❛You're mine. And If I don't get you, no one can.❜
In which our little psycho protagonist somehow makes the world's 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 most dangerous criminals develop an unhealthy obsession for her.
➻ Alternative Universe
➻ Crime Noir Fiction
➻ Action...
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🥀 ₴Ʉ฿ⱤØ₴ł₳🥀 "Darling...take the mask off."
༺♥༻❀༺♥༻
*Author's P.O.V*
The afternoon today felt damp and subdued, with the sky blanketed in a thick layer of gray clouds. The drizzle fell steadily upon the car's front, blurring the outlines of the world in a soft mist, coating everything with a thin sheen of moisture.
The streets were quiet, save for the soft splash of puddles as pedestrians hurried along, huddled beneath umbrellas or tightly wrapped coats.
The trees stood bare, their skeletal branches dripping with rain, and the air felt heavy, as though the season was holding its breath, caught between the last days of winter and the slow promise of spring.
Kim Seokjin sat in the back of his limousine, the script in his hands abandoned as his gaze lingered out the window. The city's lights blurred past in a wash of gold and red, but his mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts of a woman he had seen only once—Y/N Caterina Fiore.
Her name tasted like honey on his lips, sweet and intoxicating, lingering long after he had whispered it to himself in the quiet of his thoughts. Y/N Caterina Fiore.
The mere thought of her brought a strange sense of warmth to his chest, a warmth that he hadn't known in years. But it was a dangerous warmth, one that threatened to consume him if he wasn't careful.
Seokjin could still picture her with perfect clarity, even though he hadn't spoken a word to her. The way she stood, the way her smile had lit up the room, as if she were untouched by the shadows that hovered over everyone else.
She was like a perfect, untouchable gem, and that only made him want to know her more, to possess the secret she held within her.
She had appeared like an apparition at that fundraiser, standing with the children, a vision of grace that seemed to belong to another world. The way she moved, so effortlessly, so untouched—she was different from anyone he had ever encountered.
A quiet elegance that seemed impervious to the filth that coated the world Seokjin knew so well. She was untouchable, like a painting locked away in a museum, admired from afar but never truly known.
He had watched her from across the road, mesmerized by her calm demeanor, her laughter that rang out like an unexpected breeze, so soft and yet so disarming.
It was an innocence that contrasted sharply with everything Seokjin had built—a world of manipulation, control, and darkness. And that was what intrigued him the most. How could someone like her exist in such a world without being swallowed whole?
His fingers drummed against the leather seat, his grip tightening on the script that he no longer cared for. He hadn't spoken to her, never had the chance. She had been surrounded by a crowd, far beyond his reach, but it didn't matter.
