The Black rose (Minsung ff)

A Deal with the Devil.

Jisung felt a rush of heat crawl up his neck, and before he could stop it, a faint blush bloomed across his cheeks. He bit down on his bottom lip, trying to steady himself, but the way Minho's eyes bored into him made it impossible to hide his nervousness.

His heart pounded in his chest, though he wasn't sure if it was purely from fear or... something else.

"Come kitten," Minho's voice cut through the silence, smooth and commanding, but with an underlying softness. He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."

Jisung hesitated for a moment, his legs stiff and unsteady as he shuffled forward. He could feel the weight of Minho's gaze, watching his every move, but something about it wasn't as predatory as before. Still, the uncertainty gnawed at him as he took a seat, his fingers fidgeting nervously in his lap.

Minho leaned back in his chair, folding his arms casually, but his eyes never left Jisung. There was a calmness in the air now, as if the man in front of him was no longer the same cold, calculating crime lord who had overseen his torture.

"You must be in pain," Minho said, his tone gentle but firm. Jisung's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected statement. An apology? From him?

The silence stretched between them as Minho leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, his gaze softening just a little. "I didn't want that to happen. The torture, I mean." His voice lowered, almost as if it were hard for him to admit. "That wasn't my intention. If I had known... things would have been different."

Jisung blinked, the words not quite sinking in. An apology? From Minho? The Black Rose, one of the most feared men in the world? His shock was evident, but he didn't know how to respond. His leg still throbbed, his body still ached from the hours of torment, but the genuine tone in Minho's voice caught him off guard.

"You..." Jisung swallowed, his throat still dry, but his curiosity got the better of him. "You didn't know? About the torture?"

Minho's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his expression before he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I knew you had to be questioned. But not like that. Not that kind of brutality. I gave orders to find out what you knew, but my men took it too far."

Jisung sat there, stunned, his heart racing in confusion. The Minho sitting in front of him now seemed so different from the one who ruled the Black Roses with an iron fist. This Minho was... almost human.

"I..." Jisung started, then hesitated, his mind spinning. "I thought—"

Minho raised a hand to stop him. "I know what you thought. But I have my reasons for everything I do, Jisung."

There was something soothing in the way Minho spoke his name, something that made Jisung's racing heart slow just a little. He didn't trust him—how could he after everything?—but there was a strange, unspoken understanding between them now. Jisung still felt fear, but beneath it was an odd sense of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, a bit of comfort.

Minho noticed the slight shift in Jisung's posture. His eyes softened further, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "You're safe now. As long as you're here, no one will hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

Jisung wanted to believe him, but his natural defensiveness kicked in. "And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" he replied, his voice sharper than he intended. But there was a hint of playfulness in his tone, almost like he was testing the waters. "After you had me locked up and tortured? Seems like a stretch, don't you think?"

Minho's brows raised slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I see your spirit's not completely broken yet," he mused, leaning back in his chair. "Good. I like that."

Jisung blinked, surprised by his own boldness. He hadn't meant to snap back like that, but something about Minho's presence—dominant, yet calm—made him feel oddly secure. Almost like he could push the limits a bit without real consequences.

"So, what now?" Jisung asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. "Am I supposed to just sit here and pretend none of that happened? Or do you have another grand plan for me?"

Minho chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're not a prisoner anymore, if that's what you're asking. You're..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "Let's just say, your status here is different now."

Jisung raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a small, almost teasing smile. "Oh? So what am I now? Your little pet?"

Minho's gaze darkened slightly, but the smirk on his face remained. "Something like that."

A silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Jisung found himself relaxing, the initial terror slowly fading as he met Minho's gaze. There was still fear, of course, but it was mingled with something else now—something almost thrilling.

"I don't get you," Jisung said, his voice softer this time, more genuine. "One second, you're the big, bad mafia boss, and the next you're..." He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Minho tilted his head, studying him carefully. "And the next I'm what?"

Jisung shrugged, the playful edge returning to his voice. "Soft."

Minho's eyes narrowed, though the corners of his lips twitched as if fighting back a smile. "Careful, princess. You're playing a dangerous game."

Jisung's heart fluttered at the nickname, the way it rolled off Minho's tongue so effortlessly. He wasn't sure why it affected him so much, but he felt a warmth spread through him despite the situation. Maybe it was the way Minho looked at him now—not like a prisoner or a pawn, but something else entirely.

Something more.

He leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the edge of the chair. "So what now?" he asked, his voice a little more serious. "What do you want from me? Why am I even here?"

Minho leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The tension in the air shifted, turning from playful to something heavier, something charged with anticipation.

"You are free to go," Minho said quietly, his eyes locking onto Jisung's with an intensity that made his breath catch.

Jisung stared at the older man in confusion and disbelief. They were just going to let him go? The Black Rose, known for his merciless reputation, was offering him a way out? It didn't add up. How could someone so feared, so powerful, suddenly decide to show mercy?

The youngers were a whirlwind of uncertainty and suspicion, but before he could fully process it, Minho's voice interrupted the silence. "But," the older man continued, his tone casual yet commanding, "you'll need to sign a contract first. It ensures that you won't speak a word of what you've seen here or leak any of the information you've come across."

The idea of a contract made Jisung's heart pound harder. He had expected a catch, of course, there would be one. There always was. His chest tightened at the thought of being tied down to these people, to Minho. Even if he was allowed to leave, would he ever really be free? What would the contract be about? What if he refused to sign it?

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Do y'all like it so far? I would love some comments. 
-aanya :)