Fernanda ⋆.˚☾⋆

Synopsis: "Min Yoongi, the unrelenting boss of the Jeongyeon-pa mafia, rules the South Korean underworld with an iron fist. His arms and slot machine smuggling network extends to the United States, discreetly operated through the prestigious import-export company run by Lauren Lexington, a frank CEO with a soft heart. Though they've been business partners for years due to ties between their families, their paths have never crossed.

When Yoongi discovers a significant financial discrepancy in his operations, suspicion spreads among his associates, and all the evidence points to Lauren's company. Determined to resolve the issue, Yoongi arranges a meeting with Lauren, which turns out to be anything but cordial. However, amid the tense confrontation, an unexpected attraction sparks between them.

Lauren, swearing she is not involved in the embezzlement, convinces Yoongi of her innocence and offers to help him uncover the real traitor. As they delve deeper into the investigation, danger surrounds them on all sides, but the time they spend together makes forbidden feelings bloom between them.

In a world where trust is rare, and love can be a fatal weakness, Yoongi and Lauren must fight not only against their enemies but also against the growing passion that threatens to destroy everything they've built. Amid an avalanche of betrayals and twists, they will discover if love can truly survive the darkness around them."

Min Yoongi X OC | Mafia | +18 | Cover by: @luvtaejk |© 2024 sugaphilic/nandangel

Note: This story is also posted on Spirit in Portuguese.

Chapters:

Important Points and Warnings

Chapter 1 - Who is Min Yoongi?

Chapter 2 - Who is Lauren Lexington?

Chapter 3 - Beneath Dirty Cloth, There's Always More Filth.

Chapter 4 - Warnings From an Enemy

Chapter 5 — Trust is an ungrateful woman.

Chapter 6 — On the Brink of Chaos

3869 words| mainlist

Days after the chaos in the barn, Lauren's life takes a dark and introspective turn. The events of that night linger in her mind, gnawing at her peace and fueling a quiet rage. For all she saw and heard, she has withdrawn into an impenetrable cocoon, driven by distrust and the need to protect herself.

She moves into an old family estate located in an upscale neighborhood in New York. Surrounded by mansions and constant surveillance, the heightened security offers her a false sense of control. Yet the weight of betrayals still haunts her. Snow, her kitten, is finally discharged from the hospital, though she requires intensive physical therapy sessions.

Since that fateful night, Lauren has heard nothing directly about the Yakuza or Jeongyeon-pa. The only information comes from news reports detailing the discovery of bodies in alleys and abandoned warehouses. She knows exactly what is happening: a brutal war for territory. Each announced death is a veiled message, and Lauren understands that the conflict is becoming even more serious and deadly.

But what truly consumes her mind are the actions of John and Mark. Their betrayal is an open wound, especially John's—a man she had considered a second father since childhood after losing her own. Back then, she was told her father had died of a heart attack caused by smoking, but now Lauren doubts everything. The pieces start to fall into place, and she realizes she may have been deceived by everyone around her.

As she sinks into dark thoughts, Lauren begins to neglect her duties as CEO. Without David or anyone else to trust, the company moves forward without her leadership. She doesn’t care. Every moment of inaction is filled with an obsession to find a way to exact revenge. In her mind, a thousand scenarios play out, all involving ways to make John and Mark pay dearly for their betrayals.

— I need to act… — she murmurs to herself, lying in bed and staring at the dark ceiling.

Getting up, she opens the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room and sting her eyes accustomed to the shadows. The blue sky over New York seems to mock her pain. Inspired by renewed courage, Lauren decides to visit her father’s room—a space left untouched since his death.

As she steps through the door, the familiar scent of aged wood envelops her, and the weight of longing hits her like a blade. Her knees buckle, and she collapses into tears, sobbing like a child.

— Please, Dad… give me strength. Help me, wherever you are.

After long minutes, Lauren regains control. Wiping her face, she turns to her father’s closet, determined to uncover the secrets he may have left behind. She searches through drawers, walls, and every corner of the small space. Designer clothes and valuable jewelry fall to the floor as she looks for something more precious: answers.

When she is about to give up, something unusual catches her attention. Near the chandelier, the ceiling seems slightly uneven. Lauren rushes to the service area, grabs a ladder, and positions it in the closet. Climbing cautiously, she runs her hands over the ceiling until she feels the texture of a false panel. With a firm push, she removes it, revealing a hidden compartment filled with folders, bundles of cash, and jewelry.

— There you are… — she murmurs, ignoring the sparkle of the riches.

Descending with the folders, she spreads them out on the counter. Each contains detailed information about men and women who worked for her father. As she examines the names, a terrible connection emerges: all these people were introduced by John. He was the one who built the alliances that supported her father’s empire. He was the one who opened the doors to those who might have orchestrated his downfall.

— I’ll find out the truth. Every one of them will pay for what they did…— Lauren promises, her eyes fixed on the documents.

As she organizes the folders, two names stand out: Vincent Malone and Vincenzo Moretti. Malone, the owner of a jewelry store downtown, is known for his greed and habit of working alone late at night, counting money like a miser. Moretti, the proprietor of a trendy restaurant, is protected by a legion of bodyguards and loyal patrons.

While considering her next steps, her phone vibrates on the side table. An email notification catches her attention. It’s a formal invitation to a fundraising event for children with cancer, organized by an apparently reputable foundation. However, Lauren is no fool. She knows the circles that frequent such galas. These events are often mere fronts for money laundering schemes and illegal deals.

Initially, Lauren ignores the invitation, ready to discard it. She has no patience for false displays of charity and social games. But as she scrolls to the end of the message, something makes her heart race: Vincenzo Moretti will be among the attendees, listed as one of the main sponsors.

— Moretti… — Lauren murmurs, a cold smile forming on her lips.

She leans forward, her fingers drumming on the table. Moretti’s presence at the event is no coincidence. Not only is he involved in her father’s affairs, but he may also hold vital information about the network of allies and enemies surrounding him.

Lauren stares at her reflection in the closet mirror. Her eyes, still red from tears, now shine with something new: determination and danger. She knows attending the event will be risky. There will be guards, Moretti’s allies, and probably other names from the list. But she also knows this is her chance to infiltrate the heart of the criminal underworld and start piecing together the puzzle surrounding her father’s death.

She grips the invitation tightly.

— If he thinks he can keep living peacefully while conspiring in the shadows, he’s mistaken.

Lauren is no longer just the CEO of a successful company. She is a woman seeking vengeance, ready to walk through the false glitter of a charity gala to unearth dark secrets. With a calculated smile, she resolves to get close to Moretti… and find out what he knows—at any cost.

[...]

Lauren adjusts the form-fitting dress that clings to her body, a sleek black satin piece that elegantly highlights her silhouette while concealing an arsenal of precautions beneath its flawless appearance. In her carefully styled low bun, she hides a sharp metallic hairpin, capable of transforming into a weapon in skilled hands. In her garter, a small knife, once her father's, serves as both a memento and a lethal tool should the situation demand it.

Inside her compact, elegant black leather clutch, she carries something even more strategic: a small syringe filled with a paralyzing substance, enough to immobilize someone for a few minutes without causing permanent harm. Lauren had learned to prepare such compounds directly from her father, a man who always insisted on teaching her how to defend herself — and attack, if necessary. "Always keep an ace up your sleeve, little one," he used to say. And she listened.

Entering a charity event armed in a conventional way would be risky, but Lauren isn’t willing to take chances in a place filled with treacherous smiles and hidden intentions. Every detail of her preparation was meticulously planned, from the hairpin and knife to the paralyzing compound.

She adjusts the strap of her high-heeled shoe while gazing at herself in the mirror, taking in her final image. Elegance masking danger. That is Lauren Lexington’s essence tonight.

The family driver, Mr. Harris, insists on staying by Lauren’s side even after she had dismissed most of the household staff. She hadn’t let him go, not out of arrogance, but because she knew Harris was trustworthy — someone who had always served the family loyally and was uninvolved in the dark secrets now surrounding her.

When Harris opens the car door for her, his deep and respectful voice sounds:

 — You look stunning tonight, Miss Lauren.

She thanks him with a faint smile, but her eyes reveal no emotion. Behind that elegant demeanor lies something darker: a determination to hunt her enemies to the very end.

As the car stops in front of the event venue, Lauren is met by a swarm of photographers and journalists. The flashes light up her face like a spark, but she maintains her composure. The questions come like bullets fired:

 — Miss Lexington, is your company linked to the mafia?

 — What do you have to say about the disappearances of John and Mark?

 — Are you planning to address the recent accusations?

Lauren smiles with the coolness of someone accustomed to walking on thin ice. She doesn’t directly answer any of the questions, merely waving gracefully and moving forward, dodging the onslaught like a professional. Her impeccable posture and controlled smile are a perfect mask, one that betrays none of the turmoil and plans brewing within her.

Upon entering the main hall, Lauren is immediately surrounded by a crowd of familiar — and despised — faces. Businessmen, politicians, superficial celebrities... all flashing fake smiles as they shake her hand and exchange empty pleasantries.

 — It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lexington. You’ve been so... reclusive lately.

 — Lauren, dear, how’s your company? I hope the crisis hasn’t affected you too much.

Lauren responds with vague words and a polished smile, but inwardly she feels disgusted by every one of them. They don’t care about the real reasons behind John or Mark’s disappearances. All they care about is maintaining appearances.

Her eyes scan the room cautiously, analyzing every detail, every expression, every laugh. She mentally notes the faces of everyone who approaches her, marking them on her invisible blacklist. They may be smiling now, but Lauren knows some of them are direct or indirect accomplices of the network that led to her family’s downfall.

As she moves through the event, Lauren maintains the demeanor of a sophisticated CEO, but her thoughts are those of a predator lying in wait.

Lauren makes her way to the bar, where a waiter serves her a glass of champagne. She thanks him with a slight nod but doesn’t drink. Her eyes are fixed on a point across the room: Vincenzo Moretti has just entered, surrounded by a group of bodyguards and allies.

She wastes no time. She keeps her emotions in check and studies his movements. Tonight, Lauren Lexington isn’t here just to make an appearance. She’s here to hunt.

Vincenzo Moretti is the epitome of Italian elegance, even at fifty. His impeccably groomed gray hair, slightly tanned skin, and intense brown eyes carry the seductive charm of a man accustomed to getting what he wants. Always dressed in tailored suits, tonight he’s chosen a navy-blue ensemble with a silk pocket square, a perfect contrast to the soft lighting of the hall. Lauren knows Vincenzo’s habits well: he loves to flirt with young, wealthy women — a sophisticated predator masked by courteous smiles.

Seated at a table with six other men, all equally well-dressed and exuding power, Vincenzo maintains his confident posture. However, his eyes lock onto Lauren as soon as he notices her presence. She’s seated at the bar, wearing a black dress that accentuates her curves, pretending to sip champagne while twirling the stem of the crystal glass between her fingers. When their eyes meet, she rewards him with a dazzling smile and raises her glass in a silent toast. He, evidently intrigued, responds with a subtle nod.

It takes exactly five minutes for Vincenzo to exchange a few words with the men at his table and rise. He adjusts his jacket, smooths the cuffs of his shirt with theatrical ease, and walks toward Lauren, each step a display of confidence.  — Bambina! — he greets her with his characteristic melodic Italian tone, leaning in to kiss her cheeks, leaving a trail of expensive cologne. — How are you, cara mia?

Lauren tilts her head slightly, feigning calculated shyness, and replies with a rehearsed smile:

— Aside from the ridiculous rumors going around, I’m fine.

Vincenzo lets out a booming laugh, the sound echoing as if he were trying to assert dominance over the room. He sits beside her, his movements precise and purposeful.

— And you, Vincenzo? How are you?

— Wonderfully well. — He flashes a wide, almost exaggerated smile. 

Of course, Lauren thinks, he’s doing well. Men like Vincenzo always are.

— Are you alone? — He casts a curious glance her way, masked as concern. — Where’s Mark?

Lauren lowers her gaze, as if hesitant to respond, then feigns a heavy sigh.

— We broke up. — Her expression is a perfect blend of sadness and resignation, tailored to fit the narrative she’s building.

— Mi dispiace, bambina. — Vincenzo murmurs, sliding his fingers down her arm with an unsettling familiarity. — You must be feeling so lonely, right, cara mia?

— Very. — Lauren leans in slightly, offering him a generous view of her neckline as her finger traces the rim of her glass. She needs to maintain the façade of vulnerability, even though Vincenzo’s mere presence fills her with disgust.

She begins feigning the first signs of intoxication, a dangerous but necessary game. Her laughter grows looser, her touches on Vincenzo more frequent. He, enchanted by her attention, fails to notice the calculated coldness in her eyes.

As the flirtation unfolds, Lauren’s mind remains sharp. Every word and gesture serves a purpose. She knows Vincenzo is a vain man, susceptible to flattery. And she is determined to exploit him, to extract any useful information he might reveal.

Vincenzo, captivated by Lauren’s false vulnerability, has no idea he’s dealing with a woman willing to risk everything for vengeance.

— Would you like to come to my apartment, bambina? I could be the company you so desperately need. — Vincenzo strokes her cheek with a touch meant to be gentle but feels invasive, sending a shiver of revulsion through her. Lauren smiles, putting on her best innocent expression, and nods with a fake sparkle in her eyes.

He takes her hand, leading her out of the event toward his apartment. Located in the heart of Manhattan, the building exudes luxury and power. Ever the strategist, Vincenzo had chosen a unit on the eleventh floor. Not a penthouse—those were too easy a target for snipers. While it didn’t entirely eliminate the risk, a mid-level floor at least complicated an assassin’s job.

They step into the elevator, accompanied by Vincenzo’s two bodyguards. During the ride, Lauren decides to plant the first seed.

— Why do they follow you everywhere? — She asks in a mildly disinterested tone, feigning ignorance.  Vincenzo smiles, pleased at the chance to explain.

— They ensure my safety, bambina. The world is full of traitors, and I am no fool.

When they arrive at the floor, the guards accompany them into the apartment. The décor screams opulence—marble, Italian furniture, and expensive artwork. But Lauren notices the heavy curtains shielding the large windows. Vincenzo quickly draws them shut, likely aware that one of his men is stationed in the neighboring buildings.

As they enter the bedroom, Lauren sees the two guards standing by the door. This complicates her plan, but nothing a little charm can’t solve.

— Do they really have to stand there? — Lauren pouts, her voice tinged with false innocence.

Vincenzo raises an eyebrow.

— Is there a problem, cara mia?

Lauren steps closer, leaning in to whisper in his ear with the most seductive voice she can muster:

— I don’t want them hearing me moan for you... it makes me shy.

— Puta madre! — Vincenzo curses, completely disarmed by the comment. She knew he wouldn’t resist an inflated ego. — You two, out!

— But sir... — one of the guards begins to protest.

— I said out!

The men leave without further argument, leaving Lauren victorious as she follows Vincenzo into the room. Distracted, he shuts the door and moves behind Lauren, beginning to kiss her neck, his hands sliding slowly down her waist. Lauren feels a wave of revulsion but keeps her role intact.

— Why don’t you lie down on the bed and close your eyes? — He suggests with a lascivious smile.

Lauren smiles back, letting him think he’s in control. Vincenzo throws himself onto the bed, closing his eyes as she reaches into her clutch and retrieves a carefully prepared syringe. Straddling his lap, Lauren whispers obscene words into his ear, feeling his body relax under the false sense of dominance.

And then, with surgical precision, she plunges the needle into his thigh.

— What is this? — Vincenzo shouts, shoving her off with force. Lauren tumbles to the side but not before grabbing the gun he kept holstered. — What the fuck did you do, you bitch? — He yells again, noticing the needle sticking out of his leg.

Lauren rises slowly, holding the gun firmly as Vincenzo tries to lunge at her.

— If I were you, I wouldn’t move much. That’ll only speed up the liquid’s effect.

— Liquid? What the fuck are you talking about? Poison?

— No, caro mio. — Lauren mocks, smiling coldly. — It's just something to keep you still.

— What do you want?

She steps closer slowly, her eyes glowing with a mix of hatred and determination.

— Answers. About John and Mark. Where are they?

Vincenzo laughs, despite the weakness starting to take over his body.

— Do you really think I’m going to tell you anything, you ungrateful bitch?

Lauren sighs, pulling the knife from her garter belt. She slides the blade across his face, pressing lightly until it cuts the skin.

— I don’t have time for games, Vincenzo. Now, speak.

— Go to hell! — He spits, but the blood running down his cheek and the pain make him recoil.

Lauren tilts the knife, threatening to go deeper.

— Where are they?

Vincenzo groans in pain and finally gives in.

— John... John is with the Black Shadow. He’s... damn, he’s in a warehouse at the port. It’s where they’ve been holding meetings.

Lauren gives a satisfied smile, wiping the blade on the sheet.

— And Mark?

Vincenzo hesitates, but seeing the knife approaching again, he screams:

— I don’t know! He was with your father the last time I saw him, but then... then he disappeared!

Before Lauren can step away from Vincenzo, the door to the room is abruptly shoved open, making her react instinctively. Without hesitation, she throws the knife toward the entrance, but the movement is slightly off. The blade embeds in the wood next to Min Yoongi’s head, who appears in the doorway with a gun in hand and a shocked expression as he takes in the scene before him.

Yoongi quickly scans the room: Vincenzo, lying in bed, his face cut and a needle stuck to his thigh, clearly weakened; Lauren, panting, her once-immaculate black dress now wrinkled, holding a gun while the fire in her eyes betrays her contained fury.

