FATE'S GAME | | BTS FF (18+)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KIM ISHITA

The sound of crystal clinking echoed faintly from the dining table, the only noise in the cavernous penthouse. Taehyung sat at the head of it, jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled up, glass of whiskey in his hand.

He hadn't said a word to me since last night. Since I told him about Reyansh.

Silence from him was worse than rage. Rage I could fight, endure, even throw back at him. But silence? Silence was a battlefield where I didn't know the rules.

I pushed food around my plate, appetite gone, and risked a glance at him. His eyes weren't on the glass, or the city beyond the windows. They were on me. Steady. Heavy. As if he was waiting for me to break first.

"You haven't eaten," he said finally, his voice low.

"I'm not hungry," I murmured.

"Not hungry, or too restless?"

I froze, my fork clattering against porcelain. His gaze sharpened at the sound, a hawk catching the slightest movement.

"I'm not restless," I lied, too quickly.

He leaned back in his chair, tilting the glass lazily in his hand. "You're restless every time you lie."

Heat crept up my neck, frustration bubbling. "Not everything is about lies, Mr Kim "

"Isn't it?" His voice was quiet, but it cut through me anyway. "Your father built his empire on lies. Reyansh thrives on lies. And you..." His eyes dragged over me, deliberate, lingering.

"...you keep trying to convince yourself that you're not caught between them." The words stung because they were too close to the truth.

"I'm not them," I whispered.

For a heartbeat, something flickered in his expression ....not cruelty, not coldness, but something rawer, sharper. He set the glass down, the sound ringing against the table like a verdict.

"No," he said softly. "You're not. That's why you terrify me more than either of them."

The words lodged in my chest, heavy, impossible. Terrify him? Me? I almost laughed except nothing about his expression suggested a joke.

His eyes were unflinching, as though he'd just confessed something he shouldn't have.

My pulse stuttered. "You don't get scared easily, Mr. Kim."

His mouth curved not a smile, not really. More like the shadow of one, dark and humorless. "Exactly. Which is why you should ask yourself why you're the exception."

The air thickened, dense enough to choke me. I wanted to look away, to break the tension crackling like static between us, but I couldn't. His stare pinned me to my seat, demanding an answer I didn't have.

My voice barely steady. "Maybe it isn't me you're afraid of. Maybe it's what I remind you of."

He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, and suddenly the distance between us felt far too small.

"Careful, Ishita," he said, his voice low, threading into me like smoke. "You're not as safe from me as you think."

With that he stood up and walked away leaving me fighting with my inner turmoil.