

Synopsis : Kim Namjoon rules a mafia empire hidden behind a billion-dollar company. Y/N has spent years as his loyal assistant, guarding both his business and his blood-soaked secrets. When his traditional family demands a girlfriend, she's forced to fake play the role she's dreamed of for years. In a world where every touch is a lie, resisting the man she's always wanted becomes impossible.

Pairing : mafia! Namjoon x assistant! reader

Genre: fake dating, girlfriend x boyfriend, one side, mafia au, rich au, smut, mature themes, dirty talking.

ONE SHOT.

[a-nyx-7]

IS IT THE GRANDMA 😲 my mind would be blown for sure on that twist!! lolol

Listening to theories is fun 🤭🤭

[a-nyx-7]

GILDED CAGE

PART 8

You were raised behind locked doors, hidden from a world that was never supposed to know your name. But secrets have a way of finding the wrong people, and when Jeon Jungkook does, your freedom comes with a ring... and a war. Pairing : mafia! JK x f.reader Genre : mafia au, political marriage, secret heir, syndicate, dark romance, secrets, drama, angst, eventual smut, dark themes, drugs, underworld syndicate. Taglist : @nayutalvr @jungkookgoodlookin @zaf3ira @celest-pluto @prxdajeon @firstdivisiongirl

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Later that afternoon, the air inside Jungkook’s private estate office was dense.

Jungkook stood leaning over his massive desk, his crisp white sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the dark ink that coiled down his forearms. His pitch-black eyes were narrowed, fixed with an intense, unyielding glare on the digital map of the syndicate’s territories glowing on the center display.

He looked like a man possessed by a quiet consuming fire.

"The highest seat on the council isn't enough," Jungkook broke the silence, his dark voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register that vibrated with pure, insatiable greed. He didn't look up from the screen. "I didn't annihilate the Jung family and strip them of their bloodline just to sit at a round table and take votes with a bunch of decaying old men. I don't want a voice, Taehyung. I want power."

Taehyung stopped typing, the tablet screen reflecting in his sharp eyes. He leaned back in his leather chair, exhaling a slow breath. "You just secured billions worth of assets in the history of the underworld, boss. The other families are already trembling."

"Let them tremble harder," Jungkook slammed his palm flat against the desk, the force of his movement causing the crystal whiskey tumblers to rattle. His eyes gleamed with a terrifying hunger for power and wealth. "I want the Chairman's throne. I want the entire empire under the Jeon name, completely unchallenged."

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck, his expression turning serious as he pulled up a new set of blueprints on his screen. "If we want the throne, the current Chairman has to go. But it’s not going to be easy. He knows you're bleeding the council dry. That’s why he’s currently holed up at the Luxury Resort outside the city outskirts. The place is a literal fortress, three perimeters of private security, biometric locks, and jammed frequencies."

Taehyung tapped a red marker on the resort’s location. "I can organize a black-ops squad to launch a covert hit there, but the casualties will be high."

Jungkook finally looked up, his jaw clenched tightly as he took a slow drag from his cigar. He let the smoke curl past his lips before speaking. "No. The resort's security is too tight, and a loud, messy attack on his home turf will scream attack under my name. The council will unite against us in a heartbeat even if they are scared of me and I'm not starting a full-scale mafia war before my grip on the throne is secured."

He swept his hand across the digital screen, erasing the resort map.

"We can't fight him there," Jungkook murmured, his dark eyes darkening with lethal calculation. "We need to draw him out. We need the old man to come to us, where his guard will be down, and my men will control the perimeter.”

Before Taehyung could offer an alternative strategy, the doors of the office swung open without a warning knock. The click-thud of an ornate cane against the polished hardwood floor immediately cut through the tense atmosphere.

Madam Jeon stepped into the room, her posture rigid with pride, her sharp eyes scanning the smoke-filled office with immediate distaste.

Taehyung stood up instantly, bowing his head in respect, while Jungkook merely straightened his posture, his expression hardening back into an unreadable mask.

"Grandmother," Jungkook said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. "We are in the middle of a strategic briefing."