— What the hell is going on here? — Yoongi finally breaks the silence, his deep voice echoing through the room.

Lauren raises an eyebrow, still holding the gun firmly in her hand.

— I should ask you the same.

Yoongi smiles, a smile devoid of humor, but his eyes shine with a mixture of fascination and disbelief. Lauren, with her sexy and dangerous aura, exudes confidence in a scene that borders on the improbable. Throwing a knife without even looking at the target and still holding a gun with such steadiness? He doesn’t know if she’s trying to intimidate him or flirt, but whatever the case, he’s absolutely captivated.

— I don’t have time for this shit. — His voice is grave. — What the hell are you doing here?

Before Lauren can respond, Vincenzo tries to sit up in bed, his face contorted with pain and rage.

— Meno male! Help me! This crazy bitch must be some whore from Jeongyeon-pa. Kill her!

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and smirks a crooked smile, as sharp as a blade. Vincenzo, of course, has no idea that he and his men are undercover as security. The fool never bothered to get to know his own team, thinking himself too superior to pay attention to those details. That arrogance made everything easier.

— What did he tell you? — Yoongi asks, closing the door behind him with a calculated movement.

Lauren doesn’t hesitate.

— John and Mark are with a guy called Black Shadow. They use a warehouse at the port for meetings.

Yoongi suppresses a smile of satisfaction, fighting the urge to kiss her right there. There’s something inexplicably sexy about seeing Lauren so fierce, a true lioness roaring amid chaos.

— Which port? — He demands, turning his attention to Vincenzo, who remains silent. Losing patience, Yoongi presses the cut on the man’s face, pulling a roar of pain from him.

— Speak, damn it!

A sharp sound echoes in his earpiece, Hoseok’s voice interrupting the moment.

— Hyung, get out of there! The building is surrounded! You’ll have to use freefall!

Lauren shoots Yoongi a look, but before he can react, she shoots without warning. The bullet hits Vincenzo’s thigh, causing blood to spurt in an alarming flow. Yoongi watches the scene with a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

— Oh, God! I just wanted... — Lauren stammers, clearly surprised by the result.

Innocence combined with ferocity. Yoongi thinks, holding back a smile as the chaos unfolds.

— You fucking bitch! — Vincenzo snarls, his voice weakened.

Yoongi leans over him, his gaze lethal.

— Speak now, or she’ll shoot you in the head!

Vincenzo hesitates, but pain and fear overcome him.

— The port... it’s Red Hook, in Brooklyn.

— Molto bene. — Yoongi comments, his tone heavy with sarcasm as he uses Italian, and Lauren just smiles softly.

He moves quickly to the window, attaching a hook to the sill. Looking down, he confirms the dark alley that separates them from a possible escape. He pulls the rope to ensure it’s secure, but there’s no time to plan a safe descent with Lauren.

— Yoongi, you son of a bitch, get out of there! — Namjoon yells in the earpiece, his voice thick with tension.

Yoongi shouts to Lauren:

— Let’s go!

Lauren’s eyes widen as she realizes the plan.

— Are you crazy? We’re gonna die!

He stares at her with a firm look.

— We’re gonna die anyway, yeobo.

Without warning, Yoongi pulls her by the waist, adjusting her position so her legs wrap around his waist. The sound of footsteps approaches the door, along with screams and frantic banging. Vincenzo is motionless on the bed, the blood already leading him to an inevitable end.  With no other choice, Yoongi leaps with Lauren. The wind cuts their faces as they descend quickly, suspended by the rope. Lauren screams, her eyes tightly shut, until they both land on the alley floor.

— Come on! — Yoongi orders, pulling her by her trembling hands toward the van that’s already waiting with the engine running.

As they enter the vehicle, Lauren feels the inquisitive gazes of all the occupants. Hoseok is at the wheel, clearly nervous, while Namjoon mutters something under his breath. But it’s Mia who breaks the silence, with a warm smile and a tight hug.

— I thought I wouldn't see you again. — Mia's voice is sweet, but the moment is heavy with tension.

5122 words| mainlist

Cadance Turner

It’s been almost three weeks since I last saw or heard anything about him, and maybe I’ve gone a little crazy during this time. After that dreadful night and the morning full of shocking revelations, I returned home with a very beautiful and caring woman named Fayette —a rather peculiar name, though not for a wolf. Fayette helped me around the house because of my twisted foot and told me several stories, but she was so considerate that she did everything to avoid mentioning Namjoon. I also learned that she’s carrying a baby — or a pup, as she oddly refers to it.

When I could walk on my own again, Fayette left but gave me her phone number and Namjoon’s in case I needed help or anything else.

It felt strange when she left; I felt so alone and, most of the time, did nothing. I even stopped working on my book because I couldn’t focus, and every time I started typing, both good and bad memories resurfaced.

Honestly, I was losing my mind. Seriously, as soon as night fell, my body started tingling, and I would get oddly aroused. Even after trying to relieve myself, it wasn’t enough — I was missing something.

I hated that feeling because it reminded me of him and made me realize how much I needed him. As bizarre as the whole situation was, I couldn’t deny that I wanted him. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself because he’s a wolf, and that’s too much for me.

Yes, it’s insane to know that everything I used to write about actually exists. It’s even more terrifying to get involved with someone like that, yet fascinating at the same time.

That night was horrible, but every time I remember how elegantly intimidating Namjoon transformed from a wolf into a human, it drives me crazy with questions and makes me want to use him as the perfect model for my book. However, it also stirs feelings I’m repressing and pretending aren’t there — knowing that, with the slightest slip, they could explode inside me, sending me running into his arms.

As I step out of the shower, I hear the doorbell ring, making my body freeze for a moment. But I relax when I see Fayette accompanied by another woman through the peephole. As I open the door, the blonde greets me with an adorable smile, while the other woman looks at me curiously.

— Hi — Fayette says as she hugs me. — I know it’s been a while since I came here, but my hormones have been crazy, and I didn’t want to hurt you accidentally.

— Hurt me? How? — I ask, stepping out of the hug.

— Her mood swings have been making her furious at times. — The woman standing next to Fayette speaks, smiling. She’s as beautiful as Fay, with long, wavy black hair, skin similar to Namjoon’s, and matching eyes. — By the way, I’m Kim Yong-Ji, Namjoon’s cousin.

My expression immediately turns serious, and Fayette notices:

— Sweetheart, we need to have a very serious talk with you.

— If you came here to clean up his mess, you can leave!

— Actually, it’s about you. — Yong-Ji says. — Let’s go inside; this isn’t the best place to talk about it.

— Who is he? — I ask, noticing a man standing by a pickup truck, arms crossed, watching us. His pale skin is hard to forget—I could swear I saw him with Namjoon at the diner that day.

— That’s my mate, Min Yoongi. — Fayette says with a smile, waving at him. Within seconds, his “don’t talk to me” expression shifts into a beautiful smile directed at her.

— What’s he doing here?

— Cadance, let’s talk inside, please. — Fayette asks again, and judging by her face, this isn’t some casual girl talk; it’s serious business.

Once we’re in the living room, I ask for a moment to prepare some tea and quickly return within ten minutes, bringing tea and some cookies.

— Well, — I begin, picking up a cup of tea. — You may start.

— You know I’m a wolf-witch hybrid, right? — I nod, sipping the tea. — Maybe I haven’t told you yet, but I have a gift of seeing glimpses of the future. Before you and Namjoon mated…had sex, I already knew.

— So he knew?

— No, I told him about my vision afterward, but that’s less important now. — Despite Fayette’s usual calm demeanor, whatever she’s about to say is clearly making her nervous. — They’re hunting you, sweetheart.

— What? — I exclaim, nearly burning myself with the tea, which, by the way, I’m the only one drinking. — What kind of story is this now?

— Do you remember the creature that chased you? — Yong-Ji asks, and just the memory of it sends chills down my spine.

— Y-yes.

— It was just bait to find my cousin’s weakness. — Yong-Ji begins. — Namjoon might not have noticed their leader nearby because his wolf was entirely focused on protecting you and killing whoever hurt you. But the problem is, the man who created those creatures knows who you are, and worse, he knows how important you are to our alpha.

— Namjoon hasn’t left that cabin in days. — Fayette comments. — I know this isn’t your fault, and you might not understand, but in our culture, when a wolf is rejected by his mate, he falls into despair, often neglecting everything. As an alpha, Namjoon abstaining from his duties is leaving the pack insecure.

— So it’s my fault he’s not doing what he’s supposed to?

— No, dear, I’m just telling you what’s happening. — Fayette says. — The wolf who created these creatures is a pureblood like us, but he sold his gene to a hunter who used it to produce lab-grown wolves he can manipulate to hunt us.

— Namjoon is one of the strongest alphas with one of the largest packs in the state. If Dolphius gets to you, he’ll have access to Namjoon. And with Namjoon weakened, Dolphius gains the upper hand. — Yong-Ji’s voice is heavy with sadness. — If Dolphius defeats Namjoon, he becomes our alpha. And trust me, we’ll be living in hell, and his creations will feast on the entire city.

— That could be the end of the alliance between humans and wolves. — Fayette takes my hands. — I’m not asking you to forgive him for lying to you, but please, come with us. If he at least knows you’re safe and there, he’ll start to recover.

— I-I need to think.

— We don’t have much time, Cadance. — Yong-Ji says. — Tonight is a full moon, and as far as I know, you two have mated, haven’t you?

— We didn’t…

— Yes, you did. And even if you don’t realize it, he marked you. — She continues. — When the moon is fully risen, you’ll need our help.

— Why?

— With his bite, you’ve sort of acquired certain traits. So your body will experience some changes influenced by the moon.

— What do you mean? What the hell are you talking about? — I snap. — Am I going to turn into a wolf too?

— No, you won’t become a wolf. Calm down. You’ll just feel… certain things. — Fayette says, trying to soothe me.

— What kind of things will I feel? Be straight with me, Fay!

— I’m not entirely sure; it depends on how strong your bond with him is.

— How do you feel?

— Well, — she clears her throat, her face flushing. — I feel an overwhelming urge to mate with my husband, but we have a strong bond. Since you and Namjoon are distant, you might just feel angrier than usual or…I don’t know.

I spend several minutes thinking and rethinking what to do. Both options feel like ultimatums for me.

— Where will I stay there? — I ask, and my question seems to excite them.

— You can stay with me. — Yong-Ji offers. — I’m not mated.

— And what would be the problem if you were?

— Oh, would you rather stay at Fayette’s house? Because you might not get much sleep with them fucking at all over the place.

Fayette bursts into laughter and lightly smacks Yong-Ji’s arm.

— Oh, God! — I cover my mouth, shocked. — But you’re pregnant.

— Pregnant, not dead.

— You’re such a naughty girl. — I say, and their laughter is contagious, pulling me in.

— Go pack your things so we can leave before nightfall. — Yong-Ji says amidst laughter.

[...]

The reverse is the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The late afternoon gave me a bit of light to appreciate that beautiful place and its stunning people. I don’t know if it’s a wolf genetics thing, but everyone here is gorgeous, even the elders to a lesser extent. The houses are separated from one another, like in a village, and each one has a unique design. From what I remember, only Namjoon’s house is a cabin, and it’s farther away from the rest—I could swear I saw a lake behind it. Yongi-Ji’s house is no different; it’s small but charming, with a distinct touch of her own, filled with vintage furniture and decorations.

— You can have the first room; it’s right at the beginning of the hallway. — Yongi-Ji points to the hallway next to the kitchen. — The bathroom is just next to it.

— Thank you. — I give her a smile.

Looking around the house, I notice a wall filled with framed photographs. In most of them, he’s there, with a smile that melts my heart and a body that makes mine burn like embers.

— He’s like a brother to me. — Yongi-Ji whispers behind me. — But sometimes he acts like a grumpy dad.

— Overprotective?

— You have no idea. — She replies, smiling and gazing at the photos. — But he’s an amazing person, the best alpha we have. We’re all grateful for him.

— What about his parents?

— They died in conflict, but they left behind a great alpha.

— I understand, and I’m sorry. — She nods and gives me a “It’s okay, it’s in the past” smile. — I-I’m going to lie down for a bit; I have a headache.

— Oh, do you want something for the pain? I can grab something from Matt.

— No, it’s fine. Just a few minutes of sleep, and it’ll pass.

— Alright, then. — She shrugs. — If you wake up and don’t find me, it’s because I’ll be at the field. Since tonight’s a full moon, it’s the ascension ritual for some of the younger betas. You can come if you want; just follow the sound of the music, and you’ll find us.

[...]

After taking a nice nap, I wake up still feeling lazy and a bit dizzy. I check the time on my new phone and see that it’s already past two in the morning. I get out of bed, head to the bathroom, and take a hot shower because it's freezing, then I dress warmly and go to enjoy the so-called ascension ritual. I hadn’t even properly arrived when I’m greeted with stares from everyone, and despite all the warm clothes, I managed to hide my "human scent." I also notice that I’m the only one dressed like someone from the North Pole; everyone else there is dressed like it's summer, and I see a group of boys wearing only sweatpants. I didn’t want to get too close, because besides feeling like an intruder, I know I am one, so I decide to stay away, but when I realize it, I see Fayette and her husband approaching. I notice there were torches hanging from the trees, a large table with plenty of food and drinks, and music played by percussion instruments.

 — I see you decided to accept Yong-Ji’s invitation. — She says as she approaches and gives me a hug, and I can already feel the bump of her pregnant belly.

 — Yeah, Yong-Ji doesn’t have a TV, so… — Fayette giggles and stands next to her husband, who remains serious.

 — Honey, meet Cadance, and Cadance, meet Min Yoongi. — Yoongi extends his hand for a handshake, and I swear I’m afraid to shake it, he looks at me like he wants to bite me at any moment.

 — It’s a pleasure to meet you. — I shake his hand, and he returns the handshake, but lightly.

— Likewise. — He says curtly, but his voice is deep and sensual. Fayette is a lucky woman.

— I’ll join Namjoon, dear. Stay where I can see you. — He says lovingly to her, and it's sweet how he uses “see you” to refer to her and their little one, and he gives her a loving kiss on the forehead before walking away. The scene of their small gesture of love is so beautiful that the name “Namjoon” leaving his mouth doesn’t make me nervous.

 — Are you excited to see the ritual? — Fayette wraps herself around my arm, excited.

 — What is it?

— Basically, the boys have an arm-wrestling match, and the last one standing challenges the alpha, and then they have to hunt for all of us. — Fay explains excitedly.

— When you say hunt…

— Not people. — She smiles. — Don’t worry. It's other animals, like deer.

— Where is Yong-Ji?

— Probably behind those trees, kissing someone.

— Oh. — I say, surprised and laughing. — She doesn’t look like that kind of person.

— I used to think that too. — Fay laughs.

— How you two…

The sound of some kind of horn interrupts me, the chatter stops, and I don’t know why, but I start to get nervous, a little itch behind my neck, and a shiver. A man places a large chair next to the circle. Fayette and I are a little further from the people because I didn’t want to draw attention to the event that was special to them with my human scent, but I can see Fayette’s husband, and I can bet I heard her sigh when she saw him. Another man exits the tent, dressed only in pants with body paintings, with several circles and designs.

— What do the designs mean? — I whisper the question to Fayette.

— They mean strength, power, and loyalty.

When the man blows the horn differently than the first time, Namjoon steps out from behind the tent with all his grace and sexiness, his muscular torso exposed, with the same designs; he exudes power when he sits in the chair set for him, you can feel how respected he is by everyone.

The ritual begins with a pair of boys fighting bravely in a fair match, boys of various ages, I’d guess around 19 or more, it’s a brutal fight with a lot of blood, but the boys are tough. I’ve never liked fights and blood much, but it’s interesting to watch because, despite all the brutality, it was almost beautiful.

There were about 15 boys, and as Fayette had said before, only one stayed standing, and he seemed to be the oldest among them, I’d bet he’s around my age, he’s very strong. At this point, Namjoon rises from his chair with all the dominance and power he has, I know he’s going to meet the boy who challenged him, but his gaze is entirely on me, and I feel my body start to respond, the heat rising within me, and wearing that outfit becomes unbearable.

When the fight starts, strangely, all the movements Namjoon makes to dodge the opponent’s blows leave me wet. The way his body dances in the fight is so light that I feel pity when the boy takes a punch because it’s strong and brutal. I start hyperventilating and feeling my body sweat. I close my legs in search of relief, but it’s impossible. I feel suffocated with all that clothing, and all I want is to run back to Yong-Ji’s house and get under the shower. But he looks at me, and I feel an overwhelming urge to scream.

— Cadance, are you okay? — Fayette notices my distress.

— N-N-No, I-I need to go.

I run quickly to Yong-Ji’s house, take off all that clothing, leaving only my leggings and bra, and run to the kitchen sink, putting my head under the water to try to relieve all that heat. I hear the front door open, and I can bet it’s Fayette, worried.

— Go back there, Fay, I’m fine. Your husband might be worried if he doesn’t find you. — I say with my head still under the faucet.

— Are you really okay? — Namjoon’s voice leaves me stunned, and I pull away from the faucet quickly.

— What are you doing here? D-Don’t you have a ritual to finish?

— I finished right after you left, now they’re all hunting. — He answers calmly. Namjoon is still in his ritual attire, wearing only pants.

— Don’t you need to participate in the hunt? — He smiles, probably liking that I’m interested.

