#bts poly

Eight: Guard Duty

The third floor felt different now.

Not because it was quieter.

Not because it was cleaner.

But because it was sealed.

Two armed guards stood at the staircase entrance. Another pair stood halfway down the hallway. The windows were reinforced, the curtains drawn, and the air smelled faintly of metal—like guns had become part of the furniture.

You were led down the corridor like a prisoner being escorted to her cell.

Except your cell was beautiful.

That was the cruel part.

Namjoon walked ahead. Calm. Controlled. Like this was nothing more than another security protocol.

Jimin stayed close to your left, his hand lightly touching your elbow as if you might fall.

Jungkook stayed to your right, close enough that your sleeve brushed his. He didn’t touch you now, but his presence felt like a hand around your throat anyway.

Behind you, Jin and Taehyung followed, talking softly like this was an evening stroll.

Yoongi and Hoseok were somewhere behind, quieter.

You stopped when Namjoon opened a door at the end of the hall.

“This is it,” Namjoon said.

You stared inside.

A bedroom. Spacious. Clean. Warm lighting. A king-sized bed. A small sitting area. A desk. A balcony.

A luxury prison.

You stepped inside slowly.

Jimin’s hand fell away from your arm.

Jungkook stayed at the doorway.

Namjoon walked in after you, then turned and looked at everyone.

“This room is now restricted,” Namjoon said. “Only us. No staff.”

Jin whistled. “Wow. She’s officially a treasure.”

Taehyung smiled. “Or a hostage.”

You snapped your gaze at him.

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

Taehyung blinked innocently. “No.”

Then he tilted his head.

“It’s supposed to be true.”

Your stomach turned.

Namjoon ignored him and looked at you.

“You’ll stay here until we decide it’s safe.”

You stared at him.

“Until you decide,” you repeated.

Namjoon nodded once.

“Yes.”

Your hands curled into fists.

“So I’m not allowed to leave?”

Namjoon answered simply, “No.”

Jungkook finally spoke, voice low.

“You’re safer this way.”

You whipped your head toward him.

“Safer for who?” you asked. “Me… or you?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“For you.”

Jin laughed quietly.

“She’s bold.”

Hoseok sighed. “Jin, stop encouraging her.”

Jin smiled at Hoseok.

“I’m not encouraging. I’m enjoying.”

You turned back to Namjoon.

“I want to see my mom.”

Namjoon’s expression didn’t change.

“You’ll see her later today.”

“Why not now?”

Namjoon’s gaze hardened slightly.

“Because right now we’re deciding what to do with our father.”

That sentence made your blood go cold.

You swallowed.

“What are you going to do?”

Taehyung answered casually.

“Something permanent.”

Hoseok snapped, “Taehyung.”

Taehyung smiled. “What? She asked.”

You looked at them, horrified.

Jimin spoke softly.

“Don’t listen to him.”

Taehyung tilted his head.

“Why not? I’m being honest.”

Namjoon raised his hand slightly.

“Enough,” he said.

Then he looked at you.

“Rest. Eat. Don’t open the balcony doors. Don’t open the hallway door.”

You frowned. “What if I need something?”

Jin pointed at Jungkook.

“You call him.”

Your eyes widened. “Why him?”

Jin’s smile widened.

“Because he’s already obsessed.”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward Jin.

“Hyung.”

Jin lifted both hands. “What? Am I wrong?”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

Taehyung chuckled.

Yoongi muttered, “He’s not wrong.”

Your stomach twisted at the casual way they said it.

Obsessed.

Like it was a fact.

Like it was expected.

Namjoon looked at Jungkook.

“You’re on first watch,” Namjoon said.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“Why me?”

Namjoon replied, “Because you won’t leave her alone anyway.”

Silence.

Jungkook didn’t argue.

Jimin’s expression shifted.

A flicker of irritation crossed his face.

“Hyung,” Jimin said quietly, “I can—”

Namjoon cut him off.

“You’ll take second watch.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched slightly.

“…Fine.”

Namjoon looked at Jin.

“You’re third.”

Jin smiled. “With pleasure.”

Hoseok frowned. “What about me?”

Namjoon’s gaze softened a fraction.

“Hoseok, you’re injured. Rest.”

Hoseok’s lips pressed together.

“I’m fine.”

Yoongi spoke without looking up from his phone.

“You’re bleeding through your shirt.”

Hoseok glanced down and cursed under his breath.

Taehyung raised his hand lazily.

“I want a watch.”

Namjoon sighed. “You’ll get one.”

Taehyung smiled. “Good.”

Namjoon looked back at you.

“You will not leave this room without one of us.”

Your throat tightened.

“That’s insane.”

Namjoon’s voice stayed calm.

“It’s necessary.”

You whispered, “You’re treating me like property.”

Jungkook’s voice came from the doorway.

“Because you are.”

Your breath hitched.

You turned sharply toward him.

“What did you say?”

Jungkook’s eyes locked on yours.

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t tease.

He simply repeated, calm and terrifying—

“You’re property.”

The room went quiet.

Even Jin stopped smirking.

Even Taehyung stopped looking amused.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed.

Yoongi’s jaw tightened.

Hoseok looked uncomfortable.

Namjoon’s gaze sharpened.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon warned.

But Jungkook didn’t look away from you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Say that again,” you whispered, voice trembling with anger.

Jungkook stepped inside the room.

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

He walked toward you slowly.

“I said,” Jungkook repeated, “you’re property.”

Your hands trembled.

You wanted to slap him.

You wanted to scream.

Instead you forced the words out.

“I’m not yours.”

Jungkook stopped in front of you.

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second.

Then back to your eyes.

“I didn’t say you were mine,” he murmured.

You blinked.

“What?”

Jungkook leaned slightly closer.

“I said you’re property,” he repeated. “Not mine.”

Your stomach sank.

The implication hit you like a knife.

Not his.

Theirs.

All of them.

Jin chuckled softly.

“Smart girl,” Jin murmured. “She understood.”

You looked around at them.

Seven men.

Seven faces.

Seven different kinds of danger.

And suddenly you felt small.

Not because you were weak.

But because you were outnumbered in every possible way.

Namjoon stepped forward.

“Enough,” he said sharply. “Everyone out.”

Jin pouted. “Aww.”

Taehyung sighed dramatically.

“Party’s over.”

Yoongi walked toward the door without a word.

Hoseok followed, glancing at you with something like sympathy.

Jimin hesitated.

He looked at you.

His voice was quiet.

“If you need anything…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He just looked at Jungkook.

Like he didn’t trust him.

Then he left.

Jin and Taehyung lingered at the doorway.

Jin leaned against the frame and smiled at you.

“Try not to fall in love,” Jin said sweetly.

Your blood boiled.

“I won’t.”

Jin’s smile widened.

“You will.”

Taehyung waved lazily.

“Good luck, Y/N.”

Then they left too.

Namjoon was last.

Before leaving, he looked at Jungkook.

His voice dropped low.

“Don’t push her too hard.”

Jungkook smirked faintly.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Namjoon looked at you.

“Rest,” he said again.

Then he left.

The door shut.

The lock clicked.

And you were alone.

With Jungkook.

Your throat tightened instantly.

You turned toward the window, needing distance.

Needing air.

But Jungkook spoke behind you.

“You’re angry.”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook moved closer.

You heard his footsteps.

Slow.

Unhurried.

You refused to turn.

“What do you want?” you asked, voice flat.

Jungkook’s voice came closer.

“I want you to stop looking at me like I’m the villain.”

You let out a bitter laugh.

“You are the villain.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment.

Then he said quietly.

“No.”

You finally turned.

He was standing only a few feet away.

His eyes were tired.

Dark.

There was dried blood on his collar from last night. His knuckles were bruised. His hair was still slightly damp like he’d washed quickly but couldn’t scrub the night away.

You swallowed.

“If you’re not the villain,” you whispered, “then what are you?”

Jungkook stepped closer.

He stopped in front of you.

Close enough that your breath hitched.

“I’m the one who will keep you alive,” he said.

Your chest tightened.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Jungkook tilted his head.

“I know.”

His gaze dropped to your neck.

Your pulse jumped.

Then he lifted his eyes again.

“But you smell like you need someone to.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Stop talking about my scent,” you snapped.

Jungkook’s lips curved faintly.

“I can’t.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Why?”

Jungkook leaned closer, his voice lowering.

“Because you smell different when you’re lying,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

“What?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“You smell different when you’re scared,” he continued.

You tried to step back.

He followed.

“You smell different when you’re angry,” he said.

Your back hit the edge of the desk.

You glared up at him.

“And what do I smell like now?” you challenged.

Jungkook stared at you.

For a long moment.

Then he answered quietly.

“Confused.”

Your throat tightened.

He was right.

And you hated him for it.

You swallowed hard.

“Move.”

Jungkook didn’t.

Instead he placed his hands on the desk on either side of you, caging you in again.

You stiffened.

“Jungkook,” you warned.

His eyes flicked to your lips.

Then back to your eyes.

“I’m not going to touch you,” he said.

You laughed coldly.

“Wow. How generous.”

Jungkook’s jaw flexed.

“I want to,” he admitted.

The honesty made your breath catch.

“But I won’t,” he continued. “Not unless you stop fighting me.”

Your chest tightened.

“I’m not fighting you. I’m fighting being trapped.”

Jungkook leaned closer.

“And who trapped you?”

You stared at him.

“…Your father.”

Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Exactly.”

His voice softened slightly.

“So stop acting like I’m the one who did this to you.”

You whispered, “You didn’t stop it either.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“I tried.”

You blinked.

“You tried?”

Jungkook’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“My mother died,” he said suddenly.

Your breath caught.

The topic shifted so fast it threw you off balance.

You stared at him.

He continued quietly.

“She died and my father didn’t even cry.”

Your throat tightened.

“He brought your mom into the house a month later,” Jungkook said. “And you want to know what I thought?”

You didn’t speak.

You couldn’t.

Jungkook’s voice dropped.

“I thought he replaced her.”

His jaw clenched.

“Like she was nothing.”

Your stomach sank.

“And then he brought you,” Jungkook continued.

His eyes locked onto yours.

“And you looked at us like you weren’t scared.”

You swallowed.

Jungkook’s voice turned rough.

“And it pissed me off.”

You whispered, “So you decided to hurt me.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t move.

“Yes.”

The bluntness hit you like a slap.

You stared at him, shocked.

“You’re admitting it?”

Jungkook nodded.

“I wanted you to cry,” he said quietly. “I wanted you to beg.”

Your blood ran cold.

He leaned closer.

“And now that you’re here,” he whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your breath hitched.

“You hate me,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes softened for half a second.

Then he said something that made your heart pound painfully.

“I hate that I want you.”

Silence filled the room.

You didn’t know what to say.

Because you didn’t want to hear it.

But you couldn’t stop listening.

Jungkook’s gaze drifted over your face again, slow and deliberate.

“Do you know what’s worse?” he asked.

You swallowed.

“What?”

Jungkook’s voice lowered.

“I don’t even want to hurt you anymore.”

Your heart stuttered.

You whispered, “Then stop.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“I can’t stop,” he admitted.

You frowned. “Why?”

Jungkook leaned in until his forehead nearly touched yours.

“Because if I stop,” he whispered, “then I have to admit I’m obsessed.”

Your breath caught.

He inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering for a second.

Then he whispered against your lips, barely a breath away.

“And I don’t want my brothers to know how badly I need you.”

Your pulse slammed.

You stared at him.

“Need me?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Then he stepped back suddenly, like he hated himself for saying it.

He turned away and walked to the chair by the door.

He sat down, leaning back with his arms crossed.

Like he was trying to regain control.

He didn’t look at you.

But his voice was still quiet.

“You can hate me,” he said.

You didn’t answer.

He continued.

“You can scream at me.”

Still silence.

“But don’t try to run,” Jungkook said.

Your throat tightened.

“Or what?”

Jungkook finally looked at you again.

His gaze was steady.

“I’ll bring you back,” he said.

You whispered, “And then what?”

Jungkook’s lips curved faintly.

“Then you’ll finally understand,” he murmured.

You frowned.

“Understand what?”

Jungkook’s voice dropped, calm and possessive.

“That this room isn’t your prison.”

He paused.

Then added—

“It’s your cage.”

Your blood turned cold.

You stared at him.

And he stared back.

Like he was waiting for you to break.

Like he was waiting for you to accept it.

Minutes passed.

Then you whispered, voice shaking.

“You’re sick.”

Jungkook nodded once.

“I know.”

You swallowed hard.

“And you’re proud of it.”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened.

“No,” he said.

Then his voice lowered.

“I’m terrified of it.”

That answer made your chest ache in a way you didn’t understand.

Because for the first time…

He didn’t sound like a monster.

He sounded like a man who knew he was becoming one.

And you were the reason.

The silence returned.

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Jungkook didn’t move.

A voice came through.

“Jungkook. Switch.”

Jimin.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

He stood up slowly, unlocking the door.

Jimin stepped inside.

Fresh clothes. Clean hands. Calm expression.

But his eyes went straight to you.

Not Jungkook.

You.

“You okay?” Jimin asked softly.

You hesitated.

Then nodded.

Jungkook’s voice was cold.

“She’s fine.”

Jimin glanced at Jungkook.

“She looks pale.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t.”

Jimin’s smile was faint.

“Don’t what?”

Jungkook stepped closer.

“Don’t pretend you care,” he said.

Jimin’s expression didn’t change.

“I do care.”

Jungkook scoffed.

