FORCED MARRIAGE WITH BROTHER IN LAW

chapter 42

The tension in the room thickened as the sound of Y/N's shallow breaths filled the air. Her body was burning with fever, her fragile form lying limp in Kittu’s arms. Paras stood at the edge of the room, looking at her with guilt and regret etched all over his face.

But it wasn’t just the concern for Y/N’s well-being that was making the room feel suffocating. Taehyung’s anger had not subsided, and the rest of the BTS members were tense, standing like silent witnesses to the unraveling of everything they had known.

"Paras, you need to leave," Jungkook's voice cut through the silence, firm and unwavering.

Paras looked up, his face conflicted. "I want to help. She needs me—"

"No," Jin interrupted, his voice calm but stern. "You don't get to just come back after everything you've done. Not now. Not when she needs to heal."

Taehyung’s fists clenched, his jaw set tight. His anger wasn’t just for Paras; it was for himself. For the way he had treated Y/N, for the damage he had done, and for the fact that it felt like everyone, except him, cared about her.

"Paras, leave," Taehyung said, his voice low, but there was an edge to it that warned of the destruction that was just beneath the surface. "She doesn't need you right now."

Paras opened his mouth to protest, but the coldness in Taehyung’s voice made him hesitate. He wanted to help, but he knew—deep down—that he couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything.

With a heavy heart, Paras turned and left without a word, walking out of the room with his head bowed.

Once Paras was gone, the room grew quieter, but the tension didn’t ease. Taehyung’s gaze never left Y/N, whose face was still pale and flushed with fever. He could feel the weight of his regret pressing down on him.

The dimly lit study room buzzed with tension. Taehyung stood rigid, arms crossed over his chest, staring at Y/N’s feverish form. His jaw clenched tightly, but the look in his eyes was far from regret. It was anger, frustration, and a sharp sense of possessiveness that he couldn’t shake. His gaze flickered to the other BTS members, all of whom stood with concern etched on their faces, but he refused to show any weakness.

Y/N lay on the couch, her body trembling, her fever burning through her veins, her breath shallow. It was a sight that twisted something deep inside him, but his pride, his overwhelming anger, prevented him from acknowledging it. The image of Y/N’s pale face, flushed with fever, was only a reminder that she wasn’t the person he had imagined her to be. She wasn’t the woman he thought he’d married. She was the replacement, the one who had failed to meet his expectations.

Jungkook stepped forward, his face pale with concern. "Taehyung, she needs to go to the hospital. We can’t just keep her here like this."

The words hit Taehyung like a slap to the face. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to tell them to stop treating her like some delicate flower that needed constant protection. She was his wife, his burden, and his decision. She had to handle it. But a flicker of something—some semblance of care, of responsibility—flickered in the back of his mind. Yet it was immediately drowned by his cold indifference.

“She’s fine,” Taehyung said, his voice clipped, almost mocking. “She’ll survive.”

“But she’s burning up with fever, Taehyung!” Jimin’s voice was desperate now. “This isn’t something that can be ignored. She needs help.”

“Why?” Taehyung shot back, his voice growing colder with each word. “What’s the point? She’s not the woman I thought she would be. She’s not even the woman I want her to be.”

His words rang out harshly in the stillness of the room, and for a moment, the BTS members were frozen in disbelief. The man they had come to respect, the one they had seen fight for everything he believed in, was now unrecognizable. He was cold, distant, and indifferent to the suffering of his own wife.

Y/N, still barely conscious, tried to shift slightly, but her body betrayed her, and she winced. The sharp pain in her chest, the weight of her broken heart, was making it harder to even breathe. But the pain she felt was nothing compared to the emptiness in her soul. Her marriage had been built on expectations, not love. And now, in her most vulnerable state, her husband stood before her, uncaring, uninterested in helping her.

“We need to take her to the hospital,” Jin finally said, stepping forward with resolve in his voice. “We’re not leaving until we get her the care she needs.”

Taehyung glared at him, his eyes narrowing. “You can do whatever you want,” he growled. “But she stays here. I’ll handle her.”

But the BTS members had made up their minds. They would not let Y/N suffer because of Taehyung’s stubbornness.

With a forceful look from Jungkook and Jimin, they moved quickly, gathering Y/N up with surprising care. Taehyung didn’t stop them—he simply stood there, seething with an anger he couldn’t understand. His chest tightened as they carried her toward the door, but not for the reasons they might think. It wasn’t worry, or guilt—it was pride.

“She’s my responsibility,” Taehyung said, his voice cold as he turned his back to them. “She stays here.”

The others ignored him, pushing forward, determined to get her the care she needed, even if Taehyung refused to see reason. They made their way out of the study room, with Taehyung standing still, watching them with bitter eyes.

As they exited the house, Taehyung remained where he was, his heart hardening with each passing second. He didn’t care that she was in pain. He didn’t care that she was suffering. Y/N wasn’t what he wanted, and that was all that mattered. She was a replacement—nothing more.

As they reached the car and prepared to take Y/N to the hospital, Kittu, standing by the door, turned back one last time to glance at Taehyung. There was no sympathy in her eyes, only cold resolve.

“You don’t deserve her,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her mouth with effortless precision. “You don’t even know her. She’s been breaking for months, and you never saw it.”

Taehyung’s eyes flashed with anger, but Kittu didn’t wait for a response. She turned away, following the others as they got into the car, their minds set on getting Y/N help.

As the car sped away, Taehyung stood in the doorway, watching them leave. His heart was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—anger, pride, regret—but none of it mattered. In his mind, Y/N was just a part of his life that he had no intention of holding onto.

And as the sound of the car’s engine faded, Taehyung’s hand tightened into a fist, and he swore to himself that he would never let anyone take what was his.

Y/N, for better or worse, was still his. And no one would change that.