𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊

6

Y/N'S POV-

He was my warden, though, wasn't he?

Because I couldn't leave. Not without him seeking out and destroying everyone I loved. I could never let that happen.

I actually felt tired from the whole thing. It didn't help that I'd been locked in that dark room with no window or hope for escape. Each moment inside there had the walls closing in tighter and tighter until it seemed like all the air had gotten sucked up, making my chest heavy and my throat tight.

That was when I finally broke down and lost the battle with the tears. I didn't want to shed them. I didn't want to be that weak. But I'd had issues with small spaces ever since I'd gotten myself trapped inside a shed at my Aunt's farm once. I'd been stuck there for almost twelve hours and had been almost out of my mind with fear by the time the family found me.

It had been an issue ever since.

I actually felt like I was choking a bit when I had to step into my closet to find something in the corner of it.

So being in that little rooms for hours had set my anxiety through the roof. Then to be dragged out to see my family there, to hear that I was being used as some sort of white flag in their war, and to realize that if I didn't let myself be used that way, my loved ones would die, well, yeah, it was no wonder I literally felt a little unstable on my own two feet. And as for my head, well, it kept shooting off in a dozen different directions every second.

I needed to focus.

Even as I thought that, though, a ring was what I first saw.

And, God, what a ring.

I didn't want to like it. It was a fancier version of the cuff he'd taken off my wrist. It was a symbol of my imprisonment, of his ownership of me.

But the part of me that had always loved unique jewelry was a little fluttery at what the man who was going to be my husband had picked out.

It was oddly fitting.

For a man as dark as him.

It was a symbol of that darkness.

And my attachment to it.

For life.

My stomach sloshed at that realization, immediately spoiling my enjoyment of the ring itself. How could I like it when I knew what is symbolized? A life with a monster in a man's clothing. The loss of all my hopes and dreams for my future.

I couldn't fall for Jeon Jungkook.

Even if he was, objectively, attractive. Darkly attractive, if that was a thing.

He was a psychopath who used his position and power and money to bend people to his will. I had absolutely no doubt that the reason no one helped me on the street was because he ran his neighborhood with an iron fist. He kept good, normal citizens terrified of him and what he might do to them if they stepped into his business.

That was the kind of evil bastard I was marrying.

The kind I would need to share a bed with.

"Y/N" jungkook's voice snapped, the sound like a whip cracking in the oversized, silent space, making my head whip up to find him looking down at me, those dark eyes unreadable.

"What?"

"Your hand" he said, tone impatient.

"You're showing sympathy now?" I asked, but I raised my hand. "This was your plan," I reminded him.