“You care because she’s new.”

Jimin’s gaze flickered.

“No,” he said. “I care because she’s human.”

Your throat tightened.

Jungkook laughed once.

Low.

Bitter.

“And we’re not?”

Jimin’s voice was quiet.

“We stopped being human a long time ago.”

Silence.

That line settled in the room like smoke.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

Jimin stepped closer to you.

Not touching.

Just close enough to make Jungkook tense.

“If you need anything,” Jimin said gently, “tell me.”

Jungkook’s voice snapped.

“She doesn’t need you.”

Jimin looked at him.

“Yes,” Jimin said calmly. “She does.”

Jungkook stepped forward.

“You want her?” Jungkook asked quietly.

Jimin didn’t blink.

“Yes.”

Your heart stopped.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly.

“You’re saying it like that?” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin’s lips curved.

“I’m not ashamed,” Jimin said. “Are you?”

Jungkook’s hands clenched.

Jimin turned his attention back to you.

His voice softened.

“You’re safe with me,” he said.

You swallowed.

“I don’t feel safe with any of you.”

Jimin nodded slowly.

“That’s fair.”

Jungkook’s voice was low.

“She’s not going to choose you.”

Jimin smiled faintly.

“She doesn’t have to choose.”

Then he looked at Jungkook.

“We’re not fighting over her.”

Jungkook’s gaze sharpened.

“What are we doing then?”

Jimin’s voice dropped.

“We’re waiting,” he said.

Your throat tightened.

Waiting for what?

Jimin’s eyes flicked to you.

Then he answered softly.

“For her to stop pretending she doesn’t feel it too.”

Your breath caught.

You stared at him.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“You’re disgusting,” you whispered.

Jimin smiled faintly.

“Yes,” he said. “But I’m patient.”

Jungkook stepped back, his expression dark.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Take your watch.”

He walked toward the door, but before leaving, he looked at you one last time.

His eyes were unreadable.

Then he said quietly—

“Don’t trust him.”

Jimin smiled as Jungkook passed him.

“And you shouldn’t trust you.”

Jungkook paused.

Then leaned slightly closer to Jimin’s ear.

“Touch her,” Jungkook whispered, “and I’ll kill you.”

Jimin’s smile didn’t fade.

“Try,” he whispered back.

Jungkook left.

The door shut.

And the lock clicked again.

You were alone again.

This time with Jimin.

Jimin turned toward you slowly.

His expression was softer than Jungkook’s.

But that didn’t make him safer.

Sometimes softness was the most dangerous kind of trap.

He walked toward you.

Stopped a few feet away.

Then he sat down on the chair Jungkook had just left.

Like he didn’t want to scare you.

Like he was giving you space.

“You’re shaking,” Jimin said quietly.

You hugged yourself.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Then I’ll talk.”

You blinked.

“What?”

Jimin leaned back slightly.

“If I sit here in silence,” he said, “you’ll think I’m waiting for you to break.”

Your throat tightened.

“Aren’t you?”

Jimin smiled.

“No,” he said softly. “I’m waiting for you to breathe.”

You swallowed.

Jimin’s voice stayed gentle.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Do you miss your old life?”

You stared at him.

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded slowly.

“What do you miss most?” he asked.

You hesitated.

Then answered quietly.

“Being invisible.”

Jimin’s eyes softened.

“That makes sense,” he murmured.

Then he tilted his head.

“But you’re not invisible here.”

You whispered, “I know.”

Jimin’s gaze lingered on your face.

“You’re not invisible because you’re beautiful,” he said.

You scoffed.

“That’s not why.”

Jimin smiled faintly.

“No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”

His voice lowered.

“You’re not invisible because you walked into a house full of men who hate their father.”

Your breath caught.

“And you reminded us of her,” Jimin continued.

You frowned.

“Her?”

Jimin’s gaze dropped.

“Our mother,” he said quietly.

Your throat tightened.

“You loved her,” you whispered.

Jimin’s smile was sad.

“We worshipped her,” he corrected.

Silence.

Then he looked at you again.

“And then she died,” he said. “And father replaced her.”

You swallowed hard.

“With my mom.”

Jimin nodded.

“And you,” he added softly, “became the proof.”

Your stomach twisted.

“You blame me for that?”

Jimin shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Not anymore.”

You stared.

“Not anymore?”

Jimin’s voice was calm.

“At first, I wanted to break you,” he admitted.

Your breath caught.

“Like Jungkook?”

Jimin smiled faintly.

“Like all of us.”

You felt sick.

Then Jimin leaned forward slightly.

“But now,” he said softly, “I want you to survive.”

You swallowed.

“Why?”

Jimin’s eyes darkened.

“Because I don’t want Rossi to touch what we’ve already touched,” he said.

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him.

He said it so casually.

So calmly.

Like it was normal.

Like you were already stained by them.

You whispered, “You haven’t touched me.”

Jimin smiled.

“No,” he said.

Then he looked at you like he could see under your skin.

“But we’ve already been inside your head.”

Your throat tightened.

He wasn’t wrong.

Jimin stood up slowly.

He didn’t rush.

He didn’t corner you.

He just walked to the table near the couch and poured you a glass of water.

He held it out.

“Drink,” he said.

You hesitated.

Then took it.

Your fingers brushed his.

Warm.

Soft.

You pulled away quickly.

Jimin didn’t react.

He simply sat back down.

“Do you hate Jungkook?” Jimin asked.

You froze.

Then whispered, “Yes.”

Jimin nodded.

“That’s good,” he murmured.

You frowned.

“How is that good?”

Jimin smiled faintly.

“Because if you hated him less,” he said, “you might start wanting him.”

Your heart pounded.

You whispered, “I don’t want him.”

Jimin tilted his head.

“Then why are you blushing?” he asked softly.

Your face heated instantly.

You slammed the glass down on the table.

“I’m not!”

Jimin chuckled quietly.

“You are,” he said.

Then he leaned forward, voice low.

“And you should be careful.”

You swallowed.

“Careful of what?”

Jimin’s eyes darkened.

“Jungkook doesn’t know how to want gently,” he murmured.

Your throat tightened.

“And you do?”

Jimin smiled slowly.

“No,” he admitted.

Then he added softly—

“But I know how to wait.”

The words sank into your skin like a promise.

You stared at him, breathing unevenly.

Jimin didn’t move.

He didn’t touch you.

He didn’t force you.

He just watched you.

Like a patient predator.

And the worst part?

It made your skin crawl… and your heart race at the same time.

The door clicked suddenly.

You flinched.

But it wasn’t Jungkook.

It was Taehyung’s voice from outside.

“Jimin. Switch.”

Jimin sighed lightly.

Then stood up.

He looked at you one last time.

His voice was soft.

“Try to sleep,” he said.

Then he added, almost like a secret—

“And don’t pretend you’re not curious.”

Your breath caught.

Before you could respond, Jimin opened the door.

Taehyung stepped inside.

Smiling.

Always smiling.

Jimin left.

The lock clicked again.

And now…

It was Taehyung.

Taehyung looked around the room like he was inspecting a new toy.

Then he looked at you.

And his smile widened.

“Hi,” he said brightly.

You stared at him.

“…Hi.”

Taehyung tilted his head.

“You look tired,” he said.

You laughed bitterly.

“No kidding.”

Taehyung walked closer, then sat on the edge of the bed like he belonged there.

“So,” he said casually, “which one of us scares you the most?”

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t answer.

Taehyung smiled.

“Oh,” he said softly. “It’s Jungkook.”

You swallowed hard.

Taehyung leaned forward.

“Or maybe,” he murmured, “it’s Namjoon.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Stop.”

Taehyung chuckled.

“You know what I think?” he asked.

You glared.

“I don’t care.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled.

“I think,” he said softly, “you’re not scared of us.”

Your breath caught.

Taehyung leaned closer.

“I think you’re scared of yourself,” he whispered.

Your throat tightened.

“That’s not true.”

Taehyung smiled.

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

Then he stood up and walked slowly toward you.

He stopped in front of you.

Not touching.

But close enough to make you tense.

Then he whispered, voice low and amused—

“Because if you admit you want even a little bit of this…”

His gaze flicked to your lips.

“…you’ll never be able to stop.”

Your breath shattered.

Taehyung stepped back, satisfied.

Then he smiled again.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m not going to touch you.”

You swallowed hard.

“Why not?”

Taehyung’s smile turned wicked.

“Because,” he murmured, “watching you lose control without being touched…”

He tilted his head.

“…is more fun.”

Your blood ran cold.

And you realized—

Jimin was patience.

Jungkook was hunger.

But Taehyung?

Taehyung was a game.

Seven: The Restricted Wing

The dining room stayed quiet for a long time after your mother’s confession.

Not the awkward kind of quiet.

Not the kind that happens when people don’t know what to say.

This silence was sharp.

Heavy.

Like everyone at the table was thinking the same thing—

Jeon Kangtae had crossed a line.

Your mother wiped her tears with trembling fingers, her shoulders shaking as she tried to breathe normally.

You kept your arm around her, even though your own body felt like it was falling apart from the inside.

Because what else could you do?

If you broke down too, you’d both drown.

Namjoon leaned back in his chair, staring at the untouched food like it had offended him.

Yoongi’s fingers tapped slowly against his coffee cup, eyes narrowed.

Hoseok sat stiffly, jaw clenched, as if forcing himself not to move too fast because of the injury.

Taehyung’s gaze drifted around the table, bored but alert.

Jin looked like he was holding back laughter, except there was no humor in his eyes anymore.

Jimin was the only one watching you directly.

Not your mother.

You.

Like he was studying how much fear you could carry before you snapped.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook didn’t sit anymore.

He stood behind your chair like a shadow.

Like a guard.

Or a leash.

You could feel his presence behind you.

Warm.

Threatening.

Possessive.

You hated that you could feel it.

Hated that your body reacted to it.

Namjoon finally spoke.

“Mother,” he said.

Your mother flinched at the title.

She looked up quickly.

“Yes?”

Namjoon’s voice was calm. Too calm.

“What exactly did my father say?”

Your mother swallowed hard.

She glanced at you, then down at her lap.

“He told me…” she whispered, “that Rossi called him directly.”

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened.

Jin’s smile disappeared.

Hoseok muttered, “Of course he did.”

Your mother continued, voice trembling.

“He said Rossi offered him a trade. A clean trade. No bloodshed. No war.”

Taehyung’s lips curved.

“Rossi doesn’t do clean,” he murmured.

Namjoon ignored him.

“And the trade was?” Namjoon asked.

Your mother’s hands twisted together.

“She said… Rossi said he would stop coming after the estate…”

Your stomach dropped.

“…if Kangtae handed Y/N over.”

Silence.

It was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

Your mother’s voice broke.

“He told me if I caused trouble, he would take her himself and deliver her to Rossi.”

Your mother’s lips trembled again.

“And he told me…” she whispered, “…that I should be grateful he even let her live this long.”

Your breath stopped.

Something inside you went cold.

Like your blood had turned to ice.

You stared at the table.

Your vision blurred.

Not because you were crying.

Because your mind couldn’t process how easily a man could say something like that about you.

Like you were disposable.

Like you were meat.

Like your life was currency.

Jin stood up slowly.

The chair scraped harshly against the floor.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jin said calmly.

Hoseok snapped, “Jin.”

Jin didn’t even look at him.

“I’m not joking,” Jin continued. “I’m actually going to kill him.”

Yoongi’s voice was low.

“You’ll have to stand in line.”

Taehyung smiled faintly.

“I’ll hold him down for you.”

Jimin finally spoke, voice quiet.

“Not yet.”

All eyes turned to him.

Jimin’s expression was composed, but his eyes were cold.

“If we kill him now,” Jimin said, “Rossi will think we’re panicking.”

Namjoon nodded once.

“Correct.”

Jungkook finally moved.

He stepped closer to the table, hands planted firmly on the wood.

His voice came out low.

“So we let him live?”

Namjoon’s gaze met his.

“For now,” Namjoon answered.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“And what about her?” Jungkook asked, pointing at you like you weren’t even a person.

You flinched.

Your mother clutched your arm tighter.

Namjoon’s gaze flickered to you.

Then he said firmly.

“We move her.”

You blinked.

“Move me where?” you asked.

Namjoon didn’t answer you directly.

He looked at Hoseok.

“Hoseok. Get the third floor secured.”

Hoseok nodded instantly.

“I’ll handle it.”

Namjoon looked at Jin.

“Jin. Double the guards. No one enters that hallway without a code.”

Jin smiled faintly.

“With pleasure.”

Namjoon looked at Yoongi.

“Yoongi, check the cameras. Make sure there are no blind spots.”

Yoongi stood up without a word.

Namjoon looked at Taehyung.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung raised his brows innocently.

“Yes?”

Namjoon’s voice was flat.

“Stop smiling.”

Taehyung laughed quietly.

“Sorry.”

Namjoon looked at Jimin.

“Jimin, you stay with her.”

Jimin nodded once.

“Okay.”

Then Namjoon’s gaze turned toward Jungkook.

“And you,” Namjoon said, voice sharp, “will stay away from her.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

You felt his presence shift behind you.

Dangerous.

Offended.

Like Namjoon had insulted his pride.

“She’s not a weapon,” Jungkook said quietly.

Namjoon didn’t flinch.

“She is,” Namjoon replied.

Your stomach turned.

You stood up abruptly.

“Stop,” you said, voice shaking. “Stop talking about me like I’m some object.”

Jimin’s gaze softened slightly.

Jin tilted his head, amused.

