⚠️ WARNING: EXTREME MATURE THEMES ⚠️
This story is intended for mature audiences and contains themes of violence, gore, abuse, rape, death, depression, self-harm, and anxiety. Reader discretion is advised.
New York is the most expensive city in the...
The tall man in a perfectly tucked white shirt, brunette waves falling across his forehead, smirked as if he already owned the room. His fist landed hard on the opponent's face, sending the man crashing to the ground. Without pause, he snatched up the black case handed to him minutes earlier.
The crew surrounding him reacted instantly, weapons raised, barrels aimed squarely at the brunette. But Taehyung didn't flinch.
"Shit, shit, shit—Taehyung, you fucked up!" a voice crackled in his earpiece, shouted by a man crouched behind a nearby van.
"Listen—it's fifteen against two. First priority is making it to our vehicle with the case. You know what to do," came the cold reply from Jungkook, raven-haired in a tucked grey shirt, crouched low with his gun pressed against the van's frame.
Taehyung exhaled sharply, furious eyes scanning the chaos. With one hand, he yanked a pistol from a hidden holster in his shoe, the other still gripping the collar of the man he had floored. He shoved the barrel against the captive's temple.
"Let us go, or he dies," Taehyung growled. His voice carried, echoing through the tense silence.
No one dared to move. Step by step, Taehyung dragged the leader backwards, gun unwavering. Then, in one sudden twist, the captive jerked free, shoving Taehyung off balance. The gang pounced on the chance.
Gunfire erupted.
Taehyung rolled, bullets slicing the air where he had stood.
"Jungkook! Bring the car!" he barked.
"On it!" Jungkook sprinted, pulling the car around.
"Taehyung!" he shouted. The brunette scrambled to his feet and dashed toward the vehicle, Jungkook covering him with sharp, precise shots. But then—tires burst under enemy fire.
"Fuck!" they cursed in unison.
Abandoning the disabled car, Jungkook leapt out, Taehyung diving behind its smoking shell. Both returned fire, dropping six men, nine still circling. The gang pressed closer.
Outnumbered. Outgunned. No escape.
Then—
A white Porsche 911 Turbo S screeched into the lot, clipping metal drums that scattered across the asphalt. The passenger window lowered, a steady hand extending outward—two precise shots to the skull, two enemies down. The car drifted into a sharp stop between the gang and the stranded pair.
"Hop in," a stern, cold voice called from the driver's seat.
Both men froze, stunned.
"You wanna die here?!" the voice snapped again.
Snapped back to reality, Jungkook yanked the front door open, Taehyung sliding into the back. Gunfire cracked, but the unseen driver's hand flicked from the window, dispatching another assailant while accelerating hard out of range.
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