"I don't care about your little wars right now, Jungkook," the matriarch interrupted, her voice cutting like a razor through the room. She stopped right in front of his desk, slamming the tip of her cane down with authority. "We have a much more pressing humiliation to correct. I have spent the last three hours receiving calls from syndicate heads wondering why the sole heir to the Jeon empire got married in total secrecy like a thief in the night."

Jungkook let out a low, irritated breath, setting his cigar down in the crystal ashtray. "I already told you. The marriage is a contract. It’s handled."

"A paper marriage is a stain on our lineage!" she lectured sharply, her eyes flashing with fury. "You cannot simply buy a girl for her shares, hide her away in this estate, and expect the underworld to take you seriously. It makes the Jeon name look weak. It looks like you are ashamed of your own alliance."

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his insatiable greed for absolute respect flaring at her words, but he remained silent, letting her speak.

"If you refuse to give me a grand wedding, you will host a massive, lavish marriage reception at the Jeon Grand Gala Hall by the end of the week," Madam Jeon commanded, her tone leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. "You will drag that girl out of her bedroom, put the Jeon diamonds on her neck, and formally announce her as your wife to high society."

She leaned in slightly, her gaze locking onto Jungkook’s pitch-black eyes. "No one can insult our family name. Every high-profile politician we hold in our pockets, our foreign allies, and the entire council, including the Chairman himself, will be obligated to attend out of sheer respect and protocol. They will be forced to stand under our roof and toast to your victory. Do you understand me?”

Jungkook stood entirely still, his grandmother’s voice echoing off the walls, but he was no longer listening to her lecture. Instead, the words including the Chairman himself played on a loop in his mind.

Slowly, the icy, rigid tension in his jaw melted away. A dark, lethal smirk began to spread across his face, his pitch-black eyes gleaming with an unholy, predatory light. He stared at his grandmother, but he wasn't seeing her—he was seeing a beautifully orchestrated trap, wrapped in silk and handed to him on a silver platter.

"You're entirely right, grandmother," Jungkook murmured, his voice suddenly laced with a smooth, terrifying amusement that made Taehyung look up in sharp suspicion. "Forgive my lack of vision. We will host the reception. Tell the staff to spare no expense. We will make it a night the syndicate will never forget."

Madam Jeon gave a single, satisfied nod, pleased by his sudden submission. "See that you do. I expect the invitations sent out by tonight."

With a final click of her cane, she turned and exited the office, the heavy doors closing firmly behind her.

The moment the lock clicked, the silence in the room became heavy with anticipation. Jungkook slowly turned his gaze toward Taehyung, the lethal smirk still playing on his lips.

"We are going to give my grandmother exactly what she wants," Jungkook whispered, leaning his palms flat against the digital map on his desk.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, a slow realization dawning on him. "A grand reception... as a cover?"

"It’s the perfect setup," Jungkook laughed, a low, gravelly sound that held no warmth. "The Chairman would never leave his resort for a meeting with me. But he cannot insult the Jeon lineage by skipping a formal, public marriage announcement. High-society protocol will force the old man right out of his heavily guarded fortress."

He swept his hand across the screen, pulling up the blueprints for the Jeon Grand Gala Hall.

"The security at the Gala Hall will be entirely controlled by my men," Jungkook continued, his insatiable greed for power practically radiating off him. "Every waiter, every guard, every valet will answer to me. Amidst the loud music, the flowing champagne, and the blinding flashes of the media, the Chairman will be completely exposed. Completely vulnerable."

Taehyung stared at the blueprints, a chill running down his spine as the full weight of the dark twist hit him. "You’re going to execute a coup at your own wedding reception."

"I am going to execute the Chairman at my wedding reception," Jungkook corrected coldly, his eyes burning with an unhinged fire. "Let the old man bleed right into the champagne glasses. Everyone will be so focused on my beautiful, fragile new bride,she will be the ultimate distraction. While they watch her, we take the throne.”

°

The walls of the estate had become entirely unbearable after Jungkook’s cold reminder that morning. Desperate for a breath of air, you had slipped out into the sprawling gardens of the estate.

The afternoon sun was warm, but a gentle breeze rustled through the massive hedges and rows of pristine white roses. You walked aimlessly, trying to clear your mind, until a faint, pathetic sound caught your attention.

You froze, tilting your head. It came from the dense, untamed shrubbery near the very edge of the estate’s reinforced stone perimeter wall.

