Destiny's love

Part-55

Rohan's POV

The door slammed open, and for a split second my brain didn't register what was happening.
Then I saw them.

Nayoung's eyes — blazing, murderous — locked on me first. Then they darted to Hayoung, slumped in my arms, her top half-off, neck littered with the marks I'd just left.

I felt the shift in the air before I heard it — the crack of her hand across my face. My head snapped to the side, the sting sharp and instant.

Before I could react, Taehyung was on me, fists connecting with my jaw, my stomach, my ribs. The shock of each blow made me stumble backward. My brain screamed for me to fight back, to defend myself, but all I could see was Nayoung pulling Hayoung away from me, wrapping her jacket around her, holding her as if I were some kind of monster.

Which... maybe to them, I was.

But they had no proof.
No one could prove what really happened here unless Hayoung remembered.
And with the pill I'd given her, the odds of that were slim.

I spat blood onto the floor, forcing myself to smirk even as pain bloomed across my face. "You're too late," I muttered, just loud enough for Taehyung to hear. His fist came down again, harder this time, and my vision blurred.

They didn't stay. They didn't waste a second on me once they had her.
And that was fine.
Because the seed I'd planted in Hayoung's mind these past weeks? It was still there. And seeds grow, even in the dark.

Nayoung's POV

Hayoung's body was limp against mine as I half-dragged, half-carried her out of that apartment. Every instinct in me screamed to turn around, to go back and hit Rohan again until his smug face caved in, but I couldn't. She was my priority.

Her skin was cold, her breathing slow and shallow, and I wanted to scream because I didn't know exactly what he'd done to her yet. My jacket was wrapped tightly around her, hiding the marks he'd left. My mind refused to linger on them — I couldn't. Not yet.

Taehyung ran ahead to get the car, his jaw clenched tight, his knuckles still smeared with Rohan's blood.

When we reached the parking lot, he threw the back door open and I slid in with her, cradling her head in my lap. "Go to Jungkook's," I said immediately.

"Nayoung—"

"I said go!" My voice cracked but I didn't care. Jungkook deserved to know. She needed to be somewhere safe, and right now, safety meant him.

As Taehyung sped through the streets, I brushed her hair back from her face. "It's okay, Hayoung," I whispered, my throat burning. "You're safe now. I've got you. I'm not letting anyone hurt you again."

But deep down, I knew this was far from over.

Taehyung's POV

I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone as much as I wanted to kill Rohan in that moment. His smug little smirk even as I hit him... that was the look of a man who thought he'd already won.

And that scared me more than anything.

I glanced in the rearview mirror — Nayoung was holding Hayoung like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Hayoung's head rested in her lap, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, completely unaware of the storm around her.

"Jungkook's going to lose it," I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. Not in anger at her — no, he'd tear the world apart to find the man who did this. But that's the problem. Rohan's still walking free.

Every red light felt like a personal attack, and I ignored most of them. The sooner we got her to Jungkook, the better. He needed to see her, to know she was alive, even if... even if she wasn't okay.

As the familiar street came into view, I pressed harder on the gas.
Tonight wasn't the end of this.
Not by a long shot.

Jungkook's apartment

Taehyung pulled up in front of Jungkook's apartment, his hands tightening on the steering wheel before he killed the engine. Without a word, he stepped out, moving quickly to the back seat. Nayoung shifted Hayoung carefully into his arms, and he lifted her as if she weighed nothing — one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, holding her close to his chest.

Her head lolled against him, hair brushing his jaw. She was still out cold.

Nayoung rushed ahead, taking the stairs two at a time before reaching the door. Her fingers were trembling as she jabbed the doorbell, the sound echoing far too loudly in the silent hallway.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Jungkook stood there, hair messy, eyes tired — and then his gaze landed on Nayoung. Confusion flickered for a second, replaced almost instantly by alarm when he saw Taehyung behind her, carrying Hayoung.

"What—" His voice cut off, his chest visibly tightening. "What happened to her?"

"She's okay," Nayoung said quickly, though her voice wavered. "We just— we need to get her inside."

Jungkook stepped aside without another word, his eyes never leaving Hayoung's face. Taehyung brushed past him, moving straight toward the bedroom he knew so well. He laid her down gently on the bed, pulling the blanket over her.

Jungkook followed in seconds, kneeling at the bedside. His hand brushed her cheek, his thumb stroking lightly as if he was afraid she might vanish if he touched her too hard. "Hayoung... baby, can you hear me?"

No response.

Taehyung stood back, his jaw tight. He didn't need to say anything — the look he and Nayoung shared said enough. This wasn't over.

Jungkook's eyes snapped up to them. "Someone tell me what happened." His voice was low, controlled, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it, like a dam ready to break.

Nayoung exhaled slowly. "We'll explain. But first... let her rest."

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