His Darkest Desire ||Taekook||

chapter eighteen

Junghyun's heart races as he feels the cold metal press firmly against his forehead, sending chills down his spine. He knows exactly what could happen if he makes one wrong move. The dull ache from Jimin's punch still lingers in his jaw, reminding him just how real this threat is. Taking a deep breath, Junghyun slowly takes a step back, keeping eye contact with each of them. Jimin remains stoic, showing no signs of anger or frustration, while Yoongi simply watches, arms crossed over his chest, looking bored yet ready to pounce at any moment.

"Look, sir—I— He cuts himself off abruptly when he locks eyes with Jungkook's piercing gaze. Something about those dark, stormy eyes sends an involuntary shiver down his spine. It wasn't just fear—it was recognition. A warning.

Today had already been bad enough—too many wrong turns, too many mistakes—but now, standing face-to-face with Jungkook, Junghyun felt like the walls were closing in. The barrel of the gun pressed cold against his chest, steady and unwavering.

Junghyun swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm. If he moved too fast, if he made one wrong decision, everything could go sideways in seconds. But if he waited—if he played along long enough—he might just get a chance to act.

"You'd probably claim none of this is fair and I shouldn't be doing it," he said with a smirk, eyes glinting mischievously. "But we both know you're an expert at pushing people's buttons and getting under their skin. Of course I'm keeping my cool, unlike Yoongi over there."

He gestured towards Yoongi, who stood trembling with barely contained rage. The rise and fall of Yoongi's chest was visible even from across the room as he struggled for control. His hands were balled into fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned a stark white, veins bulging beneath the strain. A muscle twitched erratically in Yoongi's clenched jaw as he ground his teeth together, face flushed crimson with fury held back by a thread.

"You're one to talk!" Junghyun snaps, his voice trembling near the end. "I stood by you from the moment you took your father's place. But the day you murdered my family, any loyalty I had for you died with them."
Jungkook raises an eyebrow, a cold chuckle slipping past his lips.

"I didn't know your wife was into drugs—let alone dealing them across districts. She was costing me clients. As for your kids... she's the one who got them killed. Can't say the same for her, though—I had to take care of that myself. She started meddling in my business, and I don't tolerate parasites. So I did what had to be done... helped them dig their own graves."

Jungkook's smirk deepens as he catches the pale, stricken look on Junghyun's face. He doesn't bother to hide his satisfaction—it's exactly the reaction he expected.
Truth be told, Jungkook rarely dirtied his own hands. Killing wasn't his role; that responsibility typically fell to Jimin, who carried out orders with precision. Jungkook merely gave the word.

The drug business? That had been his father's creation—a ruthless but effective way to expand their empire and inflate profits. Jungkook never cared much for the mess of it. He preferred to keep his hands clean while others handled the blood and shadows.

Junghyun's cheeks flush crimson as a surge of adrenaline courses through his veins. Unable to contain his rage any longer, he lunges forward with surprising speed and force, his fist connecting squarely with Jungkook's midsection. The sudden impact catches the unsuspecting Jungkook off guard, driving the air from his lungs in a pained gasp. As Jungkook doubles over, momentarily incapacitated, Junghyun seizes the opportunity. His trembling hands grasp the fallen gun, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. The room falls deathly silent, all eyes fixed on Junghyun as he brandishes the weapon with unsteady aim, its barrel now trained upon the trio who remain rooted to the spot, their bodies rigid with tension and fear etched across their faces.