𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 || 𝐊𝐓𝐇

Chapter-10: Forced by him

Millie

Sitting on the edge of the bed, my mind spun with uncertainty. Should I try to explain to Taehyung that none of this is Jungkook’s fault? But deep down, I knew he wouldn’t listen. He’d twist my words, believing I was simply trying to protect Jungkook.

“Ava, please,” I whispered into the empty room, my voice cracking. “I need you to wake up. I need you to fix this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, especially not Jungkook.”

My plea hung in the air like a prayer unanswered.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Taehyung stormed inside. Before I could react, his hand gripped my wrist, yanking me to my feet. His face was inches from mine, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“Taehyung, you’re drunk—”

“Shut up,” he growled, pinning me against the wall with a force that made me flinch.

His face buried into the curve of my neck, and I froze. His hot breath fanned against my skin, and I could feel his body pressing against mine. “Taehyung,” I stammered, my voice trembling.

“Don’t speak.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet filled with a dangerous edge. His fingers traveled to the zipper of my dress, tugging it down with deliberate slowness.

“I want you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “No.” I pushed against his chest with all my strength. “You’re not in your right mind! Stop this!”

But my protests fell on deaf ears. His lips crashed onto mine, silencing me. I struggled against him, but he was unyielding. His hands explored freely, his actions forceful yet frighteningly gentle. “Stop it, Taehyung!” I screamed, pushing harder against him. “No means no!”

He stumbled back slightly, my shove catching him off guard. His expression hardened, a flicker of anger sparking in his eyes.

“You dare push me?” His voice was a growl now, dangerous and commanding. “I’m your husband. You belong to me.”

I glared at him, my chest heaving. “You don’t own me. You can’t force me!” A twisted smirk curled his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

He lunged again, his lips finding mine in a bruising kiss. My protests were muffled, my tears streaming down my cheeks as I tried to push him away. His grip on my wrists tightened, pinning me to the wall as his body caged me in.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Say you belong to me.”

I refused, my silence defiant even as tears blurred my vision. His grip faltered, and for a brief moment, hesitation crossed his features. Slowly, he released my wrists and stepped back, his eyes conflicted.

He looked at me, his chest heaving, as if realizing the gravity of his actions. Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving me trembling and broken.

I sank to the floor, hugging myself tightly as sobs wracked my body. With shaking hands, I scrambled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. I hastily changed into a robe, my mind racing.

When I emerged, he was sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on me. I didn't meet his gaze. I couldn't.

Without a word, I walked past him and got into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. I turned my back to him, pretending he wasn't there.

"Millie," His voice was barely audible.

I remained silent, my body trembling with rage and fear. His hand brushed against mine, but I jerked away. "Leave me alone."

The room fell silent, except for his labored breathing. I lay there, numb, wondering how I'd escape this toxic nightmare.

Taehyung

I'd lost control, letting my desires consume me. But as I stood outside, something snapped. Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. As I paced the hallway outside our room, regret clawed at me.

What was I doing? What had I become?

For a fleeting moment, the alcohol-fueled haze cleared, and I saw the truth. I’d hurt her—again. But as quickly as the guilt came, I shoved it away.

No. I couldn’t afford to feel regret. She was just a pawn in my game. A means to an end.

I clenched my fists, my resolve hardening. Millie wasn’t someone I could care about. She wasn’t someone I should care about. She was nothing more than a tool for revenge.

I returned to the room, forcing the guilt to the back of my mind. When I finally returned to the room, she emerged from the bathroom, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Millie," My voice was barely audible. But she jerked my hand away. "Leave me alone."

I felt a pang of guilt, but it was short-lived.

Wait, why am I feeling regret? She's just a means to an end. A revenge tool. Nothing more.

My mind rationalized the situation.

I don't need to care about her feelings. I don't need to care about her at all. She's just a pawn in my game.

The resolve solidified.

I'll use her, discard her, and move on. No attachments. No emotions. Just revenge.

With that, my guilt vanished, replaced by calculation.

Millie

As I finished getting ready, the bathroom door swung open, and he emerged, his wet hair dripping onto his broad shoulders. I instinctively covered my neck, hiding the marks he'd left. He strode toward me, his eyes locked on mine, and I felt his warm breath on my skin.

“Good morning, darling,” he said smoothly, as if last night hadn’t happened.

I ignored him, biting back the anger bubbling within me. How could he act so nonchalant? Did he feel no shame? No guilt?

He stood and closed the distance between us, his chest brushing against my back. I stiffened, refusing to turn around.

“Next time you dare to hide them,” he whispered, his fingers brushing the faint marks on my neck, “I’ll leave them everywhere. On every inch of your body. So you can’t hide.”

Rage burned through me. I spun around, meeting his smug gaze with fiery defiance.

“You think you own me?” My voice was sharp. “You think marking me makes me yours?”

He smirked, his silence more infuriating than any response. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the dressing room, leaving me seething. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay composed. I wouldn’t let him control me. I wouldn’t let him break me.

As I stepped out of the house, I inhaled the fresh morning air, desperate for an escape from his oppressive presence. The driver opened the car door for me, but before I could step inside, Taehyung appeared.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice low and possessive.

“I have work,” I replied curtly.

His lips curled into a bitter smile. “Why do you need a driver? I can drive you myself.”

“I’d rather walk.”

His expression darkened, and he grabbed my arm, forcing me toward the car. “Get in.” Reluctantly, I slid into the passenger seat, my heart pounding with anger and frustration.

As he started the engine, he glanced at me, his eyes filled with that same maddening possessiveness. “You’re still mine,” he said.

I turned to him, my voice steady and firm. “I’m not yours, Taehyung. I never was, and I never will be.”

We drove in tense silence until we reached the hospital. The moment the car stopped, I stepped out, slamming the door shut behind me. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. All I could think about was how I’d escape this toxic nightmare.

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