Pushing aside the thick leaves, your heart squeezed. Crouched in the dirt was a tiny, shivering puppy. It looked like a stray Golden Retriever mix, its fur matted with dirt and dried leaves. It was trembling violently, its big, glossy brown eyes looking up at you with pure terror. As it tried to pull away from your hand, it let out a sharp yelp, limping heavily on its front right paw.

"Oh, sweetie," you whispered, your protective instincts instantly overriding your own sorrow. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

Forgetting about your expensive dress and the dirt beneath your knees, you knelt down on the soil. You spoke in low, soothing tones, slowly extending your hand until the puppy hesitantly leaned forward and sniffed your fingers. Sensing you were a safe haven, it collapsed against your palm, letting out a soft, exhausted sigh.

Carefully lifting the fragile creature into your arms, you sneaked back toward the estate. You knew the rules—Jungkook kept this place like a high-security military base. A dirty, stray puppy would likely be thrown out by the guards or dismissed by Madam Jeon as a nuisance.

You managed to bypass the main foyer and slipped into the small, unused greenhouse attached to the east wing. It was warm, quiet, and filled with old gardening supplies.

Working quickly, you grabbed a clean, damp towel from the sink to wipe the dirt from its matted fur. You examined the injured paw; thankfully, it wasn't broken, just scraped badly and swollen from a sharp thorn embedded in the pad. With steady hands, you gently pulled the thorn out, wincing as the puppy whimpered, before wrapping it neatly with a makeshift bandage from a first-aid kit you found on the shelf.

"Good boy," you murmured, kissing the top of its wet head.

Youbrought a small plate of roasted chicken and a bowl of fresh water from the kitchen pantry, hiding it under your sweater. The moment you set the food down, the puppy began devouring it hungrily, its little tail giving a hesitant, joyful thump against the wooden floor.

A soft smile broke across your face—the first genuine smile you had worn since arriving at the estate. For a moment, the loneliness and the bitter memory of Jungkook’s cold words vanished.

But you couldn't leave him out here forever. The gardeners would find him by tomorrow morning.

Wrapping the sleeping, full-bellied puppy securely inside your sweater, you carefully sneaked back up the grand staircase, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of the maids or Jungkook’s men.

At the very end of the wing, where you and Jungkook stay, was a guest room which wasn't in use for now, disused storage closet filled with old, ntique furniture and heavy drapes. It was dark, quiet, and nobody ever entered it.

You cleared a small corner behind a massive Victorian wardrobe, laying down a plush, discarded velvet curtain to create a soft, hidden bed. You placed the puppy down, setting a small bowl of water nearby. The little dog instantly curled up into a ball, completely safe and sound.

"Stay quiet in here, okay?" you whispered, gently stroking its soft ears. "I'll come back for you tonight."

Closing the closet door until it was just a tiny fraction ajar to let air in, you let out a breath of relief. You finally had a secret of your own in this cold, heartless fortress, something real, fragile, and worth protecting.

Turning away from the hidden closet, you smoothed down your skirt and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nervous adrenaline. Your hands were still slightly dusty from the greenhouse, and a few stray leaves clung to the hem of your clothes, but you finally felt a sense of quiet accomplishment.

You rounded the corner into the grand, sunlit corridor of the residential wing, your mind completely occupied with thoughts of how to smuggle more food up for the puppy later tonight.

Thud.

You collided forcefully with a figure coming from the intersecting hallway.

The impact caught you entirely off guard. You gasped, your high heels slipping on the polished marble floor as you stumbled backward, losing your balance. The person you hit let out a sharp, indignant gasp, their ornate cane clattering against the floor as they reeled from the collision.

Reacting on pure instinct, you reached out and grabbed the person's forearm, planting your feet firmly to stabilize both of you just before a disastrous fall could happen.

The heavy silence that followed was suffocating.

Your eyes widened in horror as you looked up. Standing right in front of you, her chest heaving with icy rage, was Madam Jeon. If you hadn't caught her arm, the elderly matriarch would have crashed onto the hard marble.

She ripped her arm out of your grip as if your touch were toxic, her sharp eyes flashing with an absolute, terrifying fury.

"Hands off me!" she hissed, her voice dripping with aristocratic venom.

