there's a book booth in your city. for weeks, you exchange books with who you believe to be one single person - because nowadays barely anybody reads anymore.
how can you fall in love with someone just by the way they write you little messages under the front covers? sooner or later you have got to meet...
word count: ~3500
music: lonely
"Hey y/n
I'm really glad you came back. How are you coping with the new information? The concept of Multiverse is anything but new to me, and yet I lost sleep for about a week. I think it's the gratitude because the first alien I ever met happens to be you. I don't even know how you must feel, but you brought me the book on history, and allowed me to see your Seoul, so that means we're good to talk, right?
You guys really, seriously, don't have Sundays? We have seven days in a week. Sunday comes after Saturday, and it's a day off, too. No wonder you are so uptight, you only rest one day :) That also changes my understanding of your time. How old are you? I'm sorry, I can't really hide my absolute curiosity about you. I want to ask you so many questions, but first tell me how you're feeling.
My world, if I had to describe it in a couple of words, is very blue and yellow. It's blue in winters and yellow in summers. We have two seasons now, although a hundred years ago spring and autumn still existed. My mum used to tell me about them when I was little; she told me that I would be a spring boy since I was born in March. Now it's just summer. The climate has changed suddenly, around 2039, and the whole equator line was flooded, as you may have read in History. In summers it's very dusty now, with strong winds, sandstorms and droughts. In winters, it rains. I wish you could see how beautiful some trees bloom during the flood season. The pollen is washed along the streets like powder.
My Seoul is very colourful. I live in Mapo-gu, and the street below the windows of my apartment is lit with neon lights at night. During the rain season, it might be one of the prettiest places on Earth. I am attaching the picture. I'm telling all this just to yap, really, because I have no news of essence for you, and I don't really know if you still want to speak to me like we used to.
I have a cat. His name is Tang. He is black like space :) When I travel to the collider tunnels for work, space looks absolutely black, with only the sun as the only source of light. Our planet is also yellow and blue. It's flooded in some places and absolutely dry in others. We live on the verge of this duality: Earth is completely exhausted in some places, but positively blooming and rapidly transforming in others.
How are you doing? I think by now I am forced to disclose what is happening, to the Big Poking authorities. I have passed over all my findings and the materials you'd sent, I hope you don't mind. Nothing much is needed from you in that department, only, I may ask you to send a comprehensive DNA breakdown. Of yourself. That is - so I can deduce what colour your eyes are, since you're so stubborn. You can imagine the ripples your existence has sent around on my planet. Our book booth has become the spot of special interest and I had to actually fight (physically) with some people so that I could keep our correspondence more or less confidential. I have signed a document which requires me to report all the important information you give me about your world.
We also have to be extremely careful about contamination - now that we exchange more than books. So please do not bring anything other than paper stuff: books, letters, pictures are alright, but we can't be sure about other things until we have studied the cellular buildup of the objects from your brane. Make sure to check them for bugs, dust, threads and all other tiny things.
My colleagues are sending a big hello to you but please don't leave them any messages. Let's just say I am the only appointed spokesperson in this :)
I brought you a collection of poetry by Jimyung. Back to our topic of the low quality of modern lit... they call it poems. Sort of weird to go back to the normal conversation...
However, that mess of disjointed thought still gives you a picture of how modern humans feel. We have left the Filter in what feels like yesterday... we are travelling in space. And we are about two hundred years away from becoming completely immortal. And yet, we feel exceptionally lonely. I think it will tell you something if I let you know a hundred and thirteen people committed suicide after the news about you broke out. But way more people celebrated. There are thirteen billion of us, and we aren't lonely anymore, even if the wormhole is just small enough to only pass a book.
Miss you :)
Yoongi"
You caught a cold and, instead of the trip you'd planned so meticulously, had to stay home. Needless to say, you didn't get half as upset as you would have, if life had stayed oridnary.
Now you stayed in bed, the new letters from Yoongi spread out on your right, and with the thin white book on your lap, reading what he had labelled a talentless poetry. Obviously, you didn't know anything about Jimyung and whether even it was a man or a woman, or if that world didn't care much about gender. The book was extremely simplistic in design and introductory content, likely on purpose: minimum text on the cover and under it, and the thick pages with little poems - short, unrhymed, and very human.
I look
at the seagull perching on a wire.
In the evening,
it cries short, and
during the day, it shrieks like a child.
Which one is the real call?
To be honest, it didn't make a lot of sense. These poems looked like someone tried hard to push essence where there was none. Convoluted, raw.
You found one relevant poem though:
The serpent around the Earth
Spins black and glowing, flashes in the night.
Saturn's rings are elegant and thin,
ours is chunky and loud.
This must be about the AESPC the collider, right? The serpent around the planet... Gravitons, those parts that you managed to read and comprehend before Jungkook irreversibly nicked the book away, mentioned that the quantum antimatter collider was just too huge and dangerous to operate on Earth, so they moved it to the orbit. Yeah, just like that. A megastructure circling the whole planet, apparently visible in the sky above.
Jimyung was unhappy about everything. They had poems about how the weather is shit, and how humans are cruel, and how space is so lonely, and Earth is shit. It put you in a state of irritation. You kept looking at the photograph of the street Yoongi had attached to the letter. Without knowing the context, you would've said it's an image thought up by AI. He was right: it was significantly blue. Clean, wet street below, with built-in neon lights in the ground, and the electric tall lamps. It glowed in pearl-blue and pink, not irritating the eye, providing tender light. Soft cyberpunk future. You didn't know how you felt about it being the place Min Yoongi supposedly lived. The mind wasn't doing a good job realizing that this image is a slice of a parallel world.
You still didn't know how you felt about the whole thing and whether you believed it. Jungkook was hopping up above the clouds. You did not know what he was doing with Gravitons: reread it again and again? Showed to his classmates who worked at the Seoul University?
You were still holding back, muted, uncertain, afraid to be humiliated more than you were ready to be happy that something so completely mind-boggling happened.
You (almost) liked only one poem from that book, because it was old and familiar heartbreak, human as anything. Even if consisting of some alien parts:
I cannot recall
The sting of bee
on my brownish skin;
Iron flesh is colder than before.
I recall the kiss
and the apple smell
and the oldest song
On Earth,
When can We meet Again?
"Wow, this is shit", you said, passing the pages through your fingers in hopes that something will catch your eye.
Then you fell asleep.
"Hey Mr. Alien.
I fell a little sick, caught a cold because me and my brother went to the beach, and it started raining.
By the way, I told my brother, Jungkook, about you and your brane. It feels a little ridiculous to just write it like this, as if it's not the most important thing that's ever happened in human history. But I guess someone has to be in the center of it? That is, if everything you say is true. My brain refuses to believe you fully and I think I will stay in this state of distrust until I happen to travel to your dimension, if it's even possible. So I am taking it all like another story - interactive now. Now, we are in the book. I am the main character, and you're the scientist character.
You'd asked some time ago - and I did stamp the pictures, but I will write it again. The year is 2026, it's August, and after it, there will be autumn. My brother was born on the first day of autumn. He is the gifted one in the family. I think your book on gravitons has changed his life. He would've also been some kind of scientist if he hadn't loved money too much, hahaha. He is in management, and recently, he started a gyms accessories business, and it's developed really well. He bought a big house.
But he is also very intelligent. Always been good with maths which I absolutely hate. I've been wondering if, in the right hands, your books from the future can help develop stuff in our world. Is it too simplistic of a view? I think, though, most people will not take any of this seriously. Even if the public learns about the graviton book, it will stay an urban legend, blending in with other half-truths, like the time machine that was allegedly invented by a dude who later went missing. Into the past, lol.
I have several questions.
How did you guys cure cancer?
How far into the space do you travel? Do you have ionic engines or use reverse propulsion?
Do you actually create wormholes? Are they really stable? How come our book booth wormhole is so consistent and safe?
How many oceans do you have?
How many months do you have?
Send pictures of Tang.
Do you have flying cars?
What is your economy model?
How tall are you? What do you mean when you say your humanity is lonely? There are three types of loneliness: emotional, social and existential. Which one is it? Do you have close friends? What do you do in your free time?
What is the name of the flower you drew for me in the Art of Loving?
Do you have Netflix? Do you have lemonades? What flavours?
How often do you go to the orbit?
I can go on.
As I understand it, a brane does not necessarily only contain one planet, right? It's a whole Universe here. Everything we know and see, and beyond, is still on the surface of one single brane. So, there could be life on other planets and in the other corners of my own Universe, the one that is 13.8 billion years old. We still haven't made contact with any alien life here. And the same for you? Or do you already know some local aliens? How funny is it that I happened to stumble upon an interdimensional scientist before I heard about aliens on Pluto?
This poetry book was so bad I almost threw it away and only kept it because it's an artefact from another world. Thank you. Have you read Childhood's End? What philosophical ideas are dominating your world right now?
Have a good Sunday, whatever that is.
y/n"
"Hey Ms. Alien.
Please take care of yourself. Since you have sea, use sea salt to gurgle your throat if it's sore. Do you swim? How are you feeling?
For Jungkook, if he is interested, I am attaching the blueprints and books for:
water-based engine car
our collider (biggest pile)
quantum medical laser
meat producer (artificial meat)
and for the Dyson Sphere, not an instruction, but a pop sci book; it was decided collectively that this is the only one the specialists aren't ready to share yet (as if the collider blueprints aren't dangerous info, considering how much nuclear power it produces), as your civilization is too volatile and conflict-prone.
He can use them however he wants. We are, obviously, interested in the technical progress of your planet. I'm not saying I think your brother is your Earth's lead engineer, but just let this information be out there.
