"The Kim Dynasty: Secrets of the Heart"

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Chapter: The King’s Leap

It had been three months since the incidents at the university and the return of Tae and Jungkook. Life at the Kim mansion had regained a sense of normalcy, and Namjoon, who had been away on important business in America, continued his promise to Jin. Every day, without fail, Namjoon FaceTimed his lover, making sure to stay connected despite the physical distance between them. But as fate would have it, the peace was not meant to last.

On this particular day, Namjoon was deep in the trenches of his mafia dealings, leading his team with his usual ruthlessness. However, during an unexpected clash with another powerful mafia gang, things took a dark turn. To protect his team, Namjoon was forced to engage in the fight himself. In the midst of the chaos, he was shot—right in the shoulder. Namjoon barely flinched, but what followed was far more dangerous than the wound itself.

A member of the opposing gang, seizing the opportunity, filmed the moment Namjoon was shot. The footage was promptly uploaded to social media, and within hours, rumors exploded: The great mafia king Kim Namjoon had been killed.

The news spread like wildfire, shaking the underworld and even mainstream media. Kim Namjoon’s enemies rejoiced at the rumor of his death, while his allies and the general public were thrown into disarray. Many who feared Namjoon were too shocked to believe the news. The video, though compelling, seemed too far-fetched for those who knew the man. Some believed the footage was edited; others were certain that Namjoon could not have been taken down by a single bullet. Still, the world buzzed with uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Namjoon, having been urgently flown back to Korea, was receiving treatment at the world’s best hospital. Despite the severity of the rumors, Namjoon was far from death. His body, hardened by years of battle, had been through much worse. A single bullet to the shoulder was nothing for him. After all, his strength, both physical and mental, was what had earned him the title of mafia king.

What Namjoon didn’t realize, though, was the chaos that awaited him. Yoongi, who had stayed behind in Korea, had already sensed something amiss. He, too, had seen the viral video and knew exactly what it would do to those close to Namjoon—especially Jin. Yoongi wasted no time deploying his fleet of artificial drones, disguised as tiny insects, to gather information. One of the drones spotted something that made Yoongi’s heart drop into his stomach: Jin was standing on the edge of a towering building, his face streaked with tears.

Yoongi’s chest tightened. He immediately rushed to Namjoon’s hospital room and, without a word, showed him the live footage. Namjoon’s eyes widened, and without hesitation, he tore out the IVs from his arms, ignoring his mother’s protests. The calm, collected Namjoon the Kim family knew was gone, replaced by a man driven by sheer panic.

Namjoon sprinted out of the hospital, his heart hammering in his chest as he jumped into his car. His family, confused and concerned, crowded around Yoongi to see what had spurred Namjoon into such a state. When Mrs. Kim saw the sight of Jin, standing on the building’s ledge, she gasped, her voice trembling. “Is he real? Are you watching some kind of animation?” she asked in disbelief, her mind unable to process the image of the ethereal beauty on the screen, looking so fragile and yet mesmerizing.

Yoongi remained silent, focused on tracking Namjoon’s car via GPS. “Mom, just wait. Namjoon will explain everything later,” he said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

As Namjoon’s car sped toward the building, the roads seemed to clear ahead of him as if the world itself recognized the urgency of the mafia king’s mission. Cars pulled aside, pedestrians froze, and the city seemed to hold its breath. In the back of Namjoon’s mind, he replayed the words Jin had said to him during their daily calls—the love, the vulnerability, the unspoken fear. Jin can’t… he wouldn’t… But as he neared the building, fear twisted in his gut.

Namjoon screeched to a stop at the base of the towering structure, his heart racing. He dashed inside, his legs moving as if by instinct, taking the stairs two at a time. When he reached the roof, his breath caught in his throat.

There was Jin, standing on the ledge, his back to Namjoon. His shoulders were shaking, his tears falling into the abyss below. “Jin!” Namjoon shouted, but his voice didn’t reach in time.

Jin turned, his tear-streaked face pale and heartbroken. “I can’t live without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he let himself fall forward, into the void.

Without thinking, Namjoon leaped from the building after him, his heart and soul in freefall. The world blurred around him, but his focus was singular: Jin. With a supernatural grace born from years of experience and perhaps something more, Namjoon caught Jin mid-air, wrapping his arms around his lover in a protective hold. The two of them descended, not with the force of the fall, but as though gravity itself bent to Namjoon’s will. They landed softly, Namjoon’s feet touching the ground as he held Jin in his arms, bridal style.

Jin had fainted from the shock and exhaustion, his body limp in Namjoon’s grasp. Namjoon looked down at him, his heart swelling with relief and anguish. But then his eyes caught sight of something strange—standing a short distance away was Jin’s grandmother, watching them with cold, unfeeling eyes. Her gaze was filled not with love, but with something much darker: hatred.

Why had she not stopped Jin from jumping? Why was she here, watching the man she claimed to adore with such disdain?

The answers to those questions were beyond Namjoon’s understanding in that moment. But one thing was clear: something deeper was at play.