[ complete ] 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 𝐅𝐅

68. The Morning Everything Changed

Jungkook’s POV —

The soft morning light filtered through the long white curtains, casting golden streaks across the empty side of the bed where Y/n usually slept. I shifted under the covers, reaching instinctively toward her pillow, only to be met with nothing but cool sheets.

The ache hit instantly. That dull, ever-present throb in my chest since she and the kids left.

I groaned, rubbing my face and dragging myself upright. My eyes were barely open when my phone buzzed against the nightstand—vibrating so violently it nearly slid off the edge.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

I blinked, reaching over and grabbing it lazily. Probably Y/n, I thought with a sleepy smile.

I clicked the screen.

16 New Messages
From: My Queen 💛

Finally. A rush of excitement fluttered in my chest.

I opened the chat, expecting blurry selfies, pictures of mangoes, maybe a sleeping Advait drooling on a pillow, or Aarohi hugging a goat. Instead—

I froze.

The first photo made me smile.
Y/n holding a plate of gujiya with Aarohi grinning beside her.
The next—Advait sitting on a tractor with Dad.

My smile grew.

But then—

Buzz. Another photo.

From an unknown number.

And it slammed into me like a punch to the gut.

I sat up straight.

It wasn’t like the others.
The lighting was off.
Grainy. Zoomed in.

A photo taken from behind the bushes.

Y/n.
The kids.
Her mother and father.

All of them standing together in the village park.
Oblivious. Laughing. Living.
And someone had been watching.

Message received:

“Beautiful family you’ve got. It would be a shame if someone... misplaced a child.”

My body stilled.

The smile vanished.
My chest constricted.

No emotion.

Just a cold, sharp switch flipped in me.

I stared at the message, reading it again and again, my jaw tightening, muscles clenching as a storm surged in my blood.

No.

Not them.

Not my wife.
Not my children.

Not on my fucking watch.

Another message came through.

“You should’ve stayed in your lane, Jeon Jungkook. You know how easily things… slip away in the chaos of a village.”

My hands shook—but not from fear.

From rage.

I stood up slowly, barefoot on the cold marble floor, the weight of the situation settling in. My mind began racing. Enemy? Rival mafia? Old vendetta?

I clicked on the number.
No name. No ID. Burner phone. Typical coward move.

I immediately dialed my head of security, Taemin.

He picked up after two rings.

“Sir?”

“Activate all rural surveillance protocols. Trace this number now. It’s a threat. They’re in India. Near my family.”