About the Childhood's End: I love that book. Your version is the same as mine. People usually consider the ending upsetting - and I can't see it. It's more of inevitability than villainousness in my opinion. Isn't the achievement of one cosmic mind an ultimate goal of any life? Maybe not even goal, but a natural chain of consequences?
My height is 190 centimeters. I have black hair :) Me and Tang look a little similar. I don't know who took after who.
We cured cancer by gradually updating our immune system and curing the rogue cells. It's fascinating how the principle of cancer is similar to ASPD found in people. A cell suddenly decides to go against the current, and I love divergence as much as the next guy, but we both know there is fun, quirky divergence, and there's psychopathy. Just like we got rid of human psychopathy through intense therapy, bettering of labour conditions and societal change, we cured the psychopathy of cells. People rarely have cancer anymore, and it's mostly stomach type, and it's cured within a week. It is not a chronic condition anymore.
We use reverse propulsion indeed, but for farther travel, we use the wormholes. In order to get to Alpha Centauri even, you need to cheat, otherwise it's just too long. I myself am a patient person, but even for me, flying seventy five thousand years to fetch some rocks is too much. The farthest we've ever gone is Vega, and, believe it or not, it's thanks to Carl Sagan. Have you read the Contact? Maybe the humanity's best trait, on any brane, is the ability to become so incredibly stubborn over an obsession, that it transcends time and space. Vega is 25 light years away, and I want to clarify that we aren't yet a Star Trek (do you have it?) civilization: we don't just jump from one spot in space to another. Our wormhole travel is much more complicated and restricted - for now. We create a series of highly unstable holes and hop on them one by one. There's a limit to about just four holes in one short trip, and the engines die, so these trips are incredibly expensive, still long and dangerous. But we got there. That's the most important part. I've never been to space further than the collider; I'm not an astronaut. But I saw pictures from Mr. Philip, Vega's moon, because you can't actually land on a star :) It's a beautiful grey and green rock with frequent stripes.
Back to wormholes: the principle of creating one comes from our old friend collider. Using enhanced plasma rays, you collide a handful of heavy particles at incredible acceleration, and you get a wormhole. Regulators help control the size and the shape, but what we cannot control is how long it's going to exist until it collapses onto itself. It does not expand to consume everything around, as people once used to fear. Wormholes are not necessarily the same as black holes.
The wormhole through which we communicate also does not have guarantee, y/n. It's just my hope that, since it's been there for months, it will continue to exist. But it could close any time and any day. Thankfully, now that other people are aware of this contact, some experts smarter than me are working on acquiring your coordinates. The thing they cannot learn though, is the colour of your hair. :)
We have two oceans: Pacific and the West Ocean.
We have 12 months. When were you born? I was born in the beginning of March.
You always seemed reserved and I always felt like an excited puppy annoying you with my questions, I hope you don't mind them.
We live in capitalism, just like you. We don't have flying cars, they are too harmful for climate. The reverse propulsion technology as of now is too expensive to use for public transport.
I think our biggest problem is the existential loneliness. When I was in school, and the nature started to change, many types of birds went extinct. The times were much worse than now. By 2112, we managed to bring back most of the breeds that have died during the big climate change in the middle of the century. But back then, I think, all of us acquired the trauma of realizing how much we've destroyed. It never went away. Sometimes I still mistake the real birds cries for the street audio frauds that they used to put out to stop people from killing themselves. I think at some point, when we were at risk of a great planetary extinction, we felt cornered and suddenly looked up at the completely empty space and felt incredibly stupid and incredibly alone. We fucked up our own planet and still haven't found any friends and companions on others. And no, life seems to be rare in our part of the Multiverse. So rare and spread out, in fact, that we sooner established contact with a neighbouring brane than found life on Europa. Not even a puny microbe anywhere. It's truly depressing. Think about it: a life may exist for millions of years while even one Universe inside the cosmos, stretches on for dozens of billions of years and never deflates. Some civilizations may have sparked up, developed, lived their incredible histories, and died out without ever getting a chance to find out that they were late or early to hear others. I am thinking that the default state of the whole world is death, and life is an anomaly.
That is why I am really afraid of the book booth hole suddenly collapsing. We can't really influence it, though.
I have several close friends, although we are all busy because they are all my work colleagues. My best friend's name is Jimin. He is a computer scientist. I fix plasma, and he programs the tubes to shoot it into the tunnel. He's really smart.
By the way, Kim Namjoon who has written the book about gravitons - he is sort of my friend too. He's a colleague of a colleague and we met a couple of times during some work events. He's alright. Much, much taller than me.
In my free time I write you letters or walk around the city. I spend a lot of time with Tang since he is a house cat and doesn't leave the apartment. His mental health is not really good, because when he was a kitten (before I took him in), he fell out of the window on the tenth floor. He didn't break anything, but got really scared, and he's been anxious all his life. He gets lonely if I leave for a long time. I don't know what to do with him, really. He is like a human child. He likes being carried around and is very capricious. He has so many toys I can't count them.
The flower I drew for you is called smeraldo flower. It's a mix breed between hydrangeas and anemones. They grow in the local botanical garden. They are pearl-blue, and a little iridescent. I put in a picture for you, as well.
We do have Netflix. And lemonades. I like cranberry Sprite the most. Tang likes water.
I rarely visit the collider itself. Maybe once in three months. And it's not super exciting. The best part is seeing the sun. It's completely blinding.
The biggest existential problem for us now is the survival of our planet. It's been so for the last hundred years. We haven't had any wars in about three hundred years. The crime in my country is very low. We live in democracy. Human rights are strictly upheld. And yet we still aren't happy because we keep feeling like we are residing on a sinking ship. It's sad when I think about it. I wouldn't want to leave, like most people are preparing to. There's Eden project that is set to resurrect 100% of the extinct species, whether animals or plants, by the year 2150 (not dinosaurs though). Now, we are at around 75% and we are running out of resources, so the end date keeps getting postponed. I hope I see it in my lifetime. I hope I see the shoebill stork I read about in school.
I am trailing away. I hope you feel better by now. Ask more questions, I will answer them all.
Yoongi :)"
This time the encyclopedia sat much higher than before because Yoongi truly brought up a massive pile of works. There were several textbooks and blueprint collections bound tightly together, all of them completely filled with incomprehensible schemes, diagrams, shapes, bazillion of equations and mechanical drawings. These were the Bibles of the future engineering. You got tired while carrying it all home and called up Jungkook and read the long letter while he sat on the floor, completely losing his voice upon gasping at what he was seeing. You thought you knew enough how intelligent your brother was, so half of the time he gasped just out of excitement, and not because he understood the blueprints for a quantum medical laser.
"I will bring these to professor Kim", he was muttering, papers spread on the floor in between his legs.
"What are you giggling at?" he squinted at you. Raised his shoulders, and you instinctively pressed the letter to yourself because your body knew before you, that Jungkook was about to wrestle you.
"Get off me", you laughed, your hand outstretched to keep the letter untorn.
"He needs your DNA?" Jungkook panted, trying to fold you in two. Completely unaware of his size like a teenage tiger, he pushed you onto the couch, and you realized anew how much closer you grew over just two weeks. Like before, in schooltime, when you could see each other every day. Your breath got knocked out of you.
Even if this all was a ridiculous lie, something good came out of it.
"Spit! I will extract it", he commanded. His hand slapped your cheek lightly. You groaned with disgust and started kicking like crazy. Something was deeply wrong with this boy.
omg gilded cage is SO GOOD I am on the edge of my couch waiting to see what happens when Jungkook finds out who has her!! 💜 youre an awesome writer!
I'm thinking if I should post the next four parts at the same time like yesterday or post one part at a time. Hmm, so many options 🥲 i am confused. Just to give a heads-up, i finished writing the next four chapters already!
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.
read on Wattpad!
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
"You will be protected under my name, and you will finally see the world. But in return... I want your signature. I want your empire. I want all of your power as the true Jung heir.”
The raw intensity in his dark eyes left you completely breathless. Your jaw was securely held in his large, warm palm, his thumb resting just beneath your lower lip. You could feel the dangerous magnetism radiating off him—the subtle scent of expensive woodsmoke and mint wrapping around your senses.
He was offering you a deal with the devil himself.
"M-Married?" you stammered, your voice trembling against his fingers. "But you said... you said you wouldn't marry me in the garden."
"That was before I knew exactly who you were," Jungkook murmured, his grip tightening just a fraction, a dark, calculating tilt to his lips. "And before I realized your father was trying to sell your birthright to my competitors. I don't let anyone threaten my supremacy, Y/N. Especially not using an empire that legally belongs to you."
You stared up at him, your mind racing. You had spent your entire life praying for a savior, dreaming of a way past those massive iron gates. Now, the King of the underworld was laying the entire world at your feet—but it came with a heavy price tag.
"If I sign..." you whispered, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. "If I give you my empire... will you really let me see the outside world? Will I finally be free?"
Jungkook let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right through you. He slowly released your jaw, his hand dropping back to his side as he took a step back, giving you room to breathe.
"You'll have your freedom, sweetheart," he promised, his voice dripping with smooth authority. "You'll go wherever you want, buy whatever you want, and live the life your father denied you. My name will be your shield. No one in the underworld will ever dare touch you again."
He walked back over to his desk, picking up a sleek fountain pen and a set of official, legal documents bearing the gilded Jeon crest. He turned around, holding the pen out to you.
"But make no mistake," Jungkook added, his expression turning cold and businesslike, the brief warmth completely vanishing from his eyes. "This marriage is strictly business. You give me the Jung Empire, and I give you the world. Do we have a deal?"
