𝔒𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔐𝔞𝔣𝔦𝔞

15

As the gunshot's echo faded into stunned silence, Hae-rin sat frozen, her heart thudding in her chest. The chaos of the party had ground to a halt, eyes wide with shock and fear all around them. Meanwhile, Taehyung stood unfazed, calmly tucking the gun back inside his coat as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. His expression was chillingly composed.

"Well," Jungkook clapped his hands together suddenly, breaking the tension with a wild grin, "that escalated quickly!"

"Dude, you couldn't have waited till after dessert?" another voice called from the crowd, drawing out a ripple of nervous laughter.

Taehyung smirked, completely ignoring the body lying on the floor. "He was ruining my appetite."

Hae-rin blinked, struggling to process how everyone was so... nonchalant about this. Was this a regular thing? *Am I the only one freaked out by a literal murder?*

Jungkook made his way to her, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry, no one will dare look at you again tonight. Taehyung's made sure of that." He winked like this was some twisted joke they were all in on.

Hae-rin felt her stomach churn. "Oh, great," she muttered under her breath. *Who knew parties in the mafia were just gunshots and casual death threats?*

Before she could say more, Taehyung grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the chair, clearly done with the party himself. "We're leaving."

"What—already?" Hae-rin stammered, feeling the cold air of the room hit her all at once. "We just got here! What about the food?"

Taehyung shot her a look as if she'd just suggested they hang out and play charades with the recently deceased. "You think I care about the food?"

"Well, I do!" Hae-rin protested, waving her hand dramatically at the untouched platters. "I didn't even get to have dessert! You could've waited *five minutes* before shooting someone!"

Jungkook burst out laughing, clearly enjoying this far too much. "I like her," he said, clapping Taehyung on the back. "Good choice."

"Oh, bite me," Hae-rin snapped, glaring at Jungkook. "Your psycho friend here just ruined my evening. And for what? Some guy glancing my way? I'm not a—"

"*Mine*," Taehyung cut in sharply, his voice low and possessive. "You're mine, Hae-rin. That's why."

Hae-rin rolled her eyes so hard she was surprised they didn't get stuck. "Yeah, yeah. Possessive mafia king, I got it. But maybe next time, how about we avoid shooting people before dessert, okay? I had my eye on that crème brûlée."

Jungkook howled with laughter, practically wheezing now. "Oh man, you're in for it, Taehyung. She's not gonna let this go."

Taehyung glared at his friend but said nothing, instead dragging Hae-rin out of the party with a determined stride. She stumbled behind him in her ridiculous dress, muttering curses under her breath.

As they made it outside, Hae-rin tried to yank her hand free from his grip. "You know," she began, panting slightly, "this whole 'shoot first, talk later' thing you've got going on? Kinda overrated. Maybe next time try using words before bullets?"

Taehyung shot her a sidelong glance, his lip twitching like he was trying not to laugh. "You're cute when you're mad."

"Oh, don't even start—" Hae-rin began, but her rant was cut short as Taehyung opened the car door for her. With an exaggerated eye roll, she got in, still fuming. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, she crossed her arms and stared out the window like an annoyed child.

Taehyung chuckled softly, sliding into the driver's seat. "What, still mad about dessert?"

"Of course I'm mad about dessert!" she snapped, turning to glare at him. "And the whole murder thing, too, but mostly the dessert!"

He let out a low laugh, the sound unexpectedly warm. "I'll buy you all the dessert you want next time."

"Oh, how generous of you, Mr. Mafia King," Hae-rin muttered sarcastically. "But next time, please try not to ruin it with a side of homicide."

Taehyung's smirk widened. "No promises."

And as they drove away from the scene, with Hae-rin still muttering about missed desserts, she couldn't help but think that her life had officially entered some kind of bizarre, mafia-themed rom-com. But as much as she hated to admit it, part of her was already looking forward to the next insane, bullet-dodging, crème brûlée-missing adventure.

But she was acting as if she had completely accepted this life, but deep down, she was scared. It was clear in her eyes.

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