Bound by Shadows .jc

CHAPTER 23

The stolen breath 

Woozi's POV 

The club buzzed with life, its dim lights and heavy bass pulsing like a living thing. To everyone else, it was a luxurious escape, a place to lose yourself. To me, it was suffocating. I sat slouched in the corner of the bar, nursing my fourth glass of whiskey, the burn doing little to quiet the storm in my head.

Jeonghan. His name had been a constant in my thoughts since the day he disappeared, an echo that refused to fade. Tonight wasn't about indulgence—it was about drowning out the worry, the helplessness.

I tilted my head back, letting the alcohol burn its way down. The edge it took off was fleeting, but it was enough. Or it would've been, if a voice hadn't cut through the haze.

"Drinking your troubles away, hmm?"

I looked up, blinking against the dim light, and my gaze landed on a man standing far too close. He was dressed to kill—literally, I thought, as my eyes traveled over his sharp black suit. Everything about him radiated control and confidence, from his perfectly styled hair to the feline glint in his eyes.

"Does it matter to you?" I snapped, the alcohol lending an edge to my voice.He smirked, unbuttoning his blazer and slipping it off in one fluid motion, revealing rolled-up sleeves that framed strong forearms. He was deliberate about it, and I hated how my eyes followed.

"Call it curiosity," he said smoothly, leaning closer. "You looked... out of place. Vulnerable, even. It's hard to ignore."

I scoffed, gripping my glass tighter. "You don't even know me."

"Maybe not," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine, "but I'd like to."

Before I could come up with a sharp retort, he reached out and plucked the glass from my hand. The sound of it meeting the bar was louder than it should've been.

"You've had enough," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I stared at him, stunned, as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me off the barstool. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm, commanding.

"Hey—what are you doing?" I tried to steady myself, but the alcohol had made me unsteady.

"Relax," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Trust me."

Trust him? I wanted to scoff, but before I could protest, he was leading me into a dimly lit hallway, tucked away from the noise and crowd. The music faded into a dull hum, leaving an odd stillness that made my pulse hammer in my ears.

Then my back hit the wall.

"Wha—" I started, but his hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek in a way that made my breath hitch.

His gaze lingered on my lips. "You're a contradiction, Woozi. All fire and ice. And I'm dying to see what happens when you melt."

"I've wanted to do this since I saw you on that stage," he said, his voice low and thick with intent.And then his lips were on mine.

It wasn't gentle—it was rough, demanding, and unapologetically possessive.

The kiss was fierce, demanding, a raw claiming that left me gasping. His tongue teased, coaxing me to respond, his grip firm as the world spun. I resisted at first, hands weakly pressing against his chest, but his dominance overwhelmed me, intoxicating and relentless.

When he pulled back, I was left breathless, lips tingling. His thumb brushed my swollen lower lip, a smirk playing on his own.

"W-Who are you?" I managed, my voice trembling.