❛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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🥀 ₳₴₥ØĐɆɄ₴'₴ ₮ØɄ₵Ⱨ🥀 "None resist the lure of desire, love." ༺♥༻❀༺♥༻
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑵𝑬𝑿𝑻 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮, 5𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑭𝑬𝑩𝑹𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀
I groan.
My whole body aches like I've been hit by a freight train, which, let's be honest, is probably a more accurate description of last night. Dionysus. The party. The glamour. The people who probably have more skeletons in their closets than the average Halloween store.
It all feels like a dream—except the kind where you wake up, check your bank account, and realize you spent all your money on overpriced cocktails and regrettable decisions.
And then there's Hoseok.
My heart drops straight into my stomach. Of course. The one guy I'd laughed with, danced with, the same guy who dated my cousin—turns out to be a crime lord. The kingpin of the underworld who runs some dark, twisted empire.
Seriously, who looks at that smiling, charming face and thinks, "Yep, that guy's probably into shady dealings?" I'm an idiot. A walking, talking cautionary tale.
I can still feel the gut-punch of realization, like someone shoved a knife into my ribs. The power. The danger. All of it hidden under that ridiculous grin.
I could almost hear the gears turning in my head: What do I do now? Do I confront him? Do I run? Do I ask him for his autograph and pretend I didn't just discover he's probably behind half the missing persons cases in the city?
I had sighed dramatically, because apparently, being a responsible adult wasn't on my to-do list yesterday. I forced a smile, like I always do—fake it 'til you make it, right? My laughter had felt hollow, but I played along, distracting him with some casual, almost-forgotten conversation.
Meanwhile, my brain was screaming: YOU KNOW HE'S A FREAKING CRIME LORD, Y/N. GET OUT. NOW.
And get out I did. The second I saw Rose, I bolted like I was being chased by an army of angry bees. And maybe I was. God only knows how much trouble I'm about to find myself in now. I can only thank the universe that he still has no idea I'm Scar. The same Scar who stole his precious gem from right under his nose.
I kick my feet in the air like a child trying to shake off the bad vibes, but it doesn't help. It only makes my headache worse. Fantastic, I think, as I squeeze my eyes shut and curl up into a little ball, praying for mercy from the universe and maybe, just maybe, a pint of ice cream to make it all better.
I finally muster up the strength to drag myself out of bed, my limbs still heavy and uncooperative, like I'm walking through a vat of molasses. I stumble toward the bathroom, clutching the doorframe like it's my last hope of staying upright. "Okay, Y/N, you got this," I whisper to myself, even though I'm pretty sure my brain has already given up on any rational thinking.