Taehyung, who had been walking a few paces behind her, quickly stepped forward to retrieve her fallen cane, his face an unreadable mask, though his eyes darted to you with a look of silent warning. He handed the cane back to the matriarch, stepping back into the shadows.

Madam Jeon adjusted her silk shawl, her piercing gaze slowly raking down your form. The moment she noticed your appearance, her expression shifted from anger to pure, unadulterated disgust.

Your dress was smudged with dark garden soil at the knees. Strands of grass were tangled in the fabric, and your hands were visibly dirty from treating the stray puppy.

"Look at you," Madam Jeon spat, her tone cutting through you like a razor. She slammed the tip of her cane against the marble, the sharp sound echoing off the walls. "You look like a common street beggar, not a daughter of the Jung family, and certainly not a Jeon."

You swallowed hard, stepping back. "I was just in the garden, I—"

"Silence!" she commanded, her pride flaring. "You have been in this house for barely a week, and you walk around looking like a disgrace. My grandson bought you safety and status, and this is how you repay the lineage? Rolling around in the dirt like an undisciplined child?"

She stepped closer, her sharp eyes boring into yours. "Let me make one thing clear to you, girl. In three days, you will be standing beside Jungkook at the Grand Gala Hall in front of the entire underworld council, foreign dignitaries, and the press. You will represent this family. If you dare to show up looking like a peasant, or if you bring an ounce of embarrassment to the Jeon name, I will personally ensure you regret the day you ever survived your family’s ruin."

Turning on her heel, she clicked her cane against the floor, walking away with rigid grace. Taehyung followed behind her, giving you one last sympathetic, worried glance over his shoulder before they disappeared down the hall.

You stood frozen in the empty corridor, your hands trembling as you looked down at your soiled clothes. The reality of this house was closing in on you again—a place where a single smudge of dirt was treated as a crime.

The sound of Madam jeon’s clicking cane had barely faded before the tears welled up in your eyes. You bit your lip hard, refusing to let them fall in the middle of the hallway. You felt so incredibly small, trapped in a house where your only purpose was to be a silent, perfect porcelain doll for a family of monsters.

"Hey," a soft, familiar voice murmured.

You jumped slightly, looking up to see Taehyung walking back down the corridor. He must have slipped away from Madam Jeon the second she turned the corner. His usual playful smirk was entirely gone, replaced by a warm, comforting gentleness.

"Don't let her get under your skin," he said softly, stepping closer. "She thinks the entire world operates on fear and perfect posture. Come on. Let's get you out of this hallway before she decides to march back."

You wiped a stray tear from your cheek, nodding gratefully. "Where are we going? I'm covered in dirt."

"Somewhere quiet," Taehyung smiled, tilting his head toward the glass doors at the end of the east wing.

Minutes later, he led you out to the estate’s private indoor pool house. It was a massive, architectural marvel, surrounded by towering glass walls that looked out onto the forest, with a crystalline pool glowing under the soft afternoon light. The air was warm, smelling faintly of clean water and tropical plants. It was completely secluded, away from the prying eyes of the maids and the guards.

Taehyung kicked off his expensive leather shoes and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers. Without hesitation, he sat down right at the edge of the deep end, letting his bare feet dangle into the cool, shimmering water.

He patted the tiled spot right next to him. "Sit. The water's nice."

You managed a small, tentative smile. you sat down beside him, letting your legs swing over the edge. The moment your feet dipped into the cool water, a wave of relief washed over you. The ripples danced against your skin, instantly soothing the tension that had built up in your body all morning.

"I'm sorry about earlier," you whispered, staring at your reflection in the water. "I almost knocked her down. I'm just... I'm a mess today."

"You're not a mess, Y/N," Taehyung said gently, kicking his feet slightly, sending small ripples across the surface. "You're a human being who was thrown into a cage full of tigers. You're allowed to breathe. You're allowed to get your hands dirty."

He turned his head to look at you, his sharp eyes remarkably soft. "Jungkook told you about the reception, didn't he?"

You nodded, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. "He made it very clear. He told me it's just a transaction. I get protection, he gets shares, and I shouldn't expect anything more from him. And now his grandmother expects me to be a perfect wife in front of the entire underworld." You looked down at your hands. "I don't think I can do this, Taehyung. I don't belong in his world."