Taehyung’s eyes gleamed.

Yoongi didn’t look back.

Hoseok sighed quietly.

Namjoon looked at you.

And for a moment, he looked almost… tired.

“Y/N,” Namjoon said, “this isn’t personal.”

You laughed bitterly.

“It’s literally my life.”

Namjoon’s gaze stayed steady.

“Exactly,” he replied. “That’s why you’ll listen.”

Jungkook’s voice came from behind you.

“She’s scared.”

Namjoon looked at him coldly.

“And whose fault is that?”

Silence.

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Because everyone knew.

Not Rossi.

Not Kangtae.

The brothers.

They’d made you scared the moment you stepped into the estate.

They’d made sure you felt small.

Powerless.

Owned.

Namjoon spoke again.

“Y/N,” he said, “you’re going to be moved to the restricted wing.”

Your throat tightened.

“What restricted wing?”

Taehyung answered casually.

“Our hallway.”

You stared at him.

“What?”

Jin smiled.

“The third floor isn’t just bedrooms,” Jin explained. “It’s where we keep what we don’t want stolen.”

Your skin crawled.

Jimin stood up and walked to you.

He didn’t touch you yet.

He just stood close enough that you could smell him.

Soft cologne.

Clean.

Danger.

“You’ll be safe there,” Jimin said gently.

You whispered, “Safe from Rossi… or safe from leaving?”

Jimin’s eyes flickered.

He didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

Your mother suddenly spoke.

“No,” she whispered.

Everyone turned toward her.

Your mother stood up, hands trembling.

“No,” she repeated louder. “She stays with me.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to her.

Cold.

Sharp.

Like he hated her for even saying it.

Namjoon’s voice stayed calm.

“She can’t.”

Your mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“She’s my daughter.”

Yoongi muttered, “Not anymore.”

Your mother gasped, horrified.

You spun toward Yoongi.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Yoongi stared at you blankly.

“I’m not the enemy,” he said. “Reality is.”

You felt sick.

Your mother stepped forward, voice breaking.

“Please,” she begged. “I’ll do anything. Just let her stay with me.”

Jin’s smile softened.

“Be careful what you offer,” he murmured.

Your mother froze.

Jin leaned forward slightly, voice gentle like poison.

“Because we might take you seriously.”

You clenched your fists.

“Stop talking to her like that.”

Jin blinked slowly.

“Like what?” he asked innocently.

You snapped, “Like she’s disposable!”

Jin smiled.

“She is disposable,” he said.

Your breath caught.

The words punched you in the gut.

Jin tilted his head, still smiling.

“So are you.”

Your vision blurred.

Your hands trembled.

You wanted to slap him.

You wanted to scream.

But before you could, Jungkook’s hand slammed down on the table so hard the plates rattled.

“Enough.”

The room went quiet.

Jungkook’s eyes were on Jin.

Sharp.

Furious.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Jungkook growled.

Jin’s smile widened.

“Oh?” Jin teased. “So now you care?”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“I said stop.”

Jin held up his hands.

“Okay. Okay.”

But his eyes still gleamed.

Like he enjoyed watching Jungkook unravel.

Namjoon stood.

“That’s settled,” Namjoon said. “She moves today.”

Your heart dropped.

Today.

You looked at your mother.

Your mother’s face crumpled.

“Y/N…” she whispered.

You grabbed her hands.

“Mom, don’t cry,” you whispered quickly.

Your mother sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head.

“It’s not your fault,” you lied.

But it was.

Not because she meant harm.

But because her choices brought you here.

Your mother hugged you tightly.

“I’ll talk to Kangtae,” she whispered. “I’ll make him stop.”

Yoongi laughed quietly.

“You can’t make him stop,” Yoongi said.

Your mother turned to him.

“Why not?!”

Yoongi’s voice was cold.

“Because he doesn’t see you as his wife,” he said.

He finally looked at her.

“He sees you as a leash.”

Your mother froze.

The truth hit her so hard you could see it in her face.

Hoseok stood up.

“Let’s move,” Hoseok said quietly. “Before father comes down.”

That word—father—made your skin crawl.

Namjoon nodded.

“Jimin. Take her.”

Jimin stepped closer.

This time, he gently touched your elbow.

Not rough.

Not forceful.

But it still felt like control.

You jerked slightly.

“I can walk,” you said.

Jimin nodded. “I know.”

But he didn’t remove his hand.

You looked at your mother one last time.

“Stay safe,” you whispered.

Your mother nodded quickly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You too.”

Jin murmured, “She won’t be safe.”

Your head snapped toward him.

Jin smiled sweetly.

“She’ll be kept.”

Your stomach twisted.

Jimin guided you out of the dining room.

And the moment you stepped into the hallway, you heard it.

A door opening.

Heavy footsteps.

A voice that made your blood run cold.

Jeon Kangtae.

“Well,” your stepfather said smoothly. “I see everyone’s awake.”

Jimin stopped.

You stopped.

The brothers turned.

Jeon Kangtae walked into the hallway like nothing happened last night.

Like his estate hadn’t been attacked.

Like blood hadn’t stained his marble floors.

He wore a perfectly pressed suit, hair slicked back, and his smile was calm.

Too calm.

His eyes landed on you.

And he smiled wider.

“There she is,” he said.

Your stomach dropped.

Your mother stiffened behind you.

Jeon Kangtae walked closer.

Jungkook’s posture shifted instantly.

Protective.

Namjoon stepped forward, blocking him slightly.

“Father,” Namjoon greeted coldly.

Kangtae chuckled.

“You look tense,” he said. “Did something happen last night?”

Jin smiled.

“Oh, nothing much,” Jin replied. “Just a few men trying to steal your new daughter.”

Kangtae’s eyes flickered.

But only for a second.

Then he smiled again.

“Ah,” he said. “Rossi’s men.”

Your blood ran cold at how casually he said it.

Like Rossi was a business partner.

Not a monster.

Kangtae looked at you again.

“Y/N,” he said gently.

You didn’t answer.

Kangtae stepped closer.

“You should be grateful,” he said. “If it weren’t for me, you’d already be dead.”

Your hands trembled.

Namjoon spoke sharply.

“She is not speaking to you.”

Kangtae laughed.

“Namjoon,” he sighed. “Always so protective.”

His gaze slid toward Jungkook.

“And you,” Kangtae said. “You look angry.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

His eyes were locked on his father like he wanted to tear his throat out.

Kangtae smiled.

“How sweet,” he murmured. “You boys are attached already.”

Your stomach twisted.

Attached.

Like you were a pet.

Kangtae stepped toward you again.

But before he could reach you—

Jungkook moved.

He stepped in front of you instantly.

Blocking you.

Shielding you with his body.

Your breath caught.

Kangtae raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?” he said. “What’s this?”

Jungkook’s voice was low.

“Don’t come near her.”

Kangtae stared at him.

Then smiled wider.

“My son,” he said, almost amused, “she belongs to me.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“No,” Jungkook said. “She doesn’t.”

Kangtae’s smile faded slightly.

“You forget yourself,” Kangtae warned.

Jungkook didn’t move.

Namjoon stepped closer too.

“She’s under our protection now,” Namjoon said.

Kangtae laughed.

“Protection?” he repeated. “From Rossi?”

His gaze sharpened.

“You boys don’t understand business.”

Yoongi spoke quietly.

“It’s not business when you sell people.”

Kangtae’s eyes flickered toward Yoongi.

His smile returned.

“Everything is business,” Kangtae replied.

Then his gaze returned to you.

“You have no idea how valuable you are,” he said softly.

Your throat tightened.

“I’m not valuable,” you whispered.

Kangtae smiled.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said. “You are priceless.”

Your skin crawled.

Jin leaned against the wall, smiling.

“Father,” Jin said sweetly, “why don’t you tell her what Rossi offered you?”

Kangtae’s gaze sharpened.

“Watch your mouth,” Kangtae warned.

Jin’s smile widened.

“But it’s true,” Jin said. “He offered you money, didn’t he?”

Your heart stopped.

Your eyes widened.

Kangtae’s voice was cold now.

“Enough.”

Taehyung spoke casually.

“Rossi offered him more than money,” Taehyung murmured.

You turned sharply toward Taehyung.

“What?”

Taehyung smiled.

“He offered him peace,” Taehyung said. “A guarantee.”

Your blood ran cold.

Kangtae’s jaw clenched.

Hoseok spoke quietly.

“And father was tempted.”

Kangtae snapped his gaze to Hoseok.

“You’re injured,” Kangtae said. “You should be resting instead of talking.”

Hoseok smiled faintly.

“You should be dead,” Hoseok replied.

Silence.

Your breath caught.

Kangtae stared at Hoseok.

Then he laughed.

Low.

Dangerous.

“My sons,” Kangtae said. “You’re all emotional.”

He looked at you again.

“This girl has made you forget who you are.”

Jungkook’s voice was sharp.

“We know exactly who we are.”

Kangtae stepped closer to Jungkook.

“And who is that?” Kangtae asked.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate.

“Men who don’t share.”

Your blood froze.

The words weren’t just a threat to Rossi.

They were a threat to Kangtae too.

Kangtae stared at Jungkook.

Then smiled.

And his smile was chilling.

“Good,” he said softly. “Then you understand.”

He leaned slightly closer.

“If Rossi wants her… you’ll give her.”

Namjoon’s voice snapped.

“No.”

Kangtae sighed dramatically.

“You’re my sons,” Kangtae said. “You exist because I allowed you to.”

Yoongi’s voice was ice.

“And you’ll die because we allow you to.”

Your mouth went dry.

Kangtae’s smile finally disappeared.

For the first time, you saw it.

Not a charming businessman.

A monster.

A man who had killed before.

And would kill again.

His gaze slid back to you.

And it felt like being measured.

Weighed.

Priced.

Kangtae stepped forward again, ignoring Jungkook.

Jungkook grabbed his father’s wrist.

Hard.

The hallway went silent.

Your heart pounded.

Kangtae looked down at Jungkook’s hand.

Then slowly lifted his gaze.

“You touched me,” Kangtae said quietly.

Jungkook’s voice was low.

“Touch her,” Jungkook replied, “and I’ll cut your hand off.”

Your breath shattered.

Jimin’s fingers tightened around your elbow.

Namjoon’s eyes darkened.

Taehyung smiled like he was watching a show.

Jin’s expression turned almost pleased.

Yoongi’s gaze was murderous.

Hoseok’s jaw clenched.

Kangtae stared at Jungkook for a long moment.

Then he smiled again.

Not amused.

Not warm.

It was a predator’s smile.

“Interesting,” Kangtae murmured.

Then he leaned closer to Jungkook.

And said softly, so only the brothers could hear—

“Be careful. Rossi doesn’t just want her. He wants to make you beg.”

Your stomach dropped.

Kangtae pulled his wrist free.

Then he stepped back.

He straightened his suit jacket.

And he looked at you one last time.

“You’ll come to me eventually,” he said.

You swallowed hard.

“I won’t.”

Kangtae smiled.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “You will.”

Then he turned away and walked out of the hallway like he owned the air.

Like he hadn’t just threatened you.

Like he hadn’t just nearly started a war with his own sons.

When he was gone…

The hallway stayed quiet.

Jungkook’s breathing was heavy.

Namjoon stared at the floor, jaw clenched.

Jin looked entertained.

Yoongi muttered, “I hate him.”

Hoseok exhaled shakily.

Taehyung murmured, “That was fun.”

Jimin finally spoke.

“We need to move her now.”

Namjoon nodded.

“Agreed.”

You swallowed hard.

“Move me where?” you asked.

Jin smiled.

“To the restricted wing,” he said.

Taehyung added, “Where we can watch you.”

Yoongi muttered, “Where father can’t touch you.”

You blinked.

“So you’re… protecting me from him?”

Hoseok’s eyes softened slightly.

“Yes,” he said.

Then he added, quieter—

“And also from yourself.”

You frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Hoseok didn’t answer.

Jungkook stepped toward you.

His eyes were still burning with rage.

But when he looked at you…

The rage twisted into something else.

Something dangerous.

Something possessive.

He reached out and grabbed your wrist.

Not hard this time.

Firm.

Steady.

“We’re going,” he said.

You tried to pull away.

“No.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“Y/N.”

You swallowed.

“I want my mom.”

Jungkook stared at you for a long moment.

Then he spoke quietly.

“You can see her,” he said. “Later.”

Your chest tightened.

“Promise?”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened.

He didn’t like the word promise.

But he nodded once.

“I’ll bring you to her,” he said.

Then he leaned closer, voice low.

“But don’t test me.”

Your breath hitched.

“Why?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s lips curved faintly.

“Because I’m trying very hard not to do something stupid.”

Your heart raced.

You whispered, “Like what?”

Jungkook’s gaze flickered to your lips.

Then he said softly—

“Like kissing you.”

Your breath shattered.

The hallway went silent.

Everyone heard it.

Jin’s eyes widened.

Taehyung smiled.

Yoongi muttered, “Oh my God.”

Hoseok’s brows lifted.

Jimin’s expression darkened instantly.

Namjoon’s jaw clenched.

And you…

You froze.

Your cheeks burned.

Your throat tightened.

Jungkook didn’t look embarrassed.

He looked serious.

Like he meant it.

Like it wasn’t a tease.

It was a confession he hated himself for.

Jimin stepped closer.

“Jungkook,” Jimin said quietly, “stop.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Jimin.

“What?”

Jimin’s voice was calm.

“You’re going to scare her.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“She’s already scared.”

