Next Day

The opulent living room of Taehyung’s mansion glows under the soft light of a modern chandelier, its crystal prisms casting delicate patterns across the sleek hardwood floors. The space is a testament to Taehyung’s wealth—plush velvet sofas, a marble coffee table, and floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the Seoul skyline, now twinkling in the deepening night. The air is heavy with the scent of sandalwood from a nearby candle, but the atmosphere is anything but calm. Taehyung lounges on a sofa, his black t-shirt clinging to his frame, his expression deceptively relaxed as he sips a glass of red wine. Across from him sits Mr. Kim, a distinguished man in his late fifties, his tailored suit immaculate, his sharp eyes studying Taehyung with a mix of curiosity and concern. The two are deep in conversation, the topic inevitably circling back to Jungkook.

Taehyung has kept her shielded from the truth, refusing to let Mr. Choi or anyone else contact her with news of Jungkook’s deteriorating condition in the mental health facility. His love for her has become a quiet obsession, a determination to keep her safe—and his.

**Mr. Kim** (leaning forward, voice low and probing): “Taehyung, what’s the latest on Jungkook? Is he showing any signs of recovery?”

Taehyung swirls the wine in his glass, his lips curling into a faint, dismissive smile. He leans back, his posture casual, but his eyes are guarded, betraying the weight of his secrets.

**Taehyung**: “Not really. He’s not healing, Dad . If anything, he’s getting worse. The doctors say he’s… unstable. More erratic every day.”

Mr. Kim’s brow furrows, his fingers tapping the armrest of his chair. He opens his mouth to press further, but the conversation is shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps pounding through the foyer. A guard, his face flushed and eyes wide with panic, bursts into the room, his uniform disheveled from running.

**Guard** (gasping, voice urgent): “Sir! Someone took Miss Y/N to the mental hospital!”

Taehyung’s glass slips from his hand, shattering on the marble floor in a spray of red wine and splintered crystal. He’s on his feet in an instant, his calm facade obliterated, replaced by a blazing fury. He grabs the guard by the collar, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw in a brutal punch that sends him stumbling back.

**Taehyung** (roaring, voice raw): “What the hell were you all doing?! Who took her there?! How did this happen?!”

The guard stammers, clutching his jaw, but before he can answer, a deep, commanding voice cuts through the chaos from the doorway.

**Voice**: “I sent her there.”

Every head in the room snaps toward the entrance. Kim Seokjin strides in, his presence filling the space like a storm. He’s impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit, his broad shoulders and chiseled features radiating authority. His dark eyes are cold, glinting with a mix of disdain and controlled anger. As Jungkook’s older cousin and the only family he has left, Jin is a titan in the business world, his name synonymous with power and influence. Taehyung’s eyes widen, his breath catching, while Mr. Kim rises from his chair, his face pale with shock.

**Jin** (voice sharp, laced with mockery): “You played a good game, Taehyung. I’ll give you that. You thought you could trap Jungkook like that, huh? Lock him away, keep Y/N all to yourself?”

Taehyung’s fists clench, his heart pounding as he steps forward, his voice low but defiant. **Taehyung**: “I did what I had to. He’s a danger to her, Hyung . You know that.”

Before Jin can respond, the doors burst open again, and Yoongi storms in, his black hoodie stained with sweat, his eyes blazing with fury. Without a word, he lunges at Taehyung, his fist connecting with Taehyung’s cheek in a sickening crack. Taehyung staggers, blood trickling from his lip, but he doesn’t fight back, his gaze locked on Yoongi’s enraged face.

**Mr. Kim** (shouting, stepping between them): “Who the hell are you?! What’s going on?!”

Yoongi’s chest heaves, his voice a growl as he glares at Taehyung. **Yoongi**: “Your son’s a bastard, Mr. Kim. He didn’t even tell Y/N about Jungkook’s condition. He’s been lying to her, keeping her locked away like some prize!”

Mr. Kim’s eyes widen, his shock palpable as he turns to Taehyung. **Mr. Kim**: “You didn’t tell her? Why, Taehyung? Why would you keep that from her?”

Taehyung wipes the blood from his lip, his voice rising, raw with emotion. **Taehyung**: “Because I love her! I did everything to keep her safe, to make her happy! What’s wrong with that? Jungkook’s a psycho—he doesn’t deserve her!”

