Flashback ..

Two days earlier

Sleep tight, baby,” he whispered.

“Daddy will take care of everything.”

Time skips

**Author's POV**

The grand mansion stood silent under the pale glow of the moon, its towering windows casting slivers of light across the polished hardwood floors. In the master bedroom, Yn lay cocooned in the luxurious embrace of a silk blanket, her delicate frame rising and falling with the rhythm of deep, peaceful sleep. Her dark hair fanned across the pillow, a soft contrast to the pristine white sheets, and the faintest sigh escaped her lips as dreams held her in their gentle sway. But the tranquility was fleeting. A sudden, primal urge for water stirred her from slumber, her throat parched and insistent. Blinking into the dimness, she sat up, her fingers instinctively clutching the silk blanket to her chest, preserving her modesty as she realized she wore nothing beneath. Her bare feet met the cool floor as she rose, moving with cautious grace, her senses heightened in the unfamiliar stillness of Jungkook’s opulent home.

She tiptoed out of the bedroom, the silk trailing behind her like a whisper, and descended the grand staircase, each step deliberate to avoid creaking the polished wood. The air grew heavier as she reached the living room, and her heart lurched at the sight before her. There, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, were her belongings—her entire life meticulously arranged as if it had always belonged in this space. Dresses hung neatly on racks, their fabrics shimmering faintly; shoes lined up in perfect rows, from her favorite sneakers to delicate heels; bags stacked with care, their leather gleaming. Every trace of her existence—her books, her jewelry, even her small keepsakes—was here, uprooted from her own home without her consent. Jungkook had done this. He’d spoken of her moving in with him, his words laced with a possessive certainty, but she’d been clear—she wasn’t ready. The sight of her life so brazenly claimed sent a chill down her spine, her breath catching as panic clawed at her chest.

She took a trembling step back, her bare feet faltering on the cold floor, only to collide with a solid, unyielding presence. Strong arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against a hard chest, and a startled yelp tore from her lips. Spinning around, she found herself staring into Jungkook’s eyes—dark, intense, and utterly unrecognizable. Gone was the warmth she’d once found in his gaze, replaced by a dangerous, almost predatory glint that sent her heart racing with fear. His grip tightened, fingers digging into her hips as he pressed himself closer, his body a wall she couldn’t escape. The silk blanket slipped slightly, and she clutched it tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to maintain her composure.

“Kook,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her eyes darted between her belongings and the man before her, “why did you bring my things here?”

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, chilling in its confidence, his voice low and smooth like velvet laced with venom. “This is where you belong, baby. You and your things. From now on, you live here with me. Not just stay—live.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, and tears welled in her eyes. “No!” she cried, shoving against his chest with her free hand, her voice breaking. “I’m not ready! Let me go, Jungkook!”

His smirk didn’t falter, his eyes narrowing as he held her effortlessly, unmoved by her resistance. “Don’t make this hard, baby,” he murmured, his tone deceptively calm. Before she could protest further, he bent slightly, hooking an arm under her knees and hoisting her over his shoulder with ease. Yn’s scream echoed through the cavernous mansion as she pounded her fists against his back, her legs kicking futilely. “No! Let me go! Jungkook, please!” she sobbed, her voice raw with desperation.

He chuckled, the sound dark and rumbling, as he ascended the stairs with deliberate steps. “I won’t hurt you, baby,” he said, his voice carrying a twisted reassurance, “not if you listen. You’re mine, and you’re not leaving this mansion—or my life.”

They reached his bedroom, the door swinging open to reveal the expansive space dominated by a king-sized bed draped in dark linens. Jungkook tossed her onto the mattress, her body landing with a soft thud on her stomach. She scrambled to sit up, clutching the silk blanket tightly to cover herself, her heart hammering as she realized her vulnerability—she was bare beneath the thin fabric, completely at his mercy. Jungkook stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze raking over her, dark and heavy with lust. “You look so delicious, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as he took a step closer, his presence looming.

“No, don’t come near me!” Yn’s voice cracked as she crawled backward, her eyes wide with fear. “I’m sore, Jungkook, please!”

His jaw clenched, a flash of anger crossing his features. In a sudden move, he slammed his fist into the bed beside her, the impact reverberating through the frame and making her flinch. “Don’t you think you deserve a little punishment?” he growled, leaning closer, his breath hot against her skin. “For hiding Taehyung’s visit?” Yn’s face drained of color, her breath hitching. How did he know? She hadn’t told him about Taehyung showing up at her house, a brief and unwanted encounter she’d quickly ended. “I know you threw him out, baby,” Jungkook continued, his voice low and dangerous, “but you didn’t tell me. You kept it from me. So, this is your punishment—you’re staying here. With me.”