You looked at the papers, then down at your own hands. You knew you were trading one master for another. You knew this man was dangerous, cold, and using you as a pawn in his grand game of chess.
But as you remembered the suffocating walls of the Jung mansion and the forced wedding you had just escaped, you knew there was no going back. You wanted to live. Even if it was inside the devil's territory.
Stepping forward, you took the pen from his massive hand, your fingers briefly brushing against his.
"We have a deal," you said softly, your voice filled with a sudden, quiet determination.
The heavy fountain pen felt like iron in your hand as you pressed your signature onto the final page of the contract. The dark ink dried quickly against the gilded Jeon crest, sealing your fate with a definitive quietness.
Jungkook watched your hand move, his eyes tracking every stroke. The moment you finished, he picked up the papers, tapping them neatly against the mahogany surface of his desk before locking them inside a secure drawer.
"Welcome to the family, Y/N," he said softly, though there was nothing warm about his tone. It was the voice of a man who had just successfully closed a multi-billion-dollar acquisition.
He walked out from behind his desk, leaning his hip against the edge of the wood, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His posture was imposing, radiating the effortless authority that you were slowly realizing was just his natural state of being.
"Since the paperwork is finalized, it’s time to establish the rules of your new life," Jungkook stated, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Your father built a prison of stone and silence. I don't operate that way. You wanted the outside world? You'll have it. But freedom under my roof comes with conditions."
You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump of anxiety in your throat. "What are the rules?"
Jungkook reached into his pocket and slid a sleek, unbranded black titanium card across the desk toward you. It caught the dim lighting of the office, looking dangerously elegant.
"Rule number one: financial absolute," Jungkook said. "That card has no limit. Buy whatever you want. A new wardrobe, jewelry, cars, properties, I don't care. If you are going to carry the Jeon name, you will look like royalty, not a hidden secret. Use it freely."
You looked down at the black card, your fingers trembling slightly as you picked it up. To a normal person, it was a dream. To you, it was a bizarre, overwhelming token of a world you didn't understand.
"Rule number two," Jungkook continued, his voice dropping into a firmer, unyielding register. "You do not step foot outside this estate alone. Ever." He pointed toward the double doors, where the shadows of two massive, armed men could be seen through the frosted glass. "Kim Taehyung has assigned a personal security detail to you. They will follow you to the mall, to a restaurant, to the ends of the earth. They are not there to cage you. They are there to keep you alive. If you try to shake them, your freedom is revoked immediately."
"I understand," you whispered. After a lifetime of being guarded by men who kept you locked in a room, having guards who actually escorted you out felt like a massive upgrade. "And the last rule?"
Jungkook stepped closer, closing the distance between you until his towering frame completely shadowed yours. The faint scent of mint and leather washed over you again, dizzying and intoxicating.
"Rule number three: the curfew," he murmured, leaning down slightly so his eyes were level with yours. "You can explore the city from sunrise to sunset. But when the night falls, you return to this estate. You sleep under my roof. You are my wife now, Y/N. The entire underworld is going to be looking for a weakness in my armor, and I will not let them find it in a girl who forgot to check the time."
He stared at you, waiting for a protest, waiting for the hidden princess to throw a tantrum about her new boundaries. But instead, you just looked up at him with wide, remarkably resilient eyes.
"A black card, my own guards, and a curfew," you summarized softly, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips for the first time. "Compared to what my father had planned for me... your cage feels exceptionally large, Mr. Jeon."
Jungkook’s eyebrows rose slightly, a genuine flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced by a low, dangerous smirk. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing against the fabric of your sleeve.
"Let's hope you still feel that way in a month, sweetheart," he whispered. "Now go. Taehyung is waiting downstairs to introduce your security. Welcome to the real world.”
°
The heavy double doors of the estate kitchen felt incredibly intimidating. When you pushed them open, you expected a interrogation room, but instead, you found a space that looked like a five-star culinary theater.
And standing right in the center, next to a mountain of fresh vegetables, raw meat, and various spices, was Madam Jeon. She wore a pristine linen apron over her expensive silk dress, a sharp paring knife held perfectly in her hand.
"Shut the door," she commanded without looking up, her blade slicing through a stalk of lemongrass with terrifying precision.
You quietly closed the door and stepped inside. "You asked to see me, Madam Jeon?"
The matriarch finally paused, turning her sharp, discerning eyes onto you. "A Jeon daughter-in-law is the heart of the household. In our world, restaurants can be compromised, and private chefs can be bought. Knowing exactly what goes into the food that feeds this family is a matter of survival, not just luxury. Today, you will prepare a traditional three-course meal with me."
Your stomach instantly dropped. Your throat went completely dry as you looked at the array of knives, sizzling pans, and unfamiliar ingredients.
"Well? Don't just stand there like a statue. Tie your hair back, wash your hands, and start by dicing those onions and preparing the base marinade," Madam Jeon ordered, her voice clipped and demanding.
You walked over to the marble island, your hands trembling as you picked up a heavy chef’s knife. You held it awkwardly, your fingers slipping against the handle. You had never held a knife like this before. You didn't even know where to slice first.
Madam Jeon’s eyes narrowed instantly, watching your clumsy movements. "What are you doing? Why are you holding the blade like a child playing with a toy?"
"I..." You swallowed hard, the humiliation burning in your chest. "I don't know how to dice an onion, Madam Jeon. I don't know how to prepare a marinade."
The older woman set her own knife down with a sharp, echoing clack against the counter. "What do you mean you don't know? You are twenty-something years old. Are you telling me you've never stepped foot in a kitchen?"
"I wasn't allowed to," you confessed, your voice dropping into a quiet, painful whisper as you stared down at the wooden cutting board. "Back at the Jung estate... I was locked in the north wing. The maids brought my meals to my room three times a day on a tray. I wasn't allowed near the stoves. I wasn't allowed to touch the knives. My father didn't want me to have any tools that could be used as a weapon, or any reason to interact with the staff. I was just... fed."
The kitchen went completely silent, save for the low hum of the massive refrigerators.
You braced yourself for pity, or perhaps a lecture, but when you looked up, you only saw Madam Jeon staring at you with a cold, deeply disappointed expression. She let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, shaking her head.
"A total blank slate," Madam Jeon muttered, her tone dripping with disapproval. "Your father didn't just hide you, child. He disabled you. He made sure you were entirely dependent, a useless ornament."
The word useless stung like a slap to the face.
"Jungkook thinks he bought a priceless weapon to crush the Jungs," the matriarch continued, stepping closer to you, her glare piercing through your defenses. "But right now, I see a girl who cannot even feed herself without a servant. If the men are at war and the staff is compromised, you would starve in your own home. How can you protect my grandson's legacy when you are completely helpless in a basic kitchen?"
She reached out, snatched the chef's knife directly from your weak grip, and tossed it back onto the counter.
"I am thoroughly disappointed," Madam Jeon stated flatly, turning her back on you to resume her work. "A Jeon woman must be made of steel, but you are barely even iron. Get out of my sight. Go back to your room and wait for Jungkook.”
°
The walk back to your bedroom felt miles longer than the journey to the kitchen. Madam Jeon’s harsh words echoed in your ears, each syllable a reminder of how thoroughly your father had stripped away your independence.
A useless ornament. Barely even iron.
The moment you closed the bedroom door, the tears you had been fighting back finally spilled over. You threw yourself onto the plush mattress, curling up into a ball. You weren't crying because you were weak; you were crying because you were furious. Furious at your father, furious at the cage, and furious that even out here, you were still being judged for a life you never chose.
Hours bled into the evening. You remained on the bed, staring blankly at the wall, your expression a mixture of a stubborn pout and dried tear tracks.
The heavy click of the bedroom door opening cut through the silence.
You didn't look up, but the commanding, heavy footsteps told you exactly who it was. Jungkook stepped into the dimly lit room, loosening his dark silk tie with one hand. He stopped at the edge of the bed, his dark eyes instantly locking onto your pouting form.
"Why the long face?" Jungkook asked, his deep baritone laced with a hint of amusement. He walked over to the velvet armchair nearby, dropping his jacket onto it, before stepping right back up to the side of the bed. "Come here."
You blinked, slowly sitting up on the mattress, your knees pulled to your chest. "Why?"
"Come closer," he repeated, a low, unyielding command.
Sighing, you crawled to the edge of the bed until you were sitting right in front of him. Because he was standing and you were sitting, his towering frame completely dominated your field of vision. Jungkook slowly reached out, his long fingers trailing up to the collar of his crisp white dress shirt.
"Unbutton it," he murmured, his gaze holding yours hostage.
Your breath caught. A fierce blush crept up your neck, hot and sudden, painting your cheeks a deep crimson. Your hands shook slightly as you reached out, your fingers brushing against the warm skin of his chest as you fumbled with the first silver button.
"I... I had a talk with your grandmother," you confessed quietly, focusing entirely on his shirt to avoid his piercing eyes.
"Did you?" Jungkook asked, not moving an inch as you successfully undone the second button. "What did she say?"
"She wanted me to cook. A three-course meal," you muttered, your pout returning as the memory stung. "And I couldn't do it. I didn't even know how to hold the knife properly. She called me a useless ornament, Jungkook. She said I was completely helpless and that she was thoroughly disappointed in me."
You popped the third button open, your fingers resting against the firm plane of his chest. "My father never let me near the kitchens. He didn't want me to have anything that could be used as a weapon. It's not my fault I don't know how."
Jungkook let out a low, gravelly hum. He didn't look angry, nor did he look disappointed. Instead, his large hand reached down, his fingers gently catching your chin and tilting your blushing face up so you had to look at him.
