𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 🌹(18+)

𝟑𝟐:- 𝗕𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀

Nari's POV
(New mansion)

I

sat on the edge of Jungkook's massive bed, the spot still warm from where he'd been just hours ago. My fingers grazed the sheets, as if holding onto some invisible thread that might keep him close a little longer. It hadn't hit me until the door clicked shut behind him that he was really gone-for weeks, maybe even months. Jungkook had been careful to avoid specifics, feeding my curiosity but keeping me safely in the dark, as usual.

"What? You're going? Where?" I'd asked, voice laced with the disbelief and a bit of panic that was creeping up my spine.

He'd just grinned that maddeningly calm grin, brushing a thumb along my cheek like I was some fragile thing he was leaving in a glass case. "Just business, little flower. You stay here and behave."

"Behave?" I'd glared, swatting his arm. "What, are you my dad now?"

He laughed, that deep, shameless laugh that made me want to punch him again just for how easily he could ignore my frustration. "Go ahead," he teased, "try to break my arm. Or better, wait 'til I get back. Then I'll teach you how to punch hard enough to take out a few teeth."

I hated how my lips curved into a grin even as I wanted to stay mad. There was something about his cocky, possessive tone that made my stomach flip in the most aggravating way. "I don't need you to teach me anything, Jungkook. I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"Sure you are." He'd leaned down, his mouth hovering just inches from mine. "But you're mine. Don't forget that while I'm gone."

And with that, he'd left.

Just like that.

No explanations, no real answers-just a lingering kiss and that smirk of his, disappearing out the door like he had every intention of driving me absolutely insane in his absence.

I glanced at my phone, half-expecting some sort of cryptic text from him, but it was blank. Figures. His style was more "keep her guessing" than "keep her informed." I sighed, trying to squash the unease that kept rising, something gnawing at me in the pit of my stomach. I knew he kept secrets, but he'd never left me alone like this, not for this long.

With a grunt, I pushed off the bed and headed for the training room. If he thought I was just going to sit around missing him, he clearly underestimated my resolve. Still, I couldn't ignore the faint, irritating sense of emptiness creeping in as I moved through his space.

Everything here was so... him.

His presence was in the dark walls, the sleek leather, the lingering scent of his cologne that clung to the pillows.

I slipped on some gloves and moved to the punching bag, ready to burn off this restless energy. His comment about me being too weak to break his arm still echoed in my head, and I took it out on the bag with one sharp punch after another.

"Guess I'll have to teach myself," I muttered, landing another hard blow.

But as I focused on each punch, his words kept drifting through my mind. Each one of his possessive taunts, the way he'd pull me close and leave me guessing... it was infuriating. Yet, there was something thrilling about it too. Like some part of me craved that maddening unpredictability.

And just as I thought I'd found some semblance of peace, my phone buzzed, snapping me back to reality. I reached for it, half-hoping it was him.

But it wasn't.

"Missing someone?"

The message had no name attached, no number I recognized. The words left an eerie chill running down my spine. And that's when I saw him, a figure from the shadows stepping into the dim light of the training room, hands tucked casually into his pockets, lips curled in a smirk that made me instantly suspicious.