[IT'S CRINGE FETUS WRITING]
READ ON YOUR OWN RISK!!⚠️
Yoongi is a ruthless Mafia who disguise himself as a college student in his college (his college means he's the fucking owner of the college) for an underground mission, where he meets a sw...
The sleek black car screeched to a halt in front of one of Yoongi's many mansions. Without wasting a second, he swung open the door and stepped out, cradling Jimin in his arms. His grip was firm yet gentle, as if he feared Jimin might slip away if he let go. The mansion's guards, dressed in sharp black suits, immediately bowed, their heads lowered in deep respect, but Yoongi barely acknowledged them. His focus was solely on the unconscious man in his arms.
Jimin had lost too much blood. His once-vibrant face was now pale, his breaths shallow. He had fought to keep his eyes open throughout the drive, as if sensing Yoongi’s distress, but exhaustion had won in the end.
Yoongi’s heartbeat pounded in his ears--an unfamiliar sensation for someone who had spent years mastering indifference. Fear was foreign to him. He had faced death, betrayal, and bloodshed without flinching. But now, as he rushed inside the grand mansion and carefully laid Jimin down on the plush couch, a cold dread gripped his chest.
“Jin Hyung! Jin Hyung, come quickly!" he shouted, his voice sharp and urgent. "Jimin’s lost a lot of blood--he’s unconscious!”
Within seconds, hurried footsteps echoed down the grand staircase. Jin, dressed in his usual crisp attire, appeared with a medical kit in hand. His brows were drawn together in concern, but his movements remained steady as he knelt beside Jimin and began assessing his condition.
Yoongi stood rigidly beside them, his fists clenched as he watched Jin work. Every passing second felt like an eternity. His cold exterior remained intact, but inside, a storm was raging.
After what felt like forever, Jin finally leaned back with a sigh, wiping his hands on a clean cloth. “The wound is deep, but I’ve bandaged it properly. Jimin needs complete bed rest for at least three days--no strenuous movement, especially with his hands. Make sure he eats nutrient-rich food, and don't worry, he'll regain consciousness in a few hours.”
Yoongi gave a small nod, absorbing every word. His mind was still clouded with unease, but if Jin said Jimin would be fine, he had no choice but to trust him.
Just as Jin finished prescribing the necessary medicines, the door to the room opened, and a guard stepped in, bowing respectfully before speaking.
“Boss, Mr. Min called. He’s requesting an urgent meeting at the headquarters… and he seems tense.”
Jin frowned at this sudden piece of information, glancing at Yoongi for a reaction. But Yoongi remained still, his expression unreadable--his signature emotionless mask firmly back in place.
Yet, beneath that cold façade, his mind was already racing. Something wasn’t right. And he intended to find out exactly what was going on.
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