Yoongi lunges again, his fist raised, but Jin grabs his arm, his grip like iron. **Jin** (voice calm but deadly): “Don’t, Yoongi. He’s not worth it. Save your strength.”

Yoongi glares at Taehyung, his breathing heavy, but he steps back, his fists still clenched. Jin’s gaze shifts to Taehyung, his eyes narrowing, his voice cutting like a blade.

**Jin**: “You know who she loves, don’t you? She loves Jungkook. The moment I told her about his condition, she didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. She wanted to see him, to be with him, no matter what he’s done. And if you dare show your face to her again, Taehyung…” He lets the threat hang, his presence alone enough to make it real.

Jin’s eyes flicker to Yoongi’s wrist, still bruised from his self-inflicted wound a week ago, and he gestures toward the door. **Jin**: “Let’s go. We’re done here.”

Yoongi nods, his jaw tight, and follows Jin toward the exit. Taehyung stands frozen, his face a mix of rage and despair, blood still dripping from his lip. Mr. Kim watches, his expression torn between disappointment and confusion, as Jin and Yoongi disappear into the night, their footsteps echoing in the foyer.

The room falls silent, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Taehyung sinks onto the sofa, his hands trembling, his mind reeling. Y/N is gone again, taken to Jungkook’s side, and the weight of his failure crashes over him. He’d done everything to keep her, to protect her, but her heart still belongs to the man he tried to destroy. The guard, still nursing his jaw, slips out quietly, leaving Taehyung and Mr. Kim in the wreckage of their confrontation.

**Mr. Kim** (quietly, voice heavy): “Taehyung… what have you done?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer, his gaze fixed on the floor, the shattered wine glass a mirror of his broken plans. Outside, the city hums, indifferent to the storm raging within the mansion, as Y/N’s choice to return to Jungkook sets the stage for a reckoning none of them can escape.

Flashback

1 hours ago

Yn's Pov

The living room of Taehyung’s luxurious apartment is bathed in the flickering glow of a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, casting soft shadows across the plush gray sofas and sleek marble coffee table. The movie playing—a quiet drama with muted dialogue—fills the room with a low hum, barely registering in Y/N’s mind. She sits curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a soft throw blanket, her knees drawn to her chest. The oversized cream sweater she wears, one of Taehyung’s, hangs loosely on her frame, a reminder of her fragile state. Her eyes, though fixed on the screen, are distant, her thoughts spiraling back to Jungkook—his smile, his voice, the way he’d held her in moments of tenderness before everything went wrong. She wonders where he is, if he’s suffering, if he’s thinking of her. The apartment is eerily quiet, Taehyung having stepped out to run errands, leaving her alone for the first time in days.

The sudden chime of the doorbell slices through the silence, sharp and jarring. Y/N freezes, her heart lurching in her chest. Her breath catches as she glances toward the door, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. The apartment, though a sanctuary under Taehyung’s care, now feels exposed, vulnerable. She hesitates, her mind racing—*It’s not safe. Who could it be?* The bell rings again, insistent, and she rises slowly, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. She stands frozen for a moment, her hand hovering over the armrest, debating whether to answer or retreat. Then, a familiar voice calls through the door, warm and unmistakable, cutting through her fear.

**Mr. Choi**: “Y/N, dear, I know you’re inside. It’s me, Choi. Don’t worry, I’m alone.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat. She knows that voice—Mr. Choi, the man who’d been a quiet constant in Jungkook’s world, always kind but distant. Without hesitation, she hurries to the door, her fingers fumbling with the lock in her haste. She swings it open, and there stands Mr. Choi, his gray suit slightly rumpled, his salt-and-pepper hair catching the hallway light. Beside him is Yoongi, his black hoodie and dark jeans making him look like a shadow, his sharp eyes softening as they meet hers. His face, still pale from his hospital recovery, carries a faint smirk, but there’s warmth in his gaze.

Y/N’s breath catches at the sight of Yoongi, relief flooding her. She rushes forward, throwing her arms around him, her voice trembling with emotion. **Y/N**: “Oppa! You’re okay! I can’t believe it… you’re really here. You said we’d meet, and… you’re fine!”