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. “Please, let me go,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m scared, Jungkook.”

His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Scared? Have I hit you? Hurt you?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why are you scared? All I ask is that you listen to me, love me. I’m being good to you, aren’t I?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing her cheek in a soft, almost tender bite that sent a shiver of fear through her. She shoved at him, one hand gripping the blanket, the other pushing against his chest with all her strength. “How did you even get my house keys?” she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

Jungkook’s smirk returned, darker this time, as he caught her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of affection. “I get what I want, baby,” he said softly, his eyes glinting with triumph. “And right now, I want you.” Releasing her wrist, he reached for a glass of juice on the nightstand, its vibrant orange hue catching the moonlight. “You’re thirsty, right? Drink. It’s your favorite.”

Yn stared at the glass, her instincts screaming caution, but his gaze darkened, his voice sharpening into a command. “Drink.”

Flinching at the edge in his tone, she took the glass with trembling hands and drank quickly, the sweet liquid coating her lips as she forced it down. Before she could set the glass aside, Jungkook’s hand cupped her face, and he kissed her fiercely, his lips claiming hers with a possessive hunger. Her muffled cries were swallowed by the kiss as she pushed against his chest, her hands weak against his strength. Finally, she broke free, scrambling off the bed in a desperate bid for escape, her bare feet slipping on the floor. But Jungkook was faster, his arms encircling her waist as he lifted her and tossed her back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers in an instant.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement as he pinned her beneath his gaze, relishing her helplessness.

Yn’s head began to spin, a wave of dizziness washing over her, followed by a creeping nausea. “My head… it hurts,” she mumbled, her vision blurring as her limbs grew heavy. The juice—he’d done something to it. Her eyes widened in realization, but her body betrayed her, sinking into the mattress.

Jungkook’s expression softened, though his eyes held no remorse. He’d laced the juice with sleeping pills, a calculated move to quell her resistance, to keep her pliant. “Sleep, baby,” he murmured, his fingers stroking her hair with a tenderness that felt jarring after his earlier intensity. “You’re tired. We’ll talk in the morning.” He peppered her face with gentle kisses, his lips lingering on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as her consciousness faded. Within moments, Yn’s body went limp, her breathing evening out as sleep claimed her.

Jungkook lingered, his gaze tracing the delicate lines of her face, now peaceful in unconsciousness.

Carefully, he peeled the silk blanket from her body, revealing her bare form beneath. His breath hitched, desire flickering in his eyes, but he shook his head, muttering to himself, “She’s sore. I can’t. She’d cry.” With a gentleness that contrasted his earlier dominance, he retrieved one of his oversized t-shirts from the wardrobe, along with a pair of her panties, and dressed her with meticulous care, ensuring her comfort. He adjusted her position on the bed, tucking the covers around her, and pressed a final kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, “Look how patient I’m being, baby. You’re my queen, my everything. You’ll learn to stay, and I’ll handle every tantrum with care.”

Satisfied, he slipped out of the room, his footsteps silent as he descended the stairs. In the living room, he turned his attention to her belongings, his hands moving with purpose as he began arranging her clothes, shoes, and accessories in the grand closet he’d prepared for her. Each item was placed with reverence, a testament to his obsession, as he crafted a space for the life he’d claimed as his own. The mansion, once silent, now hummed with the weight of his resolve—Yn was his, and he would ensure she never left.

Meanwhile ..

**Taehyung's POV**

The dim glow of the chandelier cast flickering shadows across the opulent living room of the Kim family mansion, its golden light doing little to warm the cold knot of frustration twisting in my chest. I paced the polished marble floor, my phone pressed tightly to my ear, the monotonous drone of an unreachable signal mocking me with every unanswered call to Yn. Her phone had been off for hours—maybe days—and the silence was suffocating. My heart pounded, each failed attempt to reach her fueling a growing storm of anger and helplessness. She was slipping away, and I could feel it, like sand through my fingers, no matter how tightly I tried to hold on.

