**Taehyung’s POV -

Flashback**

The dimly lit office was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of Seoul outside. The heavy oak desk, cluttered with papers and a half-empty bottle of whiskey, sat in the center of the room, its surface reflecting the faint glow of a single desk lamp. Taehyung leaned back in his leather chair, his tailored suit slightly rumpled, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he stared at the phone in his hand, his jaw clenched tight. The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows doing little to ease the storm brewing inside him. His heart pounded, a mix of anger, jealousy, and a desperate need to reclaim control driving his every move.

He’d been plotting for weeks, his resentment toward Jungkook festering like an open wound. The memories of Y/N’s laughter, her eyes sparkling for Jungkook, gnawed at him, fueling his determination to tear them apart. He’d already manipulated the situation—swapping Jungkook’s medication, stealing files to destabilize him—but it wasn’t enough. Jungkook was still standing, still fighting, still holding onto Y/N. Taehyung needed more.

He dialed a number, his fingers gripping the phone tightly, his voice low and dangerous as the call connected. “Dr. Lee,” he said, his tone sharp, cutting through the silence. “We need to talk about Jungkook’s meds.”

Dr. Lee’s voice crackled through the line, hesitant and nervous. “Mr. Kim, I’ve already increased the dose as you asked last time. It’s dangerous to push it further. His condition—”

“Dangerous?” Taehyung snapped, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as he gripped the edge of the desk. “I don’t care about your excuses. Double the dose. Make it quick. I want him out of the picture, you understand?”

There was a long pause, the doctor’s breathing uneven. “Mr. Kim, I… I can’t do that,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Jin’s people are watching Jungkook closely now. They’ve got orders to monitor everything—his meds, his visitors, everything. If they suspect me, I’m done for. And it’s not just that—it’s not good for Jungkook. This could kill him.”

Taehyung’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. “You think I give a damn about what’s good for him?” he growled, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re in too deep to back out now, Lee. Do it, or I’ll make sure everyone knows about the bribes you’ve been taking.”

Another voice cut in, sharp and defiant—Min, the pharmacist who’d been assisting Dr. Lee. “No way, Taehyung,” he said, his tone firm despite the fear lacing his words. “I’m out. I’m not risking my neck for this anymore. Jungkook’s not the monster you make him out to be. I’m done.”

“Min, you little—” Taehyung started, but the line went dead, the abrupt silence like a slap to his face. “Shit!” he cursed, slamming the phone onto the desk, the sound echoing in the empty office. His chest heaved, his teeth gritted as he raked a hand through his hair, frustration boiling over. They were backing out, and Jungkook was still standing in his way.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing, the darkness in him taking over. He grabbed the phone again, dialing another number, his voice cold and resolute as the call connected. “It’s me,” he said, his tone clipped. “Jungkook. I want him gone. Tonight. Make it clean, and don’t screw it up.”

“Understood, Mr. Kim,” the man on the other end replied, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’ll be done.”

Taehyung hung up, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The weight of what he’d just ordered settled over him, but he pushed it down, his mind consumed by the image of Y/N, free from Jungkook, turning to him instead. He didn’t notice the faint creak of the office door, didn’t see the shadow that slipped out, didn’t hear the soft footsteps retreating down the hall.

---

**Namjoon’s POV**

Namjoon stood frozen just outside the office, his heart pounding, his breath caught in his throat. He’d come to drop off some documents, expecting a quick meeting, but what he’d overheard had turned his blood to ice. Taehyung’s voice, sharp and venomous, echoed in his mind—*“Double the dose… I want him gone. Tonight.”* The words were a knife to his gut, the betrayal cutting deep. He’d known Taehyung was spiraling, but this—this was beyond anything he’d imagined.

He slipped out of the building, his steps quick but silent, his mind racing as he reached his car parked in the shadowed lot. The cool night air did nothing to calm the storm inside him. He slid into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel as he dialed Yoongi, his voice low and urgent when the call connected. “Yoongi, it’s bad,” he said, his tone clipped, his eyes scanning the lot for any sign of being followed. “Taehyung’s lost it. He’s trying to double Jungkook’s meds, and when that didn’t work, he ordered a hit. On Jungkook. Tonight.”