"My grandmother looks at the world through a keyhole of traditions," Jungkook said smoothly, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against your jawline. "She expects a soldier. But I didn't marry you for your cooking skills, Y/N. I married you for your empire. Don't let her words get under your skin."
He released your chin and reached into his trousers pocket, pulling out a sleek, brand-new, customized smartphone. He dropped it into your lap, right next to the black credit card from earlier.
"What is... this?" you asked, staring at the glossy screen. You had mobiles and laptop plenty of times but you weren't allowed to use them or touch them.
"Your phone," Jungkook replied, a small, dark smirk playing on his lips as he finished pulling his shirt out of his trousers himself. "My personal number is already saved into it. Along with Taehyung’s and your security detail."
He leaned down, his face a mere breath away from yours, his dark eyes burning with a sudden, protective intensity.
"Tomorrow morning, Minho will be waiting at the gates," Jungkook murmured, his voice a low promise. "Take the card. Take the phone. Go out into the city and buy whatever catches your eye. Go see what the outside world looks like. Just remember the curfew, sweetheart.”
You stared down at the sleek smartphone in your lap, then looked back up into his captivating, dark eyes. The thought of stepping out into a massive, unfamiliar city alone with a silent bodyguard suddenly felt terrifying. You didn't know how the world worked. You didn't know how to look at a menu, how to pay for things, or where to walk.
The only anchor you had in this strange new reality was the man standing right in front of you.
"Jungkook?" you asked innocently, your voice soft and pleading as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. "Can... can you come with me? Just for the first time? I don't know anything out there. I trust you."
The moment the word trust left your lips, the air in the room shifted, turning instantly heavy and dangerous.
Jungkook didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he looked down at your face. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out. His large, warm hand cupped your jaw, his long fingers wrapping firmly around the bone, tilting your head back until you were completely forced to meet his gaze.
He leaned down, closing the distance between you until your breaths mingled in the small space separating your lips. You were completely taken aback by his sudden, suffocating closeness. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird, your cheeks flushing a deep, burning crimson as you felt the sheer heat radiating from his chest.
"Listen to me carefully, sweetheart," Jungkook murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly whisper that vibrated right through your skin. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, a touch that was both gentle and terrifyingly possessive.
"In this world, trust gets you killed," he said, his pitch-black orbs pinning you in place. "And inside this house, the only person you shouldn't trust... is me."
You swallowed hard, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. "Why?" you breathed out, barely able to find your voice.
"Because I am not your savior, Y/N," Jungkook whispered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, sending a violent shiver down your spine. "I am a businessman who bought your empire. If you put your faith in me, I will dismantle you until there's nothing left. Remember who I am."
He held your gaze for one more agonizing, heart-stopping second, letting the warning sink deep into your mind. Then, just as suddenly as he had caught you, he released his grip on your jaw and stepped back, his expression returning to a cold, unreadable mask.
°
The next morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon when the heavy wooden door of your room clicked open.
You were already dressed in a simple, elegant cream sweater and a pair of dark trousers—clothes that felt wonderfully light compared to the suffocating silk and lace of your old life. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your new phone in your hands, trying to figure out how the glowing screen worked, when Jungkook stepped inside.
He was fully dressed in a flawlessly tailored, charcoal-grey three-piece suit. He looked every bit the ruthless, powerful executive he was, but as his eyes landed on you, his expression softened by a fraction.
"Change of plans," he said, his deep baritone cutting through the quiet room. "I have a meeting at the city center this morning. You’re coming with me."
Your eyes widened, a sudden spark of pure excitement lighting up your face. "Really? You're coming?"
"Only for the drive," he clarified, though a tiny, almost imperceptible tilt of his lips betrayed his cold demeanor. "Minho will still accompany you once we arrive. But I don't want you getting lost before you even make it to the city gates. Let's go."
Minutes later, you were sitting in the plush, leather backseat of his armored SUV. The engine purred to life, and as the massive iron gates of the Jeon estate slowly swung open, your breath caught in your throat.
For the first time in your entire life, there was no wall stopping you.
As the car smoothly merged onto the highway, you pressed your face almost entirely against the glass window. Your eyes danced, wide with absolute wonder, taking in everything—the towering glass skyscrapers reflecting the morning sun, the colorful billboards, the bustling crowds of people walking on the sidewalks, and the endless stream of cars.
It was a chaotic, beautiful, living world, and you were finally a part of it.
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, a radiant, innocent smile spreading across your face.
Jungkook sat beside you, a tablet in his hand, supposedly reviewing a transaction ledger. But his dark eyes weren't on the screen. He was watching you.
He watched how your fingers lightly touched the glass, how your lips parted in pure awe at the sight of a simple park, and how your entire being seemed to glow just from a simple car ride. It was a level of pure, unadulterated happiness that he had never witnessed in his dark, blood-soaked world.
Jungkook slowly shook his head, a low, quiet chuckle escaping his chest. It was absurd. He was the head of the most feared syndicate in the country, and he was currently chauffeuring a girl who was losing her mind over a highway billboard.
But as he continued to stare at your profile, a darker, heavier warmth began to coil deep in his chest.
Innocent.
You were so incredibly, dangerously innocent. You were a completely blank canvas, untouched by the cruelty, the blood, and the corruption of the underworld he ruled.
And you belonged to him.
The thought struck him with a sudden, intoxicating force. Your father had hidden you away, keeping you pristine, only for you to fall directly into his hands.
To know that something this pure, this soft, and this beautifully innocent was now legally, bound-by-blood his to protect and his to slowly stain, corrupt, and ruin—sent a dark, thrill of heat straight through his veins.
His gaze darkened, his knuckles tightening slightly against the edge of his tablet as his eyes dragged down to your soft, laughing lips. He was going to teach you everything about the dark world. He was going to pull you into his shadow, and he was going to make sure you never wanted to leave it.
"Y/N," he murmured, his voice suddenly dropping into a low, raspy register.
You pulled your face away from the window, turning to look at him with wide, bright eyes. "Yes?"
Jungkook reached out, his long fingers slowly wrapping around your wrist, pulling you just a fraction closer to him on the leather seat. The heat of his palm was burning.
"Keep your eyes on the window, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with a possessive fire that made your breath hitch. "Enjoy the light while you can.”
The SUV pulled up to the private entrance of the towering Jeon Corporation headquarters. Minho quickly opened the door, and as you stepped out onto the bustling city street, the sheer noise and scale of the towering glass skyscraper made your head spin.
Instinctively, your hand reached out. Your fingers curled into the expensive fabric of Jungkook's charcoal-grey suit sleeve, holding on tightly.
Jungkook paused, his dark eyes dropping to your small hand gripping his arm. Any other person would have been reprimanded or worse for touching him so familiarly, especially in front of his employees. But Jungkook didn't pull away.
As you walked through the grand marble lobby, your wide eyes darted to the massive digital displays, the elegant water features, and the dozens of employees who instantly bowed their heads in deep respect as Jungkook passed. You walked close to his side, practically hiding in his shadow, still tugging innocently on his sleeve.
Taehyung was waiting by the private executive elevators. When the doors slid open and he saw you practically glued to Jungkook's arm, his eyebrows shot up in sheer surprise. He looked at Jungkook, silently asking if he should intervene, but Jungkook merely gave him a subtle, warning glance.
"She stays in my office during the briefing," Jungkook commanded smoothly as the elevator shot upward.
"Understood," Taehyung murmured, a faint, amused smirk playing on his lips. "The board is already waiting in the conference room."
When you reached the penthouse suite, Jungkook led you into his massive private office. It was even grander than the penthouse at his estate, overlooking the entire skyline through floor-to-ceiling glass walls.
"Sit. Explore. Don't touch the files on the desk," Jungkook instructed, his voice dropping into a low, surprisingly gentle register as he looked down at you. "I'll be back in an hour."
You nodded, finally letting go of his sleeve. Once the heavy doors closed behind him and Taehyung, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You spent the next hour wandering around the sleek room.
You pressed your hands against the warm glass of the window, staring down at the cars that looked like tiny ants below. You traced the spine of the heavy leather books on his shelves, completely fascinated by the sheer power this man commanded.
Exactly an hour later, the doors clicked open. Jungkook walked back in alone, loosening the top button of his vest. He looked tired, but the moment his eyes landed on you sitting on the edge of his leather sofa, his expression hardened into something focused and intense.
He walked over to his desk, but instead of sitting, he retrieved a small, velvet-lined box from his drawer.
With slow, deliberate steps, he closed the distance between you. He stood directly over you, his shadow swallowing you whole. He reached out and gently took your left hand, his warm, large fingers tracing the delicate skin of your palm.
"I told you this marriage was business, Y/N," Jungkook murmured, his deep baritone sending a shiver straight down your spine. "But in our world, business must look like absolute devotion."
He popped open the velvet box. Inside lay a ring. It wasn't a traditional diamond; it was a stunning, rare black diamond, cut into a perfect cushion shape, set upon a band of dark, polished platinum. It looked dark, elegant, and dangerously beautiful.
Your breath caught in your throat. "Jungkook..."
"Give me your hand," he whispered, his dark eyes holding yours hostage.
You slowly held out your hand, your fingers trembling slightly. Jungkook slid the heavy ring onto your ring finger.
The metal was cool against your skin, but the heat of his touch was burning. He didn't let go of your hand once the ring was secured. Instead, he pulled you up from the sofa, bringing your body flush against his broad chest.
The proximity was intoxicating. You could hear the steady, heavy beat of his heart.
"From this moment on, you wear this," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly promise as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple. "You are mine. The world will see this on your finger and know that to touch you is to beg for death. Do you understand?"
