Twisted Devotion | taekook

chapter. 16

Jungkook allowed himself one night to wallow in self-pity.

After assessing the shop’s damage, he went home, showered, and fell asleep wrapped in a heavy sense of disappointment. But somewhere between Saturday night and the early hours of Sunday, that disappointment hardened into something sharper, more focused—determination.

For years, he’d lived life on the sidelines. Now that he’d finally dared to step out of his comfort zone, was he really going to let the first hurdle knock him down?

The damage was only physical; it wasn’t a death sentence or financial ruin. His problem was fixable. At worst, he’d have to push back the grand opening and take a loss on the nonrefundable costs, like the catering.

With that thought, Jungkook spent the rest of the weekend setting his jaw and coming up with a game plan. He scrolled through costs for replacement furniture and new inventory, each price tag making his stomach tighten. Rush deliveries were necessary to fix the shop in time, but he hadn’t anticipated just how costly holiday-season deliveries could be. Renters’ insurance would cover some of the damage, but a considerable amount would still come out of his own pocket.

On the upside, Jungkook wasn’t liable for any of the property damage. Mingyu was, and he even stopped by the shop that following Monday to assess the situation with a frown and a few murmured apologies.

But even as Jungkook faced the upcoming expenses and the reality of a delayed opening, the sense of purpose he’d gained over the weekend held steady. He wasn’t about to back down.

“The good news is, it could’ve been worse,” Mingyu said after his walk-through. He was unexpectedly calm, though Jungkook guessed he probably dealt with burst pipes often as a landlord. “The electrical system is mostly intact, and the ceiling hasn’t collapsed.”

A weak laugh scraped up Jungkook’s throat. It was lunchtime, and he’d been cleaning up debris since six in the morning. He probably looked like death warmed over, but he was too exhausted to care. “Thank God for the small things. What’s the bad news?”

He figured he might as well face it all at once. A single giant blow was better than a thousand small cuts.

“The bad news is, your fingers are going to bleed from how many flowers you’ll need to press before the grand opening.” Mingyu rapped a gentle knuckle against the table where Jungkook had dumped the ruined projects. “So… what’s the damage?”

“Two dozen.” Jungkook deflated, feeling the weight of it sink deeper. It took him at least a week to get each one just right. Recreating two dozen in the next two months was impossible unless he spent every waking hour on the project—but he didn’t have the luxury. Even with his virtual assistants’ help, administrative tasks took up half his workload.

“How about this? I’ll handle—”

The jangle of bells over the front door cut Mingyu off mid-sentence.

Sharp jaw. Intense eyes. Lean muscles and ruthless command wrapped in a custom-tailored charcoal suit.

It could be no one other than Kim Taehyung.

A rush of shock flooded through Jungkook. It was the middle of Taehyung’s first day back at work—what the hell was he doing here?

Taehyung’s gaze found Jungkook’s, warm with concern, before shifting to Mingyu. It was like watching a switch flip. The warmth vanished beneath a layer of ice, and a thick, tension-laden silence settled over the damp floor.

“Hey,” Mingyu said, his tone cordial, but a flicker of challenge glinted in his eyes. “You’re Jungkook’s ex, right?”

Jungkook flinched at Mingyu’s emphasis on the word ex. The last thing he needed was blood on the floor to clean up along with everything else, and that was where they were headed if Mingyu kept provoking Taehyung.