Yoongi’s voice was sharp, laced with disbelief. “A hit? Are you fucking serious, Namjoon? Taehyung’s gone that far?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon said, his jaw tight. “I heard it myself. He didn’t know I was there. We need to move, now. Y/N’s at Jungkook’s mansion, and if Taehyung’s targeting him, she’s not safe either.”

“Shit,” Yoongi muttered, the sound of rustling in the background signaling he was already moving. “Jin’s got people watching Jungkook, right? Call him. I’m heading to the mansion now.”

Namjoon nodded, even though Yoongi couldn’t see him. “On it. Meet me there.” He ended the call and immediately dialed Jin, his fingers trembling slightly as he waited for the connection.

Jin picked up on the first ring, his voice calm but alert. “Namjoon? What’s going on?”

“Taehyung’s trying to kill Jungkook,” Namjoon said, the words spilling out in a rush. “He’s ordered a hit. I just heard him in his office. He’s also been messing with Jungkook’s meds, trying to double the dose. We need to get to the mansion—Y/N’s there, and Taehyung might go after her too.”

Jin’s voice hardened, the warmth replaced by a steely resolve. “I’ve got men watching Jungkook at the facility. I’ll make sure they’re on high alert. No one’s touching him. You and Yoongi get to the mansion, protect Y/N. I’m on my way.”

“Got it,” Namjoon said, starting the engine, the roar of the car a reflection of the urgency coursing through him. “We’ll meet you there.”

The night was dark, the city lights blurring past as Namjoon sped through the streets, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Yoongi was already on his way, his sleek black car weaving through traffic, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a fierce determination to protect his friends. Jin, too, was mobilizing, his car cutting through the city from his own mansion, his phone buzzing with orders to his men at the facility where Jungkook was being held.

Meanwhile

The cell was a cold, shadowed box, its cracked concrete walls illuminated only by the faint, flickering glow of a fluorescent light outside the bars. The air was heavy with the scent of damp stone and despair, the silence broken only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Jungkook and Jimin, both sprawled on their bunks, lost in rare, peaceful sleep. Jungkook lay on his back, one arm draped over his chest, his face relaxed, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had consumed him earlier. Jimin, curled slightly on his side, clutched his oversized fidget spinner, its silver blades glinting faintly in the dim light, even in sleep.

The quiet was shattered by the soft click of a key turning in the cell’s lock. The heavy metal door creaked open, the sound barely audible but enough to stir Jimin’s instincts. His eyes snapped open, sharp and alert, as a shadowy figure slipped inside, moving with the stealth of a predator. The man, clad in dark clothing, his face obscured by a hood, drew a silenced pistol from his waistband, the barrel glinting as he aimed it at Jungkook’s sleeping form.

Jimin moved like lightning. In a blur of motion, he launched himself from his bunk, tackling the intruder with a force that sent them crashing against the wall. The impact echoed in the small cell, a dull thud followed by a grunt of pain. Jungkook’s eyes flew open, his body jolting upright as the sounds of struggle yanked him from sleep. He took in the scene in an instant—Jimin grappling with the man, the gun skittering across the floor.

“Jimin!” Jungkook shouted, vaulting off his bunk and diving into the fray. The intruder swung a wild punch, catching Jimin’s shoulder, but Jimin was relentless, his small frame deceptively powerful as he drove his knee into the man’s gut. Jungkook scrambled for the gun, his fingers closing around the cold metal just as the intruder broke free, lunging for him.

Jimin was faster. With a snarl, he wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, yanking him back in a chokehold, his grip tightening like a vise. The intruder thrashed, his hands clawing at Jimin’s arm, but Jimin’s eyes were cold, unyielding, his jaw set with lethal focus. “Jimin, stop!” Jungkook yelled, clutching the gun, his voice sharp with alarm. “You’ll kill him!”