— Technically, no. — He closes the door and doesn’t approach. — Are you okay?

— No, I’m not okay! I feel like I’m going to collapse. — I rant. — Why does your bite make me want you so badly? Why?

— My bite doesn’t make you want me, that’s something you. — He says calmly, slowly approaching.

— Yong-Ji said the moon would make me feel things…

— Yes, but it doesn’t make you love me.

— How do you know I love you? — With each of his steps, my heart beats faster.

— I don’t know, I just… feel it. — Namjoon gets very close, tugs a wet strand of my hair behind my ear. — Because I feel the same. I know you’re suffering, and I am too. — He brushes his lips against mine, torturously. — You were chosen to be mine, but I wanted you to choose me to be yours. What are you so afraid of?

 — I don’t know. — My eyes become watery because everything I’m feeling feels like an explosion of emotions. — I want you, but…

— What? — He smells my neck and leaves a kiss there.

— I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it scares me.

— I understand. — He kisses my cheek. — But be sure, I can make you angry, but I’ll never disappoint you. Since our first night, I’ve been yours.

— Kiss me. — I ask, and it doesn’t take long. Namjoon attacks my lips, and I don’t want gentleness, I want him now.

The kiss is wild, he grabs the back of my neck and my waist, bringing me closer to him, I moan and try at all costs to hold on to him more, my body is crying out for him. Namjoon pulls me by the legs and places me on his lap, he moves through the house and enters the room where Yong-Ji is placing me.

Oh God.

He lays me down on the bed and lowers himself to the edge of the bed, between my legs, takes off his pants and lets out a moan. The air rushes in and out of my lungs, keeping me unable to function.

I look down, seeing him staring at my soaked white lace panties. He takes the piece of lace between his fingers and pulls it off. Soon after, his soft, cool tongue caresses the lips of my pussy. A soft, needy moan escapes my lips. He lifts his face to look at me.

— Namjoon...

I didn't know what to say, only because if he stopped now, I could go crazy. And kill him. Definitely kill him, for teasing a woman who hadn’t had sex with anyone but him since that night. His lips curved into a sexy, confident smile. 

— I didn’t get to taste you that day, but I bet you taste like cinnamon.— He lowered his head and gave me a slow lick before I could process his words. — Mmm…

He growled into my pussy. The vibration sent a wave of pleasure racing through me. I fell back onto the bed, gripping the sheets in a white-knuckle grip. 

— Oh my…— He licked my pussy, around my clit and down to my anus. Fire spread in my belly and raced down between my legs. — God!

Namjoon licked my entrance, thrust his tongue into my pussy and began to tongue fuck it. I moaned loudly. His arms tightened around my thighs to keep my head pressed against him. In and out. Over and over, he thrusts the rough length of his tongue into my pussy.

I throw the blanket in my fists and grip the soft ends of his hair with both hands. I press my sex into his mouth, rocking my hips against his lips.

— Oh, oh, oh, oh! — I moan, focusing solely on the tension coiling inside me.

He rubs two fingers against my dripping entrance, dipping them inside and fucking me with quick, aggressive movements. Namjoon runs his tongue over my clit, licking in small circles over the swollen nub. He swirls his ring finger over my wet ass and slides it inside. Then he fucks me with two fingers: one in my pussy and the other in my ass. I gasp, the stretching tension so much tighter inside me. Namjoon sucks the small pleasure center into his mouth and grazes it with his teeth, biting it lightly.

I whimper. I’m so close.

With Namjoon sucking on my clit, I scream as a wave of pleasure washes over me. I gasp, sucking air into my lungs, hoping to catch my breath.

A loud ripping noise makes me snap my eyes open. Namjoon has ripped his pants off, then the last piece of clothing I have left. A groan lodges in my throat when I realize he’s completely naked. Thick muscles bind his lower body, and his long, hard cock points straight between my legs.

I spread my legs wide for him, but he shakes his head.

— Turn over onto your stomach. — he says. His voice is a deep growl.

The harsh tone only served to make me heat up all over again. His jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared. It was clear he was having trouble controlling himself. For some reason, instead of getting scared, I got even more turned on.

Carefully, taking my time, I turned over onto my stomach, lifted my ass up in the air and smiled at him.

— Is that what you want?

I watched him stroke his long length. Moisture dripped from the head of his cock, which he used to lube himself. That's when I realized he wasn't wearing a condom and well, I shouldn't worry now since we've already done that, but I asked anyway.

— Where's your protection?

He continued to stroke his cock, lubricating it with the drops of pre-ejaculate.

— Pure wolves don't get STDs, or any of your human diseases.

Was that enough? I doubted he could get me pregnant. He's part wolf, after all. I'm no expert, but I was pretty sure that interspecies mating wouldn't produce any babies, I guess. Still, I'd never had sex without a condom. The question vanished from my mind when he approached me from behind, grabbing my hips and rubbing the head of his cock between my cheeks.

— I... Um... I don't think I'm ready for anal right now.

I'd never done anything to that entrance before, and I wasn't sure if I'd like it either. It's one thing for him to put his finger in my ass while licking it so well I don't even notice, and quite another for him to shove his very large cock back there.

— Relax baby, I'm not going in your sweet ass. — Namjoon grins and slides the head of his cock down until it's at my entrance. — Unless you want me there. — he adds and thrusts forward, filling me in one quick slide.

— Oh my God. 

I drop my head forward, resting my forehead on the soft sheets, my hands gripping the bedclothes. 

He pulls out until he’s almost completely out of me and then slams back in. I groan, gripping the sheets tighter. 

His cock slams in and out of my pussy in quick, slurping motions. His grip is tight on my hips. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, mixed with loud moans and whimpers fills the air in the early evening. 

With each hard thrust inside me, he pushes me closer to climax. His movements increase in speed, becoming more forceful. I’m not sure what’s changed, but savagery has taken over his advances. Then he’s forcing my body at a downward angle, giving him a powerful double view from behind. 

He growls, falling onto my back, his movements even faster and harder, with a growing desperation. Bursts of heat race down my spine and center in my belly. 

Harsh breaths and low growls sounded from the back of my neck, a harsh, panting time with his own ragged breathing.

— Please, God, please…

I’m ready to offer him everything, if he’ll just make me come.

Our sweat covered both of our bodies, making it easy for him to slide and slide up and down my back. He brushed his lips over the curve of my shoulder, causing a slow vibration along the flesh, before flicking his tongue quickly.

— I know what you want, baby. I know what you need.— He licked my sweaty shoulder repeatedly, his rough tongue adding to the overly sensitized sensation of my skin. — And I’m going to give it to you right now, baby.

Desperate moans raced through my throat.

He pounded me with his cock. My gasp increased with each fluid stroke.

His licks drugged me into such frantic desperation, I didn’t even think about his teeth grazing my back.

— You’re so fucking perfect, Cadance.

My breath hitched and my orgasm rushed toward me so quickly, I could taste it. 

I scream, vibrating through the waves of release as he moves his cock into my pussy and the throbs and tremors beat one after the other. His smooth body stiffens against my back as his hot cum fills my womb in rapid bursts. For long moments, he just continues to cum inside me, licking and kissing the back of my neck.

Boneless and exhausted, I lie on my stomach, huffing and puffing. My brain and body have turned to jelly and are not in working order for the foreseeable future.

He lies down beside me and pulls me to him, until I am lying, half draped over him and with my face resting on his chest.

This night has been different in an almost cosmic way. On our first, almost disastrous night, which was also wonderful, I had not felt what I felt now. Maybe it was because I am now accepting of feeling what I feel for him, I am accepting him as he is.

Now I am his mate.

We lay there for long minutes, we were exhausted in a good way, dirty, but refreshed. Maybe Yong-Ji would freak out when she saw the beautiful bed sheets stained with paint, sweat and sex, but I'm sure she would forgive.

When our breathing became stable, I still draw the same designs he had painted on my skin a few hours ago, with the tip of my nail on his chest, while he caressed my head to the ends of my hair, and that delicious caress was almost making me fall over.

— Nam, what happens to my body when you mark it? — I look up and he has a tired smile on his face.

— Your body starts to age more slowly, your senses become a bit heightened, and you can feel my fears, worries, and joys. — I nod. — You can ask those questions that are on your mind, baby.

— Really? Because I have a few in mind, and they might sound stupid.

He smiles and places a kiss on my forehead. It's so gentle and loving that it makes me want to cry; I never imagined being loved like this.

— They won’t sound stupid to me. I’ll be happy to answer all of them. You’re my partner, you deserve to know everything you need to know about me and your new family.

— And what if one of them doesn’t accept me because I’m human?

— They might not accept you, but they should respect you as an equal because, by disrespecting you, they’re disrespecting me too.

— That’s strangely sexy.

— Oh, really? — He raises an eyebrow, and I nod. — Good to know.

— You know what’s the funniest thing about all of this? — He shakes his head. — My new book is about a human and a wolf, fate’s irony, right?

— I wouldn’t call it irony, but something that was destined to be. — Namjoon sits down, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed, and I snuggle against him. — My mom used to say that we all have things written for us to happen, and there’s no way to change it, because even if you try to deviate from fate, things always seem to move toward happening.

— That’s interesting. Can you tell me later? I want to write it down for my book. — He smiles and nods. — I don’t want to ruin the mood, but Yong-Ji told me about some guy named Dolphius and his lab rats.

Namjoon growls softly when he hears the man’s name.

— It’s under control for now, and with you here, we have more control over him because he can’t manipulate me. But Dolphius is a relentless man, and he wants revenge for being kicked out of his pack; however, my team is ready for him if he wants war.

— Oh, wow! — I exclaim, surprised. — That line would be great in the book too.

My words break the tense mood, and he smiles, pulling me closer.

— How are the sex scenes in your book going? — He asks, squeezing my waist. — I read one of your books about a bad boy and a nerdy librarian, and I have to confess, I would love to recreate some scenes with you. They’re hot, and I got horny reading them.

I feel my face turn red.

— Well, um... I haven’t gotten to the sex part yet, I mean, there were those preliminaries.

— So we should create some scenes so you can remember them when writing, huh? — When Namjoon pulls me, I feel his hard dick touching my stomach, and I already know what’s coming.

— That sounds like a good idea. — I give a wicked smile and let him lie on top of me and position himself between my legs.

— I love you, Cadance. — He declares, looking straight into my eyes as he enters me.

— I love you too, Nam. — I hold his hand, and I can feel that he’s taking things slow, but it’s delicious and romantic at the same time.

— From my body to yours, a heart, forever.

2166 words | masterlist

Lauren’s heart feels like it’s about to leap out of her chest. She’s screwed, up to her neck in trouble, and she knows it. As soon as she gets out of the car, she doesn’t notice the approach of a woman. The shock comes with a violent tug on her hair, so strong that she instinctively lets go of Autumn, bringing her hands to her head as she tries to break free from the fierce grip.

— Victoria, what the hell is this?! — Mia shouts, running toward the woman who is now holding Lauren in place.

— Stay out of this, Mia! — Victoria growls, her eyes filled with hate. — She handed us over to those worms. Because of this bitch, my brother is dead!

Lauren screams in pain as Victoria twists her arm behind her brutally.

— The boss is waiting for you, you bitch! — Victoria hisses, with a perverse satisfaction on her lips.

Mia stops, her body stiff, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. She liked Lauren. Even now, even though the accusations against her are grave, something inside Mia wants to believe in her innocence. But between what she wants and what she can do, there is an abyss.

— Mia, please! — Lauren pleads, tears streaming down her face as the pain in her arm throbs.

Victoria isn’t just strong; she’s a force of nature. At almost 6 feet tall, with defined muscles and a gaze that seems to pierce through, she drags her like a broken toy.

— Move it! — Victoria roars, pushing Lauren with so much force that it almost knocks her down.

They head to the barn behind the house. Lauren, bent with pain, keeps her head down, but her eyes catch glimpses of the place. The smell hits her before her vision: old blood, mold, feces. The nauseating odor of death is unmistakable, seeping into every fiber of the environment.

The barn looks as decayed as the main house. Lauren feels her stomach churn and the fear sink deeper. Her body is tense, but her mind won’t stop. Questions whirl in her head, mixed with indignation and despair. How could Mark do this to her? He’s always been a jerk, but she never imagined he could betray her like this.

— Walk straight, or I’ll break your arms! — Victoria threatens, her voice cold, making Lauren shudder.

She tries to relax her body, searching for a useless relief from the discomfort, but the feeling of helplessness consumes her. Every step toward the unknown is a new layer of fear, a new wave of dread.

As she enters the barn, the air seems to weigh even heavier. With each second, the conviction that she won’t leave this place alive grows.

Victoria forces Lauren to fall to her knees. The impact is brutal; Lauren’s knees collide with the uneven ground, full of dirt and sharp stones. The pain is excruciating, but the fear is so intense that it numbs her body. She feels despair taking over, and as she looks ahead, she sees two bodies lying motionless on the ground. A chill runs down her spine. She’s going to die tonight. She’s sure of it.

— Boss, the bitch is here! — Victoria yells, her voice filled with hatred and disdain.

Victoria, an Italian-American, has been loyal to the mafia since birth. She and her brother, Luigi, have been trusted members of Yoongi’s organization for years. The tension in the barn is suffocating.

From the darkest corner, a figure emerges. Yoongi appears, his sinister silhouette standing out under the weak light. His steps are slow but full of authority. He smokes a joint with the calmness of someone who controls everyone’s fate there. The short-sleeved white shirt contrasts with the black dress pants, and the tattoos that cover his neck and muscular arms seem to tell dark stories.

He clicks his tongue and crouches, coming down to Lauren’s level.

— I apologize for Victoria. — His voice is rough, almost casual, but filled with implicit threat.

— Boss… — Victoria tries to argue, perplexed.

— Wait outside. — The order is cold and final. Victoria swallows hard before leaving, leaving Lauren alone with the most dangerous man she’s ever met.

Yoongi extends his hand to Lauren. His expression is enigmatic, and Lauren doesn’t know what to think. Is he insane? Bipolar? Either way, he’s terrifying.

— Don’t be afraid. If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve already done it. — He smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

Lauren hesitates but accepts his cold, calloused hand. As she stands up, Yoongi lets go of her trembling hand as if it were on fire. In truth, everything that surrounds Lauren stirs something disturbingly warm in him, a feeling he doesn’t understand and hates to admit.

He turns, walking toward the wooden door at the back of the barn. Lauren follows, still not believing her legs can move. Yoongi knocks twice on the door, which is opened by another man.

The metallic smell of blood and bile invades her nostrils, and Lauren feels her stomach turn. Inside the room, the sight is a nightmare: a man is tied to a chair, his hair soaked, drooling, vomiting, and blood dripping from his body, forming pools on the floor. To the right, a barrel of water reflects the flickering light, and to the left, a table full of torture instruments that would make anyone tremble.

Yoongi approaches the man and, without hesitation, grabs his hair, forcing him to lift his head. Lauren feels the world spin when she recognizes the disfigured face.

— Oh God! David… — Her voice comes out in a choked whisper. She approaches, her trembling hands touching her friend’s battered face. His right eye is completely swollen and closed, his cheeks deformed, his lip cut, his face drenched in blood and sweat.

— Why did you do this to him? — She shouts, her voice trembling between anger and desperation. — He has nothing to do with this!

Yoongi smiles, dark and cruel. He leans in close to David’s face and whispers in his ear:

— Why don’t you tell her, little David?

— Tell what? — Lauren explodes, her voice louder now, her eyes full of tears. The memories of her best friend, killed by monsters like Yoongi, come rushing back.

David mumbles something incomprehensible, and Lauren feels her heart tighten.

— If you want to blame someone, blame me! — She shouts. — I told Mark where I was, but I didn’t know he’d do this! David has nothing to do with this! Let him go!

Once again, Yoongi smiles, but this time, it’s a loud, cruel laugh that echoes through the room.

— What’s so funny, you sick son of a bitch?! — Lauren growls, her teeth clenched in pure rage, her hands balled by her sides.

Yoongi abruptly stops laughing, his gaze turning as cold as ice.

— The fun, Lauren, is seeing how stupid you are. It’s almost pitiful.

He pushes David’s head with force, making him almost fall. — This bastard here has been pretending to be your friend, but actually, he’s with John and your little boyfriend.

Lauren stares at Yoongi, confused but with her heart racing.

— What are you talking about?

— I’m saying these three assholes betrayed you! — Yoongi pulls David’s hair brutally, forcing him to face Lauren. — Tell her! Tell her you broke into her apartment and hurt her cat because the animals knew you and wouldn’t make a fuss. Tell her you knew John planned her father’s murder! And that your dear boyfriend just wanted to marry her to steal everything she has and then kill her! TELL HER YOU FUCKING BETRAYED HER TRUST!

Lauren feels the ground open beneath her feet. Her hands tremble, she can’t speak, and even breathing becomes a challenge.

David whispers weakly, almost a murmur:

— It’s a lie… Lauren…

— How could you do this?! — Lauren’s voice cracks, the words heavy with pain. — Your daughters played with Snow! Elisa loved her! How could you have the courage?!

Jimin, one of Yoongi’s men, watches the scene with his arms crossed, but his cutting tone interrupts.

— This son of a bitch isn’t what he seems. You’d be surprised.

David tries once more to deny it, his voice a thread. — It’s a lie…

— A lie? — Jimin raises an eyebrow with disdain. — Should I show her, Hyung?

Yoongi nods, allowing it.