Namjoon cut in.

“Enough. We move.”

Then Namjoon looked at you.

His voice was firm.

“Y/N, you’re coming with us.”

You swallowed hard.

You didn’t want to.

But the hallway still smelled like danger.

And your stepfather’s words still rang in your ears.

You’ll come to me eventually.

You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered.

But your voice didn’t sound convincing.

Because deep down…

You knew you were already trapped.

And the scariest part?

It wasn’t Rossi’s men.

It wasn’t your stepfather.

It was the way the brothers looked at you now.

Not like an enemy.

Not like an intruder.

Like a possession worth fighting for.

Like a prize worth bleeding for.

Like something they would rather destroy than lose.

Jungkook tightened his grip on your wrist.

“Come on,” he murmured.

And you followed.

Because you didn’t have a choice.

Because your life was no longer yours.

And because the Jeon brothers had finally made their decision.

They weren’t going to let Rossi take you.

They weren’t going to let Kangtae sell you.

They weren’t going to let you leave.

Not now.

Six: House Rules

The first thing you noticed when you woke up…

Was that you weren’t alone.

You blinked slowly, your body stiff under unfamiliar sheets. Your eyes adjusted to the dim morning light filtering through thick curtains.

Then you turned your head.

And froze.

Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Fully dressed.

Hair messy.

Arms crossed.

Watching you.

Like he hadn’t slept at all.

Like he’d been waiting for your eyes to open.

You swallowed, throat dry.

“How long have you been staring at me?”

Jungkook didn’t blink.

“Long enough.”

Your stomach twisted.

“That’s creepy.”

He shrugged. “Good.”

You pushed yourself upright, the blanket sliding down your shoulders. You were still in the dress from last night. Wrinkled. Uncomfortable. Humiliating.

You glanced around quickly.

The door was closed.

Still locked.

Your heart jumped.

“You locked me in.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook leaned back slightly, resting his hands on his thighs.

“You keep asking me that.”

“Because you are,” you snapped.

He smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

You yanked the blanket tighter around yourself.

“Where are the guards Namjoon said he’d put outside?”

“They’re there,” Jungkook answered.

“And I can’t leave?”

“You can leave,” he said casually. “If I let you.”

Your jaw clenched.

“Who do you think you are?”

Jungkook’s gaze traveled down your face slowly.

Then he answered in a calm voice that made your blood boil.

“The one who kept you alive last night.”

You stared at him, breath sharp.

“That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like a prisoner.”

Jungkook tilted his head.

“You are a prisoner.”

Your chest tightened.

“Of who?”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

“Of the situation,” he said.

You scoffed. “Nice excuse.”

He didn’t react.

Instead, he stood up, walking to the dresser. He opened a drawer and tossed something onto the bed.

A set of clothes.

A plain oversized shirt and sweatpants.

You stared at it.

“What is that?”

“Change,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes. “I didn’t ask for your clothes.”

Jungkook turned back to you.

“You’re not walking around my house in that dress.”

You blinked.

“Your house?”

He stepped closer.

“Our house.”

You clenched your fists.

“And who said I’m staying here long enough to need clothes?”

Jungkook’s gaze hardened.

“I did.”

Silence.

You swallowed hard.

“You’re not my owner.”

Jungkook walked closer until he was right beside the bed.

His voice lowered.

“Stop saying that.”

You glared up at him.

“Why? Because you don’t like hearing it?”

Jungkook’s jaw flexed.

“Because it makes me want to prove you wrong.”

Your heart skipped.

Your mouth went dry.

You held his gaze anyway.

“You can’t.”

Jungkook leaned down slightly.

“Try me.”

The words hit you like a shove.

You stared at him, breathing shallow.

Then you broke eye contact first, reaching for the clothes and storming toward the bathroom.

You slammed the door behind you.

You heard him laugh softly on the other side.

Not a warm laugh.

A satisfied one.

When you came out, Jungkook was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

He looked you up and down.

The shirt hung loose on you, covering your thighs. The sweatpants were too long.

You felt ridiculous.

But at least you felt less exposed.

Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Better.”

You glared.

“You sound like my father.”

Jungkook’s smile disappeared.

“What did you say?”

You froze slightly, then lifted your chin.

“I said you sound like my father.”

Jungkook stepped forward.

His voice sharpened.

“Don’t compare me to him.”

You scoffed. “Why? You’re just as controlling.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“I’m worse,” he said calmly.

Your blood ran cold.

Then he turned toward the door and unlocked it.

“Come,” he said.

You hesitated.

“Where?”

“Breakfast.”

You stared at him.

“I’m not hungry.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly.

“That wasn’t a question.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Stop ordering me around.”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

“You’ll get used to it.”

You clenched your jaw, but you followed.

Because you had no choice.

Two guards stood outside the door.

Armed.

Expressionless.

They nodded at Jungkook.

You stared at them, shocked.

They weren’t just security.

They looked like soldiers.

Jungkook didn’t even glance at them.

He simply walked down the hallway, and you followed, feeling their eyes on your back.

You reached the dining room.

It had been cleaned.

No broken glass.

No overturned chairs.

No blood.

Only the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air.

Like last night never happened.

But you knew it did.

Because the mansion felt quieter.

Like it was holding its breath.

Namjoon was already seated at the table.

Fresh coffee in front of him.

Tablet in hand.

He looked up when you entered.

His gaze flicked briefly to Jungkook.

Then back to you.

“Sit.”

You paused.

Jungkook pulled out a chair beside him.

Not across the table.

Beside.

Like he wanted to keep you close.

You ignored it and sat across from Namjoon instead.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he sat down anyway—right beside you.

Too close.

Jin entered next, hair still damp from a shower.

He looked fresh.

Too fresh.

Like he hadn’t been covered in blood hours ago.

He smiled brightly.

“Good morning, sister.”

You didn’t respond.

Jin sat down with exaggerated elegance.

Yoongi walked in after him, looking like he hadn’t slept either.

Hoseok followed, a bandage visible under his shirt.

Jimin came last, calm and quiet.

Taehyung strolled in like he was going to a party.

Taehyung’s eyes immediately found you.

He smiled.

“Morning, Y/N.”

You stared at him. “What?”

Taehyung shrugged.

“You look like you didn’t sleep.”

You replied flatly. “I wonder why.”

Jin laughed.

“Aw, she’s still angry.”

Yoongi muttered, “Of course she is.”

Namjoon set down his tablet.

“Enough,” he said.

Everyone went quiet.

Namjoon looked at you.

“We’re going to talk.”

You swallowed. “About what?”

Namjoon’s voice was calm.

“About what happens from now on.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair.

“She stays with me,” he said.

Namjoon ignored him.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“Hyung.”

Namjoon finally looked at him.

“If you interrupt me again,” Namjoon said evenly, “you can eat outside with the guards.”

Jungkook stared at him.

Then he smirked.

“Try it.”

Hoseok sighed. “Not now.”

Jin leaned in toward Namjoon.

“Just tell her the rules already. I’m hungry.”

Namjoon looked back at you.

“First rule,” Namjoon said. “You do not leave this estate.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Namjoon repeated, “You do not leave.”

You looked at your mother’s empty chair.

“And my mom?”

Hoseok answered.

“She’s resting. She’ll come down later.”

You clenched your fists.

“So she can leave?”

Namjoon replied, “No.”

Your heart dropped.

“You’re keeping her here too?”

Taehyung smiled faintly.

“We’re keeping everyone here.”

You snapped your gaze toward him.

“Why are you acting like this is normal?”

Taehyung shrugged. “Because it is.”

You swallowed hard.

Namjoon continued.

“Second rule,” he said. “No phones. No social media. No calls. No texts.”

You stared at him.

“That’s kidnapping.”

Yoongi spoke without looking up from his coffee.

“No,” he said. “Kidnapping is when you take someone who belongs to someone else.”

You felt your stomach twist.

Jimin finally spoke, voice quiet.

“You belong to danger now.”

You snapped your gaze to him.

“What does that even mean?”

Jimin’s expression didn’t change.

“It means Rossi won’t stop,” he said. “Not until you’re dead. Or in his hands.”

Jin added casually, “Or until he gets what he wants.”

You swallowed.

“And what does he want?”

Silence.

Then Namjoon answered.

“He wants the ledger.”

You frowned. “I already told you I don’t have it.”

Jungkook spoke immediately.

“She doesn’t.”

Namjoon glanced at him. “How would you know?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“Because she’s not smart enough to hide it.”

You whipped your head toward him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Jungkook smiled. “See? Not smart.”

Jin laughed loudly.

Hoseok groaned. “Jungkook…”

Taehyung leaned in.

“She’s smart enough to make you crazy,” Taehyung murmured.

Jungkook’s smile faded.

“Shut up.”

Taehyung only smiled wider.

Namjoon continued calmly.

“Third rule,” he said. “You don’t speak to the staff unless necessary.”

You blinked.

“What? Why?”

Yoongi answered.

“Because Rossi pays people.”

Jin added, “And because you’re a liability.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I’m not a liability.”

Jin smiled.

“You’re the biggest one in this house.”

You wanted to throw your glass at him.

Instead, you breathed through your anger.

Namjoon continued.

“Fourth rule,” he said. “You do not go anywhere alone.”

You stared.

“What? Like I’m a child?”

Namjoon didn’t react.

“You’ll be escorted. Always.”

You shook your head.

“This is insane.”

Jungkook muttered, “You should be grateful.”

You snapped your gaze to him.

“Grateful?! You locked me in your room!”

Jungkook leaned forward.

“And you’re alive.”

You slammed your palm on the table.

“That doesn’t make you a hero!”

The room went silent.

Even Jin stopped smiling.

Jungkook stared at you.

His eyes were dark.

Then he spoke quietly.

“You don’t know what happened last night.”

You glared.

“I saw enough.”

Jungkook’s jaw flexed.

“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”

You opened your mouth—

But Namjoon cut in.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

Then he looked at you.

“You’re angry. I understand. But you’re alive because we moved fast.”

You swallowed hard.

“And if I don’t follow your rules?”

Yoongi’s voice was calm.

“Then you die.”

Hoseok added softly, “Or worse.”

Your throat tightened.

“Worse than dying?”

Taehyung’s smile widened.

“Yes.”

You felt sick.

Jimin leaned forward slightly.

“Rossi is not like your father,” he said. “He doesn’t bargain.”

You whispered, “Then why did he send men here instead of coming himself?”

Jin answered instantly.

“Because he wanted to see how far we’d go for you.”

Your heart dropped.

“To test you?”

Jin shook his head.

“To test us.”

You looked around the table.

Their faces were calm.

Too calm.

Like they’d already accepted the war.

Like it was inevitable.

Namjoon spoke again.

“There’s another reason we’re doing this,” he said.

You swallowed. “What reason?”

Namjoon’s gaze sharpened.

“Because Rossi will think you’re valuable if you’re scared.”

You frowned. “That makes no sense.”

Yoongi explained.

“If you look disposable,” he said, “he’ll kill you. If you look protected, he’ll trade.”

You stared at him.

“So you’re using me as bait.”

Jungkook’s chair scraped back abruptly.

He stood up.

“Don’t,” he said.

His voice was low.

Threatening.

You stared at him.

“What? That’s exactly what this is.”

Jungkook stepped closer to the table.

“You’re not bait.”

You scoffed. “Then what am I?”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“You’re ours.”

The words made your stomach twist.

Namjoon’s expression tightened.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t care.

He looked straight at you.

“Don’t ever call yourself bait again,” he said.

Your breath hitched.

“Why?”

Jungkook’s voice lowered.

“Because bait is meant to be sacrificed.”

You swallowed.

“And I’m not,” he finished.

Silence filled the room.

Hoseok looked down.

Jimin stared at his plate.

Taehyung smiled faintly.

Yoongi’s jaw clenched.

Jin’s expression was unreadable.

Namjoon finally spoke.

“You’re not being sacrificed,” Namjoon said. “You’re being guarded.”

You whispered, “What’s the difference?”

Namjoon’s gaze held yours.

“The difference,” he said, “is that we don’t lose what belongs to us.”

Your blood ran cold.

Your voice cracked.

“Stop saying that. I don’t belong to you.”

Jin leaned his cheek on his hand.

“You’re really obsessed with that line.”

You snapped at him.

“Because it’s true.”

Jin smiled.

“And yet you’re still sitting here.”

You glared.

“Because you won’t let me leave!”

Jin hummed.

“Exactly.”

You clenched your fists, shaking.

Then you heard footsteps.

Soft.

Familiar.

Your mother entered the dining room.

She looked exhausted.

Her eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying.

Her hair was slightly messy.

But she forced a smile when she saw you.

“Y/N…”

Relief hit you so hard you nearly cried.

You stood up immediately.

“Mom!”

You rushed to her.

She hugged you tightly.

So tightly.

Like she was afraid you’d vanish.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

Your mother’s hands trembled as she cupped your face.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head.

“No. But—Mom, we need to leave.”

Your mother froze.

Her eyes flickered nervously toward Jeon Kangtae’s empty chair.

Then toward Namjoon.

Then toward Jungkook.

And the way she looked at them…

It made your stomach sink.

Because she looked afraid of them.

Not Rossi.

Them.

Your mother swallowed.

“Y/N…” she whispered.

You pulled back slightly.

“What? What is it?”

Your mother’s voice dropped.

“We can’t.”

Your blood went cold.

“What do you mean we can’t?”

Your mother’s lips trembled.

“They said it’s not safe,” she whispered.

You stared at her.