Jimin’s grip didn’t falter, his arm squeezing tighter as the man’s struggles weakened, his face turning red, then purple. “He was gonna kill you,” Jimin growled, his voice low and dangerous, but he loosened his hold just enough for the man to slump to the floor, unconscious, his chest heaving faintly.

Breathing heavily, Jimin stood, brushing off his hands as if he’d just swatted a fly. He knelt beside the man, rifling through his pockets with practiced ease, pulling out a ring of keys. “Jackpot,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stood and moved to the cell door, unlocking it with a swift turn. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit corridor beyond.

Jungkook stood frozen, the gun still in his hand, his eyes flicking between the unconscious man and Jimin, who was already stepping into the hallway. “You coming, or you planning to stay here and play house?” Jimin called back, his tone teasing but edged with urgency, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark. “I can drop you wherever you want, but we gotta move.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a smirk, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Hell no, I’m not staying,” he said, tucking the gun into his waistband and following Jimin out, locking the cell door behind them with a satisfying click. The corridor stretched before them, a maze of concrete and flickering lights, the distant sound of boots echoing as guards began to stir.

They moved like shadows, their footsteps light but swift, the tension crackling between them. A guard rounded the corner, his eyes widening as he spotted them. “Hey! Stop!” he shouted, reaching for his radio, but Jimin was already in motion, snatching the gun from Jungkook’s waistband with a fluid grace. Two quick shots rang out, the silenced pistol spitting bullets that tore into the guard’s legs. The man collapsed, screaming, clutching his thighs as blood pooled beneath him.

“Move!” Jimin barked, tossing the gun back to Jungkook, who caught it mid-air, his heart pounding but his focus razor-sharp. They sprinted through the corridors, dodging another guard who lunged at them, only for Jimin to sidestep and deliver a brutal elbow to the man’s temple, dropping him instantly. Jungkook followed close, his eyes scanning for threats, the gun steady in his grip.

They reached the outer courtyard, a vast, open space enclosed by a towering metal gate, its double locks gleaming ominously under the floodlights. Jungkook skidded to a halt, his breath ragged, his eyes narrowing at the barrier. “Now what?” he asked, glancing at Jimin, who was already pulling out his fidget spinner, its silver blades catching the light.

Jimin’s smirk was pure confidence. “Watch and learn,” he said, pressing the center of the spinner. A thin, red laser beam shot out, slicing through the air with a faint hum. He aimed it at the gate’s locks, the beam cutting through the metal like butter, sparks flying as the locks melted away. Within moments, the gate groaned open, revealing the dark expanse of the facility’s outer grounds.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, but Jimin wasn’t done. He pulled out his second fidget spinner, pressing a small black button on its surface. “Two minutes,” he said, his voice calm but urgent, as he hurled the spinner into the night. “That’s our exit cue. Run.”

Jimin grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, and they bolted across the grounds, their boots pounding against the dirt, the cold air biting at their faces. Behind them, shouts rang out as more guards mobilized, but Jimin and Jungkook were a blur, weaving through the shadows. They reached the facility’s outer wall, a massive concrete barrier that loomed like a fortress. Jungkook stopped, his chest heaving, his eyes flicking to Jimin. “Now what?” he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Jimin’s smirk widened. He pressed the black button on the second spinner, which he’d retrieved mid-run, and tossed it skyward. A deafening crack split the air as the spinner exploded in a burst of light, a signal that lit up the night. Seconds later, the roar of rotor blades filled the sky, and a sleek black helicopter descended, its downdraft kicking up dust and debris. Jungkook’s eyes widened, disbelief warring with awe as the chopper touched down, its door sliding open to reveal a man in his early forties, his face weathered but warm, a broad smile spreading as he looked at them.

“Time to go, boys!” the man called, his voice carrying over the roar of the blades. Jimin and Jungkook scrambled aboard, the helicopter lifting off just as a massive explosion rocked the facility behind them. The exit gate erupted in a fireball, the blast lighting up the night sky, the heat and sound washing over them as they soared higher.