Jimin steps toward Lauren and holds up a phone, showing a video. It’s a recording from the building’s security cameras. She clearly sees David talking to the doorman, who lets him through without question. The video shows David breaking into the apartment. Then, the sound of Snow screaming in desperation echoes, a wail full of pain. Lauren’s heart tightens; her blood boils.

The avalanche of information hits her like a wave. Confusion gives way to uncontrollable fury. She sees a metal bar lying beside her and grabs it without thinking. With a scream of rage, Lauren delivers a brutal blow to David’s leg.

The man lets out a scream of pain so high-pitched it echoes through the room. One of Yoongi’s henchmen steps forward, but Yoongi raises his hand, stopping any intervention. He watches, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

— Let her unload. — Yoongi murmurs, almost to himself.

Lauren continues. The blows come with tears and screams. The iron bar descends repeatedly onto David, while she yells insults. Then, a dry, horrible sound fills the air — the snap of a broken bone, piercing flesh and skin.

— Enough! — Yoongi decides, moving forward. He grabs Lauren’s arm before she can strike again.

— Let go of me! — She screams, trying to break free, her fists pounding against his chest.

— Call Jin now! — Yoongi orders one of the men, before pulling Lauren out. — This bastard can’t die yet.

Lauren struggles, tears streaming down her face. 

— LET GO OF ME! HE NEEDS TO PAY! THEY ALL NEED TO PAY!

— You need to calm down! — Yoongi tries, but his firm voice only heightens her fury.

— CALM ME DOWN?! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE THE WORLD FALLING APART IN YOUR HEAD! — Lauren screams, her throat burning from the effort. — YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN! 

— FUCK YOU! — Lauren yells right in his face. Yoongi lets out a dry laugh and signals to one of the men outside. 

— Bring the car. 

 As Lauren continues to fight, Yoongi wears an ironic smile. He knows the battle for Lauren’s sanity is just beginning — and he’ll be there to make sure she survives, his way. 

Yoongi speeds down the road, while Lauren desperately tries to open the door and scream. Rage and despair consume her, but he remains impassive, hands firm on the wheel. Slowly, her energy fades. She curls up in the seat, gasping for air as the tears silently begin to fall.

The car halts abruptly near an isolated lake. Yoongi turns off the engine but makes no immediate move. He hears the muffled sound of Lauren’s crying, which turns into deep, uncontrollable sobs. She cries, cries until she can’t breathe, until her body shakes. The pain seems unbearable. 

They took her father and turned everything into a farce of natural fate. They were betraying her right under her nose. And now, they planned to kill her. Every tear that falls carries three things: 

Pain, from realizing her father was murdered. 

Anger, for being so naïve not to notice sooner. 

And sadness, for feeling like everything in her life has crumbled. 

For a moment, the dark thought takes over her mind. Lauren wishes she were dead. 

Time passes in a heavy silence. Almost an hour later, her voice, hoarse and trembling, cuts through the air: 

— It was Mark, wasn’t it? 

Yoongi watches her through the rearview mirror before responding. Her hair is a mess, the ridiculous kitten pajamas dirty and wrinkled, and her face swollen from crying. Despite this, he can’t ignore how beautiful she is, even in this vulnerable state. 

— Not exactly. — His voice is firm. — That call was just to confirm our location. David confessed he put a tracker on the gray kitten’s collar. 

On another occasion, Lauren might have laughed hearing Yoongi call Autumn "the kitten," but not now. Not while her life is in pieces. 

She looks away, trying to organize her thoughts, and Yoongi stays silent, respecting the moment. He watches her through the rearview mirror, noticing every detail. Lauren looks like a wounded bird, but he sees something deeper. Behind the fragility, a strength is beginning to emerge. A lioness is waking up. 

Finally, she lifts her eyes, staring at Yoongi through the mirror. Her voice is laden with a cold, unshakable fury: 

— I want revenge. I want them all dead. 

Yoongi feels a wave of adrenaline rush through his body. For a second, he almost jumps from the seat, driven by the intensity of her declaration. That fierce, dangerous determination captivates him like never before. 

— I promise you, darling, you’ll have it. — His response is low, almost a whisper, but laden with dark promises. 

3680 words | mainlist

Kim Namjoon

Biting her was a mistake. I shouldn’t have succumbed to my wolf's idea of marking her; it was far too risky at this point. My pack is in chaos, and I didn’t have time for a mate, but no matter how hard I tried, it was inevitable to resist.

When I walked into that diner like every other morning, I smelled her perfume, inhaled a deeper breath, letting the irresistible scent roll over my senses. Her fragrance called to me, it was sweet and spicy. Absolutely irresistible.

Our mate is here! — was the first thing my wolf howled inside me.

After 300 years, I finally smelled that seductive fragrance, it was unmistakably hers. Since I reached the age of transition, my father had told me it was the age when wolves find their mates, but many years passed, and I never found her. The old witch told me that my mate would be different and that I would need to be patient and open to change, but she never told me how she would be, or that she would be human. Understand, I have no problem with humans, in fact, some of them have a problem with me because I am different, and I never dared flirt or have any kind of relationship with a human because, as much as I wanted to, our races, although seemingly similar, were very different. How would a human mate handle the fact that I am a wolf and transform into one? How would it be when we mated? Could she handle having my pups? Humans tend to be weak and fragile, especially their females.

That night, I stopped after drinking as soon as I smelled her at Joe’s bar, savoring the erotic fascination I was feeling. My expression changed from shock and admiration to that of a hunter, a predator.

I closed my eyes, all the muscles in my body tensing, my cock hardening.

She has to be here.

I let my olfactory senses become sharp to locate her. Thanks to Mother Moon for deciding to make an appearance in the city at night. I almost never did because the people in the city, who were truly gossiping, didn’t like my family much.

But after the diner, some instinct led me to that place, to my mate.

I shuddered when he called me. I was a wolf, and my designated mate was a human. But my mistake was biting her; that wasn’t the time for either of us, damn it, maybe she won’t know how to handle everything after what I did. I was selfish not to have warned her about me or ignored her.

I could ignore it and focus on the problems my pack is facing, but it’s impossible not to feel her scent on my whole body, and every time I closed my eyes, it was the image of her having an orgasm that formed, and I knew she would start suffering, especially with the full moon.

However, my pack and I are being hunted and killed.

This is what my pack has been going through since I took the alpha position that was once my father’s. Before, we only had typical skirmishes with other packs over territory, hunting, and deaths, which were part of any fight between wolves. But now it wasn’t the same; we were being killed for absurd reasons. The first death among us was the brutal murder of Bruce’s pups, poor kids only five or six years old who didn’t know how to defend themselves because they were apprentice wolves, and those bastards were cold and had no mercy. I had never seen any of my male wolves cry in my arms, and that day, Bruce, a strong beta wolf, cried with all the pain of losing his pups.

It was then that I decided the reserve would never receive visitors again, and maybe that was the reason the people in the city hated my family, especially me, because the visitors at the reserve attracted many tourists, which filled the mayor’s pockets.

But I hunted those who harmed my family until I was exhausted, killing them slowly, but all the glory of vengeance and justice was done by Bruce. When we found out who had murdered the pups, we ended up uncovering something a witch had given us in a prophecy. She said: They will seem like your ideal mates, but they are actually enemies. They are not children of the moon; they are the plague that will destroy the wolf race if not eradicated at the root. The leader is their strength and the strongest among them, but by killing him, they will save everyone. My betas and I, who acted as second in command in my absence, thought it might be an exaggeration from the witch, who had for a long time been the spiritual eyes of the pack. But when the first death of one of ours happened, we knew it had something to do with the prophecy because a real wolf would never kill pups; a real wolf would never try to match his strength with that of a pup.

At first, Min Yoongi, one of my betas and adviser, deduced that maybe the wolf who killed the children was in a stage of madness, which can happen, although it’s a rare case. But we discarded that when, upon investigation, we discovered that it wasn’t a wolf like me or from any other pack.

The claw patterns, paw prints, and scent didn’t match that of a true wolf, a child of the moon; it was as if they were a cheap imitation.

Months later, we heard rumors that young people between 18 and 23 years old were disappearing in the city, mostly males, and the situation got so bad that the local police contacted us to help with the investigation. We had an agreement with the police; they knew about us, but kept it a secret. Seokjin, one of my betas, works as a detective in the Montana district police department, and he was the one who found out that they were making clones using wolf genes. I thought I had seen it all after so many years, but I was shocked when I learned this, and it drove me crazy. I wanted to find those responsible for such cruelty and make them suffer.

Jin had told us that they chose males in that age range because it’s when true wolves typically go through the transition from human to wolf. But the difference between us and those boys being forced into this was that we grew up knowing who we were, being taught all our lives until we reached the age of transition. The creator of the false wolves uses the genes of a true wolf and implants them into males. From what we knew, many died from not being able to handle the pain of the transition, and only males showed “good” results in the experiment, because the females died as soon as the gene was administered.

Capturing one of them took months, but we finally caught one and discovered who was behind this. However, the false wolves were completely insane. They didn’t know how to balance wolf strength with human strength; the wolf was always in control. Their transition was incomplete, making them appear as beasts, and when they were in human form, their wolf traits were apparent. Moreover, the moon had no influence over them; they were completely uncontrolled and impulsive.

— Mr. Kim? — Uktena, an omega wolf who is also my secretary, enters the room with her head down.

— Yes? — I stop typing on my computer and look at her.

— Mr. Min and his mate are here, accompanied by Mr. Kim Seokjin and Mr. Jung.

— Please let them in.

— Yes, sir.

As Uktena leaves, I see part of my pack enter with not-so-happy faces.

— By the look on your faces, I can see you don’t bring good news. — I say, closing the notebook and giving them my full attention. — You can start speaking.

— We found out who’s behind the creation of the false wolves. — Jung begins.

— Who? — My blood boils, and my wolf wants to hunt the bastard down.

— Dolphius. — Fayette responds, a mixed-race wolf and Yoongi’s mate. — We found out he was kicked out of his pack.

— Why? Olcano never reported this to the council.

— Well, that’s what we need to find out and inform the council. — Jin says confidently.

— First, I must meet with Olcano.

— I think you should notify the council first. If they find out you spoke with Olcano before, they could accuse you of treason too. — Yoongi advises. Olcano is an alpha from the Minnesota pack, and even though Dolphius was his son, he couldn’t have hidden his expulsion from the pack from the council, and the big problem is that nothing should ever be hidden from the wolf council, from the smallest problem to the most absurd. And because of Dolphius’s actions escalating to this point and Olcano doing nothing to stop it, he becomes an accomplice.

I reach for the phone and press to speak with Uktena:

— Yes, Mr. Kim?

— Call the council, tell them it’s urgent, and that we found out who’s behind the false wolves. And inform the housekeeper at the mansion in Nevada to prepare everything; she’ll know what it’s about.

As soon as I finish the quick call, I turn my attention back to the people in my room:

— Tell Jungkook I want all the pups away from here, take them to the mansion in Nevada with only their mothers and tell them I want the best males to guard them. — I tell Hoseok, who nods and leaves the room. — Jin, you’re my best tracker, so keep me informed about everything. I want to know how far the bastards are going with this.

— You got it! — Jin gives a suggestive look at Yoongi and leaves the room. Something is coming.

— You can speak now. — I say to Yoongi and his mate.

— We have two pieces of news for you. — Fayette says now with a slightly happy face. — We’re having a pup.

I watch Yoongi’s grumpy face break into a genuine smile when his mate said “pup.”

— Mother Moon! This is great news. — I say, smiling. — I can’t wait to meet my nephew or niece! Congratulations!

— Thank you. — Fayette hugs her husband, smiling. — We’ll have a dinner to tell the others. Leave some of the alpha work aside and come have real food. Uktena told me you only eat burgers and ramen and barely go out to hunt.

— Uktena is a terrible gossip!

— Don’t talk like that about her! She’s an omega; she’ll tell everything if we press her a little, right, love? — I see Yoongi nodding. — And you can take advantage of the dinner to talk to everyone about what’s going on.

— You make a good point, you witch. — Fayette laughs because, just like her husband, she usually manages to convince me with a good argument. — But anyway, what’s the other news?

— Fay had a vision about you. — Yoongi says while holding his beloved’s hand. Fayette is a mixed-race wolf; her father was a wolf from the same pack as my father, and her mother was a clairvoyant witch. Both died in battles. — Tell him, love.

— The human you mated with is your mate. — Fayette’s words hit me like a blow, and well, it wasn’t something I was expecting to hear amid so much chaos. — But I think you know that, you smell like a human female.

— What? We didn’t mate, it was just sex. — I snap in surprise. — And that’s impossible, and even if it were, how would our races get along?

— Jungkook is dating that girl from the diner, and she's human, right? — She asks with an arched eyebrow.

— That kid doesn't know what he's doing! When he realizes humans are weak, he'll bail.

— Don't be ridiculous! — Fayette exclaims.

— Darling... — Yoongi reprimands her, since she's talking to me, aka the alpha. But I have to admit, Yoongi is lucky to have a strong woman who had the guts to stand up to the alpha.

— I'm sorry! — I see her take a deep breath. — My vision said she's your mate and might be in danger. You might think humans are weak because they're not like us, but you hated hybrids, and yet you accepted me into your pack when no one else did. So... please, don't go against destiny because you know what will happen.

Fayette leaves the room a bit upset, leaving only Yoongi:

— You know I don't like admitting it, but she's right.

— You like admitting your wife is right. — Yoongi smiles proudly. — But I need to think. Mating with all that's going on with my people is not my priority.

Yoongi nods.

— I'll be going. I want to take advantage of the fact that Fay is mad at you so we can make love. — The bastard smiles wickedly.

I start laughing at him and shake my head.

[...]

After having a serious conversation with one of the council leaders and also having a good and honest talk with Olcano, from one alpha to another, I return to my cabin. My house is simple; even though I inherited a lot of money from my family, I’ve never liked ostentation. The cabin was far from the other pack houses because one thing I’ve always liked is privacy.

When I finish my shower and settle in the living room to watch something and eat, thousands of thoughts swarm my mind, making me lose the desire to enjoy this night alone. I truly fear that Cadance is in danger, and the worst part is not knowing why or from whom. My biggest fear is that, after stupidly marking her and leaving my scent on her, those half-wolf pests would hunt her or, worse, Dolphius would use her as bait to try for some revenge.

Just before going to bed and trying to sleep a little, I sense different smells in the surroundings, so I sharpen my olfactory senses to identify who they belong to and their location. The first scent I detect that makes my whole body tremble is Cadance’s, mixed with fear and blood, and the second is the scent of a dying half-wolf, hunting my mate. I usually control when my wolf wants to emerge at the wrong times, but now, I let him take over my body, and as painful as the transformation from human to wolf is outside of the full moon period, I had to do it. I burst out of the cabin in my wolf form, and when I spot the bastard, I double the speed of my front paws and leap at him. The fight is insane, and I can admit that the half-wolf I’m fighting is strong, but not as much as I am. However, knowing that Cadance is out there, hurt and afraid, could make me a little distracted, and if I didn’t focus all my wolf strength, the half-wolf could defeat me.

The final blow is fatal for him, leaving him lying there lifeless, and I quickly shift back into my human form and rush toward Cadance, who is curled up at the foot of a small ravine.

— Hey, it’s okay. — I say to her as I cautiously approach, completely naked and covered in blood. Cadance has a cut above her eyebrow, and I can feel that she’s in pain in other parts of her body, and that, damn, it hurts so much, but slowly I watch her lose consciousness and faint. I quickly lift her into my arms, and as soon as I get to my cabin, most of the wolves are nearby, probably having heard and sensed everything. They all look at me with curiosity, and only Fayette looks at me with compassion.

— Call a doctor now! — I practically roar at them, and I see two wolves run off.

I place Cadance on the sofa bed in the living room, and Jimin’s mate brings me a bathrobe, which I thank her for with a glance and then focus on examining my mate. I notice that besides the cut on her forehead, she has a sprained ankle and scratches all over. My inner wolf howls, and if we could, we’d kill that wolf again.

— James’s mate has arrived. — Jungkook informs. Matt is the pack’s doctor, actually a veterinarian, but in our case, that’s fine, and for Cadance, he’s the only option at the moment.

— Make space. — Matt says as he opens his medical bag and stands by her. — You’re going to have to give me some room, man. I know you’re worried about her, but I’m going to do my best.

— Take her pain away! — I bark at Matt, and he starts examining Cadance with the utmost care, cleaning her wounds, stitching up her forehead, and finally putting a splint on her ankle.

— I’m going to prescribe some painkillers and antibiotics for this forehead wound. One of ours can go to the nearest pharmacy and bring it to you. — Matt looks at me. — But for now, she’s stable, just unconscious from the shock. I’ve given her medication for pain and anxiety.

— Thanks, Matt. — I give his shoulder a squeeze, and he gives me a side smile before leaving. — Min.

— Yes? — Yoongi approaches.

— Ask Fayette and the other women to give her a bath, please.

[...]

After the bath, Cadance was brought to my room and slept the whole night through. When the sun started to peek through and brighten the room, I noticed her eyelids begin to twitch, and I felt like she was about to wake up any moment. I had to be ready to explain the whole situation to her because I didn’t know exactly what she remembered, but honestly, I was praying she would forget everything. But as soon as her beautiful brown eyes opened, it took her seconds to realize where she was and who she was with, and when she did, her eyes widened, and she quickly sat up in the bed.

— Ouch! — She complained, placing her hand on her head.