“Mom. They’re keeping us locked in this house.”

Your mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“I know,” she whispered.

You felt like your heart cracked.

“Then why are you agreeing?”

Your mother looked away.

Then she whispered the words that shattered your chest completely.

“Because Jeon Kangtae told me… if I try to take you away, he’ll hand you to Rossi himself.”

Silence.

Your lungs stopped working.

You stared at her, unable to breathe.

“What…?”

Your mother’s voice broke.

“He said Rossi offered him a deal,” she whispered. “A business deal. And he said… he said if I disobey him…”

Her eyes lifted to yours.

“…you’ll pay for it.”

Your knees went weak.

You stumbled backward.

And suddenly the room felt smaller.

Hotter.

Like the walls were closing in.

Namjoon’s jaw tightened.

Hoseok muttered, “Father…”

Jin’s smile disappeared completely.

Yoongi’s eyes turned murderous.

Taehyung’s gaze darkened.

Jimin’s face went cold.

Jungkook…

Jungkook looked like he wanted to kill someone.

His hands clenched into fists.

“What deal?” Jungkook demanded.

Your mother flinched at his tone.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok warned quietly.

Your mother swallowed hard.

“He said Rossi wants the girl,” she whispered. “And he said… he said if Rossi doesn’t get her soon, he’ll take her by force.”

You felt sick.

Your voice cracked.

“So my stepfather is willing to sell me.”

Your mother started crying.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know he was like this. I swear I didn’t—”

You stepped toward her again, gripping her arms.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered.

But it didn’t feel true.

Because you were here.

Because she married him.

Because you were trapped.

And then Namjoon spoke.

His voice was calm.

Cold.

But dangerous.

“My father made a deal with Rossi,” Namjoon said quietly.

Jin muttered, “I’ll kill him.”

Hoseok snapped, “Jin—”

Jin’s eyes turned sharp.

“No. I mean it.”

Yoongi stood up slowly.

“He’ll hand her over,” Yoongi said.

Taehyung’s smile vanished.

“He’ll betray us,” Taehyung murmured.

Jimin’s voice was soft.

“He already has.”

And Jungkook…

Jungkook stepped forward, stopping in front of you.

His gaze locked on your face.

His voice lowered.

“Do you understand now?”

You stared at him.

“Understand what?”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“That the danger isn’t Rossi,” he said.

Then his gaze flickered toward the hallway.

Toward the rest of the house.

“Your danger is my father.”

Your blood ran cold.

Jungkook stepped closer.

He didn’t touch you this time.

But his presence was overwhelming.

And his voice was quieter.

Almost gentle.

“If you leave this house,” he murmured, “you die.”

You swallowed hard.

“And if I stay?”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth.

Then back to your eyes.

“Then you live,” he said.

A pause.

Then he added—

“But you belong to us.”

Your stomach twisted again.

You shook your head.

“No. No, I don’t.”

Jungkook’s gaze sharpened.

“Yes,” he whispered. “You do.”

Namjoon’s voice cut in.

“Enough.”

Jungkook didn’t look away from you.

Namjoon continued.

“She’s scared. Stop pushing her.”

Jungkook finally turned to Namjoon.

“Scared is good,” he said.

Jimin spoke quietly.

“Scared means she won’t run.”

Your breath caught.

You stared at Jimin.

He didn’t even look ashamed.

Like he’d said something obvious.

Your hands trembled.

Your mother clung to you again, crying softly.

And in that moment…

You realized something terrifying.

None of them were trying to help you escape.

They were trying to make sure you stayed.

Namjoon spoke again, voice calm.

“Y/N,” he said. “You will stay on the third floor. You will have guards. You will not go near the outer gates. You will not contact anyone outside.”

You whispered, “You’re imprisoning me.”

Namjoon’s eyes darkened.

“We’re protecting you.”

You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered. “You’re keeping me.”

Taehyung smiled.

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched.

Namjoon glanced at Taehyung sharply.

Taehyung only shrugged.

“What?” Taehyung said. “It’s true.”

Jin leaned forward, voice softer now.

“Y/N,” he said, “you don’t understand the kind of men we are.”

You stared at him.

Jin’s smile returned—slow, dangerous.

“We don’t let go of things once they’re ours.”

Your stomach churned.

Hoseok looked away like he didn’t like hearing it said out loud.

Yoongi stared at you with a cold expression.

Jimin watched you like he was memorizing every reaction.

Taehyung looked entertained.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook stepped closer again.

His voice dropped.

“You smell like you want to run,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened.

“What?”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

“But you won’t,” he murmured.

Then he leaned in slightly.

“Because you’re starting to realize…”

His gaze flicked to your lips.

“…that there’s nowhere safer than inside our hands.”

Your throat tightened.

You whispered, “You’re all sick.”

Jungkook smiled.

“Yes,” he said softly.

Then he added—

“And you’re still here.”

Your breath caught.

Your mother clutched your hand tightly.

And you realized…

This wasn’t a family dinner table.

This was a courtroom.

And the verdict had already been decided.

You were staying.

Five: Locked Doors, Open Hunger

The mansion didn’t feel like a mansion anymore.

It felt like a battlefield dressed in gold.

Even underground, you could hear it—footsteps above, hurried and heavy. Shouting. Orders being barked. Radios crackling. The occasional metallic clang of weapons being moved.

The Jeon estate was still standing.

But something inside it had shifted.

Like the house had finally shown you what it truly was.

Not a home.

A fortress.

And you were the reason it had been tested.

The bunker lights flickered once more before stabilizing. Dust still floated in the air, clinging to the edges of the monitors like ghostly ash.

You stood in the middle of seven men.

Seven stepbrothers.

Seven predators.

And Jungkook’s arm was still around your waist, firm and possessive like a restraint disguised as protection.

You hated how natural it felt.

Hated how your body hadn’t fought it harder.

Hated how your pulse still raced from his words.

If you leave… I won’t be able to breathe again.

That wasn’t love.

That wasn’t care.

That was something sick.

Something dangerous.

Something that would swallow you whole.

Namjoon lowered his gun slightly, his eyes fixed on the monitor screens. His jaw clenched as he watched the last camera feed.

Outside, men lay motionless on the grass.

The security lights made the blood look black.

Jin pressed the radio to his mouth.

“Report,” he said calmly.

A crackle.

Then a voice came through.

“Perimeter cleared. Two guards injured. One dead.”

Your stomach lurched.

One dead.

Jin’s expression didn’t change.

“Clean it up,” he replied, as if he’d ordered someone to wipe spilled wine.

Then he ended the transmission.

Your skin crawled.

Hoseok sat on the edge of one of the cots, pressing a cloth against his side. He looked pale, but his eyes were still alert.

Jimin hovered near the doorway like he was guarding it, his posture calm but tense. Taehyung leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking like this entire night had been a thrilling performance.

Yoongi stood by the shelves, reloading a gun with slow, practiced movements.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook didn’t stop touching you.

His hand remained at your waist.

His fingers occasionally flexed, like he was reassuring himself you were still there.

Still real.

Still his.

You tried to step away.

His grip tightened immediately.

A warning.

Your breath caught.

You turned your head slightly, glaring at him.

“Let go.”

Jungkook’s eyes slid to your face.

His gaze was heavy.

Dark.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened.

“Jungkook—”

Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Enough.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t move.

Namjoon stepped closer.

His voice was calm, but his authority was absolute.

“She needs space.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“No,” he said.

The word was sharp.

Possessive.

Taehyung’s lips curved.

Yoongi scoffed quietly.

Jin raised an eyebrow like he was enjoying the confrontation.

Hoseok exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.

Jimin’s gaze flickered toward Jungkook, his expression unreadable.

Namjoon stepped closer until he was right in front of Jungkook.

“You’re not the only one who can protect her,” Namjoon said quietly.

Jungkook’s grip tightened around your waist.

You felt it.

The possessiveness.

The rage.

His chest rose and fell like a caged animal.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.

“And you’re not the only one who wants her,” Namjoon added.

Silence fell.

Your blood ran cold.

You turned your head sharply, staring at Namjoon.

What did he mean by that?

But Namjoon didn’t look at you.

His gaze was locked on Jungkook.

Like the two of them were speaking in a language you weren’t meant to understand.

Jungkook’s lips curled.

“You want her?” Jungkook asked, voice low.

Namjoon didn’t deny it.

He only said, “I want her alive.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“As do I,” he said.

Namjoon’s gaze sharpened.

“Then act like it.”

For a moment, you thought Jungkook might actually snap.

Might actually swing.

But instead, he slowly loosened his grip.

His hand slid away from your waist.

You exhaled shakily, stepping back immediately.

But even with space between you, Jungkook didn’t stop watching.

His eyes tracked every movement you made.

Like if you breathed wrong, he’d pull you back.

Namjoon turned to you.

“Listen carefully,” he said.

His tone wasn’t unkind.

But it wasn’t gentle either.

It was the voice of someone used to being obeyed.

“This estate is on lockdown. No one leaves. No one enters. Not without my approval.”

You swallowed.

“Where’s my mom?” you asked.

Hoseok spoke this time.

“She’s safe,” he said. “Still in the west bunker.”

Your shoulders sagged slightly.

Relief flooded your chest.

But it didn’t last long.

Because Namjoon continued.

“Rossi’s men didn’t come here just to intimidate us,” he said.

Jin smiled faintly.

“They came to collect you,” Jin added.

Your stomach twisted violently.

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to Jin, a warning in his eyes.

Jin only smiled wider.

“What?” Jin said. “It’s the truth.”

Yoongi’s voice was flat.

“Your father made a deal,” he said.

You blinked.

“What deal?” you whispered.

Yoongi stared at you like you were slow.

“The kind of deal men make when they’re desperate,” he replied.

Taehyung chuckled.

“Your father didn’t just steal from Rossi,” he said softly. “He stole something important.”

You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered. “He didn’t… he wouldn’t—”

Jimin’s voice interrupted, calm but chilling.

“He would.”

Your throat tightened.

Your heart hammered.

“What did he steal?” you asked.

Namjoon’s gaze darkened.

“A ledger,” he said. “A list of names. Buyers. Deals. Politicians. Cops. Judges.”

Your skin went cold.

A list like that could destroy an empire.

Your father…

Your father had been suicidal.

“And now Rossi thinks you have it,” Namjoon continued.

You swallowed hard.

“I don’t.”

Jin shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Rossi doesn’t need truth. He needs leverage.”

You felt sick.

You stumbled back until your knees hit the cot.

You sat down, hands trembling.

“So what now?” you whispered.

Namjoon’s gaze held yours.

“Now,” he said, “we keep you hidden.”

Your stomach dropped.

Hidden.

Like you were contraband.

Like you were something illegal.

Something to lock away.

Jungkook stepped forward.

“No,” he said sharply.

Namjoon looked at him.

“What?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to you.

Then back to Namjoon.

“We don’t hide her,” Jungkook said.

His voice was low, dangerous.

“We keep her close.”

Your heart skipped.

Jimin’s lips curved slightly.

Taehyung’s eyes gleamed.

Yoongi muttered, “Here we go.”

Hoseok’s expression tightened.

Jin’s smile turned slow and sharp.

Namjoon’s gaze hardened.

“Explain,” Namjoon said.

Jungkook stepped closer to you.

Too close.

Your breath hitched.

His voice lowered.

“If Rossi wants her,” he murmured, “he’ll send more men.”

Then Jungkook’s eyes flickered over you again.

Slow.

Possessive.

“And if she’s out of my sight…”

His jaw clenched.

“…I’ll kill everyone in this house.”

The words weren’t dramatic.

They were fact.

You stared at him, horrified.

“You’re insane,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you.

His gaze softened for a fraction of a second.

Then hardened again.

“I know,” he replied.

Namjoon stepped forward abruptly.

“No,” he said. “She stays in the center hallway room. Two doors away from mine. With security outside.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“She stays with me.”

Namjoon’s voice sharpened.

“She’s not your toy.”

Jungkook’s lips curled.

“She’s not yours either.”

And suddenly, the air shifted.

This wasn’t about protection anymore.

This was about ownership.

Your stomach twisted.

You pushed yourself to your feet.

“Stop,” you snapped, voice shaking. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

Silence.

All eyes turned to you.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly.

“I’m not a prize,” you continued, voice trembling but fierce. “I’m not something you can pass around like a trophy.”

Jin’s smile softened.

Taehyung’s eyes brightened.

Jimin stared like he was fascinated.

Hoseok looked conflicted.

Yoongi’s gaze narrowed.

Namjoon didn’t look surprised.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook looked amused.

That was what made your blood boil.

Because he wasn’t ashamed.

He wasn’t apologetic.

He looked like he liked your anger.

Like it made you more interesting.

Jungkook stepped closer.

His voice dropped.

“But you are,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

“What?” you whispered.

Jungkook leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath.

“You’re a trophy,” he said softly.

His eyes flicked down to your lips.

“And you’re a target.”

Then his gaze lifted again.

“And you’re a temptation.”

Your skin prickled.

Your heart hammered.

Jungkook inhaled slowly.

And his expression changed.

That familiar flicker of hunger.

Of obsession.

Of addiction.

“You smell like you’re mine,” he whispered.

The words made your stomach flip.

You took a shaky step back.

But he followed.

Cornering you again.

Always cornering you.

Your back hit the wall.

Jungkook placed one hand beside your head, caging you in.

His other hand hovered near your waist but didn’t touch.

Not yet.

Namjoon’s voice cut in sharply.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t look away from you.

