MY WIFE

CHAPTER: 33

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The moment Kim Taehyung stepped into the club, the air shifted—thick with tension, laced with fear. The once-deafening bass of the music seemed to fade into nothing, swallowed by the suffocating silence that followed his arrival. Dancers froze mid-motion, their seductive allure replaced by rigid fear. Patrons turned their heads, their whispers urgent yet hushed, as if speaking too loudly might seal their fate. Even the bouncers—men who prided themselves on their strength—stood motionless, gripping the edges of their tables, their knuckles white.

The King of the Mafia's had arrived.

And when Kim Taehyung appears, it meant only one thing—death.

Yoongi, standing on Taehyung’s left, took a step forward, his voice sharp and commanding as it cut through the silence. "Where’s your boss?"

As if summoned by the very devil himself, a man in a red silk shirt emerged from the back of the club. His movements, initially confident, but it faltered the moment his gaze landed on Taehyung. Beads of sweat formed at his temple, his throat tightening as if an invisible hand had wrapped around it. He hadn't expected the great Kim Taehyung to grace his establishment, and he knew—no, he was certain—this visit wasn't for pleasure.

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting under the dim club lights. "There you are park jin young" he stated, his voice calm but dark.

Before the man could respond, Taehyung signaled to jhope Within seconds, jhope and Namjoon grabbed Jin Young by his arms and dragged him forward, forcing him onto his knees. The man's entire body trembled, his pride shattered in an instant. Around them, no one dared to move, no one dared to interfere—not when the mere presence of the Mafia King was enough to set the entire place ablaze with terror.

“Did I... d-do something wrong, Mr. Kim?” Jin Young stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung crouched slightly, leveling his gaze with the trembling man. His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes remained cold, void of mercy. "Not here," he murmured. "Let's talk somewhere else."

He turned on his heel, stepping toward the exit, his long coat billowing slightly behind him. But before leaving, he threw one last command over his shoulder.

"Burn it down."

The moment the words left his lips, his men sprang into action and flames soon consume the club, reducing it to nothing but ash—a wildfire sparked by the wrath of Kim Taehyung.

And Park Jin Young?

He was about to see hell.
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The man was tied to a chair, his body trembling, his clothes drenched as cold water was mercilessly thrown on him. He gasped, shivering violently as JHope stood over him, the empty bucket clattering to the ground. The dimly lit room reeked of blood, sweat, and impending doom.

Across from him, Kim Taehyung lounged in his chair, legs spread in a lazy confidence, a gun resting effortlessly in his grip—pointed directly at the man’s forehead. His dark eyes bore into him, devoid of emotion, his expression eerily calm.

"Why do things that make you tremble in fear ,when death finally knocks?" Taehyung murmured, tilting his head slightly as he dragged the cold barrel of the gun along the man’s clammy skin.

The man swallowed hard, eyes darting around the room, searching for any means of escape. "W-Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?" he stammered.

Taehyung blinked slowly, then let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair, yanking his head back with a sharp tug that made him yelp in pain.