Mafia's Caretaker; The Devil's Cure

#18 Party

Edited version 🖤🦋

The car’s sleek engine purred as it glided through the night, but inside, Y/n’s heart thumped like a wild drum, each beat heavier than the last. Anxiety clung to her skin like a second layer cold, unrelenting, sparking goosebumps that crept over her arms and neck. The thought of stepping into a den of Mafia, where every glance hid a threat, every smile a calculated lie, twisted her gut into knots.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and calculating, instantly catching the tremor in her expression. Without a word, he asked, low and steady, “Nervous?”

Y/n turned her head slowly, lips barely moving as her voice dropped to a fragile whisper, “I seriously don’t want to go there.”

He smirked, the kind of smirk that promised control and maybe danger. “No one’s going to touch you. Stay by my side, and you’ll be safe.”

A teasing gleam sparked in her eyes despite herself. “You’re acting like a bodyguard.”

“Want me to be your bodyguard?” His tone was taunting, but under it lingered something far more possessive.

Y/n scoffed, but her pulse betrayed her. “Pfft. Funny.”

“I’m serious. You’re doubting me now, Miss Y/n.” His voice was calm but carried an unspoken warning.

Y/n didn’t answer, instead turning her face away, cheeks flushing despite herself.

“You know I’m more than capable of guarding you.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, her cheeks burning as she glanced back at him.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, eyes returning to the road.

When the car finally stopped in front of the penthouse, Y/n blinked at him, confusion swirling. His gaze held hers, commanding. “Open the dashboard.”

She obeyed. Inside lay two exquisitely crafted masks. “Take them out.”

“What are these for?”

“We wear them before going in.” His voice was clipped, eyes cold as he held out a golden mask. “Come here.”

“Huh?”

“Do what I say.” Her throat tightened. Hesitating, she leaned forward, and he mirrored her motion. His fingers were unexpectedly gentle as he tied the ribbons behind her head, then tucked the loose ends beneath her hair with care.

“Is this a masquerade ball?” Her whisper barely carried.

“No,” he said, “but it fits the theme.”

He was about to pull away when his hand brushed her cheek, thumb trailing softly along the skin. His breath was warm, a faint scent of something intoxicating.

"Don't worry,I'll be there for you."
"I'll try to act strong."

“Why act when you already are?” His voice dropped lower, teasing. “Just bring out the wildcat that talks back to me fearlessly.”

Y/n pouted, nodding with newfound confidence.

“And don’t embarrass me. I have a reputation to maintain unlike you.” His tone hardened as he flicked her forehead.

“Oww! You heartless devil.”

“You haven’t even seen my devil side yet,” he warned. “And a word of advice never do anything to provoke me, or you’ll meet the real devil.” With that, he stepped out of the car.

Y/n rolled her eyes under her mask. “As if he ever behaved like a gentleman.” She muttered as she followed him.

Clutching his arm tightly, her body pressed close, they entered the venue together. A sweet melody floated through the lavish hall, the sound weaving between the crowd like silk. Y/n’s gaze darted nervously over the sprawling space, dazzled by sparkling chandeliers and flashing lights.