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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KIM TAEHYUNG

"And what if I do? What if I burn everything you built, and I use your lessons to do it?"

A ghost of a smile touched my lips as I recalled her challenge. She had fire in her. She had courage. She had no idea the danger she was in. She thought her father and Reyansh were her only enemies, but the truth was, she was her own greatest threat.

She was too trusting, too naive, too full of a light that would be extinguished the moment she truly stepped into the dark.

"Then I'll stop you."

"You're too sure of yourself,"  She whispered.

"No, Treasure. I'm too sure of you."

The endearment had slipped out, a moment of weakness I immediately regretted. I had let my guard down.

She had a way of doing that, of chipping away at my resolve with a single question, a single glance. She was an anomaly in my carefully constructed life, a variable I couldn't control.

I had no right to feel like this. No right to let a single syllable rearrange the geometry of my life. Still, I let it sit there, humming.

She tightened her grip on the dagger as if to anchor herself. I wanted to tell her to drop it. I wanted to tell her a thousand other things I'd never allow myself to say.

Instead I did the only sensible thing I'd been taught to do in a thousand crises

I masked.

"Enough," I said, the word a blade. "Today is done."

.......

......... Next day

I staged a dinner in the dining room - candles, two empty chairs at the far end, an olive tray for authenticity. I briefed her like a general.

"You will be bored," I said.

"You will be watched. Someone will try to make you slip with nostalgia or charm. Your job is to let them talk until they are empty. Then you ask one question that makes them reveal a seam."

She practiced the tilt of a polite smile, the small nods that give strangers permission to speak. I coached her voice softer, curious, but with an undertow.

She learned to ask about the small tragedies people use to define themselves. When she did it right, men spilled the truth like coins. Both of us watched their faces more than their words.

After the mock dinner, she poured herself a glass of water with a practiced hand. "That felt... wrong," she admitted.

"Good," I replied. "If you leave a room feeling wrong, you've probably done it right. Truth hurts."

.......

The next day, I cleared the mat and left only the walls. No props. No distractions.

"Today, you don't get a weapon," I told her. "Your body is your weapon."

She folded her arms. "That sounds unfair."

"Unfair is reality," I replied, stepping closer until her back brushed against the wall. "Your enemies won't wait for you to feel prepared."

Her breath caught, but she lifted her chin. Stubborn. Always stubborn.

I pressed my palm lightly to her shoulder. "When someone corners you ......your first instinct will be to freeze." I leaned in, lowering my voice. "Freezing gets you killed. You move. Always. Even if it's the wrong move, it's better than none."