THE CONSPIRACY-BANGTAN MAFIA FF ➡️

SEVENTY-FIVE

Jackson was entirely wasted. His low alcohol tolerance had finally caught up to him, transforming his previous excited chatter into slurred nonsense. He was eventually escorted out of the high-end club near the Champs-Élysées by a group of friendly, pitying strangers he'd been laughing with. Eva's small clutch purse, the weighty gold chain strap now dangerously looped around his neck like a medallion, swung heavily as they half-carried him out the door. He didn't notice it at all.

The other guests managed to get him into a taxi and guide him back to the hotel. He stumbled out and somehow managed to navigate the elevator. He was so far gone that he never considered checking the connecting room. In his blurred memory, Eva had left the club earlier and returned to the hotel on her own. He threw himself onto his bed—fully clothed—and drifted into a deep, alcohol-induced slumber.

The next morning, Jackson woke with a punishing headache—a cruel, throbbing echo of the night before. He groaned, rubbing his face, trying to recall the last conscious moments of the previous evening. The neon lights, the loud music, the terrible burning drink Eva had complained about before, a faint clink drew his attention.

He looked down and froze. Lying beside his pillow, the heavy gold chain strap draped over his chest, was Eva's black clutch purse. A jolt of cold dread, more potent than his headache, shot through him. If her purse is here, where the hell is Eva?

He scrambled out of bed, adrenaline replacing the alcohol. He rushed to the door and knocked several times—a soft tap, then a hard rap. "Eva? Sweetheart, are you in there?" Silence.

Tearing back to his own room, he fumbled with the purse. He quickly unzipped it and spilled the contents onto the bed: her phone, her wallet, and most crucially, the electronic access card to her room. Everything was inside.

His mind screamed. He grabbed the card and raced back to her door, swiping it violently. The lock clicked open, and he burst inside. The bed was untouched, and the air conditioning hummed across the room, mocking the sudden chill. She never came back. The confirmation slammed into him.

The sight of the undisturbed space sent him into a hysterical, internal spiral. His mind went completely blank, then raced a million miles a minute. He knew, instinctively, that he could not tell Jae Chul about this. He backed out of the room, locking the door on autopilot. He ran down to the lobby, trying to appear casual, his eyes wild.

"Bonjour, / Good morning," he managed to choke out to the receptionist. "Je cherche ma collaboratrice, Madame Shin. Est-ce que le personnel ou les gérants de nuit l'ont vue entrer dans l'hôtel depuis tard hier soir ? / I'm looking for my associate, Ms. Shin. Have any of the staff or night managers seen her enter the hotel since late last night?" 

The receptionist checked the log and shook her head apologetically. "Je suis désolée, Monsieur. Pas depuis qu'elle est partie avec vous hier soir. / I'm sorry, sir. Not since she left with you yesterday evening."

Jackson swallowed hard, his face paling. His panic reached a new high, and he didn't know what to do. He rushed back upstairs, fumbling with Eva's phone. He had to find a solution, a sign, anything at all. He began scrolling through her contacts, trying to remember who she might have left with.

Meanwhile, Eva woke up to a throbbing headache, a cruel, persistent drumbeat behind her eyes. Her body felt heavy, and the lingering residue of panic made her stomach clench. As she slowly stirred and her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar, luxurious surroundings, she jolted. This was not her hotel room. The vast space, the muted, expensive decor, and the immense king-sized bed were utterly foreign.

A primal fear seized her, and she sprang upright, her heart hammering against her ribs. Her frantic gaze swept the room until it locked onto Yoongi. He was seated on a massive, curved sofa across the suite, his posture steady and formidable, his eyes closed as if in deep concentration or sleep.