Who? (Jungkook FF)

Chapter 116

     I still recall the video of Dami losing her sanity, her screams echoing in my mind. And Taehyung—poor Taehyung. His suffering face, his broken voice—it's all I can think about.

What can I do?

The questions haunt me daily. I don't even know if everything is just a misunderstanding. I can't talk to Jungkook about Taehyung—he already hates him with every fiber of his being.

I understand why. The assassination attempt wasn't something anyone could forgive easily. But still, Taehyung is my brother.

Every day, I wrestle with this unbearable weight. Should I go to him? I know exactly where he is, but it's not like I can do anything. Jungkook's men are watching me again; I can feel their presence lingering whenever I leave the house.

It's been almost a week since I last saw Taehyung. That fleeting, gut-wrenching moment when I was allowed to visit him. I haven't been able to do anything since, and I hate myself for it.

I think about him constantly—his suffering look, his desperate plea.

The dizziness sets in again, and I steady myself, gripping the edge of the table.

I need to do something.

I close my eyes, the turmoil churning inside me. I can't talk to Jungkook. He won't listen. And I can't save Taehyung—not on my own.

So what's the point of knowing where Taehyung is if I can't do anything about it? Why am I being so secretive?

The answer is simple—I'm scared. Scared of what Jungkook might do. Scared of making things worse. But my fear can't outweigh my care for Taehyung.

I sigh deeply, making up my mind. If Jungkook's men report this to him, so be it. Maybe it will serve as a wake-up call. A reminder that he can't erase Taehyung from my care.

I grab the car keys with trembling hands and head outside.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I pause for a moment, gripping the steering wheel. "I love you, Jungkook," I whisper to the empty car. "But I'm not doing this behind your back. You know it. I just need to see Taehyung's condition. That's all."

The GPS shows the location I saved months ago My fingers hover over the screen before pressing "Start."

As the car hums to life and I pull out of the driveway, the knot in my stomach tightens. I know they're following me—Jungkook's men. I've seen the black SUV in my rearview mirror too many times to count.

But why should I care?

Let them follow. Let them report. I'm not hiding this.

I need to see Taehyung. To know he is fine. Or to know he hasn't been completely broken.

I press harder on the gas, my resolve strengthening with each passing mile.

As I drive, the tension in my chest grows heavier. The road stretches before me, but it feels like I'm crossing a chasm I might never return from. The knowledge that Jungkook's men are shadowing my every move doesn't deter me—it strengthens my resolve.

Let them watch. Let them tell him. I've already made peace with the consequences.

Memories of my last encounter with Taehyung resurface like waves crashing against my mind. His gaunt face, the faint tremor in his voice as he spoke—those moments haunt me.

I glance at the GPS, the blinking dot marking my destination getting closer. I grip the wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

As I approach the facility, a stark gray building surrounded by tall, electrified fences, I slow the car and park at a safe distance. The place looks impenetrable, guarded by men who don't look like they have an ounce of compassion in their bodies.