“Stay out of this,” he said.

Namjoon stepped closer.

“You’re not thinking straight.”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

“I’ve never thought straight,” he murmured.

Then he looked at you again.

His voice lowered into something that felt like a confession.

“I can’t breathe when you’re not close.”

Your throat tightened.

You whispered, “That’s not normal.”

Jungkook smiled.

“It is for me.”

Then he stepped back abruptly, as if forcing himself away.

He turned to Namjoon.

“She’s staying in my room,” he said.

Namjoon’s jaw tightened.

“No.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed.

“Yes.”

Yoongi finally spoke, voice cold.

“If she stays with you,” Yoongi said, “you’ll touch her.”

Your cheeks burned.

Your heart lurched.

Jungkook didn’t deny it.

He only smiled.

And that smile terrified you.

Jimin stepped forward, voice calm.

“Then she should stay with me.”

Your blood froze.

You turned sharply toward Jimin.

His expression was still composed.

But his eyes…

His eyes were hungry too.

Not wild like Jungkook’s.

Not cold like Yoongi’s.

Not amused like Taehyung’s.

Jimin’s hunger was soft.

Beautiful.

The kind that lured you in before swallowing you whole.

Namjoon’s gaze sharpened.

“No,” Namjoon said.

Jin chuckled.

“Why don’t we vote?” Jin suggested.

Hoseok frowned.

“This isn’t funny.”

Jin tilted his head.

“Oh, it’s hilarious.”

Taehyung smiled.

“Let her decide,” Taehyung murmured.

Your chest tightened.

They all looked at you.

Waiting.

Like they expected you to choose.

As if you had a choice at all.

Your throat felt dry.

“I want to stay with my mother,” you said.

Silence.

Then Jin laughed.

Taehyung’s smile deepened.

Yoongi shook his head slightly like you were naïve.

Jimin’s gaze softened, almost pitying.

Namjoon looked away like he’d expected that answer.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook stepped closer again.

His eyes locked onto yours.

And the look in them made your blood freeze.

Because it wasn’t anger.

It was certainty.

“No,” he said.

One word.

Final.

You swallowed hard.

“Jungkook—”

He grabbed your wrist again.

Not rough enough to bruise.

But rough enough to remind you that you were smaller.

Weaker.

Trapped.

And then he started walking toward the bunker door, dragging you with him.

You stumbled.

“Let go!” you snapped.

Jungkook didn’t stop.

Namjoon barked, “Jungkook!”

Jungkook glanced over his shoulder.

“She’s staying with me,” he repeated.

Then he added, voice lower—

“If you try to take her from me, I’ll break your jaw.”

Silence.

Even Namjoon froze.

Jin’s eyebrows lifted.

Taehyung looked delighted.

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened.

Hoseok swore softly.

Jimin’s expression darkened.

And you—

You stared at Jungkook in horror.

Because he’d just threatened his own brother.

For you.

You were dragged up the stairs.

The steel door unlocked.

The hidden passageway opened.

The air upstairs hit you like smoke and gunpowder.

The mansion hallway was dim, lit only by emergency lights.

There were bullet holes in the walls.

Broken glass everywhere.

Blood stains on the marble floor.

Your stomach twisted.

Bodies had been dragged away, but the smell lingered.

Metallic.

Warm.

Wrong.

Jungkook didn’t slow down.

He pulled you through the corridor, past shattered windows, past overturned furniture, past guards carrying weapons.

Everyone moved aside when they saw him.

Not because they respected him.

Because they feared him.

You glanced behind you once.

And saw Namjoon watching.

His expression was dark.

Controlled.

But his eyes…

His eyes looked like they promised consequences.

Jungkook dragged you up the staircase to the third floor.

The hallway was silent now.

Too silent.

The doors along the corridor looked like mouths closed tightly, hiding secrets.

He shoved open his bedroom door.

And pulled you inside.

Then he slammed it shut.

Locked it.

The click echoed in the room like a gunshot.

Your blood turned to ice.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice trembling, “open the door.”

He didn’t respond.

Instead, he leaned his forehead against the door for a moment.

Breathing hard.

Like he’d been running on rage alone.

Then he turned to face you.

And his eyes…

His eyes were darker than ever.

Like the attack had awakened something in him.

Something violent.

Something primal.

His gaze dropped to your throat.

Your lips.

Then he inhaled.

Slow.

Deep.

Your skin prickled.

He started walking toward you.

You backed up instinctively until your legs hit the edge of his bed.

You nearly fell, catching yourself with your hands.

Jungkook stopped a few feet away.

His voice was quiet.

“Do you know what Rossi does to girls like you?”

Your stomach clenched.

You shook your head quickly.

“No.”

Jungkook’s lips curled.

“He sells them,” he murmured. “Breaks them. Makes them scream until their voices are gone.”

You felt sick.

Tears stung your eyes.

“And do you know what my father would do?” Jungkook continued.

You swallowed.

“What?”

Jungkook stepped closer.

His voice lowered.

“He’d give you away to keep himself safe.”

Your chest tightened.

Your voice broke.

“No… he wouldn’t.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed.

“You don’t know him,” he hissed.

Then his gaze softened slightly.

But it wasn’t kindness.

It was obsession.

“And do you know what I would do?” he whispered.

You couldn’t speak.

Your throat was too tight.

Jungkook leaned in.

Close enough that you could smell him again.

Blood.

Soap.

Heat.

Something dangerous underneath.

He brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

Gentle.

But it made you shiver harder than violence.

“I would kill them all,” he whispered.

Then he leaned closer, his mouth near your ear.

“I’d kill my father too,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched.

He pulled back, eyes locked onto yours.

“And I’d still keep you.”

A sob almost escaped you.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

Jungkook stared at you.

And for a second…

For one second…

You saw something raw in him.

Something wounded.

Something that made him look less like a monster and more like a boy drowning in his own darkness.

Then his expression hardened again.

And he said the truth.

“Because you smell like you belong to me.”

The words slammed into you.

You shook your head.

“That’s not—”

Jungkook grabbed your waist.

Pulled you off balance.

You gasped as your body collided with his.

Chest to chest.

Heat to heat.

Your hands pressed against his chest instinctively.

He was solid.

Hard.

Warm.

His hand slid up your back, holding you tightly.

And then he inhaled again, burying his face into your neck.

Not kissing.

Just breathing you in.

Like he was starving.

You froze completely.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jungkook’s voice came out muffled against your skin.

“I can’t stop,” he admitted.

Your body trembled.

Your lips parted.

“Jungkook…”

He lifted his head.

His eyes were wild.

And you could see it.

The fight inside him.

The restraint.

The obsession.

He wanted to do something.

Wanted to cross a line.

But he was holding himself back with sheer force.

His thumb brushed your lower lip.

And your breath hitched again.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His eyes darkened.

His voice dropped into a whisper.

“You’re reacting.”

Your cheeks burned.

“No,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s grip tightened.

“Don’t lie,” he murmured.

He leaned in.

His lips hovered over yours.

You froze.

Every nerve in your body screamed.

Fear.

Anger.

Heat.

Confusion.

And then—

A knock.

Hard.

Loud.

Namjoon’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Jungkook. Open it.”

Jungkook didn’t move.

His gaze stayed on your lips.

Like he didn’t even hear his brother.

Namjoon knocked again.

“Now.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

And whispered so softly it felt like a secret meant to stain you forever.

“Next time…”

His lips brushed yours.

Barely.

Not a kiss.

A promise.

“…no one will stop me.”

Your breath shattered.

Jungkook stepped back.

Then he turned, walked to the door, and unlocked it.

Namjoon entered immediately.

His gaze flickered to you.

Then to Jungkook.

His expression was cold.

Controlled.

But his voice was sharp.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

Jungkook smiled.

“Maybe,” he said.

Namjoon stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“She’s terrified.”

Jungkook glanced at you.

And for a moment, his eyes softened.

Then he spoke quietly.

“She’s alive.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened.

“That’s not the only thing that matters.”

Jungkook’s smile faded.

His voice turned dark.

“It is to me.”

Namjoon stared at him.

Then his gaze shifted to you.

“Y/N,” Namjoon said calmly, “I’m assigning guards outside this door. You are not leaving this hallway.”

Your chest tightened.

“I want my mom,” you whispered.

Namjoon’s eyes softened slightly.

“You’ll see her in the morning,” he said. “Tonight, you stay here.”

You looked between them.

Your stomach twisted.

Tonight.

Here.

In Jungkook’s room.

Alone.

With him.

Jungkook stepped closer to you again, his hand brushing your waist lightly.

Not gripping.

Just touching.

Claiming.

You flinched.

He noticed.

His eyes darkened.

But he didn’t stop.

Instead, he whispered near your ear—

“You’re safe.”

You swallowed.

Your voice trembled.

“I don’t feel safe.”

Jungkook’s lips curved.

“That’s because you’re smart,” he murmured.

Then he added, voice low—

“But you’ll get used to me.”

Namjoon’s gaze snapped to Jungkook.

“That’s enough.”

Namjoon turned to leave, then paused at the door.

He looked back once.

And his voice dropped into something that made your skin crawl.

“If you touch her,” Namjoon warned Jungkook, “I’ll bury you myself.”

Then he left.

The door closed.

And the lock clicked again.

Silence filled the room.

You stood frozen.

Your hands shaking.

Your heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Jungkook stared at you.

Then he walked to the window, pulling the curtains closed.

The room darkened.

He turned back to you slowly.

His voice was quiet.

“You should sleep.”

You swallowed.

“I can’t.”

Jungkook stepped closer again.

Slow.

Unhurried.

Like a man approaching something he’d been craving for too long.

He stopped in front of you.

His hand lifted.

He brushed your hair away from your face.

Gentle.

Too gentle.

It didn’t match the monster you knew he was.

Then he whispered:

“I’ll stay awake.”

Your breath caught.

“What?”

Jungkook’s eyes locked onto yours.

“I’ll watch you,” he murmured.

His voice was low, intimate.

“Like a guard dog.”

Then he leaned closer.

“And if you have nightmares…”

His lips hovered near your forehead.

“…I’ll make them regret it.”

Your throat tightened.

You didn’t know whether to cry or scream.

Because the truth was clear now.

The attack didn’t make Jungkook more protective.

It made him worse.

More possessive.

More obsessive.

Like Rossi’s men had only proven something Jungkook already believed.

That you were something worth killing for.

Something worth destroying for.

Something worth keeping.

No matter what it cost you.

And as you stood there trembling in the darkness of his room…

You realized something horrifying.

The danger wasn’t outside the estate.

The danger was in the bed behind you.

Four: Seven Wolves, One Cage

Time didn’t move normally in the bunker.

It stretched.

It twisted.

It turned seconds into eternities.

You didn’t know how long you sat on the cold floor after Jungkook left—your knees drawn to your chest, your mind spiraling, your body still humming with the memory of his breath against your skin.

You hated him.

You hated all of them.

But your heartbeat still hadn’t slowed.

And worse…

Your scent still lingered in the air.

You could smell yourself—fear, sweat, warmth.

And you could almost imagine Jungkook’s voice again.

You smell like temptation.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake it away.

Trying to hold onto anger.

Because anger was safer than whatever else was growing inside you.

Whatever twisted thing that felt like curiosity.

Or craving.

Or—

A sharp beep from the monitor table made you jolt.

You scrambled to your feet, breath catching, heart racing.

The screens flickered again.

More movement outside.

The gardens were lit by harsh security lights now, shadows running across the estate like ghosts with guns.

You saw bodies.

Men in black masks.

Some were crawling. Some weren’t moving at all.

Blood smeared the stone path near the fountain.

Your stomach turned violently.

You pressed a trembling hand over your mouth, swallowing back bile.

This wasn’t a threat anymore.

This was a war.

And you were the reason it started.

A loud thud hit the bunker door.

You screamed.

Then froze.

Another thud.

Harder.

Someone was banging on it.

Your whole body locked.

You stumbled back, eyes wide, breath sharp.

Then a voice cut through the steel.

“Y/N!”

Namjoon.

You recognized it instantly.

Deep.

Controlled.

But strained.

Your lungs collapsed in relief.

You rushed toward the door, hands shaking.

“Namjoon?” you called, voice cracking. “Namjoon, is that you?”

The keypad beeped.

The lock clicked.

The door swung open.

And Namjoon stepped inside.

He looked nothing like he did at dinner.

His expensive suit jacket was gone. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, smeared with blood that didn’t look like his. A cut ran across his cheekbone, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them.

Not cruel.

Not bored.

This was something else.

This was a man who had just killed.

He shut the door behind him and locked it again.

Then he looked at you.

And the silence between you was suffocating.

Your lips parted.

You didn’t know what to say.

Thank you?

Are you okay?

Why am I here?

Why do you all hate me?

Why are you protecting me?

Why does it feel like you’re not protecting me at all?

Namjoon walked forward slowly, gaze scanning you like he was checking for injuries.

“You’re not hurt,” he said finally.

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed.

“No.”

He nodded once, as if that was all that mattered.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Cracked screen.

He tapped it quickly, then spoke into it.

“She’s safe.”

A pause.

Then his jaw tightened.

He glanced at you again.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Still breathing.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone away.

You hugged yourself, arms wrapped tight around your body.

“What’s happening upstairs?” you asked.

Namjoon’s gaze hardened.

“They breached the outer gate,” he said.

Your blood turned cold.

“They’re inside?”

Namjoon didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes flicked toward the monitors.

Then back to you.

“Not anymore,” he said quietly.