Jungkook stared out the window, his heart pounding as he watched the flames consume the facility below. Jimin leaned back in his seat, his smirk never fading, his fidget spinner twirling lazily in his hand. “Told you,” he said, his voice light but triumphant. “I can get out whenever I want.”

Jungkook laughed, a raw, disbelieving sound, his adrenaline still surging. “Who the hell are you, really?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied Jimin, the pieces starting to click.

Jimin’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with pride. “We’re Parks,” he said simply, leaning forward. “Park Jimin, Mafia Lord of the second-largest gang in the city. And, yeah, I’m your Jin hyung’s friend. He sent me here to keep you alive. That guy who tried to kill you? Courtesy of your stepbrother, Taehyung. He wanted you dead, but Jin made sure I was in that cell to watch your back.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, his mind racing. “You don’t even know me,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Why risk all this?”

Jimin shrugged, his smirk softening into something warmer. “I know Jin hyung. He’s like a brother to me, and he was there when no one else was. That’s enough. Plus, I’ve heard about you, Jungkook. The guy who loves his girl so much he’d burn the world down for her. Jin told me to get you out, so here we are.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping, serious now. “Now go prove you’re not your father. Trust Y/N, trust yourself, and be the man she deserves.”

Jungkook nodded, his throat tight, gratitude and determination warring in his chest. “Thanks, Jimin,” he said, his voice steady, resolute.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, what, we’re friends now?” He held out his hand, and Jungkook met it with a firm grip, their shoulders nudging in a brotherly gesture, a bond forged in the heat of their escape.

“Brothers,” Jungkook said, a small smile breaking through. Jimin laughed, the sound light and genuine, sealing their pact.

Minutes later, the helicopter touched down in the sprawling backyard of a massive estate, its grounds dotted with sleek jets and helicopters, a testament to the Park family’s power. Jimin and Jungkook climbed out, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the adrenaline-fueled heat of their escape. They walked across the manicured lawn, the grass crunching under their boots, until they reached a sleek black Mercedes parked near a row of luxury vehicles. One of Jimin’s guards approached, tossing a set of keys to Jimin, who caught them and promptly threw them to Jungkook.

Jungkook snatched the keys mid-air, his reflexes sharp. “Your ride,” Jimin said, nodding toward the car. “Y/N’s at your mansion, along with everyone else. Go to her.”

Jungkook nodded, his heart racing at the thought of seeing Y/N again. “Thanks, Jimin,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Jimin’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Live the life you deserve, Jungkook,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. “Now get out of here.”

As Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat and roared the engine to life, driving off into the night, Jimin stood watching, his hands in his pockets. The Mercedes disappeared around a bend, and Jimin’s gaze lingered, a quiet wish for his new brother’s happiness settling in his chest.

Suddenly, a pair of small arms wrapped around him from behind, the embrace warm and familiar. Jimin’s lips curved into a soft smile as he turned, gently pulling his wife around to face him. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her pout exaggerated but undeniably adorable. “You’re late, Chim,” she teased, crossing her arms, her voice a playful scold. “I missed you.”

Jimin’s smile widened, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he pulled her close, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was all fire and passion, yet tender, a promise of forever. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of his love into it. When they finally parted, both breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice a low, teasing rumble. “Sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” she teased, her fingers trailing along his chest.

Jimin’s eyes glinted with playful intent, and in one swift motion, he scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder with a laugh. She squealed, her laughter echoing across the wide lawn, bright and infectious. “Jimin!” she protested, swatting his back lightly, but her giggles betrayed her delight.

Jimin gave her a light, teasing spank, his voice dripping with mischief. “I know exactly what you want, baby,” he said, striding toward the mansion’s grand entrance. The guards and maids stationed nearby exchanged knowing smiles, their heads dipping respectfully as the couple passed, their laughter a bright note in the night. Jimin carried her inside, the heavy doors closing behind them, their love a vibrant, unbreakable force that lit up the shadowed halls of the Park estate.

To be continued ..