From Reluctance to Desire: A Mafia Story [JJK]

✨THE PRICE OF TOUCHING HER✨

The air between us had changed. That kiss—that moment—had rewritten everything. We never spoke about it, but it lingered in the way his hand would brush against mine, the way his gaze would soften for just a second too long before he looked away. It wasn't possession; it was something deeper—a silent, unbreakable vow.

Then came the night of his father's extravagant party, a gathering of the underworld's most powerful figures. The air was thick with whispered deals and hidden threats, but none of that made me nervous. Jungkook did.

Since that kiss, he had become even more protective. Not suffocating, not controlling—just there. A constant presence at my side, like he was making sure nothing, no one, could touch me.

He was unreadable as ever, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, exuding effortless dominance. His dark eyes swept over the room, assessing every face, every movement, like he was memorizing threats before they could even think to act. And when his gaze met mine, it softened—just barely—but enough to make my breath hitch.

The night was a blur of polite smiles and empty words. Jungkook never strayed far, his touch a quiet reassurance—fingers brushing against mine, the warmth of his palm at the small of my back, a silent reminder that he was watching over me.

But the night was chaotic, and at some point, I found myself alone. I had slipped away to find a moment of quiet, needing a break from the suffocating atmosphere. The restroom offered a brief reprieve—until it didn't.

As I turned to leave, a hand shot out, gripping my arm like iron. I froze, my breath catching. A man stood far too close, his leering grin sending a chill down my spine. His expensive suit and air of arrogance screamed power, but his eyes were filled with something dark and vile.

"Hey there, beautiful," he slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. "What's a pretty thing like you doing here alone?"

"I'm not alone," I said firmly, jerking my arm back, but his grip tightened, yanking me closer.

"Oh, come on," he sneered, his other hand sliding down my back, too low. "Don't act like you don't want a little fun."

Panic surged through me as I struggled to pull away. "Let go of me!"

"Feisty," he mocked, laughing. "I like that." His hand began to wander lower, and I felt my stomach twist in horror.

Summoning all my strength, I shoved him back and darted out of the restroom. My heart was pounding, my only thought to find Jungkook. But before I could get far, the man followed, grabbing my arm once again in the middle of the crowded hall.

"What's the rush, darling?" he taunted, his tone dripping with malice. "I'm not done with you."

Suddenly, everything stopped. The man froze, his face paling as a shadow loomed over us.

"Take your fucking hand off her."

The voice was low, cold, and absolutely lethal.

I turned to see Jungkook standing there, his expression carved from stone, his dark eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. He grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him away from me with terrifying force.

"You don't know who you just messed with," Jungkook spat, his voice venomous.

The man stammered, clearly not realizing who I was—. "I-I didn't know she was yours—"

"You didn't know?" Jungkook roared, slamming him against the nearest wall. "So that makes it okay, huh? Grabbing women who don't belong to you? Touching her like she's fucking yours?"