Mafia's Caretaker; The Devil's Cure

#21 Outraged Hana

Edited version 🖤🦋
(I tried to improve it. I hope I was successful)😚

Another update 🙂🔪

Jungkook scoffed the moment he noticed Y/N trailing behind him like a sulking child desperate for attention after being scolded. The sight almost tugged something in his chest. almost.

“Mr. Jeon, you left midway. Is everything alright?” Mr. Joseph asked as the two of them approached.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said curtly, sliding into his seat again. Mr. Joseph followed, taking the seat opposite. Y/N hesitated beside them, head bowed.

Jungkook’s patience snapped.

Without even looking at her, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down, making her stumble into the seat beside him with a small gasp. Before she could even recover, his hand found her waist, firm and possessive, drawing her close enough to silence any doubt about her place beside him.

“I’m looking forward to your offer, Mr. Joseph,” Jungkook said coldly. “But a word of caution don’t play smart with me. If you want to work with me, you’d better be faithful. No second chances.”

Mr. Joseph gulped and gave a nervous nod. “R-rest assured, Mr. Jeon. I’ll take my leave. Thank you for your time. See you at the office tomorrow.”

The man didn’t wait for a reply before hurrying off.

Now that they were alone, the silence between them thickened laced with unspoken tension and restrained emotions. Y/n shifted, trying to wiggle out of Jungkook’s grip.

“Leave me,” she said, not quite looking at him.

He didn’t budge. Didn’t even blink.

“Jungkook, my back’s hurting. At least let me sit properly,” she muttered, voice low with a hint of weariness.

Only then did his grip loosen just enough for her to adjust herself on the couch. She shifted with a small wince, straightening her posture. As soon as she settled, his arm found its way back around her waist. Not as tight this time. Just... there.

She didn’t say anything.

He reached into his coat, pulling out a slim packet of cigarettes and a lighter with practiced ease.

“Light it,” he said, voice quiet.

Instead of obeying, Y/n snatched both items from his hand, hiding them behind her back like a child refusing to give up a toy.

“No. You won’t use it.”

He let out a breath, sharp and controlled, like he was forcing himself to stay calm. “Y/n.”

“No.”

“Give it back.”

“I won’t.”

Y/n know it's not good arguing with him but smoking is harmful for his health.

Her breath hitched when his palm, which had been resting on the side of her waist, slid slowly toward her abdomen. The movement was unhurried but full of intent. His grip tightened, fingers digging in just enough to make her skin burn beneath his touch, coaxing a shuddered breath from her lips.

Her eyes flew up to meet his and in the very next second, he jerked her closer. Much closer.

With a sharp gasp, one of her hands landed on his chest for balance. Their faces were now just inches apart, their breaths colliding and mingling in the heavy, charged air between them. In her other hand, she still held the lighter and cigarette, her fingers clenching around them with almost painful force.