You stared up into his pitch-black orbs, completely captured by the dangerous warmth radiating from him. You nodded slowly, your heart hammering wildly.
"Yes, Jungkook," you whispered.
A dark, possessive smirk played on his lips as his hand traveled from your wrist up to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling slightly in your hair, holding you closer than ever. "Good girl.”
He stepped back, his hand slowly sliding away from your neck, though his dark, possessive gaze lingered on your face for a beat longer. He cleared his throat, his expression instantly shifting back to his professional, untouchable mask.
"Let's go for lunch," he said, adjusting his cuffs. "Then I have some business to take care of in the lower districts. You can go out with Minho to explore after we eat."
You nodded eagerly, a bright smile instantly replacing your nervous tension. The thought of finally getting to walk around the city streets was thrilling. You gathered your new phone and followed him closely as he walked out of the office.
The moment the elevator doors opened on the executive parking level, Taehyung was leaning against the sleek hood of Jungkook’s SUV. He had a smug, playful grin on his face.
"Hello there," Taehyung said, bowing his head slightly toward you with an amused glint in his eyes.
Jungkook immediately stopped, his eyebrows drawing together as he raised a warning brow at his friend. The atmosphere turned slightly protective.
Taehyung just shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets with an easygoing chuckle. "Just introducing myself properly, man. Relax. I don't bite." He turned his attention back to you, his tone warming up. "I'm Taehyung. If this grumpy guy ever locks you up in his office for too long, just text me. I know where all the best dessert places in the city are."
You looked between the two of them like a deer caught in headlights, your wide eyes darting from Taehyung’s bright, friendly face to Jungkook’s dark, unreadable scowl.
"I... I like desserts," you offered innocently, a small, shy smile breaking through your nervousness.
"See? We’re already best friends," Taehyung teased, making small, silly talk with you as he walked alongside you both toward the car. He asked you what your favorite colors were and joked about how Jungkook probably only owned clothes in fifty shades of black.
You found his easy, lighthearted company incredibly comforting compared to the heavy, suffocating silence you were used to. It made the big, scary outside world feel a little more human.
But Jungkook clearly wasn't in the mood for the chatter.
Without a word, he strode right past you, opened the driver's side door of the SUV, and climbed in, leaving you standing on the pavement. He didn't play the gentleman; he didn't open the passenger door for you.
Your lips instantly formed a small, disappointed pout. So much for the grand protector, you thought.
Determined to show him you could be independent, you stepped forward to open the heavy, armored passenger door yourself. But you had drastically underestimated how heavy the reinforced door of the vehicle actually was.
You grabbed the handle and yanked it with all your might. The door flew open much faster and heavier than you expected, pulling you forward. At the exact same time, your foot caught on the high curb.
"Whoa—"
With a soft gasp, your balance completely gave way. You tripped over your own feet, tumbling forward headfirst into the passenger seat in a flurry of tangled limbs, your purse flying onto the floorboard. You ended up face-down on the leather seat, your legs still dangling awkwardly outside the car.
Taehyung let out a loud, bark of laughter from the pavement, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. "Oh, careful there, princess!"
Jungkook slowly turned his head, staring down at your clumsy, face-down form on his passenger seat. He let out a low, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Get in, Y/N," he muttered, though the subtle twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed his amusement. "Before you break my car.”
You brushed your hair aside, your cheeks flushing a deep pink from the embarrassment of your clumsy entrance. You sat up properly in the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt, letting out a soft, dramatic huff.
Jungkook, however, paid absolutely no attention to your tiny tantrum. He was already back to his usual, stoic self, tapping away and reading something on his tablet, his sharp jawline set in a serious line. You pouted and looked out the window, watching the city blur past.
The SUV eventually pulled up to an incredibly lavish, high-end restaurant in the heart of the city.
As you walked inside, keeping close to Jungkook, you couldn't help but stare. The main dining area was filled with people laughing, talking, and eating a staggering variety of foods you had never even seen before—steaming dishes, colorful desserts, and exotic-looking appetizers. You subconsciously gulped, your stomach letting out a quiet, traitorous rumble.
Jungkook’s sharp ears caught the sound. He glanced down at you, noticing the way your eyes were practically glued to a passing waiter's tray. A very subtle, amused glint passed through his dark eyes.
He led you past the main dining room and up a private set of stairs to the exclusive VIP area. The moment you stepped into the private room, your eyes completely lit up.
The interior was breathtaking—gilded ceilings, cascading crystal chandeliers, and a massive glass wall that overlooked a pristine, private indoor garden. It was like stepping into a dream.
Jungkook sat down across from you, leaning back in his chair. He watched you spin around, taking in every detail of the room with that pure, childlike wonder. For a brief moment, his cold, hardened expression melted into a soft, almost adoring look as he watched you.
When the waiter arrived with a leather-bound menu, Jungkook didn't even hand it to you. He knew you wouldn't know what to choose.
"Bring us the signature truffle pasta, the seared wagyu, the lobster tail, and a selection of your top five desserts," Jungkook ordered smoothly, dismissing the waiter with a brief nod.
"All of that?" you whispered, your eyes wide. "Just for us?"
"For you," Jungkook corrected, resting his chin on his knuckles. "You said you didn't know what the outside world tasted like. Consider this your crash course."
When the food arrived, you were practically glowing. You tried a bite of everything, your face lighting up with absolute bliss with every new flavor. You ate happily, completely forgetting your manners for a moment as you hummed in delight.
Jungkook didn't touch the food. Instead, he pulled a sleek silver case from his pocket, tapped out a cigarette, and lit it. He leaned back, exhaling a thin, slow stream of grey smoke, watching you through the hazy screen. The contrast between his dark, dangerous aura and your bright, messy happiness was striking.
As you chewed on a piece of decadent chocolate cake, your eyes drifted to the glowing cherry of his cigarette. You found the way the smoke curled around his sharp features incredibly mesmerizing.
"I want to try that too," you said suddenly, pointing your fork at the cigarette.
Jungkook stopped mid-inhale. He raised a slow, mocking eyebrow, the corner of his lips pulling into a dry smirk. He took one last drag before holding the cigarette away from you.
"Just because you got a taste of freedom, don't go trying to grab everything, princess," he warned, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. "It’s a dirty habit. It's scary, and it's definitely not for a girl like you."
You didn't shrink back from his warning. Instead, you rested your chin in your hands, looking at him.
He was incredibly intimidating, yes. He was a mafia king who had essentially bought your life. But as you sat across from him, watching him protect you in his own twisted way, feeding you, and giving you the world you had always begged for, you realized something. He was good. Beneath the cold, dangerous exterior, he kept his promises.
You had made the right choice by walking into his cage. And as the sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting his dark, piercing eyes and soft black hair, you couldn't help but think he was devastatingly handsome, too.
You smiled, a genuine, soft expression that reached your eyes.
"Thank you, Jungkook," you said softly, your voice filled with sincere warmth. "For everything."
Jungkook froze for a fraction of a second, his dark eyes locking onto your genuine smile. He slowly extinguished his cigarette in the crystal ashtray, his expression turning unreadable, though a strange, intense heat flickered deep within his gaze.
For a moment, the bustling sounds of the restaurant outside your private room seemed to fade into absolute silence.
Jungkook stared at you, his dark eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher a language he had never learned. In his world, gratitude was always a transaction, and smiles were usually a mask. But yours was entirely real, soft, and directed solely at him.
He slowly sat up, resting his forearms on the edge of the table, leaning in just enough to pull you back into his orbit.
"Don't thank me yet, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a low, warning rumble that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. "You've only seen the gilded parts of my world. The dark parts are still waiting."
Before you could reply, a soft knock on the door broke the heavy tension. The door slid open, and Minho stood there, bowing deeply.
"Boss," Minho said respectfully. "The transport is ready."
Jungkook nodded, his stoic, commanding mask instantly sliding back into place. He stood up, towering over the table, and smoothly buttoned his suit jacket. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering on the dark platinum and black diamond ring resting on your finger.
"I have to go," he said. He reached into his pocket and slid a heavy, engraved brass keycard across the table next to your new phone. "That's for the private elevator at the estate. Minho will take you to the central district now. Buy whatever you want. Explore. But remember..." He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his minty breath brushing your cheek. "...sunset. If you're late, I'll come find you myself."
"I won't be late," you promised, your heart doing a little flutter at the dark promise in his tone.
"Good." He tapped your chin with his knuckle one last time before turning on his heel and exiting the room, his long strides radiating absolute authority.
Once he was gone, you took a deep breath, your cheeks still warm. You looked at Minho, who was waiting patiently by the door.
"Shall we go, Ma'am?" Minho asked politely.
"Yes, please," you said, picking up your new phone, the black credit card, and the keycard.
For the next three hours, you experienced what felt like a lifetime of firsts. Minho escorted you through the most luxurious shopping district in the city. You walked into boutiques where the air smelled of lavender and expensive leather.
At first, you were too shy to touch anything, but Minho gently encouraged you, holding your shopping bags as you slowly began to pick out soft silk pajamas, elegant dresses, and books you had only ever dreamed of reading.
Whenever the store clerks saw the unbranded black titanium card in your hand, their eyes widened, and they bowed so low their foreheads almost touched the counters. You were quickly realizing the terrifying weight the Jeon name carried.
By the time the afternoon began to fade into a warm, golden orange, your feet were aching, but your heart was incredibly full. You were standing in a beautiful, open-air plaza, holding a cup of sweet strawberry boba tea you had insisted on buying, watching a group of street performers play a lively melody on violins.
You leaned against a stone railing, a bright, genuine laugh escaping your lips as one of the performers did a silly spin.