Taehyung fell silent for a moment.

"Jungkook talks a big game about transactions because it's the only way he knows how to protect himself," Taehyung said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made you look up. "He’s greedy for power, Y/N. He’s obsessed with it because, in our world, if you aren't the one holding the knife, you're the one getting stabbed. But don't let his cold words fool you."

Taehyung gave you a reassuring, boyish grin, nudging your shoulder with his. "As for the reception? Don't worry about the council or the Chairman. You just have to look beautiful, which you already do—even with a little garden dirt on you. I'll be right there in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. And hey, if it gets too boring, we can always sneak back to the lounge and curse him out again."

A genuine laugh finally bubbled up from your chest, the sound echoing lightly off the high glass ceiling. "If we do that, I think he might actually throw us both out."

"Let him try," Taehyung winked, splashing a tiny bit of water toward your feet with a chuckle.

Sitting there by the edge of the pool, with your feet dangling in the water and Taehyung’s easy, friendly banter filling the silence, the weight of the Jeon name finally began to lift. You had no idea about the bloody trap Jungkook was planning for that very reception, but for now, in this quiet haven, you finally felt like you weren't completely alone.

After a while, Taehyung’s phone buzzed sharply against the tile. He looked down at the encrypted screen, the easy, relaxed smile fading from his face as duty called him back.

"Boss needs me," he said, pushing himself up from the edge of the pool and drying his feet with a nearby towel. He offered you a warm, parting smile. "Don't stay out here too long, princess. And seriously, don't worry about my grandmother."

"Thank you, Taehyung," you murmured, watching him slip his shoes back on and disappear through the heavy glass doors.

Once the doors clicked shut, the pool house fell into a profound, echoing silence. You dragged your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them as your toes lazily traced circles in the water.

With Taehyung gone, the quiet allowed your thoughts to drift to the one person who truly mattered. Your brother.

A heavy, aching wave of homesickness and worry washed over you. Was he fine? Where was he hiding right now? Was he safe from the rival families, or was he running for his life, cold and hungry? You missed him so fiercely it felt like a physical pain in your chest. Before your family's empire crumbled, he was the only one who had ever protected you. Now, you were trapped in a gilded cage.

A tear slipped from your eye.

The sudden slam of the glass doors made you flinch. The unmistakable cadence of footsteps echoed across the tiled floor.

You didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. The air in the room grew thick, charged with that familiar aura of pure dominance.

Jungkook walked right up to the edge of the pool, stopping just a foot away from where you sat. He was back in his charcoal suit jacket, but his tie was slightly loosened, and his jaw was clenched tightly. His pitch-black eyes were narrowed as he looked down at you, radiating annoyance.

"I've been looking all over this damn house for you," Jungkook barked, his baritone voice tight and impatient. "The maids didn't know where you were. My guards didn't see you leave the wing. Do you have any idea how much time I just wasted trying to find you?"

You didn't look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on the ripples in the water. "I didn't know I needed your permission just to sit by the pool."

Jungkook let out a sharp, irritated breath, annoyed by your quiet defiance. He stepped closer, his shadow casting over your face.

"You are under my protection, which means I need to where you are at all times," he commanded coldly. "I don't have time to play hide-and-seek. Get up. We need to talk about the gala.”

Your foot stopped tracing circles in the water. The cool, calming effect of the pool vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden, hot flash of pure, unadulterated frustration. You were exhausted—exhausted from the hangover, exhausted from his grandmother's venom, and utterly drained from worrying if your brother was even breathing.

You didn't get up. Instead, you slowly turned your head, looking up at him with eyes that no longer held fear, only a raw, burning irritation.

"Your protection?" you laughed, the sound sharp, hollow, and completely humorless. "Is that what you call this? Because from where I'm sitting, it feels a lot more like a prison sentence."

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening as the air between you turned dangerously cold. "Watch your tone, Y/N."

"No, I won't watch my tone!" you snapped, finally swinging your wet legs out of the water and standing up to face him. Even barefoot and shivering slightly, you stood your ground, stepping right into his space. "I am so sick and tired of you throwing that word in my face like I owe you my life! 'I gave you safety. I gave you protection.' You didn't give me a choice!"

