Ruthless Mafia's Bunny

The Dark Night

The night was calm, the city lights flickering in the distance as V stood on the balcony of his office, his mind preoccupied with the recent disturbances in his territory. The air was crisp, carrying a slight chill that hinted at the approaching winter. He sipped his whiskey, his thoughts deep, when his phone buzzed on the table behind him.

Hello? V answered, his voice calm and composed, betraying none of the turmoil within.

King V, a voice on the other end sneered. It was rough, tainted with a tone of arrogance and malice. I hear you have a weakness.

V's eyes narrowed. Who is this? he demanded, his grip tightening around the glass.

Does it matter? I'm sending you a picture. I'm sure it'll bring a smile to your face, the caller said, laughing coldly before the line went dead.

V's heart pounded as his phone buzzed again, this time with a message notification. He tapped on it, and his breath caught in his throat. The image that appeared on the screen was a picture of Kook, looking vulnerable and unaware, perhaps captured without his knowledge. A smirk tugged at the corners of V's mouth, but his eyes darkened with anger.

He called Hobi immediately. Who? V asked, his tone demanding but controlled.

Who is what, V? hobi replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

Who told them? V clarified, pacing back and forth, his mind racing through possibilities. They know about Kook.

There was a pause on the other end before hobi spoke again. I'm not sure, V. But give me some time, I'll find out who's been talking.

V hung up without another word, his mind already shifting gears. This was not something he could ignore. Whoever was behind this knew too much.

Days passed, and hobi worked tirelessly, piecing together the threads of a complex web. The Russian Bratva, a notorious mafia organization known for their ruthlessness, had been making moves against V's empire for months. Their attempts had been futile—until now. hobi discovered that they had been gathering information on Kook, who was V's closest ally and, unbeknownst to many, his most treasured person.

Meanwhile, Kook continued his daily life, unaware of the shadow lurking over him. He was careful, as always, but even the most carefull can be caught off guard.

The day was like any other when Kook was kidnapped from the streets. It happened in broad daylight, in the middle of the city. He had just finished shoppig and was walking toward his car when a black van screeched to a halt beside him. Before he could react, several men jumped out, grabbing him with force. Kook fought back fiercely, his training kicking in, but they were too many. A sharp hit to the head sent him in unconsciousness, his body going limp as they took him into the van.

The van sped away, running through the streets until it reached the outskirts of the city. There, in an abandoned warehouse that served as the Bratva's headquarters, they dragged Kook inside and tied him to a chair in the center of a dimly lit room. Blood trickled down his forehead from the wound where he had been struck. His head lolled to one side as he slowly regained consciousness, the throbbing pain in his skull pulling him back to the grim reality.

Back at V's home, the atmosphere was calm, but everything shattered when V's phone rang. He picked it up, expecting another routine call, but the voice on the other end made his blood run cold.

V, the voice drawled, tauntingly familiar. Long time, no see.

V's heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice. Who is this?

Don't play dumb, V. You know who I am. The voice was full of venom, dripping with satisfaction. Check your phone.

The call went dead, and almost immediately, V received another message. He opened it, his heart pounding as he stared at the images that filled the screen. His breath hitched, and his vision blurred with rage. There was Kook, bound to a chair, blood dripping from his head, his face pale and bruised.