“Come on, Yn, pick up,” I muttered under my breath, redialing her number for what felt like the hundredth time. The same robotic voice greeted me: *“The number you have dialed is currently unreachable.”* A growl of frustration tore from my throat, and before I could stop myself, I hurled the phone across the room. It smashed against the floor with a sharp crack, the screen splintering into a web of fractures. The sound echoed in the cavernous space, a stark punctuation to my unraveling composure.

“Taehyung!” My father’s voice cut through the haze of my anger as he rushed into the living room, his footsteps quick and heavy on the marble. Mr. Kim’s usually composed face was etched with concern, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly disheveled from whatever he’d been doing upstairs. He stopped short, his eyes darting from the shattered phone to my clenched fists, then finally to my face. I knew what he saw—my bloodshot eyes, the dark circles carving hollows beneath them, the taut line of my jaw. I looked like a man on the edge, and I felt like one too. “Son, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with worry. “You’re tearing yourself apart.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat, choked by the weight of everything I couldn’t say. Yn was gone—maybe not physically, but she was out of my reach, pulled into Jungkook’s orbit, and I was powerless to stop it. Before I could force out a reply, the sharp chime of the doorbell sliced through the tension, startling us both. My father’s brow furrowed, and he glanced toward the foyer as the butler, a wiry man named Mr. Lee, shuffled to answer it.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and a tall figure stepped into the mansion, his presence commanding the room without effort. Kim Namjoon. The famous detective and your cousin brother who's presence filled the doorway, his tailored coat doing little to hide the strength beneath. His sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on me with a mix of surprise and concern. His dark hair was slightly tousled from the evening breeze, and his calm, authoritative demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos roiling inside me.

“Taehyung?” Namjoon’s deep voice carried a note of disbelief as he took in my disheveled state—rumpled shirt, hair a mess from running my hands through it, and the shattered phone at my feet. Before I could think, I crossed the room in a few quick strides and threw my arms around him, the familiar scent of his cologne grounding me for a fleeting moment. He hugged me back, his grip firm and reassuring, like an anchor in a storm. When we pulled apart, his hands lingered on my shoulders, his gaze searching my face.

“Taehyung, what have you done to yourself?” he said, his tone a mix of reprimand and concern. “Look at you. You’re a wreck.”

I tried to speak, my voice cracking as I struggled to find the words. “Namjoon, I—she’s… Yn’s not answering. I can’t reach her. I don’t know what he’s done to her—” My voice broke, and I clenched my fists, the anger surging again. “Jungkook. He’s got her, and I—”

Before I could finish, my father stepped forward, his expression grave but resolute. “Now do you believe me, son?” he said, his voice steady but heavy with meaning. He turned to Namjoon, his eyes pleading. “Only you can handle this now, Namjoon. He’s spiraling, and I don’t know how to pull him back.”

Namjoon’s jaw tightened, and he gave my father a curt nod, his hand still resting on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Uncle,” he said, his voice calm but firm, exuding the confidence that had made him a legend in his field. “I’ll take it from here.”

My father sighed, his shoulders sagging with relief, though his eyes lingered on me with a mix of love and worry. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said quietly, casting one last glance at me before turning and ascending the grand staircase, his footsteps fading into the silence of the upper floors.

Namjoon’s grip on my shoulder tightened briefly, pulling my attention back to him. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened just enough to show he cared. “Come on, Taehyung,” he said, his voice steady but urgent. “Let’s go for a ride. I know exactly what we need to do to help you get your Yn back. Trust me.”

I stared at him, my chest tight with a mix of hope and desperation. Namjoon had always been the one to pull me out of my darkest moments, his cool-headed logic a lifeline when my emotions threatened to drown me. I nodded, unable to form words, and grabbed my jacket from the nearby couch. The shattered phone lay forgotten on the floor as we headed for the door, the cool night air hitting my face as we stepped outside. Namjoon’s sleek black car waited in the driveway, its engine purring softly as we approached. I didn’t know what he had planned, but for the first time in days, a flicker of hope sparked in my chest. If anyone could help me reach Yn, it was Namjoon.

As we climbed into the car and pulled away from the mansion, the weight of my fear and anger lingered, but Namjoon’s presence was a quiet promise that I wasn’t fighting this battle alone. “We’ll find her, Taehyung,” he said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his voice carrying the weight of certainty. “And we’ll figure out what Jungkook’s up to. Just stay with me.”

I nodded, my hands clenching in my lap as the city lights blurred past us, each one a reminder of the distance between me and Yn—and the danger that might be keeping her from me.

---

To be continued ..