— Calm down! — I got up from the armchair where I’d stayed on watch all night.

— Stay away from me! — Cadance exclaimed, still with a pained expression.

— Cadance, I can…

— Explain what? That you turned into a freaking wolf? Or that you killed some weird wolf-shaped thing? — I don’t know what expression I was showing, but she stopped talking and cursed under her breath: — Damn, I must be going crazy.

— What do you remember about last night?

Cadance stayed silent for a few minutes, staring at the bed sheet.

— Where am I? — She looked up at me for the first time that morning.

— You’re at my house.

— How?

— Don’t you remember anything?

She lowered her gaze again, as if forcing her mind to work to remember something.

— I remember my car breaking down on the side of the road near the entrance to Missoula, and some weird thing that looked like a human mixed with a wolf chased me. I remember hurting my foot and I remember you coming back in wolf form after killing that thing.

Cadance looked at me again, her eyes misty.

— Tell me this was all just a delirium because I hit my head.

I took a deep breath and approached her.

— I’m sorry, dear, but that wasn’t a delirium. I’ll explain everything.

[...]

I opened up about myself and my family, something I had never done with anyone from outside. The words came out with an alarming ease, because I had never opened up about these things, especially about my feelings, not even with the wolves I trust completely. The expression on Cadance's face, I couldn’t tell if it was a good or a terrible sign. She barely blinked, and every time death and hunting came out of my mouth, I could hear her breathing grow more thoughtful, and her heart beat faster.

As soon as I finish telling her everything, including that, in a way, we were both connected after I bit her, I wait for her to say something, but until then, Cadance stays silent for minutes without breaking eye contact.

— Cadance… I need you to say something.

She shifts in the bed, groaning a bit from the pain in her foot.

— This is the most insane and crazy thing I’ve ever heard. — She finally says, then starts crying and laughing at the same time. — This can't be real.

— I'm sorry.

— You’re sorry? — Cadance lets out an ironic laugh while wiping the tears from her face. — Did you feel sorry when you decided to mark me knowing it was you? And you did it anyway!

I stay silent because she's right. I lied to her about myself.

— I want to leave! Now!

— Your foot is still very swollen, and you live alone. Who’s going to help you move around? — I see her face turn red.

— I don’t care, damn it! Take me away, now!

My animal instincts wanted to run to the bed and claim her in a more primal way. She wasn’t consciously aware of it, but she was calling to me, pulling me toward her with all that fury.

The pull of my wolf fought with my common sense. Unfortunately, intellect had to win. My wolf was demanding to claim her, take her before she ran away. Only my sense of self-preservation, which had dominated for centuries, stopped me from pursuing her, pinning her down, and claiming her right there on the floor of the room. Or on the table. Or anywhere that was convenient.

5172 words | mainlist

Candace Turner

The process of change, whatever it may be, is always good—most of the time. At least for me, changes only came during my darkest moments, like a light at the end of the tunnel.

Since I left my parents' house at a very young age, I’ve always dedicated myself to owning my things and not depending on anyone. I graduated in the field I always dreamed of, and today I can say I’m about eighty percent complete.

At twenty-seven years old, I’m one of the most sought-after authors of erotic romance novels. Well, my parents don’t approve of the content I write—they say it’s inappropriate for a young lady—but it’s what makes me a lot of money and, most importantly, it’s what I love to do. And, between us, everyone enjoys reading something spicy from time to time.

I’m temporarily moving to Missoula, a small town in western Montana, for work. I needed a place that could inspire me to write a complete series about a wolf romance, and Missoula is perfect for that, with its vast green areas, gorgeous forests straight out of a Twilight movie, and its rocky mountains.

It had been nearly a year and a half since I’d released anything new for my readers, and the almost 5 million followers on Twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads weren’t shy about sending me messages, asking when my next series would come out. As if having nearly 60 books, most of which sold out worldwide, one movie, and two Netflix series weren’t enough—they still craved more.

I was going through the exhausting process of creative block—the terror of all writers—and the more trapped I felt in it, the worse it got. If only I had to deal with just the loving fans. But there was the media, my publisher, demanding fans, and the haters.

As if all this pressure wasn’t enough, one completely drunken night, I decided to tweet about an upcoming book series, accompanied by heart and wolf emojis.

The next day, my phone was flooded with notifications and calls. Fans were saying I’d make the Twilight author cry in the shower, others saying it was about time. My publisher was ecstatic, while I was pulling my hair out.

The truth? I had absolutely nothing planned. I’d never even written anything supernatural before. My books were limited to romances with CEOs, bad boys, and alpha-male types who, deep down, were just softies.

I didn’t know what to tell my publisher, so I started researching and reading books on the topic. Some ideas came to mind, but they weren’t enough. Then, during my research, I came across the tale of “The Mysterious and Strange Werewolf of Montana.” It detailed the story of a farmer in Missoula who constantly found his livestock mutilated and dead until he installed security cameras that captured footage of an unbelievably large wolf attacking the cattle.

What caught my attention was one clip supposedly showing the “wolf” transforming into what appeared to be a man. It was later proven that the man faked the whole thing to keep thieves away from his property, which made sense because werewolves don’t exist—and if they did, they wouldn’t show off on camera.

But that wild story sparked inspiration for my wolf romance.

My phone rang, interrupting the music in my car.

— Hello? —  I answered, keeping my eyes on the road.

— Candy, where are you? — I heard Quinne’s voice over the car’s speaker. She used the nickname Candy because, to her, my name and the word sounded almost the same.

— About twenty minutes from Missoula. — I replied, admiring the tree-lined road. — The air here is so fresh.

— Where? — Quinne practically yelled. — What are you doing on the other side of the country?

— Work.— I said, smiling.

— Did you really have to go that far? Couldn’t you, I don’t know, just make a vision board with photos of forests, hot men, and wolves?

— You know I couldn’t, Queen. — I said, using the nickname I gave her, which I thought sounded like Queen.

— You’ve never had to leave New York to write your previous books.

— That’s because all the inspiration was in the city.

— What made you want to write about wolves? They don’t even exist.

— Alcohol, maybe.

— Do you think you’ll finish before Christmas?

— I don’t know, Queen. I have an outline, but I haven’t started anything yet. — I answered as I passed a sign reading “Welcome to Missoula.”

— I get it, darling, but you know how David is. He went crazy when you posted that.

— I know, but he can’t forget that I’m the reason his pockets are overflowing with cash. So, you can tell him that pressuring me won’t work. — I said while parking near some stores. — — You know it doesn’t work that way.

— I know, you need to get into character. — she said, quoting my usual mantra. — Take your time and leave David to me.

— Thank you.

— Of course. I’ll call every night to check in and keep you updated.

— Great, because I’ll be—

— Disconnected from the world, I know. — she finished my sentence. Whenever I started writing, I ignored all social media distractions, only answering calls from my parents and Quinne.

— Thanks, Queen.

— Always count on me, Candy. Talk soon.

After hanging up, I got out of the car and walked to the rental agency I had contacted two weeks earlier.

As soon as I entered, a gentleman who looked to be in his fifties greeted me with a friendly smile.

— You must be Miss Turner.

— How did you know it was me?—  I asked, smiling as I approached the counter.

— I know everyone around here. — he shrugged. — And you’re the only person planning to enjoy summer in a chilly town.

— If only I were here for leisure, Mr….— I searched my mind for his name, but his name tag saved me. — Conway.

— Work? —  I nodded. — Well, let me get your keys.—  He turned to a board behind him, grabbed a key, and handed it to me. — Please sign this document and keep the copy with the house rules.

After signing the papers, I paid the second installment, and Mr. Conway handed me a map of the area.

— Oh, and Miss Turner. — he called just as I was about to leave.

— Yes? — I turned around.

— Of all the places in this town, just don’t go to the Kim Forest Reserve.

— Why not? —  I frowned.

— Just don’t.

[...]

The night in Missoula went smoothly, without much surprise or calls, except for Quinne, who just wanted to check in and see if everything was okay with me. Taking advantage of the quiet night, I organized my things and started writing: I outlined the characters' traits and drafted a scope for the entire story. Before going to bed, I paused my reading to jot down the inspirations that came to mind, and after that, I finally decided to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up relatively early, got ready for a morning walk that always helps me reconnect with my muse. As I left the house, I set my phone to alert me if I went beyond a certain perimeter to avoid getting lost, because every time I go out running and listening to music, I lose track of time and distance.

After running for about thirty minutes, I made a few stops to jot down some ideas that popped into my head, then resumed running. After more than an hour and a half of walking, my phone alerted me, and I gradually slowed down, removing my headphones to enjoy the sound of the birds. I caught my breath slowly while stretching a little, and as I turned around, I noticed a worn-out sign next to an old iron gate. The sign read:

Kim Family Forest Reserve. Private Property. Do Not Enter Without Permission.

At that moment, Mr. Conway's words echoed in my head like a warning, and God forbid I go against the advice of a man who seemed to know the town like the back of his hand. But honestly, just looking at the reserve from afar, I could tell it was a stunning place. If it weren’t for Conway’s warning and the sign that clearly screamed, If you enter, you’ll be shot!, I might have dared to go in because I was certain it would be an excellent place to write a book. Just standing there, looking, I already got a few more ideas.

However, staying there gave me an odd feeling that made the back of my neck prickle and a chill run down my spine—the sensation of being watched and followed. Strangely, there was no one around; aside from the reserve, there were no houses nearby, and with the branches scattered on the ground, I would have heard if someone was close.

With the tension building, I hurried back home as quickly as I could. Once I got home, I decided to prepare something for breakfast, only to sadly realize that I didn’t have anything decent in the fridge. Then I remembered that just past the rental agency, there was a typical neighborhood diner that most likely served a delicious and classic American breakfast. With this thought making my mouth water, I rushed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

[...]

I park my car in one of the spots right in front of the diner, grab my bag and coat since the city occasionally has some pretty chilly winds. As soon as I step into the diner, I’m greeted by the delightful smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon with eggs, instantly transporting me to old New York in the 1960s. Before I know it, my eyes are closed, and a subtle smile graces my lips. When I open them again, several elderly men and women are staring at me with strange looks, as if I were some kind of weirdo.

Embarrassed, I quickly make my way to the last table near the large windows. A few minutes later, a beautiful young woman approaches me:

 — Welcome to Wendy’s Food. What can I get you? — she asks with a tired yet friendly smile. I read her name on her badge, which says: Léna.

 — Good morning. — I return her smile. — What’s the most popular dish here?

 She lets out a little laugh and replies:

 — Scrambled eggs with bacon.

 — Then I’ll have that.

 — Okay. — She notes it down on her little notepad. — Anything to drink?

 — Hmm… — I mumble, picking up the menu and giving it a quick glance. — Lemon iced tea.

 — Sure! — She writes again. — Your order will be ready soon. Would you like a cup of coffee?

 — Oh... I…

 — It’s on the house for tourists. — I look at her, surprised. Does everyone in this town know I’m an outsider? Seriously? It’s not like I’m the most different-looking person here; I’m not even blonde or redheaded. — Excuse me?…

 — How do I know you’re a tourist? — I nod. — You asked what the most popular dish is, and everyone who lives here knows it’s scrambled eggs with bacon.

— Good point. — I shrug. — I’ll take the coffee.

While waiting for Léna to bring the coffee, I pull out my phone and turn on mobile data. As expected, a flood of notifications rolls across my screen, almost freezing my phone. I quickly let Quinne know that the book stuff is going well and reply to my parents about how I’m doing. Just as I put my phone away, Léna brings me a piping hot coffee and moves on to serve other customers.

As I take a sip of my coffee, the diner’s doorbell chimes, and I see someone walk in. That’s when I literally burn my lips on the coffee. The culprit behind my little mishap is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous and smoldering man I’ve ever seen—even more than the characters from my books. He’s tall, with well-defined, deliciously proportional muscles. His skin is slightly tanned, smooth, and free of any blemishes or hair. His eyes are almond-shaped and dark, and his lips... oh, his lips are the most luscious and tempting thing I’ve ever seen. Sweet Jesus, he could easily beat Henry Cavill in the "most handsome man in the world" category.

 — Shit. — I curse under my breath as the heat stings my lips.

 — You alright there? — A deep, velvety voice addresses me, and when I follow the sound, it’s the gorgeous man who made me burn my mouth.

 — Oh... I-I’m fine. — He just nods, looking at me intently, and holy shit, I might have dampened my panties and felt my clit throb stupidly just from a damn look.

The hottie joins a group of six men who walked in with him, all of them good-looking too, but none quite as much as him. Strangely, they seem to command a lot of respect here because all the chatter in the diner stops, replaced by an odd silence.

Léna drops off my order and heads over to their table, and I could swear I saw her kiss one of them. To avoid further embarrassment, I decide to focus on eating, heading back home, and doing what I actually came here to do. However, it’s hard to concentrate when I feel like I’m being watched, and that same sensation I felt earlier in the morning returns.

Even though I should be scared or worried—because it could very well be some damn psycho stalking me—I don’t feel anything close to fear or concern. It’s more like a sense of unease and yearning, as if I need to find someone or something.

[...]

I’m running down a deserted road, not knowing what was chasing me, but whatever it was, it filled me with fear. I couldn’t scream or call for help—it felt like my vocal cords had been ripped out. The more I ran, the more the road seemed endless. Just as I approached a village, the thing chasing me caught up, and I couldn’t break free because it was too strong. But before I could wake from this terrible nightmare, I heard a distant voice saying: He is your savior, your destined companion, and you are the chosen one to bring him peace.

I bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding frantically, and I still feel the grip of what caught me. The fear lingers, even though I know it was just a nightmare.

The silver light of the moon filters through the bedroom window, and I can’t believe I’ve only slept for a few hours—it feels like much longer. The last thing I remember was resting my head on the pillow after hours of typing, and I’m sure I went to bed quite late.

Sliding out of bed, I shiver, my mouth dry as cotton. I place the pillow back and slowly make my way down the hallway to the bathroom. With each step, I feel like I’m being watched, and for a moment, it terrifies me.

Peeling off my T-shirt, I shudder at the sensation of cold sweat trickling down my back. I let the shirt drop to the floor and step out of my jeans. I turn on the bathtub, letting cold water flow, and step in while still in my lingerie, gradually feeling my body calm down.

After spending nearly the entire day writing, using my nightmare as bizarre inspiration, I look for my best outfit in my suitcase. On a whim, I decide to visit the town’s bar—maybe a drink and some dancing will help me with the book and give me some much-needed fun.

Since the house I’m staying in isn’t far from town and there’s still some daylight left, I take a walk, enjoying my own company at the end of the day.

As soon as I enter the bar, I notice there aren’t many people—some older men are drinking beer and occasionally glancing at the waitress’s rear. There are only two young men at a table near the door, but they don’t seem particularly happy. An old country song plays over the speakers, the lighting is dim, and the place feels more like a funeral than a bar.

— What’ll it be, ma’am? — The old bartender asks as I sit on a stool in front of him.

— Hmmm… do you have Bombay Sapphire Gin? — He gives me a look as if I’ve spoken in another language, and I immediately hear someone laughing beside me.

— This isn’t New York. — That voice, I could never forget it. When I turn to confirm my suspicion, I find myself face-to-face with the handsome guy from the diner. — The fanciest drink you’ll find here is cheap bourbon.

— We don’t have that here, ma’am. — the bartender says, looking slightly embarrassed.

— That’s okay. — I smile. — I’ll have what he’s having.

The diner guy grins and raises an eyebrow. Moments later, the bartender hands me a cold bottle of beer. I take a sip and nearly spit it out—it’s the worst beer I’ve ever tasted! The guy must’ve noticed because he starts laughing at me again.

— Jesus! This is awful. — I grimace. — It tastes like kerosene and corn.

His laughter grows louder, and I can’t help but laugh along.

— Joe, get her that bourbon on the rocks. — he says to the bartender, still chuckling. — You’re funny, city girl.

I smile as Joe serves the woody-tasting drink, which, thank God, is much better.

— Hmm…

— Much better, right? — I nod.

— Why do you drink that beer?

— I learned to like it. — he shrugs. — So, are you just visiting?

— Actually, I’m here for work.

— Oh! — He feigns interest, smirking. — What kind of work brings you to this thrilling town?

— I’m a writer of fictional romance novels.

— So, you write porn? — I give him a smile.

— I’d call it beautiful porn. — He smiles back.

— I expected you to get mad at me.

— Why? — I take another sip of the bourbon.

— I thought calling your work porn would offend you somehow.

— Oh, not at all! It’s my job, and I love doing it.

— That’s interesting. — he says with a slightly lascivious grin. — What are you writing about now?

— A supernatural romance.

— Tell me more.

— No. — I smile. — You’ll have to wait to find out.

— Fair enough. — he grins and takes another sip of his beer. — By the way, what’s your name?

— Candace Turner. — I offer my hand. — And yours?

— Namjoon. — he says, shaking my hand.

We talk for a long time about random things, laughing quite a bit. I avoid personal topics—I don’t want to create any awkwardness with a guy I’ll likely never see again once I leave. I’ve also had too much bourbon—not enough to be drunk out of my mind, but just enough to feel light and a little sleepy.

— Well, I think I should get going.

— Do you need a ride? — I stare at him for a good minute. Damn, he’s gorgeous. — What?

— I’m trying to figure out if you’re a serial killer.

— Oh, yes, you caught me. Should I kill you now that you know my secret? — I laugh, but his intense gaze makes me blush.