Yoongi’s arms wrap around her, steady and strong despite the lingering pain in his body. He chuckles softly, his voice low and rough. **Yoongi**: “Told you, kid. I always keep my promises.”

They break the hug, Y/N stepping back, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she searches his face, ensuring he’s real. Mr. Choi steps inside, closing the door behind him and locking it with a quiet click. His expression is grave, his usual calm demeanor tinged with urgency.

**Mr. Choi** (voice soft but firm): “I’m sorry, Mr. Min, I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to tell Y/N everything. Now.”

Y/N’s smile fades, her heart sinking as she looks between them. **Y/N** (voice small, wary): “Tell me what? What’s going on?”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering with reluctance, but Mr. Choi nods, urging him to speak. Yoongi steps closer, his voice low, steady, but heavy with the weight of truth.

**Yoongi**: “Y/N… it’s about Jungkook. You’re the only one who can save him now.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, her knees weakening at the mention of Jungkook’s name. She grips the back of the sofa for support, her voice trembling. **Y/N**: “Is he okay? What happened to him? Please, tell me!”

Yoongi exhales, running a hand through his dark hair, his expression pained. He sits on the edge of the sofa, gesturing for Y/N to join him. She sinks down beside him, her eyes wide, hanging on his every word.

**Yoongi**: “Jungkook’s in a mental health facility. His condition… it’s bad, Y/N. Worse than we thought. He’s been spiraling for years, ever since his mother…” He pauses, his voice catching. “She took her own life, jumped into a river when he was a kid. It broke him. He’s been carrying that trauma, hiding it, letting it fester. It’s why he’s the way he is—why he became so obsessed with you. He’s not well, and it’s eating him alive.”

Y/N’s world tilts, the ground slipping from beneath her. She collapses back against the sofa, her hands covering her mouth as tears well in her eyes. The pieces fall into place—Jungkook’s desperation, his need to control her, his moments of tenderness overshadowed by paranoia. She shakes her head, her voice breaking.

**Y/N**: “He was handling all of that… alone? Why didn’t he tell me? I swear, I didn’t know… I didn’t know anything…”

Yoongi reaches out, brushing her hair gently, his touch grounding her. **Yoongi**: “I believe you, kid. He hid it from everyone. Even me, for a long time. But you need to know now.”

Y/N’s tears spill over, but she stands abruptly, grabbing Yoongi’s hand, her voice fierce with determination. **Y/N**: “I need to see him. Now. Please, oppa, take me to him. I’ll do anything to help him. I know he’ll listen to me.”

Yoongi hesitates, his eyes searching hers, but Y/N cuts him off, her voice rising with conviction. **Y/N**: “He won’t hurt me, oppa. I know he won’t. I love him, and I know he loves me too. You can’t imagine how much—no one can. He did wrong, I know that, but he never raised a hand to me. He never truly hurt me. I won’t leave him alone, not now.”

Mr. Choi steps forward, his expression resolute. **Mr. Choi**: “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Y/N nods, wiping her tears, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope. She grabs a jacket from the nearby rack, her movements quick and determined. Yoongi rises, but his expression shifts, a shadow crossing his face.

**Yoongi**: “I’m not coming with you. I’ve got someone else to deal with.”

Y/N pauses, her eyes widening with confusion. **Y/N**: “Oppa? What do you mean?”

Yoongi’s smirk returns, faint but grim. **Yoongi**: “Don’t worry about it, kid. Go with Choi. Get to Jungkook. I’ll handle the rest.”

Mr. Choi places a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, guiding her toward the door. Y/N glances back at Yoongi, her heart heavy with gratitude and worry, but she nods, trusting him. The door clicks shut behind them as they step into the hallway, the city’s hum waiting beyond. Yoongi lingers in the apartment, his eyes darkening as he pulls out his phone, his mind already on the confrontation he’s planning—a reckoning with Taehyung, the man who tried to keep Y/N from her truth.

Outside, Mr. Choi and Y/N hurry to his sedan, the night air cool against her tear-streaked face. As the car pulls away, Y/N’s thoughts are only of Jungkook—his pain, his love, and the chance to save him from the darkness consuming him. The city blurs past, a backdrop to her resolve, as the weight of her love and his secrets carries her tow

ard the mental health facility where Jungkook waits, broken but not beyond her reach.

To be continued..