From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story [JJK]

✨UNSPOKEN DEPARTURES✨

The door slammed shut, leaving behind an echo that reverberated in my chest. My breath caught in my throat as the weight of his absence sank in like a stone. Jungkook had left without even looking back.

I stood frozen in the dining room, my hands trembling as frustration and hurt battled inside me. How could he just walk away like that?

My legs felt weak, and I collapsed into the chair he had vacated moments ago. My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into my palms as I stared at the empty space he left behind. The silence in the house felt louder than our argument, suffocating and unbearable.

Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. No. Not this time. I wasn't going to sit here and cry over him. Not when I had no idea where the hell he even went.

Anger simmered beneath my skin. He always did this. Pulled me close, made me believe I meant something to him, and then—just like that—pushed me away like I was nothing. Like we were nothing.

One moment, he'd hold me like I was the only thing keeping him sane. The next, he'd act like I was an inconvenience, someone to be avoided.

And now?

---

 He had been gone for days.

Days.

Jungkook never left like this. Not without at least letting me know he was okay. Not without sending something—a text, a call, anything. The silence stretched on, gnawing at me like a relentless storm.

I exhaled sharply, grabbing my phone off the table and dialing his number.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Voicemail.

I clenched my jaw, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. "Jungkook," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "Call me back."

I hung up, staring at the screen, willing it to light up with his name. But nothing came.

The anger inside me boiled over. With a sharp cry of frustration, I threw my phone onto the couch, pacing the room.

Why is he doing this?

The questions swirled in my mind, relentless and unforgiving. Was he avoiding me? Or had something—something bad—happened to him?

That thought sent ice through my veins. Jungkook had dangerous enemies. He was the leader of the Black Rose, and his world wasn't one where people disappeared for innocent reasons.

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. No. No, he was fine. He had to be fine.

But the uncertainty clawed at me, merciless and cruel.

---

By the second day, I couldn't pretend anymore.

The fear, the anger, the ache of missing him—it was tearing me apart.

I sat curled up on the couch, phone in hand, staring at the screen. My call logs were filled with his name. Dozens of unanswered calls. Messages left on read.

Where are you?

At least tell me you're okay.

Jungkook, don't do this.