"You look very happy, Mrs. Jeon," Minho noted quietly from a respectful distance behind you.
"I am," you breathed, watching the golden sunlight dance across the plaza. "I've never felt so...free."
But as the sun began to dip lower, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and crimson, you remembered Jungkook's warning. *Sunset. If you're late, I'll come find you myself.*
"Minho," you said, turning around with a slight panic in your eyes. "We should go back. The sun is setting."
"Of course, Ma'am. The car is parked just around the block."
As you walked down a quieter, tree-lined side street toward the parking structure, the lively sounds of the plaza began to fade, replaced by an eerie, sudden quiet. The shadows of the tall buildings stretched long and dark across the pavement.
Suddenly, Minho stopped in his tracks.
His hand instantly went to the inside of his suit jacket, his posture turning rigid and lethal. "Mrs. Jeon. Step behind me. Now."
Before you could even ask why, the screech of tires echoed through the quiet street. A heavy black van swerved cornering the alley, blocking your path. The doors flew open, and four men in tactical gear, their faces covered in dark balaclavas, stepped out.
And in their hands, they held heavy, automatic weapons.
Your heart leaped into your throat. The sweet taste of the strawberry boba tea turned to ash in your mouth as you scrambled behind Minho, your fingers desperately clutching the fabric of his suit jacket.
"Stay down, Ma'am!" Minho barked, drawing a sleek black firearm from his holster in a single, fluid motion.
The alley erupted into sudden, violent chaos. Gunfire shattered the quiet evening air, the deafening bang-bang-bang echoing off the brick walls. You shrieked, ducking behind a heavy metal dumpster, your hands covering your ears. Minho was a machine, he moved with brutal precision, taking down the first two masked men before they could even aim their weapons. But there were too many of them.
As Minho engaged in a brutal hand-to-hand struggle with a third attacker, a fourth man stepped out from the shadows of the van.
He wasn't wearing a mask.
Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat as your hands slowly dropped from your ears. "H-Hoseok?" you gasped, your voice cracking.
Your brother looked at you, his face pale, desperate, and filled with a frantic panic. "Y/N! Come with me, now!" he yelled, lunging forward to grab your arm.
You faltered. Your mind spun in absolute confusion and shock.
Hoseok? Why was your brother here? Why was he attacking Jungkook's men?
That split-second of hesitation was all they needed. Before Minho could shake off his attacker, another masked man crept up behind you, pressing a cloth soaked in a sweet, chemical scent directly over your nose and mouth.
You thrashed, looking desperately toward Minho, but the world quickly dissolved into a dizzying swirl of blackness.
When you finally opened your eyes, the heavy scent of damp concrete and rust filled your nose. You were sitting on a cold, wooden chair, your wrists bound tightly behind your back with coarse rope. The bright, blinding light of a single bulb dangling from the ceiling made your head throb violently.
The heavy iron door of the room creaked open, and Hoseok rushed inside. He looked disheveled, his jacket gone, his hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead. He practically fell to his knees in front of you and untied you, his hands frantically reaching out to cup your shoulders.
"Y/N! Oh my god, Y/N... don't... are you okay?" Hoseok’s voice cracked with raw, protective emotion. He searched your face desperately. "Did that bastard Jeon do something to you? Did he hurt you?"
The memory of the last twenty-four hours flashed through your mind. Jungkook sliding the black card across the desk. Jungkook protecting you from his grandmother's harsh words. Jungkook buying you every food you wanted to try. Jungkook sliding the heavy, beautiful black diamond ring onto your finger.
Tears welled up in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks. "I was..." you whispered, your voice trembling. I was happy. I was finally free.
Hoseok misinterpreted your tears, his expression hardening with fury. "It's over now. You don't have to go back to that monster. You will be saved from him, okay? We're going to get you out of the country."
"Hoseok, no..." You shook your head frantically, the tears flowing faster. You looked down at your bound hands behind your back, then looked up at him, your voice dropping into a desperate, hushed whisper. "I am... married to... him..."
Hoseok froze. The color completely drained from his face as if he had just been struck by lightning. "What? No. No, Y/N, that's impossible—"
"She's what?!"
A harsh, grating voice shattered the quiet. The heavy iron door was kicked open with a deafening bang, and a tall, sharp-featured man strode into the room.
It was Kwan. Your ex-fiancé. The cruel, ruthless heir of the rival syndicate your father had tried to sell you to.
Kwan’s eyes were bloodshot, his face twisted in a mask of pure, humiliated rage. He stormed across the room, completely ignoring Hoseok. Before you could even flinch, his hand flew back and delivered a brutal, stinging slap across your cheek.
SLAP !
The force of the blow whipped your head to the side, your cheek instantly burning with a fierce, red heat. A small whimper escaped your lips.
"Hey! Don't touch her!" Hoseok yelled, immediately standing up to push Kwan back, but Kwan’s bodyguards quickly stepped in, pointing their guns directly at Hoseok's chest to keep him in place.
Kwan stepped closer, bending down until his toxic, furious breath fanned over your face. He gripped your chin roughly, his fingers digging into your bruised skin.
"You were mine!" Kwan snarled, his voice a lethal, venomous hiss. "Your father promised me your hand and your empire! And instead, you let that bastard Jeon touch you? You put his ring on your finger?!”
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.
read on wattpad!
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
The heavy oak doors of Hoseok’s private office felt like the gates to a courtroom.
You didn't wait for permission. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pushed the doors open, your hands trembling against the polished wood. Inside, the room was dimly lit, smelling of expensive leather and old paper. Hoseok was seated at his desk, buried under a mountain of files, looking every bit the fierce mafia leader the world believed him to be.
But the moment he looked up and saw your tear-stained face, the cold facade shattered.
"Y/N?" He stood up immediately, pushing his chair back. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
You didn't answer. You ran straight across the room, stopping just before his desk, your voice cracking with the sheer weight of your desperation. "Tell me it's a lie, Hoseok. Please. Tell me Dad isn't doing this."
Hoseok froze. The sudden stiffness in his shoulders told you everything you needed to know. The rumors were true.
"You know?" Hoseok asked quietly, his voice laced with a heavy guilt. He walked around the desk, reaching out to place his hands on your shoulders. "Y/N, listen to me—"
"How could you do this to me?!" you sobbed, knocking his hands away. "You knew how much I wanted to leave this house! You knew how much I dreamed of just... living! And now you're handing me over to another stranger? Another prison?!"
Hoseok sighed, a deeply pained look crossing his features. He reached out again, more firmly this time, pulling you into a tight embrace. "He is a good man, Y/N. I swear it. His family is powerful, loyal. You will be safe. You will be happy."
"I won't be!" you screamed into his chest, your fists bunching into the fabric of his soft sweater. "I won't be happy! I will be caged again! A different mansion, different guards, but the exact same prison! You guys didn't even ask for my opinion! Am I just a piece of property to this family?!"
Hoseok didn't let go, even as your tears soaked through his clothes. He rested his chin on the top of your head, his own voice thick with emotion. "It’s mafia law, Y/N. Dad is doing this to protect you. If the other families find out the true heir is a woman who has never stepped foot in the underworld, they will hunt you down. This marriage unifies us. It protects the Jung Empire. It protects you."
"I don't care about the empire!" you wailed, the raw agony tearing through your throat.
You couldn't breathe. The walls of his office felt like they were collapsing on you. Realizing that even your brother, the one person who truly loved you was complicit in signing away your life, something inside you snapped.
With a final, desperate push, you broke away from his hold.
"Y/N, wait!" Hoseok called out, reaching for you.
But you didn't look back. You turned and sprinted out of the office, your vision completely blurred by tears. You ran down the long, empty corridors of the second floor, took the stairs two at a time, and slammed your bedroom door shut behind you.
You threw yourself onto your bed, burying your face into the plush pillows to muffle the violent, chest-heaving sobs.
The silence of your golden cage rushed back in, mocking you. The wedding dress was probably already being chosen. The guest list was probably already being written. Your fate was sealed, and nobody in this house cared about the soul dying inside the body they were protecting.
As the hours ticked away into the bleak morning, your thoughts unexpectedly drifted to the dark garden.
You remembered the warm, unyielding weight of the massive hands that had caught you. You remembered the sharp, dangerously handsome jawline and those piercing black eyes that looked like they feared absolutely nothing in this world.
Jeon Jungkook.
You didn't know who he really was. You didn't know what kind of monster lay beneath that expensive suit. But as you clutched your blanket tightly to your chest, staring blankly at the crimson rose sitting in the vase by your bed, a desperate, hopeless wish bloomed in your heart.
Please...you prayed to the empty room, a final tear slipping down your cheek. Whoever you are... please remember your promise. Come and save me.
°
Inside the sleek Jeon mansion, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and dark espresso. High above the city, the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sprawling view of the glowing skyline—a world that belonged entirely to one man.
Jungkook stood by the glass, a crystal tumbler loosely held in his hand. He had stripped off his suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his black dress shirt up to his forearms, exposing the intricate ink tracing up his skin. His mind, usually sharp and laser-focused on expansion, was uncharacteristically preoccupied.
Behind him, lounging carelessly on a leather sofa with his ankles crossed over the coffee table, was Kim Taehyung.
As Jungkook’s most trusted confidant and the head of the Jeon intelligence network, Taehyung was one of the few people alive who could speak to the mafia king without filtering his words.
"You've been staring at that glass for ten minutes, Jungkook," Taehyung remarked, swirling his own drink. An amused smirk played on his lips. "Did the Jungs give you bad coffee, or are you actually stressed about the southern port?"
Jungkook didn't turn around. He took a slow sip of his bourbon, his voice cutting through the quiet room like a low blade. "The ports are fine. It's the Jungs themselves."
