"I promised you, didn't I? That I would make your victory feel miserable."
Life sucks when you've got a lot of demons in your head to deal with. Add fucked law system and constant crimes all over the world to the list. And there's nothing you can do...
Jimin scoffed internally at the absurdity of the situation. His arms, usually reserved for crime scene investigations and self-defense maneuvers, were currently looped around the toned bicep of Kim Taehyung, his supposed "date" for the evening. The air crackled with a nervous energy that had nothing to do with the flashing cameras and the throng of people gathered at the entrance of Kim Jaesoo's extravagant gala.
Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be in his element. Clad in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that accentuated his shoulders and narrow waist, he exuded a nonchalant charm that made every head turn. His dark hair, usually styled in a carefree mess, was swept back, revealing a sharp jawline and eyes that sparkled with a mischievous amusement. Jimin, despite his best efforts, couldn't help but steal glances.
Just as Jimin was about to subtly adjust his arm position⏤ anything to create some personal space— the doors whooshed open, announcing their arrival. A hush fell over the extravagant ballroom. Flashing cameras momentarily blinded Jimin, their pops echoing in the sudden silence. Whispers rippled through the crowd like a gentle breeze.
"Who's that with Taehyung?"
"Isn't that Kim Jaesoo's brother?"
"They look. . . familiar."
Jimin stole a glance at Taehyung, hoping for some sort of cue, some reassurance that this elaborate charade was actually working. But Taehyung just smirked, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. Across the room, perched on a plush velvet throne-like chair, sat Kim Jaesoo himself. His face, usually a mask of cool indifference, contorted into a thunderous scowl. His glare was aimed squarely at them, a silent accusation that burned through Jimin. If looks could kill, Jimin was sure he'd be a smoldering pile of ash on the plush red carpet.
Taehyung, however, seemed completely unfazed. He held his head high, a playful challenge in his eyes as he met his brother's venomous gaze. Jimin couldn't decide which was more terrifying⏤ the icy fury radiating from Kim Jaesoo or the impish grin plastered on Taehyung's face.
"Well, Detective," Taehyung murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down Jimin's spine, "looks like we made an entrance." Jimin swallowed, his smile feeling more like a grimace. "Seems like it," he muttered back, his voice barely a whisper. He knew this whole "fake date" business was a recipe for disaster, but he hadn't anticipated disaster to look this handsome, this infuriatingly charming.
The air crackled not just with nervous energy, but with a silent family drama unfolding. Kim Jaesoo rose from his velvet throne, his scowl deepening as he stalked towards them. The crowd, sensing the tension, parted, creating a path for the fuming CEO.
