✨THE COLD PORT✨

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I woke up to the soft chill of the morning air, wrapped in warmth I didn't remember seeking.

A pillow. A blanket.

I blinked, disoriented, shifting slightly on the balcony couch where I had fallen asleep. I hadn't brought these.

He did.

Jungkook.

This man.

Even when I tried to escape, even after everything that had happened—he still did things like this. Small, silent gestures that made my heart twist. That made me second-guess everything.

I clenched my jaw, gripping the fabric in my hands.

What was I supposed to do with this? With him?

I curled deeper into the blanket, staring out at the horizon, but no amount of sunrise could clear the storm inside me,

---

The day started like any other—silent, empty, isolating.

Until my phone rang.

The name flashing across the screen made my breath catch.

Dad.

I hadn't heard from him in weeks. Not since that night.

My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally pressed accept, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Hello?" My voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N," his voice came through, hesitant. Unfamiliar.

"How are you?"

I swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. "I'm... okay, I guess."

A lie. But wasn't that what we did? Lie to each other?

"What's going on?"

There was a pause. A hesitation. My father was a lot of things, but hesitant was never one of them.

"I need you to do me a favor."

Something about the way he said it sent a ripple of unease down my spine.

"What is it?"

"Go to Jungkook's office. Get a red file labeled 'Mission Z.' Bring it to the address I'll send you. Don't tell anyone. Come alone."

I frowned. "Why me?"

His tone sharpened. "Just do as I say. It's Mr. Jeon's order."

My stomach dropped.

"Mr. Jeon—"

"Goodbye, Y/N."

The call disconnected.

I stared at my screen, my mind spinning.

This wasn't right. None of this was right.

But I had no choice.

---

The halls of Jungkook's office felt eerily empty as I walked through them, my fingers tightening around my phone.

I found the file easily.

Red.

Mission Z.

The bold letters glared up at me like a warning.

My father had told me not to question. Not to tell anyone.

But my instincts screamed at me—this is a trap.

From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story [JJK]Where stories live. Discover now