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "What about them? Old man Jung is getting frail, and Hoseok is a capable enough successor. They’re right where we want them."
"Hoseok isn't the successor," Jungkook said flatly.
Taehyung paused, his glass freezing halfway to his lips. He let out a low, dry chuckle. "What are you talking about? Hoseok is the only child. The whole underworld knows—"
"The whole underworld is blind," Jungkook interrupted, finally turning around to face his friend. His dark eyes were entirely serious, devoid of the slightest hint of a joke. "There is a firstborn. A daughter. Her name is Jung Y/N."
The room went completely silent. Taehyung stared at Jungkook, waiting for the punchline, but as the seconds ticked by, the smirk completely vanished from his face. He set his glass down on the table with a sharp click.
"A daughter?" Taehyung asked, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Jungkook, that’s impossible. My men have had tabs on the Jung estate for over a decade. We know every guard, every maid, every dollar that enters that property. If there was a hidden child, she would have shown up on a ledger, a medical report, something."
"She’s kept in the north wing. Completely off the grid," Jungkook explained, walking over to his desk and leaning his hip against the edge. "She’s homeschooled, highly trained, and completely scrubbed from public existence. I met her last night. She fell straight out of her window and into my arms."
Taehyung blinked, thoroughly stunned. He let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "You're telling me the second most powerful family in the country successfully hid a firstborn heir for over twenty years? It has to be a lie. A trap. A decoy sent by old man Jung to mess with your head."
"She didn't know who I was, Taehyung," Jungkook countered quietly, his mind flashing back to the way she had cutely tugged on his lapels, entirely fearless. "She didn't ask for a ransom or a political favor. She asked me to marry her so she could escape."
Taehyung's jaw practically hit the floor. "She asked you what ?”
Jungkook took a slow sip of his bourbon, his knuckles white around the glass as his eyes narrowed. "Yes. She wants to escape that house. She told me about some marriage. The Jungs are making an alliance with another family." He suddenly gritted his teeth, the jawline tightening dangerously. "I can't let anyone else have the Jung empire. If another syndicate marries her, they control their future. We need to stop it."
Taehyung stood up, his playful demeanor completely replaced by the sharp focus of an intelligence officer. "How? We can't just storm a mafia wedding without a war."
Jungkook merely smirked, a dark, calculating glint in his eyes as he set his empty glass on the desk. "I will take care of it."
Without another word, Jungkook grabbed his suit jacket from the chair and strode out of the office, ready to set his plan into motion. He walked down the grand, marbled hallway of the Jeon estate, his mind already calculating chess moves, when a sharp voice echoed through the corridor.
"Running off to cause chaos so early in the morning, Jungkook?"
Jungkook stopped in his tracks. Standing near the top of the grand staircase was his grandmother, Madam Jeon.
She was the matriarch of the family, a formidable woman with sharp eyes and hair perfectly pinned back. Their bond was complex; it wasn't filled with warm hugs or sweet words, but it wasn't cruel either.
It was a relationship built on mutual respect, steel instincts, and the shared bloodline of the most ruthless family in the country. She was the only person alive who could speak to him without checking her tone.
Jungkook turned slowly, adjusting his cuffs. "Just handling business, grandmother."
Madam Jeon walked down the steps, her cane clicking softly against the marble. She stopped a few feet away, her sharp eyes scanning his face, reading him effortlessly.
"You have a look about you," she noted, her voice smooth but commanding. "The kind of look your grandfather had right before he seized the western docks. Whatever you are planning, make sure it doesn't bring blood to our doorstep unless you are prepared to clean it up."
Jungkook gave her a small, respectful tilt of his head, a rare shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. "The Jeons don't clean up blood, grandmother. We just make sure it belongs to someone else."
The elderly woman let out a dry, approving hum. "See that you do. Go on then."
Turning around, Jungkook walked out into the crisp morning air, his mind completely made up. The hidden Jung heiress wanted a savior, and he wanted an empire. It was time to cancel a wedding.
°
Two days had passed like a blurred nightmare, and now, you sat completely frozen in front of the ornate vanity mirror.
The reflection staring back at you didn't even look like your own. Your hair was elegantly tucked up, secured with diamond pins, and you were draped in a breathtaking, heavy white satin wedding dress.
It was a gown fit for a queen, yet it felt exactly like a burial shroud. Because of the secrecy surrounding your existence, the wedding was being held right here, hidden within the towering walls of the estate gardens.
A silent tear slipped down your cheek, tracking through your flawless makeup. The maids standing behind you adjusted your veil in heavy silence. They could see your pain, they could hear your quiet gasps for air, but they couldn't help you. No one could.
You closed your eyes, utterly defeated, letting the helpless state wash over you. Your desperate prayer in the dark had gone unanswered. The cold stranger from the garden wasn't coming.
A short while later, you were being guided down the aisle. The garden had been transformed into a lavish, terrifying fortress of mafia royalty. Up ahead, standing at the altar, was the groom, Kwan—a man you didn't know, a man who represented the final lock on your cage.
You took a slow, trembling step forward. But before your heel could even touch the ground for the next, a sudden, deafening explosion shattered the perimeter.
Massive canisters tore through the glass borders, and within seconds, a thick, blinding white smoke completely enveloped the entire garden. Chaos erupted instantly.
"Guards! Surround the bride!"
Shouts echoed through the fog. Then came the terrifying, rhythmic rhythm of gunfire.
People screamed, chairs overturned, and absolute panic gripped the crowd. Through the thick haze, you heard Hoseok’s frantic voice shouting over the noise, "Y/N! Y/N, where are you?!"
You tried to move, to call out to him, but the smoke was too thick, suffocating and blinding. You stumbled backward, completely disoriented, bracing yourself to be grabbed by a rival or an enemy.
Suddenly, a massive, unyielding hand clamped firmly around your wrist, pulling you flush against a broad chest.
Your eyes flew open, watering from the smoke, and met his.
Pitch-black, piercing, and entirely devoid of fear.
Jungkook.
He was dressed in a sharp black suit, looking like the god of death himself amidst the war zone he had just created. Before a single syllable could escape your lips, before your mind could even process the sheer shock of his presence, you felt a sharp, sudden prick against the side of your neck.
"Sleep, sweetheart," his deep baritone whispered right against your ear. "I told you I'd take care of it."
The world instantly began to spin. Your knees went entirely weak, your vision fading into black. As your consciousness slipped away, the last thing you felt was those same massive, strong arms scooping you securely off your feet, lifting you effortlessly into the air as he carried you away from the ruins of your wedding.
°
Jungkook looked down at your unconscious body resting against the leather seat of the speeding SUV. Outside, his men were still at the Jung estate, handling the fallout of the shattered wedding, but he had already escaped with you completely unnoticed.
Within an hour, he brought you into the highly secured walls of his own mansion. He carried you upstairs effortlessly, laying you down onto the expansive mattress of a guest suite.
"Is she okay?" Taehyung asked, stepping into the room with his arms crossed, his eyes darting to your pale face.
"She is," Jungkook replied, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He didn't look flustered at all by the chaos he had just caused. "I only gave her a small dose. Since she’s never had anything like that in her system before, she passed out easily."
"What's next?" Taehyung asked, a serious edge to his voice.
"Marriage."
Taehyung stared at him, his jaw tightening. "Don't tell me—"
"Yes, I am going to marry her," Jungkook stated calmly, his voice flat and absolute. "She will be my wife. I will protect her, and in return, I will have her empire."
"What the hell are you even talking about?"
A sharp, commanding voice cut through the room. Both men turned to see Madam Jeon standing in the doorway, her glare cutting right through her grandson. Her hand gripped her cane tightly. "Marriage? You storm a wedding, kidnap a girl, and now you expect to just marry her?"
Jungkook didn't flinch under his grandmother's intense gaze. Instead, he stepped away from the bed, his expression hardening into the cold, strategic calculation of a true underworld king.
"The Jungs have a strict traditional rule," Jungkook explained, looking between Taehyung and Madam Jeon. "Only the firstborn heir inherits the throne and the wealth, regardless of gender. Hoseok is a decoy. This girl lying here is the true, legal owner of the entire Jung Empire."
Madam Jeon’s eyes narrowed slightly as she processed the information.
"If the Jungs completed that marriage alliance today," Jungkook continued, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly tone, "the other family would have gained complete control over the Jung assets. Together, they would have had the power to challenge Jeon supremacy. I don't want new competition. I want to eliminate it before it even begins. Having the Jung empire securely in my grip is the only way to guarantee our dominance.”
Madam Jeon stepped closer to the bed, her sharp, discerning eyes glaring down at your sleeping body. She took in the intricate lace of the wedding dress and your delicate, pale features.
"Is she even worthy to be your wife?" the matriarch questioned, her tone dripping with skepticism. "A Jeon daughter-in-law must be made of steel, Jungkook. This girl looks like a porcelain doll."
Jungkook didn't blink. He looked at you, his dark eyes fixed on your peaceful, sleeping face. "I don't care about her worth as a person. She will be my wife. That's it. Her signature on a marriage certificate is all the value I need."
Madam Jeon tapped her cane against the marble floor, a thoughtful frown marring her aged face. "But why did the Jungs even hide her in the first place? If she holds the ultimate key to their bloodline, she is a very powerful asset. Why keep her a ghost?"
"That's exactly why," Jungkook replied, a dark, cynical smirk playing on his lips. He walked over to the window, looking out over his own heavily guarded territory. "Every mafia family in the country would want to marry her just to claim the Jung empire and rise in power. They knew she’d have a target on her back from the day she was born. By hiding her, they protected her."