— I’m staying in a house about 30 minutes from here. I can walk.

— No way! — He exclaims, standing up as I do. — Come on, I’ll give you a ride.

— Joe, should I trust him? — I ask the bartender, who’s wiping down glasses.

The old man smiles.

— Yes. Mr. Kim is a good guy.

— Mr. Kim? — I raise an eyebrow.

— I can answer your questions on the way. — Namjoon says.

As we leave the bar, Namjoon walks to a pickup truck parked right in front, opens the door for me, and climbs in after me.

— So, you own the nature reserve? — I ask as he starts the car.

— Not just me. It belongs to my family, too. — he says, focusing on the road. — It was my father’s wish that we all live together before he passed.”

— Oh, I’m sorry.

— It’s fine. It’s been a while. — he gives me a small smile and glances at me briefly.

Thirty minutes later, Namjoon parks in front of the house, staring at me. His gaze alternates between my lips and my eyes. If he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him, I’ll take the chance. If it’s all just my slightly drunken imagination, I’ll pretend it never happened.

— Go ahead. — I say, unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning closer.

That’s all it takes—he becomes the first guy with quick reflexes I’ve ever met, because seconds later, his soft lips are on mine, giving me the best kiss I’ve ever had.

His hands roam my hair and my waist, pulling me closer, and with a bit of sass on my part, I get out of my seat and jump onto his lap, running my fingers down his chest, tracing the ridge between his pectoral muscles and down over his nipple. He makes it sound like something you'd hear from an animal, deep and low in his throat, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

We're so desperate that we've made a point of skipping any foreplay, and soon his hand is hiking my dress up to my waist, just as he lets his cock out. He pushes my panties to the side, and when his fingers delve into my wet pussy, I hear him growl, literally, and it turns me on so much that I moan out loud.

It's primal, like he's a predator and I'm the prey. Except he's the one sitting on his back, and I'm the one straddling him, my knees on either side of his body. His bare cock, hot between my legs, and as I push down on his shaft, he groans my name.

— Candace…

He repeats the word again, and I don’t wait for him to say it a third time. I just guide him inside, eased by my wetness. I savor the feel of his thickness filling me. Riding him, skin to skin, his bare cock inside me, I fuck him. It feels familiar, like I’ve done this a million times before.

His hands slide up the sides of my waist, to my chest, and he cups my breasts, his thumbs stroking my hard nipples. I start to let go, letting go of the feeling of being with him, riding him as he turns me on and on.

I’m so close, and he grips my waist tightly, his hands pushing me down hard on his cock, his thrusts shorter and faster.

“Baby. — he says, his voice sensual. — I want you to cum for me..

— I'm on the edge, so close, about to cum. — I almost stutter as I say.

With a few more movements, I feel his cock swell, and when we both reach ecstasy, I can feel a fine pain in my shoulder. Namjoon had bitten me, maybe to keep me from moaning too loudly, but that doesn't bother me.

[...]

Nearly two days had passed since I arrived in Missoula, and after what happened at the diner and bar, I isolated myself in the house. Not because of him, but because the whole situation oddly gave me an unprecedented drive to write, and I can say I was very close to finishing my first book.

But today, I wanted to give myself a break, so I started looking up things to do or nearby restaurants to visit. That’s when I found a small town about thirty minutes from Missoula that, coincidentally, was hosting an event to celebrate something.

I decided to wear a red velvet skirt that reached mid-thigh, paired with black tights to keep my legs warm, a black turtleneck sweater, boots, and an elegant beret to add a French touch, even though I was in America. I grabbed everything I needed and headed to the little town to enjoy the event, maybe have some fun, and forget about the looming deadline for my book series, which I needed to deliver in less than a year.

The small town was called Wye, a place with few residents, and like Missoula, most of them were older folks with very few young people around. The event was called Hunting Day, as one of the locals explained to me. It’s a celebration where the townspeople gather for a large barbecue and party to honor their hunting spoils. Until I reached the display of their "spoils," I thought it would be buffalo or deer hunting, but no. There was a special area in the event where they showcased the animals they had hunted, which turned out to be massive wolves.

The story I’d read online about Montana wolves began to feel very real—they were enormous. People took photos, and some prayed, thanking God for protection from "demons," but I found the whole situation disgusting and brutal. Despite being dangerous animals, they didn’t deserve to be killed simply for being what they are. I distanced myself from the horror show and focused on eating the local foods, watching a few performances, and enjoying some live music.

At the end of the day, as night fell, I headed back to my car to return home and get back to writing. I had only a few days left in Missoula, and I couldn’t afford to waste more time. However, less than five minutes from Missoula, my car began to slow down until it stopped entirely on a dark road with no sign of life around. Though it was still early, Missoula was no New York City, so the chances of someone passing by anytime soon were slim. And to make things worse, it was a cold night, meaning even fewer people were likely to come by to help or give me a ride.

“No... no...” I murmured as the car stalled and I tried to start it again. “Come on...”

I tried to start it three times, and with my vast knowledge of cars, I concluded that the battery had died. I took out my phone, intending to call someone, but the “No Signal” message appeared, practically inviting me to swear up a storm. That’s what I got for coming to a place like this and wanting to stay off the grid.

Admittedly, walking down a dark road was far from ideal, but staying in the car until morning without a heater wasn’t an option either—I didn’t want to freeze to death. I got out of the car with only my bag and phone, locked it, and decided I’d call a tow truck or find a mechanic in the morning.

Using my phone’s flashlight to see the road, I began walking, the cold wind whipping my face. Within minutes, the unsettling feeling of being watched crept over me, soon accompanied by the sense that I was being followed. But this time, the sensations weren’t the same as before. These filled me with fear, and though I might have been overthinking, I started hearing footsteps mixed with the noises of some animal. That made me quicken my pace.

As I approached the sign indicating I was entering Missoula, something gray darted across my path, making me stop and hyperventilate from the cold. The growling grew louder, so I turned my phone’s flashlight toward where the creature had passed. And when the beam hit it, I froze.

It was an abomination—a mix of wolf and human, standing mere meters away from me. Its bared teeth were dripping with saliva, and its eyes glowed yellow. From the waist down, it had the body of an animal, but its face was monstrous. Its mouth protruded slightly, an incomplete transformation of its snout. It had enormous fangs, clawed hands, and light gray fur covering its skin.

The scream rising in my throat failed to escape, and I don’t know how, but I found the strength to drop my phone and run blindly into the forest. Maybe it was foolish to run since I’d be dinner one way or another, but at least I was trying to save myself. Was it too much to hope the half-wolf was old and too lazy to chase me? What a way to die, huh? Eaten by a wolf—or whatever that thing was—that, coincidentally, resembled the protagonist of my own book. Can you imagine the headlines? “Famous Writer Mauled by Wolf—Plot Twist Mirrors Her Lupine Romance Novel.”

My legs trembled and faltered, but I didn’t stop running. Branches scratched my skin, leaving marks as I heard the pounding of the wolf’s paws behind me. Each growl sent chills up my spine.

Death followed me, hunted me, wanted me. But it would not win. It could not.

I pushed my body to its limit, chest heaving as I ran. The wolf’s pursuit grew closer. I wasn’t an athlete with superhuman endurance, and every hurried step brought me closer to collapse. My lungs burned, and I desperately needed water.

Hope vanished when my left foot caught in a hole, sending me tumbling down a small slope. I rolled until my head struck a tree trunk, leaving me dazed and in agony. My whole body ached as I began to cry—not just from the pain but because I knew I was going to die a horrible, tragic death. My parents would be devastated. Quinne would grieve for days, and my true fans would flood Twitter with mourning hashtags, demanding justice for the wolves.

The gray wolf stood at the top of the incline where I lay. The scent of my blood made its nostrils flare as it licked its sharp teeth. I tried to stay still, not wanting to provoke it. It growled loudly and crouched, ready to attack.

This is it, I thought, closing my eyes and bracing for the pain of those teeth tearing into me. But it never came.

Daring to open my eyes, I saw a white wolf leap onto the gray one. As if one wolf wasn’t terrifying enough, now there were two, fighting to decide who would eat me first.

The gray wolf whimpered in pain as the white one sank its massive fangs into its flesh. Despite its best efforts, the gray wolf was no match for the larger, stronger white wolf, a complete creature, not a half-human hybrid. The final blow came as the white wolf delivered a savage, brutal bite to the gray wolf’s jugular. I watched blood gush out, staining the white wolf’s fur and making it appear even more menacing.

As the white wolf dropped the lifeless body, it began approaching me gracefully. With each step, it transformed, shifting into a stunningly handsome human figure. Maybe I was delirious from pain and fear, but his muscular, blood-streaked body was mesmerizing.

☪The White Wolf - Kim Namjoon 🐺 | mainlist

Synopsis: Candace Turner is a famous romance writer, but she's struggling with writer's block and can't seem to produce another hit. With pressure from her fans and publisher, Candace feels lost. But during a night of heavy drinking, Candace posts something on her social media that leaves her fans thinking a new book is coming, and the post is full of wolf and heart emojis. Now, to fix the mess she's created, Candace has to write the book, but to do that, she temporarily moves to a small town in Montana in search of inspiration for the wolf-themed romance. What Candace doesn't know is that she's about to experience one for real... with a real wolf.

She’s human. He’s an alpha wolf. There’s a wolf hunter on the loose. Let the hunt begin.

✾ Genre | Paranormal romance, with influences of mystery, action, and fantasy. 

▲ Warning | Suggestion of explicit sex, inappropriate language, and mention of blood and violence. If you are sensitive to this type of content, PLEASE DO NOT READ. And it will be in only 3 parts.

"English is not my first language, so there may be errors, and I apologize in advance for that. I am open to any advice regarding the language. The story is also available in Portuguese in my profile on Spirit. "

Chapter One — The Hunt

Chapter Two - The Revelation

2469 words | mainlist

The phone rings, and Yoongi, with an impassive expression, shifts his gaze away from the completely naked woman lying next to him. She, in a state of discomfort, still tries to catch his attention with a thin voice full of questions. But none of that matters. He ignores her inquiries, getting out of bed with a determined movement, as if an invisible weight had settled on his shoulders.

He hadn’t planned on leaving, not under these circumstances. Lauren meant nothing more than another ally, another piece in his game. But, when the sharp worry in her voice cuts through the phone, something inside Yoongi stirs. Something he had never experienced before: the instinctive and almost fierce desire to protect.

Without thinking twice, he orders his men to prepare. Within minutes, he’s on his way. What’s even stranger is that, as he drives toward Lauren, Yoongi feels a growing weight, as if he were entering unfamiliar territory. Every turn of the car seems to take him deeper, until he can no longer distinguish what is rational and what is instinct. Something pulls him, something challenges him to go further. And he knows: this could take him to the limit. When Yoongi arrives at the veterinary clinic, the air is tense. He gets out of the car, followed by his men — Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung, his trusted soldiers. Three of his other men stay on guard outside, vigilant, as Yoongi moves forward with his three brothers.

Soon, he sees Lauren, talking to a woman with colored hair and a distant expression. The woman wears a lab coat with the emblem of "surgeon." The conversation between them seems uncomfortable, almost artificial, but Yoongi pays no attention to it. When the woman notices his presence, she hesitates, and Lauren, looking back, finds Yoongi. A relief, almost palpable, spreads across her face.

Yoongi watches it all with cold calmness. He doesn’t know why, but seeing her in that state makes him feel something strange. Something he can’t even name. He approaches, waiting for Lauren to finish talking. The woman with colored hair exchanges a quick look with him and then steps away. Yoongi, unhurried, watches, but his focus is on Lauren. He simply observes as she pulls away from the conversation and walks toward him, her eyes red from exhaustion.

— How is she? — he asks, and Lauren’s voice falters for a moment. When she speaks, sadness overflows.

— The doctor said she had a broken hind leg with an exposed fracture. She underwent emergency surgery... She’ll stay here for a few more days until the medication takes effect. — Lauren shakes her head, trying to hold back tears.

Yoongi merely nods, offering no further details. He looks at her, noticing how fragile she seems in that moment. He feels an uncontrollable need to protect her, but he knows that, in this world, he cannot show weakness.

— What are you doing here? — Lauren asks, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and anxiety.

Yoongi feigns indifference, but the lie slips from his lips easily:

— I needed to see the note in person.

Although it wasn’t a complete lie, he knew he could have sent one of his men to retrieve it. But, for some reason, he wanted to be there. By her side. To feel the urgency, the panic. Maybe even a bit of fear. And, without understanding it, he realizes that, more and more, he cannot stay away.

Lauren goes to her armchair, grabs her purse, and searches for the piece of paper. When she hands it over, something furry brushes between Yoongi’s legs. He looks down, surprised. It was Lauren’s gray cat, Autumn. He recognizes the animal from the photograph, but what really catches his attention is the cat’s behavior. It rubs against Yoongi in a affectionate way, something that surprises Lauren, considering how disgusting and fearful her pet is.

Lauren picks up the cat, visibly taken aback.

— Sorry. He doesn’t do that with everyone. — she says, trying to explain, but Yoongi only watches the paper now in his hands.

He feels the texture of the note, the neat and neutral handwriting, without embellishments. But, looking closer, he knows exactly who it’s from. It wasn’t someone easy to ignore.

— Jimin. — Yoongi calls his ally closer, his gaze fixed on the note. — I need the footage of Lauren’s building while she was away. We’ll find out who did this.

Lauren nods, still a bit in shock, and Yoongi watches her more closely.

— It’s not safe for you to go back to your apartment, Lauren.

She stares at him, surprised by the determination in his voice.

— I can stay in a local hotel until things calm down.

— No. You’ll stay where my mafia is. — He makes the statement with a definitive tone, almost like an order.

— And my things?

Yoongi tilts his head.

— One of my men will go over and pick them up. Don’t worry about that. But Snow... She still needs more care, right?

Lauren feels a tightness in her chest thinking about the cat, but Yoongi interrupts her quickly.

— I’ll make sure one of my men is guarding her here.

He watches her, and something within Lauren softens. Contrary to everything she imagined about him, Yoongi now seemed, somehow, more human. And at the same time, more dangerous.

He accompanies her to the car, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Lauren, as she gets in the car, feels the weight of the shadows drawing closer. Something deep and undefined keeps her eyes locked on him.

But she also feels the strength of something new. Something that might be riskier than any war.

The ride continues in complete silence until a small building away from the center, which isn’t as luxurious for people with as much money as Yoongi’s mafia. The building seems like a façade, designed not to attract enemies and make it difficult for the location to be found.

As soon as Lauren enters behind Yoongi, they head to the elevator and go up to the fifth and top floor. When they step out of the elevator, they find Namjoon and his wife, Mia, along with Jung Hoseok, Jin, and his wife, Eun-yu, waiting for them. Namjoon pulls Yoongi aside to talk about what happened and what he discovered in the meantime.

Namjoon’s wife approaches Lauren, who remains standing outside the elevator, motionless. Autumn takes an aggressive stance, growling and showing its claws.

Mia smiles and says:

— Calm down there, little furball. I’m not going to hurt your mother.

Lauren apologizes and pets Autumn to calm him down, saying:

— Sorry, he’s not very friendly. And well, your companion isn’t well, and I think he saw everything. He must be stressed.

Lauren tends to talk too much when she’s nervous. Jungkook, who is nearby with his hands in his pockets, says in Korean to those around:

— He likes Hyung.

Jimin agrees, smiling, but Lauren doesn’t understand any of what they’re saying and stays silent. Mia ignores the boys and turns to Lauren:

— Come, dear. There’s a room for you.

Lauren follows Mia, but feels Yoongi’s eyes on her.

As soon as Lauren enters the room, she closes the door, places Autumn on the floor, and the cat starts meowing and rubbing against her legs.

— Yeah, I know. I’m scared too, but our Snow will be fine, and I’m going to make the son of a bitch who did this pay.

Lauren doesn’t like violence, but after what happened to her cat, she starts thinking of a thousand different ways to make the person who hurt Snow suffer. She can’t wait to bring her things and ends up falling asleep.

[...]

Lauren is woken up by the touch of her cellphone. It's almost dawn, but it's still somewhat dark, and it looks like it will be a cloudy day. She fumbles around looking for the device, and as soon as she finds it, she answers in a hurry, thinking it might be the doctor who's taking care of Snow.

Mark’s voice sounds in her ear, sweet and soft, but the first thing Lauren says is:

— Where are you? Where is your dad? Everything is a mess here, and they’re seeing me as a traitor and a suspect! You guys abandoned me!

Mark responds, trying to calm her down:

— Hey, kitten, we didn’t abandon you, we just couldn’t talk to you. By the way, where are you? I’m here at the apartment, I rang several times and you didn’t answer. Not even those pests meowed.

Lauren rolls her eyes, knowing that Mark never liked her cats, always referring to them with ugly and disrespectful names.

— I’m hiding with Jeongyeon-pa because they hurt Snow and called me a traitor. Do you know anything about this?

Mark responds, showing no concern:

— No, kitten. We have nothing to do with these fights Jeongyeon-pa has been causing lately. They must be crazy for losing territory.

Lauren furrows her brow, confused:

— What do you mean?

Mark tries to change the subject:

— Forget all that, it has nothing to do with us.

Lauren, more frustrated, retorts:

— How doesn’t it? They searched the whole company!

Mark tries to reassure her:

— Baby, don’t worry, everything’s under control. Now tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.

Lauren looks around the room, searching for an answer. She notices some of her bags scattered, Autumn's litter box, and her cats’ food and water bowls. Mark, impatient, asks again:

— Lauren? Where are you?

