𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 ||𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅🔞||

C H A P T E R : 10

The room was dimly lit, the glow from the city outside barely reaching the corners of Jungkook's expansive office. Papers scattered across his desk, a testament to the chaos he thrived in. The faint scent of leather and smoke lingered in the air as he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the edge of a tumbler filled with dark whiskey.

There was blood on his knuckles, not fresh but dried-a stark reminder of the "conversation" he'd had earlier with one of his enemies. The man had begged, screamed, promised things Jungkook couldn't care less about. In the end, his pleas fell on deaf ears. Jungkook didn't have the patience for weakness, not in this life.

Yet, as he swirled the whiskey in his glass, his thoughts betrayed him.

"Me wanna go to oppa."

The memory hit him out of nowhere, soft and uninvited. Her voice-childish, innocent, and far too pure for someone like him-lingered in his mind. He let out a dry chuckle, the sound hollow. Little dove, he thought bitterly. That's what she was. Fragile. Delicate. A creature that didn't belong in his world of shadows and violence.

But she wasn't his.

She belonged to Taehyung, his best friend and the only man Jungkook trusted completely. Taehyung's devotion to her was unwavering, his life centered around protecting her from the monsters that lurked in the dark. Monsters like Jungkook.

He took a long sip of his drink, the burn doing little to numb the ache beneath his ribs. For years, he'd convinced himself he didn't care. That her laughter, her wide, trusting eyes, and her ridiculous attachment to Taehyung meant nothing to him. But deep down, he knew better.

Jungkook stood, the leather of his chair creaking softly as he moved. His desk drawer opened with a quiet click, revealing a loaded Glock and a folded photograph. He ignored the gun, his fingers brushing against the photo instead.

It was old, the edges worn from years of being handled. The image showed Taehyung sitting on a park bench, Y/N perched beside him with a grin that could rival the sun. Jungkook wasn't in the frame-he never was. He'd always been in the shadows, watching from a distance.

"Stupid kid," he muttered under his breath, sliding the photograph back into the drawer.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Come in," he called, his voice cold and commanding.

A man stepped inside, his expression tense. "Boss, we've got a problem. The shipment-"

"Handled," Jungkook interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I already sent someone to deal with it."

The man nodded quickly, retreating without another word.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He had an empire to run, enemies to eliminate, and deals to close. There was no room in his life for distractions.

Yet, as the night wore on, he couldn't shake the image of her face, couldn't silence the echo of her laughter.

"Little dove," he murmured, the words barely audible.

She was too good for this world, too good for Taehyung, and far too good for someone like him.

But that didn't stop him from wanting to protect her. From wanting to shield her from the darkness he called home.

Even if it meant keeping his distance....

The warehouse loomed in the shadows of the city outskirts, its rusted exterior and broken windows bearing witness to countless illicit deals and betrayals. Jeon Jungkook stood at the entrance, his black leather gloves tightening over his knuckles. The air was dense with the metallic scent of impending violence, and the moonlight barely seeped through the cracks in the decrepit walls.