He turned back around, his gaze landing heavily on your quiet, breathing form.
"Her father built a fortress to keep the world out," Jungkook murmured, his voice dropping into a low, chilling baritone. "But that daughter walked right out of her fortress and straight into the devil's cage.”
°
Back at the Jung estate, the atmosphere was nothing short of apocalyptic.
The once-pristine gardens were a ruined battlefield of shattered glass, upturned tables, and the bitter scent of spent gunpowder. Armed guards swarmed the perimeter, their shouts echoing frantically over the comms as they searched every inch of the property.
Inside the main study, the air was suffocating.
Mr. Jung stood behind his desk, his face contorted in a terrifying mix of fury and pure panic. He threw a crystal decanter against the wall, sending glass and amber liquid flying. "Find her!" he roared, his voice shaking the heavy oak doors. "If a single scratch is found on my daughter, I will burn this city to the ground!"
Beside him, Hoseok was completely pale, his hands clenched into tight fists. He wasn't thinking about the empire; he was thinking about his little sister, the girl who had just broken down in his arms hours ago, terrified of a cage. "Father, the perimeter was locked down within seconds. Whoever took her had high-grade military smoke and precise intel. This wasn't a random hit. They knew exactly who to grab."
Before Mr. Jung could release another furious tirade, the heavy double doors of the study were calmly pushed open.
The guards outside didn't stop the intruder. They couldn't.
Jeon Jungkook walked into the room.
He didn't wear a mask, and he didn't look like a man who had just orchestrated a high-profile kidnapping. He looked entirely immaculate, unbothered, and terrifyingly calm. Behind him, two of his own soldiers stood like shadows, their hands resting heavily on their weapons.
The room froze. The tension skyrocketed until the air felt like glass ready to shatter.
"Jeon," Mr. Jung hissed, his hand instinctively moving toward the drawer where his firearm rested. "What is the meaning of this? My estate is under lockdown. No one enters."
"Your lockdown doesn't apply to me, Mr. Jung," Jungkook said, his smooth, gravelly baritone cutting through the panic in the room. He walked forward with slow, predatory steps, completely ignoring the guards who were sweating through their suits. He stopped right in front of the mahogany desk, leaning forward slightly. "And I came to answer your question. You’re looking for your daughter."
Hoseok took a sharp step forward, his eyes widening. "You... you took Y/N?"
"Y/N," Jungkook repeated the name slowly, testing it on his tongue with a dark, mocking tilt of his lips. "A beautiful name for a secret you’ve kept buried for over twenty years. The true, firstborn heir of the Jung Empire."
Mr. Jung’s face drained of color. The formidable patriarch looked like he had just been struck by lightning. His hand froze over the desk. "How... how do you know about her?"
"It doesn't matter how I know," Jungkook dismissed flatly, his dark eyes turning incredibly cold, pinning the older man to his seat. "What matters is that she is currently sitting in my estate. Safe. Unharmed."
"Bring her back," Mr. Jung demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low growl. "Jeon, I respect your family's supremacy, but if you think you can steal my daughter and walk away, you are sorely mistaken. The Jungs will go to war."
Jungkook let out a low, dry chuckle that sent a shiver down Hoseok's spine. It was a sound devoid of any real humor—only absolute dominance.
"You won't go to war, Mr. Jung," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a chilling whisper that filled every corner of the room. "Because if you fire a single bullet at the Jeons, the entire underworld finds out that you hid the legal heir to your throne. They will find out you lied to every family in the syndicate. Your loyalists will split, your enemies will hunt you down, and I will personally dismantle what's left of your empire."
He looked between the father and the son, his expression hardening into stone.
"Mafia law is absolute," Jungkook stated, straight-backed and unyielding. "The firstborn inherits everything. And right now, that firstborn belongs to me. You cannot go against me, and you know it.”
Mr. Jung’s hands shook against the surface of his desk, his knuckles turning stark white. He looked at Jungkook, searching for any sign of a bluff, any crack in the younger man's armor. But there was none. Jeon Jungkook stood there like an immovable mountain, holding all the cards.
"What do you want, Jeon?" Hoseok asked, his voice tight, stepping in front of his father. He was desperately trying to keep his composure, but the terror for your safety was bleeding through his eyes. "Name your price. Money, territory, the southern ports—take whatever you want. Just give us back my sister."
Jungkook’s gaze shifted to Hoseok, his dark eyes sizing him up with an indifferent coolness.
"I don't want your money, Hoseok. And I already own the southern ports," Jungkook replied smoothly, adjusting the silver cufflink on his left wrist. "I want stability. I wanted to prevent an unauthorized alliance that would threaten the balance of power. And I've done exactly that."
"By kidnapping her?!" Mr. Jung slammed his fist on the desk, his voice cracking with suppressed rage. "She has nothing to do with the underworld! She is innocent!"
"She is the firstborn Jung," Jungkook countered, his voice cutting through the older man's outburst like a razor. "In our world, no one is innocent, and no one is an bystander. You made her a target the day you signed her birth certificate."
Jungkook took a step back, his soldiers flanking him instantly. The air in the room remained dense, suffocatingly heavy, as the absolute authority of the Jeon family crushed any hope of resistance the Jungs had left.
"Under mafia law, a marriage finalized under the protection of the supreme family is legally binding across all syndicates," Jungkook stated flatly, his tone final. "By tomorrow morning, the entire underworld will receive the official announcement. Jung Y/N is the new matriarch of the Jeon family."
Hoseok felt the ground give way beneath his feet. "You're going to force her to marry you?"
"I am securing what is mine," Jungkook corrected coldly. He turned on his heel, his long black coat billowing slightly behind him as he walked toward the exit. He paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder one last time. "Don't bother sending men to my perimeter, Mr. Jung. If I see a single Jung soldier near my gates, I’ll consider it an act of aggression. And you already know how I handle threats."
With that final, chilling warning, Jungkook walked out of the study.
The heavy oak doors shut with a definitive thud, leaving the Jung patriarch and his son standing in the crushing silence of their ruined fortress. They were completely powerless. The second most powerful family in the country had just been utterly brought to their knees, and there was absolutely nothing they could do to stop the devil from claiming his bride.
°
You groaned softly, your eyelids fluttering open as you adjusted to the bright, stark light illuminating the room. Your head pounded with a heavy, rhythmic ache, the lingering effects of the sedative making everything feel dizzy and disconnected.
Holding your throbbing temple, you slowly sat up. The heavy diamond necklace around your throat shifted, its cold weight reminding you exactly what day it was.
"Where..." Your voice was raw, barely a whisper.
Suddenly, the fragmented memories of the wedding came rushing back like a tidal wave. The white smoke. The terrifying roar of gunshots. The chaotic screams. And then... a pair of piercing, pitch-black orbs staring directly into your eyes.
Panic hit you like a physical blow. You gasped, throwing the covers off and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Your bare feet met a cold, polished floor. Looking around, you realized you were in an unfamiliar, massive master bedroom. It was dark, sleek, and dripping with modern luxury. Everything about the space screamed absolute power.
"Ma'am, you are awake."
A voice spoke from behind you. You jumped, gasping as you whipped around, your heart hammering against your ribs. An older maid stood there, bowing politely. She stepped forward and gently placed a fresh, comfortable pair of clothes on a nearby table.
"Mr. Jeon has asked you to freshen up and wear these," she said softly.
Mr. Jeon.
The name echoed in your mind. Jungkook. He had actually done it. He had kept his promise and saved you from that nightmare of a wedding.
Anxious to see him, you quickly changed into the soft, high-end clothes left for you, shedding the heavy satin wedding dress like a discarded skin. You followed the quiet maid down endless, minimalist corridors that felt entirely different from the antique grandeur of the Jung estate.
Finally, she opened the double doors to a sprawling penthouse office.
Jungkook was seated behind a massive dark desk. The moment you walked in, his piercing gaze locked onto you. His eyes traveled up and down your frame, taking in how you looked in his clothes, before he slowly raised a single, questioning eyebrow.
"Thank you for saving me," you rushed out, the words bursting from your chest. You took a step closer to his desk, your hands tightly clasped together. "I am... I am so incredibly thankful. You actually came."
Jungkook leaned back in his leather seat, swirling a dark liquid in his glass with an unbothered, dangerous elegance. "Where do you want to go now that you are free?" he asked, his deep baritone sending a subtle shiver down your spine. "Huh? Where is a hidden princess supposed to run?"
Your throat went tight. You looked down at your hands, reality suddenly crashing down on you. "I don't... know," you confessed, your voice dropping into a quiet whisper. "I don't even know what the outside world really looks like. I was locked away since birth. I don't have anywhere to go."
A slow, dark smirk tugged at the corner of Jungkook's lips. He set his glass down with a soft click and stood up. His towering, broad-shouldered frame moved with predatory grace as he walked around the desk, stopping right in front of you.
The air grew heavy, suffocatingly close. Before you could take a breath, his massive, warm hand reached out, his long fingers wrapping firmly around your jaw, forcing you to tilt your head up to look at him. His grip wasn't painful, but it was unyielding—an absolute display of possession.
"Then let's make a deal, Jung Y/N," Jungkook murmured, his dark eyes burning into yours as he leaned down just a fraction. "Are you ready to become a Jeon? Because let me tell you, becoming a Jeon is a hell of a lot harder than being a locked princess of the Jungs."
You swallowed hard, your heart racing against your ribs from his intense proximity.
"You will be married to me," he stated, his voice a low, gravelly promise against your skin. "You will be protected under my name, and you will finally see the world. But in return... I want your signature. I want your empire. I want all of your power as the true Jung heir.”