She hesitates, still not sure if she can fully trust him:

— I don’t know if I can say.

Mark tries to convince Lauren to trust him:

— Lauren, I’m also part of this mafia, it’s okay to tell me. Jeoseung Saja knows me.

Lauren is surprised:

— Who?

Mark responds with a smile in his voice:

— It’s his name on the streets, baby, we all have one. Now tell me your location, and I’ll come get you.

Lauren, still suspicious, asks:

— Promise?

Mark, firmly:

— Of course, yes, baby.

She, still cautious, questions:

— You’re not using, are you?

Mark smiles, trying to reassure her:

— I’m clean.

Lauren finally decides to give in:

— Okay, I’ll send it to you.

Lauren sends the location to Mark without any bad intention, unaware that he, along with his father, was involved with the Yakuza. She hates having a soft heart that believes in Mark every time, but despite this, he and his father are the only family she has. Although she feels safe where she is, Lauren doesn’t feel comfortable or welcomed. She knows she’s an outsider in that environment, someone everyone is suspicious of.

She spends the day working in the apartment's room, not leaving except to eat and quickly return. Meanwhile, she exchanges messages with the doctor taking care of Snow, who sends her good news: the cat is improving with the medications and is already eating. The doctor even sends a video of Snow, which makes Lauren cry with relief and joy.

But, while working, Lauren continues texting Mark, asking when he would come to get her, but he doesn’t reply, which deeply irritates her. Around eleven at night, she tries calling him, but the call goes to voicemail. She needs to leave the room; she’s starving, and the silence of the place only increases her anxiety.

When Lauren can’t take it anymore, she puts on her slippers and sneaks out through the hallway. The building is quiet, except for the distant sound of a conversation downstairs. She deduces that everyone must be there, and since the building is old, she can hear practically everything at night. She was wearing a ridiculous pajama with a kitten print, but she decides that if she’s quick enough to the kitchen, no one will find her like this.

She walks quickly to the kitchen at the end of the hallway, grabs a can of soda and some snacks. She knows it’s not a healthy meal, but she doesn’t have much time. Back in the room, she eats quickly and goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth before going to sleep. But, as soon as she turns on the light, the sound of gunshots and screams echoes through the building, and panic overtakes Lauren. She freezes, not knowing what to do.

Lauren looks for Autumn, who is probably hiding, and finds him under the bed. When she tries to pull him out of his “safe place,” he tries to scratch her hand, but she manages to grab him. Holding the cat in her arms, Lauren heads to the window and considers using the fire escape outside the building. However, part of the ladder is broken, and she’s on the fifth floor. With few options, she decides to hide in the bathroom, but before she can take a step, two men enter the room, followed by Jungkook, who shouts at her to follow him quickly.

Still holding Autumn tightly, Lauren runs toward Jungkook, who leads her to the kitchen, where other mafia members are gathered. When Lauren notices that some of them are positioning themselves behind the refrigerator, she realizes it’s a secret passage. She doesn’t see Yoongi, but decides to follow Mia, who is already entering the passage. The place is narrow, smelly, and dark. They go down a small staircase in complete silence, the only beams of light coming from holes in the wall next to them. The sound of gunshots grows louder as they continue to descend.

As soon as they reach the ground floor, they exit in pairs, running toward the outside. Mia looks at Lauren and says firmly:

— You’re coming with me.

Lauren can only nod, holding Autumn tightly. The cat, still scared, keeps biting her hand, trying to escape. Mia instructs, without hesitation:

— Don’t look to the sides, just run with me, understood?

Lauren, with a tight feeling in her chest, nods again, without words, and follows Mia through the chaos, not looking back.

As Mia and the others keep running, Lauren can’t follow one of the main rules: not looking to the sides. Curious and terrified, she turns her eyes, and what she sees paralyzes her. The chaos surrounds her: bodies lying down, blood spread out, and an inexpressible terror in the air. Her legs weaken, but she stands firm, forcing her body to continue, until she manages to get into a car that takes her away. The vehicle speeds off quickly, the tires screeching on the asphalt as they follow the road.

They drive for more than an hour until they reach a house on a farm that looks abandoned. But as the car approaches, Lauren sees heavily armed men approaching, vigilant, ready to protect the place. The car stops abruptly, and, looking out the window, Lauren sees a couple in front of her: Namjoon and his wife. They exchange a kiss and sweet words, relieved to finally be safe, but the relief is short-lived.

Namjoon’s wife turns around and asks, with a tense expression:

— What the hell happened today?

Namjoon, visibly tense, responds coldly and sharply, making all of Lauren’s muscles tighten:

— Someone gave away where we were. Yoongi is going to skin the son of a bitch who gave our location to the Yakuza.

The tension in the air is palpable, and Lauren’s fear only increases as she tries to process the words she just heard.

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The dry click of the keyboard echoes in the silent office as Yoongi reads the email. His brows knit into a hard line as his eyes meticulously scan each word. John, the man handling Lexington's dirty operations, is apparently involved with the Yakuza. The betrayal cuts deep, but the fury burning within him is even more intense.

Yoongi wastes no time. He doesn't inform Lauren or ask for clarifications. After all, she probably doesn't know shit. But that doesn't matter right now. He's too pissed to deal with her at the moment.

[...]

Back at the hotel where he and his allies are staying, Yoongi calls for an urgent meeting. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, and everyone is tense, sensing the seriousness of the situation.

— John is involved. — Yoongi states, his voice low and controlled. But his eyes? Burning. — He diverted money and shipments to the Yakuza. This is more than betrayal. It's a fucking declaration of war.

Namjoon, the calm strategist, asks:

— And Lauren? Is she involved?

— Doesn't seem like it. — Yoongi replies with a curt nod. — But until we're sure, no one is above suspicion.

The group murmurs in agreement. He finishes with a warning:

— Be careful. Anyone could be the next traitor.

At the end of the meeting, Yoongi issues another order.

— I want Lauren Lexington's number. We need to talk.

[...]

Lauren, on the other hand, is restless in her office. She noticed Yoongi's absence upon her return and can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. The memory of the email she asked him to check makes her shiver. Although it seemed like a routine notice, Lauren knows mafia messages are often cryptic, with codes only the right recipients can decipher.

She tries to focus on work, but her thoughts keep returning to Yoongi. He's an intense presence, someone she shouldn't want near, but somehow stirs deep and conflicting feelings within her.

Later, Lauren tries to call Mark again. As always, the call goes to voicemail. She huffs, frustrated. They've known each other forever; Mark was her first boyfriend and, in a way, she thought he'd be her last. But he's always been complicated, toxic, and his promises to change never materialized. His cocaine addiction and constant absences weigh heavily on her.

When she finally decides to return to work, the phone rings. She answers quickly, expecting to hear Mark.

— Mark? — her voice is almost hopeful.

— Not exactly. — Yoongi responds, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Lauren straightens her posture, her face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

— What do you want?

Yoongi chuckles. She can hear it, the low and rough sound making her shiver.

— We need to talk about John.

She explains John's history with her father and how he took over the company's "dirty tasks" after her father's death. Yoongi, for a moment, hesitates to reveal the betrayal, something that even surprises himself. In the end, he merely says he needs to investigate something related to John's operations.

— And Mark? Who is he?

Lauren takes a deep breath and answers:

— He's John's only son. And before you ask, yes, he works here too.

— Doing what?

— John had him handle deals because he's always been good at convincing people.

— Do you and he have a relationship?

Lauren hesitated to respond because, honestly, she didn't know if she and Mark were anything at this point.

— Yes, but it's complicated.

Yoongi takes his time to respond, but before hanging up, he warns:

— Save my number. And stay alert, Lauren. Enemies are awake and hungry.

She tries to ignore the weight of his words, but she feels the gravity of his warning.

[...]

Later, when Lauren arrives at her apartment, it's already past seven in the evening. The night air carries a light breeze, but the sense that something is wrong lingers even before she reaches the door. As she inserts the key into the lock, she notices no resistance—the door is unlocked.

Her heart races. Yoongi's words echo in her mind like an alarm: "Stay alert, Lauren. Enemies are awake and hungry."

She takes a deep breath, trying to suppress the panic threatening to overwhelm her. With trembling hands, she reaches into her bag and grabs her pepper spray. An impulse makes her peek through the small gap as she opens the door slowly, but she sees nothing beyond the darkness of the hallway.

As she pushes the door open, a metallic smell invades her nostrils. Her stomach churns, and the sight before her momentarily halts her world. The floor is stained red. Blood.

Lauren holds her breath and follows the trail with her eyes, each step echoing in the funeral silence. The trail leads her to the corner of the living room, where she sees Snow, her angora cat, lying on the floor, her white fur tinged with red. The small creature is injured, emitting a faint, irregular sound.

— Oh, my God! No... no... — Lauren's voice falters, and she collapses to her knees beside Snow, tears streaming down her face. With trembling hands, she touches the cat's fur, feeling the fragile warmth still lingering in her body.

Lauren quickly runs to her bedroom for something to help. Upon opening the door, another shock hits her: Autumn, her other cat, is hiding in the wardrobe, his eyes wide with fear. He's unharmed, but his behavior reveals the terror he witnessed.

— It's okay, baby. Mommy's here. — Lauren whispers, picking up Autumn in her arms.

Back in the living room, Lauren improvises with a cloth to stop Snow's bleeding. Her body trembles as she tries to stay calm. Every second feels like an eternity, but she knows she can't waste time.

Carrying both cats carefully, Lauren rushes to the car, her heart pounding erratically. The silence of the night now feels oppressive, and she can't help but look back at every step, fearing someone might be watching her.

Inside the car, as she drives toward the nearest vet, Lauren can't shake the question hammering in her mind: Who did this? And why?

[...]

While waiting in the reception area, the seconds drag on, each tick of the clock on the wall a cruel reminder of her helplessness. Autumn, nestled in her arms, meows softly, as if sensing the anguish consuming Lauren. She runs her fingers through his soft fur, seeking comfort in the animal's warmth, but the tension in her chest is suffocating.

The scene of Snow, bloodied on the floor, replays in her mind with brutal clarity. The question echoes repeatedly: Who could do something so cruel? Guilt and fear intertwine, forming a knot in her throat. Lauren squeezes her eyes shut to hold back tears, but they insist on falling.

It's then that she notices something on Autumn's collar. A protrusion that shouldn't be there. With trembling fingers, she pulls out the object attached. A piece of paper, folded with disturbing precision. She unfolds it slowly, as if afraid the words might jump out and attack her.

"Traitor. What's coming will be much worse."

The words scream from the paper, raw and threatening. The air seems sucked out of the room, and her heart races so fast it makes her feel nauseous. Who wrote this? How did they know where to find her? The feeling of being watched makes her look around quickly, but the reception area is empty except for a distracted attendant.

Without thinking, Lauren grabs her phone. Her fingers hesitate for just a moment before dialing Yoongi's number. The call is answered on the third ring, his deep, gravelly voice an anchor amidst the chaos.

— What happened? — he asks, direct, as if already sensing the weight in her breathing.

— I... need protection. — Lauren says, surprising even herself. The words escape before she can pull them back. The pride she had so carefully built over the years feels irrelevant now. She feels like she's being dragged into something bigger and more dangerous than she ever imagined.

Yoongi remains silent for a moment, but when he speaks, his voice carries a cutting firmness:

— What happened, Lauren?

Lauren tries to respond, but the words catch in her throat. The knot she felt earlier now seems impossible to untangle, and before she realizes it, tears begin to fall uncontrollably.

— They hurt my cat... — she says between sobs, the words coming out broken. — And... and left a note.

— What note? — Yoongi presses, but his tone remains calm, as if knowing that pushing her would only make things worse.

She takes a deep breath, trying to contain the crying, but her voice still trembles.

— They called me a traitor and said what's coming will be worse.

On the other end of the line, Yoongi remains silent for a few seconds, but she knows he's processing every detail with ruthless precision. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, laden with an authority that sends a shiver down her spine.

— Listen, Lauren. Send me your location now. I'll send some of my men immediately.

— What? You don't have to... — she starts to say, but he cuts her off firmly. 

— It's not optional, damn it! Do it now!

The command in his voice makes her stop. For a moment, Lauren feels a mix of relief and panic. She hesitates but quickly realizes he's right. Trembling, she opens the app on her phone and sends her location.

— Done... sent it.

She hangs up, her hands still trembling, holding Autumn against her chest as if he were her only anchor in this sea of chaos. Even with Yoongi's promise, Lauren knows she's far from safe. The fear and adrenaline don't subside, but amidst it all, she feels something unexpected: a strange sense of trust.

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Yoongi stepped through the hotel doors, the weight of his presence making the air hum with tension. The lobby, usually a place of welcome, was charged with an almost tangible unease. The eyes that turned toward him held a mixture of emotions: admiration, fear, and for some, suspicion. He knew that from this moment on, his life was on the line.

As soon as he entered the meeting room, he found several of his associates, their expressions ranging from concern to hostility. One of them, a gray-haired man, stood, his voice trembling.

— Yoongi, the situation is unsustainable. We're not receiving the full shipments, and our payments are either delayed or missing entirely.

The murmurs of discontent grew louder as the others voiced their agreement. Some already saw him as a traitor, and the prospect of an internal rebellion hung in the air like a storm about to break.

Yoongi took a deep breath, feeling the tension build in his chest. He knew trust was a scarce resource, and the room was splitting apart.

— Where is Kwon Hae-hyo?— asked Jungkook, one of Yoongi's brothers, his tone serious and concerned.

— No one's been able to reach him. — said one of the Chicago associates.

— The reports he's been sending you don't add up. — Seokjin added. — Hoseok found conflicting information.

A heavy silence fell over the room. Yoongi frowned, recalling how Kwon had always seemed to have everything under control. Now, the trust he'd placed in the man was beginning to waver.

— This doesn't make sense. — Yoongi replied, frustration creeping into his voice. — He told me everything was fine here.

The tension escalated as the meeting progressed. Reports of clashes between his loyalists and those who had turned against him began to surface. The words "danger" and "betrayal" echoed in the room, and Yoongi felt a wave of frustration and helplessness.

— We need to act quickly. — Namjoon insisted, his gaze fixed on Yoongi. — Neither we nor you are safe here in New York. Things are changing.

At last, the meeting concluded, but the sense of insecurity lingered. Yoongi rose, his brothers and their girlfriends accompanying him, seeking a brief moment of normalcy before the looming confrontation. Mia, Namjoon's wife, a sharp and observant woman, gave Yoongi a significant look.

Mia Kim was an American police officer who had devoted her life to working undercover in the mafia. However, her world took an unexpected turn when she fell in love with Kim Namjoon. Their love blossomed amidst the chaos, especially after Namjoon saved her from a tragic fate when her own squad threatened to kill her. Leaving her old life behind, Mia decided to give herself completely to this new love, finding both safety and passion in Namjoon's arms.

— I spent the day watching Lauren from a distance. Strangely, she doesn't seem to know anything. By now, she should be terrified knowing the mafia boss is in town. Don't let her fool you. Go easy during the interrogation; you know your reputation as an insane bastard precedes you.

Yoongi gave a faint smile and nodded, her words echoing as a warning in his mind. He knew he needed to stay calm, but anxiety was already gnawing at his resolve.

After dinner, he headed toward the warehouse, his heart pounding faster with each step. Upon entering, he found Lauren surrounded by his men, her posture defiant. The pepper spray she held in her hand brought an involuntary smile to his face. There was something amusing about her attempt to defend herself, though he knew better than to underestimate the situation.

She was stunning in a black dress that provocatively accentuated her curves. Her voluminous red hair was styled in an elegant bun, and the high heels she wore added to her air of confidence. To Yoongi, the combination was an absolute turn-on.

When his men forced her to sit down, Lauren felt a chill in her stomach as a man approached, lighting a cigarette. He was tall, with jet-black hair falling casually to his neck, slicked back effortlessly. Tattoos peeked from the collar of his button-up shirt, and a dragon design adorned his left hand. Lauren was certain more tattoos were hidden beneath his clothes. As he drew closer, she noticed a scar starting just below one of his eyebrows and stretching down to his cheekbone. The moment was intense; he stood before her in all his dark glory, his presence both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Yoongi took a slow drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke linger in the air before crouching to her level. He exhaled the smoke directly into her face. Lauren gasped, her eyes wide as she tried to process the reality before her.

— What do you want from me? — she managed to ask, her voice hesitant.

— A little bird told me you've been fucking with my business. — he said, his words icy and sharp. A shiver ran down Lauren's spine.

Lauren, still trying to comprehend the situation, froze as the realization dawned on her—she was face-to-face with the boss of the Jeongyeon-pa mafia, the most feared man in the city. Panic began to rise within her, and she started to hyperventilate.

— John handles everything. — Lauren stammered, her voice trembling. — He said everything was fine. I don't know anything.

Yoongi chuckled, a dry laugh that echoed through the warehouse.

— That's a classic excuse for someone who's lying. — he said, leaning closer, his piercing gaze fixed on her. — Speak up, damn it! What's going on? — he demanded, his voice leaving no room for defiance. Lauren fought to hold back tears.

— I swear I don't know anything! — she pleaded, her voice almost breaking.

Yoongi pulled a pocketknife from his pocket, his expression calm and cold. He dropped the cigarette onto the warehouse floor, the motion making Lauren's body tremble.