The way he said it made your skin crawl.

Because it didn’t sound like relief.

It sounded like certainty.

Like he’d already decided none of them would leave alive.

A sudden burst of static came from the radio.

Namjoon reached for it immediately.

“Jin?” he said.

Jin’s voice came through—breathing hard.

“We’re moving Elle now,” Jin said. “Hoseok got grazed.”

Your heart jumped.

“Hoseok is hurt?” you blurted.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your concern amused him.

Jin continued, “Yoongi’s outside. Taehyung’s with him. Jimin’s… distracted.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened.

“Distracted?” he repeated.

A pause.

Then Jin’s voice lowered.

“He found one of Rossi’s men alive.”

Your stomach dropped.

Oh God.

You didn’t want to know what that meant.

Namjoon’s expression darkened.

“Keep him under control,” he ordered.

Then he ended the call.

You stared at Namjoon, your breathing shallow.

“What did they want?” you whispered.

Namjoon’s eyes lifted to yours.

And for the first time, you saw something unsettling.

Not hatred.

Not cruelty.

Possession.

“They wanted you,” he said simply.

Your throat tightened.

“Why?” you asked, voice shaking.

Namjoon stepped closer.

His presence filled the room like smoke.

“Because Rossi doesn’t forgive betrayal,” he said. “And because your father made you a bargaining chip.”

Your nails dug into your palms.

“I didn’t do anything,” you whispered.

Namjoon’s gaze didn’t soften.

“I know,” he replied.

Then he leaned slightly forward, voice quieter.

“But you’re still the price.”

A chill ran through you.

Before you could respond, the bunker door opened again.

This time, Jin walked in.

And he looked like sin wrapped in blood.

His white dress shirt was stained at the collar. His knuckles were bruised. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he’d been fighting.

But his face…

His face still held that smile.

That perfect, maddening smile that made you want to scream.

“Well,” Jin said lightly, stepping inside, “there you are.”

He looked you up and down, slow and deliberate.

Then he hummed.

“Still pretty,” he murmured.

Your stomach twisted.

You took a step back instinctively.

Jin’s smile widened.

“Aww,” he teased. “Are you scared of me?”

Namjoon didn’t look amused.

“Stop,” he warned.

Jin raised his hands innocently. “I’m just checking on our new sister.”

He turned his head slightly toward you.

“Sister,” he repeated, tasting the word.

Then he chuckled.

“But you don’t feel like one.”

Your cheeks burned.

You clenched your jaw.

“Where’s my mother?” you demanded.

Jin’s gaze flickered.

His smile softened slightly—only slightly.

“She’s alive,” he said. “Relax.”

The way he said relax made you want to slap him.

Then the bunker door opened again.

Yoongi stepped inside.

And the air changed instantly.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

His black shirt was torn at the shoulder, revealing a streak of blood along his collarbone. He didn’t look injured enough for it to be his own.

His eyes were cold.

Dead.

Like whatever he’d done outside had emptied him out.

Taehyung followed behind him, wiping his hands with a cloth.

Not because they were dirty.

Because they were stained.

Taehyung looked at you and smiled.

Not kindly.

Not warmly.

But like you were the reason his night had become entertaining.

“You’re alive,” Taehyung said softly.

You didn’t answer.

Your throat felt sealed shut.

Yoongi walked past you without a word, heading to the supply shelves.

He grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap, and drank like nothing mattered.

Then he glanced at you over the bottle.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You’re shaking,” he said flatly.

You swallowed.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

Yoongi scoffed.

“No,” he said. “You’re scared.”

Then he took another drink and added coldly—

“You should be.”

Your blood froze.

Jin laughed quietly.

“Yoongi, don’t scare her too much,” he teased. “We need her to stay sane.”

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened.

“Do we?” he muttered.

Namjoon stepped forward, voice low.

“Enough.”

Taehyung leaned against the wall, still watching you like you were a new pet.

Then he spoke.

“Rossi sent twenty men,” he said casually.

You blinked.

Twenty.

Your stomach lurched.

“Twenty?” you whispered.

Taehyung nodded.

“Only five left breathing,” he added.

Your body went numb.

Jin smiled wider.

“Four,” Jin corrected.

Taehyung shrugged. “Oh. Four.”

You stared at them in horror.

Four men alive.

That meant…

Sixteen dead.

Your knees almost buckled.

And they were saying it like it was nothing.

Like killing was normal.

Like death was dinner conversation.

You backed away until you hit the table again.

Namjoon’s eyes flickered toward you.

He noticed.

He always noticed.

He sighed slightly, then spoke in a calmer tone.

“Sit down,” he said.

It wasn’t a suggestion.

It was an order.

You hesitated.

Then sat, because the way his voice carried authority made your body obey before your pride could protest.

Jin leaned closer to you.

“So,” he murmured. “Do you understand now?”

You glared at him.

“Understand what?” you whispered.

Jin’s voice softened into something almost tender.

“That you can’t survive without us.”

The words hit you like poison.

You opened your mouth—

But before you could speak, the bunker door swung open again.

And this time…

Hoseok stumbled inside.

His smile was gone.

His face was pale, and blood stained the side of his shirt near his ribs.

Jin’s expression changed instantly.

Namjoon stepped forward.

“Hoseok.”

Hoseok waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice strained.

Then he looked at you.

And for the first time since you’d met him…

There was no amusement in his eyes.

Only something sharp.

Protective.

Possessive.

“You’re okay,” Hoseok said quietly.

You nodded, throat tight.

Hoseok exhaled.

Then he smiled again—faint, broken.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’d hate to lose you already.”

The words made your stomach twist.

Lose you.

Already.

Like you were something they expected to keep.

Then—

A final presence entered.

Jimin.

He stepped inside silently, shutting the door behind him.

His sleeves were rolled up.

His hands were stained.

Not fully bloody.

But enough.

His expression was calm.

Too calm.

He walked past the others without a word.

Then stopped in front of you.

Your breath caught.

He stared at you like he was trying to memorize your face.

Like he was reminding himself what he was fighting for.

And that thought alone terrified you.

Jimin leaned down.

His fingers brushed your cheek gently.

You flinched.

He paused.

Then his thumb traced your skin, feather-light.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered.

Your breath trembled.

“Why?” you whispered back. “Why are you all doing this?”

Jimin’s lips curved.

But it wasn’t sweet.

It was dark.

“Because they want you,” he murmured.

His eyes flicked toward Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung.

Then back to you.

“And we don’t share.”

Your blood ran cold.

Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Silence.

Jimin straightened slowly.

His gaze shifted away.

Taehyung hummed.

Yoongi’s jaw clenched.

Jin’s smile faded slightly.

Hoseok’s eyes darkened.

Your stomach dropped.

“What?” you whispered. “Where is he?”

No one answered you.

And that silence…

That silence was louder than gunfire.

Namjoon’s voice turned sharp.

“Jimin.”

Jimin finally spoke.

“He’s still upstairs.”

Your breath caught.

“Doing what?” Namjoon demanded.

Jimin’s eyes flickered.

Then he said quietly—

“He went after the one Rossi man we kept alive.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your mouth went dry.

Jin’s lips parted, then he chuckled softly.

“Oh,” he said. “He’s going to be messy.”

Namjoon swore under his breath.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed.

“He’ll lose control,” Yoongi muttered.

Taehyung smiled, eyes glittering.

“Or maybe he already did.”

Hoseok’s voice was low.

“He’s too obsessed,” Hoseok said.

The word slammed into the bunker air like a confession.

Obsessed.

Your chest tightened.

With who?

You already knew.

The bunker door suddenly opened again.

Hard.

Fast.

And Jungkook stepped inside.

The room went silent instantly.

He was breathing hard.

His hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead.

His shirt was stained with blood—splattered across his chest and arms like paint.

And his eyes…

His eyes were wild.

Not like before.

Not like cruel teasing.

This was different.

This was the look of a man who had crossed a line.

A man who had tasted violence and couldn’t stop.

Jungkook shut the door behind him and locked it.

Then he turned.

And his gaze landed on you.

You froze.

Because he didn’t look at anyone else.

Not his brothers.

Not Namjoon.

Not Jin.

Not Yoongi.

Not even Hoseok bleeding in the corner.

Only you.

Like you were the only thing that mattered.

He started walking toward you.

Your heart slammed.

Your body tensed.

But you didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

Jungkook stopped in front of you.

His eyes raked over your face, your shoulders, your arms.

Checking.

Scanning.

Like he was searching for proof you were still alive.

Then he exhaled sharply.

His voice came out rough.

“You’re okay.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was relief.

Possessive relief.

You swallowed hard.

“What happened?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached down, grabbed your wrist, and yanked you to your feet.

You gasped.

“Jungkook!” Namjoon barked.

Jungkook didn’t look away from you.

His fingers tightened around your wrist.

And you realized something—

He wasn’t just holding you.

He was grounding himself.

Like touching you was the only thing stopping him from going insane.

“Did they touch you?” Jungkook asked suddenly.

His voice was deadly calm.

Your breath hitched.

“What?” you whispered.

Jungkook leaned closer, eyes blazing.

“Did any of them touch you?” he repeated.

You stared at him, shocked.

“No,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s shoulders dropped slightly.

Then his gaze flickered to your throat.

And he inhaled.

Slow.

Deep.

Like he couldn’t help it.

Like your scent was pulling him under.

His eyelids fluttered briefly.

His grip tightened.

And then he whispered, voice thick—

“You smell like fear.”

Your stomach twisted.

“Of course I do,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

“Good,” he murmured.

The word sent chills down your spine.

Because it didn’t sound cruel.

It sounded like satisfaction.

Like he liked the idea that you were afraid.

Not because he wanted you broken…

But because fear meant you’d cling to him.

Namjoon stepped closer, voice sharp.

“Jungkook. Let her go.”

Jungkook didn’t.

Jin crossed his arms, smirking.

“Let him,” Jin said. “He’s finally showing what he wants.”

Yoongi’s voice was cold.

“Don’t lose your head,” Yoongi warned Jungkook.

Hoseok leaned against the wall, breathing through pain.

“She’s overwhelmed,” Hoseok said quietly.

Taehyung’s eyes glittered.

“Or maybe she likes it,” Taehyung murmured.

Your breath caught.

You snapped your gaze toward him.

“What?” you hissed.

Taehyung smiled wider.

“You’re still standing,” he said. “If you truly hated him… you’d be screaming.”

Your cheeks burned.

Your throat tightened.

You wanted to deny it.

But you couldn’t.

Because you weren’t screaming.

You were frozen.

Trapped between fear and something else.

Jungkook’s hand slid from your wrist to your waist.

He pulled you closer.

The move was subtle.

But it was unmistakably possessive.

Your body stiffened.

But you didn’t pull away fast enough.

And Jungkook noticed.

His lips curved slightly.

His eyes darkened further.

Then he leaned down to your ear.

And he whispered, so quietly only you could hear—

“If you run…”

His fingers tightened on your waist.

“…I’ll hunt you.”

Your breath shattered.

He pulled back and looked at you again.

Then, to everyone else, he said coldly—

“She’s staying with me.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.

“No,” Namjoon said. “She stays in the center room.”

Jungkook’s gaze sharpened.

“I said she stays with me.”

Jin chuckled.

“This is getting interesting.”

Yoongi’s eyes flickered between the two.

Taehyung looked delighted.

Jimin’s gaze hardened, lips pressing into a thin line.

Hoseok’s expression tightened.

The tension in the bunker thickened.

Not because of Rossi.

Not because of the gunfire.

But because of you.

Because suddenly, you weren’t just a problem.

You were a possession they were willing to fight over.

Namjoon stepped closer to Jungkook.

His voice lowered.

“You don’t get to claim her alone.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“She’s mine.”

The words made your blood freeze.

Mine.

Jimin’s voice came out soft, dangerous.

“Careful, Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t look away from Namjoon.

“She’s in my arms,” he said. “That means she’s mine.”

Yoongi’s laugh was low and humorless.

“She’s not yours,” Yoongi said.

Then his gaze shifted to you.

“She’s not anyone’s.”

Taehyung tilted his head.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Your breathing became shallow.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing in your chest.

“Stop,” you whispered suddenly, voice trembling.

They all paused.

Every single one of them turned toward you.

Seven sets of eyes.

Seven predators.

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice stronger.

“I’m not a prize,” you said. “I’m not a toy. I’m not your game.”

Silence.

Jungkook’s grip tightened around you.

Namjoon’s eyes darkened.

Jin’s smile softened into something unreadable.

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened.

Hoseok’s expression flickered.

Jimin stared at you like you fascinated him.

Taehyung’s lips curved, amused.

Then Jungkook spoke.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“Say it again,” he murmured.

Your throat tightened.

“What?”

Jungkook leaned closer.

“Say you’re not ours,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched.

Your skin prickled.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.

Because you didn’t know what would happen if you did.

Because something in his eyes promised punishment—not sexual, not tender, but psychological.

The kind that would break your spirit.

Jungkook’s nose brushed your hair.

He inhaled again.

And his voice dropped into something that sounded almost like worship.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

Then he added, so softly it felt like a secret—

“I love it.”

Your blood turned to ice.

Tears burned behind your eyes.

And then, above you…

A final explosion rocked the ceiling.

The lights flickered.

The bunker shook.

Dust fell.

And all seven men moved at once.

Jungkook pulled you into his chest.

Namjoon stepped in front of you like a wall.

Yoongi reached for a gun.

Jin grabbed the radio.

