Mafia's Caretaker; The Devil's Cure

#8 A Ferocious Beast

Edited version 🖤🦋

The room was bathed in dim lighting, the scent of leather and expensive cologne lingering in the air. Seated on his grand leather chair, Jeon Jungkook took a long, unhurried drag from his cigarette, letting the nicotine settle deep in his lungs. The swirling smoke clouded the space around him, much like the chaos that constantly occupied his mind. He exhaled sharply, tossing the cigarette away carelessly, watching as it sizzled out against the ashtray.

A smirk ghosted his lips as his thoughts traveled back to the gym incident.

She was terrified.

Yet, despite the fear trembling in her eyes, she had tried to act bold. The way her pupils shook, exposing the anxiety beneath her façade, had not gone unnoticed by him. It was almost amusing-how she attempted to mask her fear under a guise of confidence.

His smirk, however, slowly faded.

He rolled his head from side to side, a low crack echoing through the silence as he relieved the tension in his neck. His sharp jaw clenched, the shadows of his face growing more prominent under the warm glow of the lamp.

No one could order him.
No one could control him.
He followed only his own rules.

The devil listened to nothing but his mind.

---
Jungkook didn't like the coffee-no problem. But he was definitely going to love the breakfast. After all, it was made by her. And no one, absolutely no one, could say no to her handmade food.

Or so she thought.

"Y/N, Master never eats breakfast," a maid whispered beside her, her tone laced with worry. "Your efforts will go in vain. In fact, it will only anger him more."

The words made Y/N pause, the spatula in her hand hovering over the last dish she was preparing. She turned to the maid, noticing the unease written all over her face. This wasn't just a simple warning-it was fear.

"I appreciate your concern," Y/N said with a small smile, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "But I can handle it. I just need to convince him."

The maid looked at her with pure pity. Y/N had no idea what she was getting herself into. She had seen it before-the consequences of displeasing Jungkook Jeon. He had no patience for defiance. No tolerance for things not going his way. If he decided he didn't want breakfast, then anyone who tried to change that decision would regret it.

"He won't listen, Miss Y/N," the maid insisted, shaking her head. "Master doesn't like being told what to do. It's better to let it be."

But Y/N wasn't the type to back down. She had taken this job knowing full well what kind of man Jungkook was. Ruthless. Cold. A man feared by even his own household. But that didn't mean she would tiptoe around him like everyone else.

"Is that so?" Y/N mused, tapping her chin in mock contemplation. Then, with a playful smirk, she shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that."

A nervous hush fell over the kitchen. The other staff exchanged wary glances.

She doesn't know what she's doing.

She doesn't know him.

He is cruel with no emotions.

Even though he is living, inside, he is dead.

Y/N had heard all the rumors. She had witnessed the fear in the servants' eyes when they spoke of him, how they never dared to step out of line. But she refused to be afraid. She needed to understand him. She needed to see past the walls he had built around himself.