Vipers in the Lake | BTS Gang x Reader

19. The Dress

Those two words crashed into you, confirming your worst fear. 

My fiancée.

Mr Park walked into the room, gaze flitting around the various furniture. It was as if he hadn't seen it before, despite owning the entire estate.

"Hm," he mused. "This is a nice room. I haven't ever been in the west wing."

Oh. He hadn't seen it.

Choosing not to think to much about the immensity of this man's wealth and, most likely consequentially, the immensity of his power, you backed slowly and carefully away from the path he was slowly picking toward you.

"I won't marry you." Your voice came out more strongly than you had expected. Mr Park's eyes crinkled with a wry smile as he looked down at you. 

"You will, Y/n. You will marry me tomorrow." He fixed you with a cold stare as he spoke, and then began to peruse around the room again, picking a stray thread out of the bedspread here and opening a random drawer there. "Your parents told me what happened," he continued. "Why they wanted to bring it forward. Tell me, Y/n, who were you speaking to on the phone?"

You stayed silent, staring back at him blankly. He waited for a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Well, it doesn't matter. You won't be speaking to them again."

You jolted suddenly, remembering the hair clip. Where was it? The pocket of your hoodie? Eunhae and Daewoo had left the dirty clothes in the bathroom, but it wasn't like you could go in there now and check it was still there. Not with Mr Park here. Seeing the look on your face, Mr Park frowned. 

"Um," you said quickly, trying to redirect the conversation. "Why are you doing this?" You gestured to the room around you, the house around you. "You're plenty rich. It can't be for money."

"You're right," Mr Park said softly, walking toward you. He paused in front of you, and lifted a hand to twirl a loose strand of hair around his finger. You shivered in disgust. "It isn't for money." You jumped slightly when you felt his fat finger tracing the skin where your shorts fell to. Outrage and frustration and fear swelled inside of you and, with a rush of adrenaline, you slapped his hand away, jumping onto and over the other side of the bed. His face contorted, frown deepening and eyes darkening in anger. 

"Very well," he gave you a significant look, straightening the lapel of his tux. "I suppose it would be better to leave that for the wedding night." He cleared his throat, heading over to the door as you watched, completely on edge. His hand curled around the doorknob, pulling it open and stepping half-out. His eyes met yours again, something dark and depraved within them. 

"If you ever hit me again, I will kill you."

And then, he was gone.

The blood rushed from your head again, leaving you feeling faint and sliding into a heap on the floor. You pushed back the urge to cry, to give into the anguish and terror you were feeling. This was a very, very dangerous man. And tomorrow, you were to be married to him.

Would the others be able to come for you? Would they put two-and-two together? Realise that the plan involved Mr Park? You hadn't been able to tell Yoongi what you had found out before your Father had caught you with the phone.

Trying to calm your heart rate, you slipped over to the door, flicking the lock shut. The bathroom tiles were still wet as you slid across them, hands diving straight into the pile of empty clothes. You waited to feel the hard plastic of the hair clip, the smoothness of it in your palm. But your hands only ran over fabric, fabric and more fabric.