— Please, don't hurt me! — she cried, desperation lacing her voice. — I'm telling the truth. I'll do anything to help you.

He studied her closely, searching for any hint of deceit. His gaze then shifted to Namjoon, standing in the corner of the warehouse, who gave a subtle nod to confirm the truth of Lauren's words.

— Get ready. — Yoongi said, leaning in closer, his deep voice sending shivers down Lauren's spine. — Tomorrow morning, you're going to start getting your hands dirty. I want to see every document from your company and meet this John.

Lauren couldn't respond, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. She nodded, her voice caught in her throat.

— I need to hear you say you understand, sweetheart. — Yoongi pressed, an ironic smirk playing on his lips.

With a trembling voice, she replied:

— I... I understand.

Yoongi gestured for his men to let her go, but not before giving a final order.

— Take her to her apartment.

When Lauren finally crossed the threshold of her home, a wave of emotions overwhelmed her. She collapsed onto the sofa, tears streaming down her face. Fear of what lay ahead consumed her, and the uncertainties loomed over her like dark clouds, threatening to unleash a storm at any moment.

[...]

Lauren spends the night wide awake, reflecting on how to face Yoongi after everything that happened earlier that evening. Curled up in her bed, still dressed in an elegant gown, she clings to her cats, seeking comfort and solace. She calls Mark, her almost-fiancé, multiple times, but he doesn't answer any of her calls. Not knowing where John has gone makes her even more anxious, as she hasn't disclosed this detail to Yoongi.

She had never thought of Yoongi as such a handsome and attractive man; though he almost makes her heart stop, Lauren finds herself absurdly drawn to him. When she finally manages to get some rest, her alarm blares loudly, filling her with a sense of sadness. She gets up and heads straight to the shower, preparing for the day as usual. She chooses a formal outfit: a white silk blouse and a black pencil skirt that accentuates her curves. She has a quick breakfast, her nerves making it hard to eat, and feeds her cats before leaving.

When Lauren arrives at the company, she spends a long time sitting in her car, summoning the courage to step out and face what promises to be a challenging day. She entertains the idea of grabbing her cats and fleeing far away but knows it would only be an attempt to escape reality. Even if she tried, Yoongi would find her anywhere in the world.

As soon as she enters the company, she's greeted by employees offering smiles and cheerful "good morning" wishes. Despite being the CEO, Lauren is known for her kindness toward her staff, an uncommon trait in companies of that magnitude. She tries hard not to let her nervousness show, as not everyone knows about the delicate matters her company handles besides exports and imports. Those with tense expressions are the ones aware of the immense pressure they face.

With each step Lauren takes toward her office, a tightness grows in her chest, making it hard to breathe. When she finally closes the door behind her, she leans her forehead against it, trying to steady her breathing.

— You've got one hell of a view from here. — says a deep voice that shatters her fragile calm. Turning around, Lauren sees Yoongi standing by her desk, gazing out at the city through the glass walls.

— Who let you in? — Lauren demands firmly, determined not to appear vulnerable like the night before.

Yoongi turns his gaze to her, smirking.

— Your secretary doesn't handle pressure well. — he says, his eyes wandering over her figure. She looks even more stunning than yesterday. The pencil skirt, revealing just a hint of her toned legs paired with those heels, nearly makes Yoongi lose his predator's composure. — He's probably still in the bathroom, scared out of his wits.

— You mean 'threatened,' don't you?— Lauren raises an eyebrow, noticing Yoongi's amusement at her display of defiance.

He shrugs. 

— Call it what you want.

Lauren places her bag on the sofa by the door and moves toward her desk, heading straight to her computer, determined to ignore Yoongi's imposing presence.

— As I mentioned last night, John handles the company's... complex issues. — she stammers slightly, noting Yoongi's grin at her choice of words. Lauren knows this bastard could put a bullet in her head if she slipped up, yet she can't deny that he's the kind of trouble she'd gladly indulge in. She suppresses that thought, reminding herself of Mark and what Yoongi truly is. — John is currently away, and honestly, I don't know where he is.

Min Yoongi frowns, noting the situation mirrors that of Kwon Hae-hyo, whose whereabouts also remain unknown.

— But I have access to all his dealings so far. — Lauren adds, typing on her computer. Yoongi stands close but keeps his distance, observing her.

— Can I ask you a question? — Yoongi breaks the silence after a few minutes, filled only with the sound of Lauren typing.

— Yes. — she responds without looking at him, opening several files for him to review.

— Why didn't you take on the responsibilities your father left you?

— I did. — she replies, skimming through emails sent and received by John.

— You know what I mean.

Lauren shifts her gaze from the screen to Yoongi. His opaque green eyes almost make him sigh. Her fair skin and freckles scattered across her face make him imagine how stunning she must look without any clothes. It's strange for Yoongi to feel and think this way about Lauren. Not that he's a saint—far from it—but he's never analyzed a woman the way he's analyzing her now.

— That's none of your business. — she replies coldly.

Lauren has a dark reason for refusing to deal with the dirty side of the company. Years ago, her best friend, Sofia, became a tragic victim of this shadowy world. Sofia was the only one who knew Lauren's vulnerable side. They shared laughter, secrets, and dreams of freedom, away from the mafia's shadows. However, her father's relentless enemies targeted Sofia. One day, while Lauren was in her room reading, her father came to inform her that Sofia had been killed on her way home by one of his enemies. The news devastated Lauren. The murder was brutal and merciless—a clear warning that this world spared no one, not even the uninvolved.

Years later, the grief still weighed on Lauren, transforming her sadness into determination. She decided she could no longer handle the dirty work of her father's company, fearing that someone else she loved might be killed.

Yoongi doesn't press the matter, sensing there's a deeper reason behind her response. Despite being ruthless, he respects those who deserve it, and besides, he has no time for this now.

Lauren spends a few more minutes at her computer, reading a recent email John sent to an unknown recipient. The message appears encrypted or otherwise complicated to understand.

— Here. — Lauren steps aside, giving Yoongi access to the computer. — Everything John has done is there.

Yoongi grips the back of the chair to pull it closer, brushing his fingers against Lauren's. Both feel a shiver run through them.

— I need to check on something with David. — she says, picking up her bag. — Feel free to dig through my records and prove I have nothing to do with this mess.

Lauren delivers the statement as plainly as she can, but inside, she's on the verge of fleeing, overwhelmed by Yoongi's intensely intimidating gaze.

— And you should take a look at that open email. — Lauren adds, holding the door open as she glances back at him. — The message is... odd.

Yoongi remains silent. Naturally reserved, Lauren has left him utterly speechless since he first laid eyes on her. He knows this woman will rob him of his sleep and give him one hell of a headache.

When Yoongi finally turns his attention to the email Lauren pointed out, his blood boils. If he were a bomb, he'd have exploded on the spot. That bastard John has been exchanging emails with Takeshi Nakamura, the son and successor of the Japanese mafia—one of Yoongi's primary enemies. John is diverting part of Yoongi's shipments and laundering money for those Yakuza scumbags.

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Lauren Lexington

I glanced at the clock on the wall of my office. The minute hand seemed to spin faster and faster, while my stress only grew. The morning had been a whirlwind of meetings, reports, and negotiations. As the CEO of Lexington Corporation, my life was a sea of tasks and deadlines, and I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I never imagined being a CEO would be this overwhelming," I thought, trying to take a deep breath to calm my nerves. The weight of responsibility bore down on my shoulders like an invisible burden. When my father passed away, and I took over the company at 21, I knew I wasn't inheriting a clean empire. Lexington Corporation had its façade as an international export and import company, but what lay beneath was far darker: weapons and slot machines being smuggled into the United States.

My father taught me everything about the business world, and the truth is, he was far from clean. I knew what kept the company running involved much more than legitimate exports and imports of common goods. I accepted continuing my father's work, even knowing about the dirt involved, simply because it was the only way to preserve his legacy and keep the business in order. To make matters worse, I left John Ackles, the Co-CEO, to handle the dirtiest aspects. He had been my father's right-hand man, with an efficient, if not particularly ethical, way of managing the messes the business often created.

That's why I was deeply unsettled when David, one of John's secretaries, entered my office with a look of genuine concern. He seemed nervous, which only increased my apprehension.

— Ms. Lexington, I need to talk to you about something urgent. — David began, his voice filled with tension.

— What happened? — I asked, trying to stay calm.

— Mr. Ackles is not in his office, and no one knows where he is. He left without notice, and honestly, I don't know what to do.

— That's strange. John has never disappeared without leaving word.— My mind started racing with possibilities. His disappearance didn't make sense, and I was beginning to worry. — And what about the businessman? Wasn't he here to meet with Mr. Ackles?

— Yes, he was. But since John is missing, you'll have to attend the meeting yourself.

The feeling that something was about to go wrong was always present. It was a familiar sensation.

My heart began to race. Even though I knew all the dark intricacies of the business, I disliked being directly involved in those matters. I was always afraid of the violence that accompanied such dealings. However, I knew refusing the meeting could harm our dealings with the mafia, and that was something I couldn't allow. My father taught me the rules, and many of them came with severe consequences if not followed to the letter.

— All right, I'll meet with him. — I confirmed, trying to hide the apprehension in my tone.

[...]

When I arrived at the meeting point, I expected to find a fancy restaurant—something befitting the status of the businessman waiting to meet me. I was dressed in an elegant black dress and high heels, which seemed like the perfect choice for the occasion. However, instead of a sophisticated restaurant, the black car that brought me was heading toward an industrial warehouse, a location that was the exact opposite of anything refined.

Fear began to settle in my chest as the car slowed and stopped in front of a large, rusted metal gate. The surroundings were dark and uninviting, and the tension in the air sent a chill down my spine. The driver, an impassive-looking Asian man, stepped out of the car and opened the door for me. With a look that left no room for argument, he extended his hand and said in an emotionless tone:

— Follow me, please.

His tone only heightened my anxiety. I tried to maintain my composure, but the feeling that something was terribly wrong wouldn't leave me. The warehouse was cold and desolate, with bare concrete walls and the echo of my own footsteps as the only sound filling the space. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, and the place had an oppressive atmosphere that screamed "interrogation."

My mind was racing, trying to process the situation. Panic started to take over, and I felt completely out of place. The thought of the pepper spray in my bag was the only thing that brought me any relief. If the situation went out of control, I had a means of defense—a small but potentially effective protection against any threat.

When the man behind me approached, I acted quickly. I pulled the pepper spray from my bag and, with a decisive movement, sprayed it directly into his face. He screamed, his cries of pain echoing off the cold walls of the warehouse as he clutched his burning eyes.

Before I could make another move, two enormous men emerged from the shadows and grabbed me forcefully. My heart was racing, and terror nearly paralyzed me. I was about to scream for help when a raspy voice, speaking in heavily accented English, echoed through the warehouse with a tone of irony that made me tremble even more.

— No need to be so dramatic, Miss Lauren. I just want to have a friendly conversation with you.

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"People often say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul. Perhaps that's why my iris is black." — Héctor Ridel.

Min Yoongi

January 1998

— Never forget your weapon, boy. You need that damn thing always close... In this line of work, it's essential. If you're caught without it, I guarantee you won't like what happens.

At five years old, Min Yoongi watched curiously as his father cleaned the shiny gun.

— What line of work, Dad? — he asked.

Yeong-su smiled. — Jeongyeon-pa, boy. This damn thing we're in.

— Oh.

Yoongi didn't fully understand what his father meant, not yet, at least. But he liked the weapon, just as he liked the red pocketknife his father had given him that morning.

— And remember to always follow the rules, Yoongi. Always.

August 2024

The Jeongyeon-pa has existed for many years, passed down from generation to generation. I assumed the responsibility of Don when I was eighteen, after my father was killed in an ambush by members of the Jopok, a rival mafia. Losing my father was an unbearable pain, especially after the loss of my mother to cancer. My father was my mentor; he taught me everything about how to be a good Don, to be fair, and earn the respect of everyone. I am known as Jeoseung Saja, the Death's Grim Reaper, not because I'm a psychopath or anything shit like that, but because I am deeply feared. And I'm proud of that because I know I'm fulfilling my role as Don.

My mafia offers protection in exchange for money to smaller mafias and is involved in arms smuggling, slot machines, and gambling houses spread across various parts of the world. I hate traitors, and those who dare betray me pay with their lives. For this reason, within my mafia, there are few whom I would risk my life to save. Despite mentioning at some point that I trust everyone, not all are worthy of my trust. I have six brothers who I consider true brothers because I know they would die for me, just as I would die for them. It may sound clichéd, but it's the plain truth.

New York is a decaying void, a vast dump where the defeated abandon their shattered dreams and try to move on. The sparkling lights that once shone have lost their luster, and that atmosphere of novelty and hope that once filled the air has long since disappeared. I can hardly remember the last time I was in New York, and honestly, since then, nothing has changed. Curiously, it used to be my favorite city, but Daegu is my home, and nothing and no one can change that.

My reason for being in New York isn't for fun, but for business. And, honestly, things here have been giving me a lot of headaches and irritation. Two months ago, Jung Hoseok, my financial manager responsible for overseeing the gang's money and ensuring that resources are available for our illegal operations, discovered a substantial diversion in our profits, especially from New York. At first, we thought it was an error from one of my men operating here, but Hoseok swore he had no idea what was happening. I trust the people around me, as everyone who enters the mafia earns my trust, which is not easy to achieve. However, the problem worsened when I was informed that some of my associates weren't receiving their shipments properly.

When Hoseok revealed who was behind the diversion, I was shocked. The Lexingtons had been serving my family for generations; my father always trusted Mr. Lexington to handle our transactions for our material in America. Knowing they were deceiving us behind our backs was an unforgivable betrayal, especially since my father had saved the Lexingtons from seeing their export and import empire destroyed on several occasions. I had to deal with this personally and clean up the mess in New York, as I knew many of my associates were turning against me.

Now, we're in the SUV. Namjoon is beside me, and Seokjin is in front, next to the driver, as we head to the building where we'll be staying during our time in New York. Namjoon is second-in-command, my right hand. He oversees the daily operations and has the authority to make important decisions on my behalf. I trust him completely. His father was also my father's underboss and was killed by the same people who killed mine. Seokjin, on the other hand, is a Caporegime and also a doctor, responsible for leading small groups within the mafia. He commands the soldiers and ensures my orders are carried out. His father was my father's Caporegime, but he's too old to continue in that role.

— Ross Lexington died in 2015. —  Namjoon comments, looking at the tablet in his hands. I stop drinking my whiskey and stare at him.

— Why didn't I know about this? — I ask, with a harsh tone.

— Nobody knew. — He responds, looking back at me. — I had to investigate. There's a lot of strange stuff in this story, and whoever hid it did a great job.

I knew Ross had an heir, but I remember he never mentioned whether it was a man or a woman. Over time, our relationship became strictly professional, especially after my father's death. Ross handled his responsibilities flawlessly, without raising any questions. No one who worked for the Lexingtons, not even my informant, warned me about Mr. Ross's death.

— Who's in charge of Lexington Corporation now? — Namjoon looks back at the tablet.

— Lauren Lexington, Ross's only daughter.

Namjoon tilts the tablet in my direction, and I see a picture of a redhead with medium curly hair, eyes as green as leaves, flashing a radiant smile while holding two cats: a white Angora and a gray, black, and white American Wirehair. I admit, the image of this woman, who might be stealing my money and turning my associates into enemies, sent a strange chill down my spine.

I smiled, because it was hard to believe that a cat lover was deceiving me.

Main Characters:

Min Yoongi (mafia boss)

Kim Namjoon (second in command) x Mia Kim (married)

Kim Seokjin (doctor) x Kim Eun-yu (nurse) (married)

Park Jimin x Seo Yi-kyeong (dating)

Jeon Jungkook x Dominique Holden (casual fling)

Jung Hoseok x Béatrice Cabezon (engaged)

Kim Taehyung x Saori Shibuki (engaged)

Lauren Lexington (CEO)

Mafia Rules:

Absolute Loyalty: Loyalty to the gang and the leader is essential. Betrayals are punished with extreme violence, often resulting in death. Trust is the foundation of how the mafia operates, and any suspicion of betrayal is treated severely.

Secrecy: Members must maintain absolute secrecy about the gang's activities. Public exposure or revealing internal information is considered a severe violation, often leading to fatal punishment.

Respect for Hierarchy: The hierarchical structure must be strictly respected. Challenging a superior authority, whether verbally or by action, is a serious offense.

Revenge and Reputation: The South Korean mafia places great value on honor and reputation. Offenses against the gang or its members are usually avenged to maintain respect and fear within the organization.

Code of Conduct: While violence is a common tool, there is a code that prohibits certain types of violence, such as against mafia members' families or innocent civilians. These codes vary from gang to gang, but the aim is to maintain a certain "honor" in their actions. Human trafficking and drug trafficking are not part of Yoongi's mafia. Anyone involved in such activities is considered a traitor.

Initiation: New members must go through an initiation process, a demonstration of loyalty. This entrance ritual solidifies the new member's commitment to the gang.

Warnings:

I am completely against any form of crime, and I do not intend to promote or romanticize criminal activity, nor romanticize relationships with people in the criminal world. 

The story is purely fictional.The story may address sensitive topics.

There may be references to sex and inappropriate language.

Only the first two chapters will be written in the first person; the remaining chapters will be in third person.

If you are not comfortable with this type of content, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

I'm not a native English speaker, my English isn't very good, so I apologize in advance if any mistakes come up, and I'm open to any help you can offer regarding the language.