Hoseok hissed in pain but still moved closer.

Jimin positioned himself to your left.

Taehyung smiled faintly, like he was enjoying the chaos.

And for a moment—

For one terrifying moment—

You understood.

They weren’t just dangerous.

They were united.

A pack.

And you were in the middle of them.

Protected.

Trapped.

Claimed.

Jungkook’s lips brushed your temple.

Not a kiss.

A mark.

A warning.

Then he whispered into your hair—

“No one is taking you.”

Your throat tightened.

“Why?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s voice came out low.

“Because if you leave…”

He inhaled, slow, deep.

“…I won’t be able to breathe again.”

Your heart shattered at the words.

Because they didn’t sound like love.

They sounded like obsession.

And obsession didn’t save people.

YN trapped between two mafia families discovers she is the key to a secret that could destroy them all—and the seven men who once wanted to break her become willing to burn the world to keep her.

Prologue

One (Teaser)

One

Two

Three

Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Three: The Bunker Beneath the House

The staircase spiraled downward like it was swallowing you whole.

Stone walls. Dim lights. Air that smelled damp and cold—like the mansion above was only a beautiful mask, and this was its true skeleton.

Jungkook’s grip on your wrist never loosened.

If anything, it tightened the farther you went down, as if he was afraid you might disappear.

Or worse…

As if he was afraid someone might take you.

Your feet stumbled on the steps.

Your dress felt wrong now—too tight, too delicate, too expensive for the terror clawing at your throat.

You could still hear the chaos upstairs.

Faint, muffled echoes of shouting.

The crack of gunfire.

The unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

Your lungs burned.

Your heart pounded so hard you thought it might tear through your ribs.

And Jungkook…

Jungkook didn’t look afraid.

He looked furious.

Like the world had insulted him by daring to step into his territory.

You hated that he could be so calm while you were barely holding yourself together.

You hated that he was dragging you like a possession.

You hated—

You hated that your body felt strangely safe behind him.

That was the worst part.

The most disgusting part.

Because even while your mind screamed that he was your enemy…

Your instincts were whispering that he was the only reason you were still breathing.

Jungkook pushed open a steel door at the bottom of the staircase.

A keypad beeped.

He typed in a code without hesitation.

And the heavy door unlocked with a mechanical click.

Then he shoved you inside.

You stumbled forward.

The door slammed shut behind you.

The sound was deafening.

Final.

Like a coffin closing.

You spun around instantly, panic rising in your throat.

“What is this?” you demanded.

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

He leaned his head back against the door, chest rising and falling as he breathed hard, like he’d been holding his breath since the first gunshot.

His eyes were dark.

Not with fear.

With something else.

Something sharp and violent.

“Underground bunker,” he finally said.

His voice was flat.

Like he’d said it a hundred times before.

You stared at him.

A bunker?

This house had a bunker?

Of course it did.

Because rich men didn’t build safety.

They built fortresses.

You turned around, scanning the room.

It was bigger than you expected.

Concrete walls. Steel shelves lined with supplies. Medical kits. Water. Canned food. Flashlights. Weapons.

There were cots along one side, and a small table with radios and monitors.

A security room.

A survival room.

A place built for war.

You swallowed.

The air was cold, but sweat dampened your palms.

“How long are we staying here?” you asked.

Jungkook stepped away from the door and walked toward you.

Slowly.

The way he always did.

Like he didn’t need to rush because everything would always move at his pace.

“As long as I say,” he replied.

Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off.

One word.

And it silenced you.

Not because you were weak.

But because the tone in his voice was so different now.

Not playful.

Not teasing.

Not cruel for fun.

This was real.

This was Jungkook stripped down to something primal.

He stopped in front of you, towering over you.

“You’re going to listen,” he said quietly. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you.”

You glared up at him, trembling.

“And if I don’t?” you whispered.

Jungkook leaned closer.

His eyes locked onto yours like he was chaining you with his gaze.

“Then I’ll make you,” he said.

Your stomach dropped.

Your skin prickled.

His words weren’t a threat meant to scare you.

They were a promise.

You swallowed hard.

Then you forced yourself to breathe, forced your voice steady.

“Where are my mom and the others?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

“Safe,” he said. “Probably in the other wing bunker.”

You blinked.

Other wing?

“How many bunkers does this house have?” you asked bitterly.

Jungkook’s mouth twitched.

“Enough,” he said.

Your chest tightened.

So they had prepared for violence.

Prepared for enemies.

Prepared for blood.

Which meant this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to attack this estate.

And you knew what that meant.

This family wasn’t innocent.

Not even close.

You stepped back, putting space between you.

But Jungkook stepped forward again immediately.

Like he didn’t allow distance.

Like space between you offended him.

Your back hit the edge of the table.

Cold metal.

Jungkook placed his hands on either side of you.

Caging you in.

Your breath hitched.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

You glared at him.

“No shit,” you snapped.

He ignored the insult.

His gaze dropped to your throat.

Your collarbone.

The pulse beating violently under your skin.

Then his nostrils flared.

You felt it again.

That subtle inhale.

That sickening attention.

Like your scent wasn’t just something he noticed.

It was something he needed.

His eyes darkened.

And you watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

Then he spoke, voice lower.

“You smell even stronger down here.”

Your stomach flipped.

Heat crawled up your neck.

“Stop,” you whispered.

Jungkook tilted his head.

“Why?” he asked softly.

His voice was too calm.

Too intimate.

Like the world above wasn’t exploding with bullets.

Like none of it mattered except the space between your bodies.

Your hands trembled.

“This isn’t the time,” you said.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered to your lips.

Then back to your eyes.

“Maybe it is,” he murmured.

Your pulse spiked.

You tried to shove him away.

But he caught your wrists effortlessly, pinning them against the table.

Hard.

Your breath punched out.

“Let go!” you hissed.

Jungkook didn’t.

He stared down at you like you were the most infuriating thing he’d ever wanted.

His grip tightened.

Not enough to hurt.

Enough to remind you he could.

“Do you have any idea,” he whispered, voice shaking with restrained rage, “what happens if Rossi takes you?”

You glared at him.

“Why do you care?” you spat.

His eyes flashed.

And for a moment, you saw it.

Not just hatred.

Not just cruelty.

Something deeper.

Something broken.

Something possessive.

His jaw clenched.

Then he leaned closer, so close his breath brushed your mouth.

“I don’t,” he said harshly.

You froze.

His eyes bored into yours.

“I don’t care about you,” he continued. “I care about what’s mine.”

The words hit you like a slap.

Your chest tightened.

“You think I’m yours?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s lips curved.

A dark, dangerous smile.

“You became mine the moment your mother married my father,” he murmured.

Your throat burned.

“That doesn’t make me your property.”

Jungkook’s gaze dropped to your lips again.

“Doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Your breathing turned shallow.

The air between you was too hot.

Too tight.

Like the bunker itself was suffocating.

You could feel his body heat.

Could feel the tension in his arms.

The way he held you like he didn’t trust himself to let go.

Then, above you—

A sound.

A muffled explosion.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

You screamed instinctively.

Jungkook immediately pulled you into him.

Your face slammed into his chest.

His arms wrapped around you so tightly you could barely breathe.

But the embrace was firm.

Protective.

Possessive.

Like a shield.

You froze.

Your body reacted before your mind could.

Your hands grabbed his shirt.

Clutched.

Because you were terrified.

Because the sound above felt like death.

Jungkook’s grip tightened.

His hand slid up your back, fingers spreading as he held you against him.

You felt his heartbeat.

Fast.

Hard.

Not as calm as he pretended.

His lips brushed your hair.

Not a kiss.

Not yet.

Just a touch.

But it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Shh,” he murmured.

His voice was low, soothing.

Too intimate.

“You’re safe.”

Your chest rose and fell against him.

You hated how safe it felt.

You hated that your body was betraying you, leaning into him.

You pulled back slightly, breath shaky.

Jungkook’s hands stayed on your waist.

Like he didn’t want you to move away.

Like he didn’t want you to remember you hated him.

You glared up at him.

“This is your fault,” you whispered.

His eyes narrowed.

“My fault?” he repeated.

You shoved at his chest again.

“Your family,” you hissed. “Your father. Your stupid mafia ties—”

Jungkook’s expression snapped.

His hand shot out, gripping your throat.

Not choking.

Not squeezing.

Just holding.

But it was enough to make your blood run cold.

He leaned in, eyes blazing.

“Don’t talk about my father,” he growled.

Your breath hitched.

His thumb brushed your jaw.

“You don’t know anything about us.”

Your voice came out trembling, but you didn’t back down.

“I know you’re all sick,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened.

His grip tightened slightly.

Then he smiled.

And the smile was terrifying.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “We are.”

His gaze slid down your face.

Your neck.

Your collarbone.

His thumb traced the pulse point under your skin.

Your body shuddered involuntarily.

And he noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His eyes gleamed.

“Still shaking,” he murmured.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered.

Jungkook leaned closer.

His voice was almost gentle now.

“Like what?”

You swallowed hard.

“Like you want to—”

Your voice broke.

You couldn’t say it.

Couldn’t admit it out loud.

Because saying it made it real.

Jungkook’s lips curved.

He finished your sentence for you, voice a whisper against your skin.

“Like I want to ruin you?”

Your stomach dropped.

Your breath caught.

And you hated yourself for the heat that bloomed between your thighs.

Because your body reacted.

Even while your mind screamed no.

Jungkook’s eyes sharpened instantly, like he sensed it.

Like he could smell it.

Like your arousal was a scent he could taste in the air.

His nostrils flared again.

And he let out a slow breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered again.

His grip on your throat loosened.

His hand slid down to your shoulder.

Then your arm.

Then your wrist.

And he pinned your hands above your head against the wall.

The cold concrete bit into your skin.

You gasped.

Your eyes widened.

“What are you doing?!” you demanded.

Jungkook stepped closer, pressing his body against yours.

You could feel him.

His hard chest.

His hips.

His thigh sliding between your legs to force them apart.

Your breath stuttered.

And he didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

He just leaned down, his mouth hovering near your ear.

“I’m reminding you,” he whispered, voice low, rough, “that you should be terrified of me.”

Your heart slammed.

You whispered, voice shaking, “I am.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

His lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Liar,” he murmured.

Then he dragged his nose along the side of your neck.

Not kissing.

Just inhaling.

Breathing you in like you were oxygen.

You froze.

Your entire body went rigid.

Because no one had ever touched you like that.

Not like you were a drug.

Not like you were something he couldn’t stop himself from consuming.

Your breath came out in a shaky gasp.

“Stop,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s voice turned dangerously soft.

“I can’t,” he admitted.

And those words…

Those words scared you more than the gunfire above.

Because they weren’t teasing.

They were true.

His lips brushed your neck, barely there.

A touch so light it made you shiver.

Then he pulled back, eyes dark, jaw clenched.

His restraint looked painful.

Like it was taking everything in him not to devour you.

He stared at you for a long moment.

Then his voice came out rough.

“If you weren’t such a problem,” he murmured, “I wouldn’t want you this much.”

Your throat tightened.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

Jungkook’s eyes softened for half a second.

Then his smile returned.

Cold.

Cruel.

“Good,” he murmured. “Hate me.”

He leaned closer again.

“So you won’t notice when you start needing me.”

Your stomach twisted.

Your body trembled.

Then a sound cut through the tension.

A loud beep from the monitor table.

Jungkook’s head snapped toward it.

He released you immediately, stepping away like he’d been burned.

You stood there, panting, hands shaking, your skin still buzzing where he’d touched you.

Jungkook walked to the security monitors.

The screens flickered with camera feeds from around the estate.

And what you saw made your blood turn to ice.

Men in black.

Masks.

Guns.

Moving through the gardens like shadows.

A guard collapsed near the fountain.

Blood spilled across the stone.

You covered your mouth, horror choking you.

“What… what is happening?” you whispered.

Jungkook’s face hardened.

“Rossi’s men,” he said.

Then he reached for the radio.

A crackle.

Static.

A voice came through.

“Namjoon to Jungkook.”

Jungkook grabbed it instantly.

“I’m here.”

Namjoon’s voice was calm, but strained.

“We’re holding them off. But they’re pushing in.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“Where’s Y/N’s mother?”

“Safe,” Namjoon replied. “Elle’s in the west bunker with Jin and Hoseok.”

Jungkook exhaled.

Your knees weakened slightly in relief.

Then Namjoon’s voice changed.

“Jungkook.”

“What?” Jungkook snapped.

Namjoon hesitated.

Then—

“We found a message.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed.

“What message?”

Namjoon’s voice turned colder.

“It was carved into one of the dead guards outside.”

Your stomach lurched.

Carved?

Your skin went numb.

Namjoon continued.

“It says: Give us the girl.”

Silence filled the bunker.

Your heart stopped.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t move.

Your eyes slowly lifted to Jungkook’s face.

He didn’t look at the monitor anymore.

He looked at you.

And the look in his eyes wasn’t hatred now.

It wasn’t cruelty.

It wasn’t teasing.

It was something terrifyingly possessive.

Something feral.

Something that made your blood freeze.

Because he wasn’t thinking about whether you’d survive.

He was thinking about whether he’d let you go.

Jungkook’s voice dropped.

“Tell them no,” he said.

Namjoon’s voice was sharp.

“Jungkook—”

“Tell them no,” Jungkook repeated, louder.

Then he slammed the radio down on the table.

You stumbled back instinctively.

Jungkook turned toward you slowly.

His eyes were dark.

Wild.

And you realized something then.