Jungkook didn't move an inch, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched violently beneath his skin. "I saved you from a wedding where you would have been slaughtered and caged all your life, princess. Don't forget that."

"And you made sure to take my family's entire empire as your fee! Caged? I don't see the difference now." you yelled, your voice cracking as the pent-up emotion of the last week finally exploded. "You didn't save me out of the goodness of your heart, Jungkook! You did it because you are greedy. You wanted the shares, you wanted the highest seat, and now you want me to play the perfect, silent little doll at some grand gala so your precious family name doesn't look weak!"

Tears of pure frustration stung the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. You poked a finger sharply against his firm, expensive suit jacket.

"You tell me not to expect anything from you, and believe me, I don't! But don't act like you're my savior. You don't care if I'm drowning in this house. You don't care that I don't know if my brother is dead or alive! You just care about your grandmother, your security, and your damn power. So go ahead, tell me about your gala. Tell me how to stand, how to smile, and how to be your perfect paper asset. Because that’s all I am to you anyway, right?"

You stopped, panting lightly, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, completely spent.

Jungkook stood entirely frozen. The cold, mocking smirk he usually wore was entirely gone. His pitch-black eyes locked onto yours, dark and completely unreadable, his chest rising and falling in heavy, silent breaths as your words hung in the warm air of the pool house like a countdown to an explosion.

Jungkook’s patience snapped. In one fluid, terrifyingly fast motion, his hand shot out and gripped your waist, yanking you forward until your body crashed flush against his broad, solid chest. The sudden impact stole the air from your lungs.

He gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face up to force your gaze to meet his. His pitch-black eyes were dark, dangerous, and completely devoid of warmth.

"You think you know exactly what you are to me?" Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a lethal, icy baritone that sent a tremor straight down your spine. "Let me remind you of something, princess. I can have many uses for you. Not just on paper. I can easily make use of you to warm my bed every single night. After all, you are my wife. Should I?"

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered the final question, his warm breath sending an immediate, traitorous rush of heat straight to your cheeks. You flushed crimson, your voice trapped in your throat as your heart hammered against your ribs.

A low, dark chuckle vibrated against your skin at your reaction.

"You were locked away your entire life, weren't you?" Jungkook murmured, his tone dripping with a smug, deeply provocative amusement. "I am pretty sure you're entirely untouched, princess. You probably don't even know what it feels like."

Before you could even process his words to protest, he leaned lower, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. He deliberately nibbled the slope of your shoulder with his teeth, applying just enough sharp pressure to make you gasp out loud. Your fingers instinctively flew up, gripping his broad shoulders tightly for support as your knees turned weak.

He held you tightly against him for a lingering, breathless second, letting the sheer weight of his dominance sink in.

Then, just as suddenly as he had caught you, the tension broke.

"Fine," Jungkook murmured, his voice returning to its smooth, businesslike calm as he detangled himself from you and stepped back, smoothing down the front of his jacket. "I will make sure to treat you properly tomorrow. Don't complain when your duties will be assigned as mrs.jeon, which also includes being my wife in bed.For now, be a good girl for the gala. Don't make me look for you again."

Without waiting for your response, he turned on his heel and walked out of the pool house, leaving you standing frozen by the water, your chest heaving and your skin still burning from his touch.

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A/n : I am so close to 1K followers and i couldn't be more grateful 🤍. Thank you everyone. I never imagined my stories would be loved by so many people. All i wanted was to share my crazy imagination and storytelling with the world.

I will release a special One shot as 1K special, you can give me requests!

So, how's the story going..? Enjoying so far? Any theories? 🤭

[a-nyx-7]

i think yn is going to accidentally befriend one of jungkooks men & if its taehyung...oopsies 👀 lolol id be happy to see her bodyguard that fought for her also becoming her friend, maybe teaching her self defense moves & then bam jk has a warm heart for her & loves her fully.. 🤭🤭

👀 ahhh...nopeeee. there's a bigger twist coming up 😚😚

[a-nyx-7]

Babe when are gonna upload the next chapter of Guilded cage??

I can't wait anymore!! 😭😭

I am packed with class tests for the next two days 🙂 being a CS student sucks trust me. I will try to post the next part tonight or else Thursday it is. If it's on Thursday, i will release a short sneak peak for y'all <33