𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊

60

The mansion comes into view, its once-grand facade now scarred—bullet holes riddling the walls, windows shattered, the entrance marred by violence.

A wave of nauseating anger builds inside me, coiling tight in my chest. 

Beyond the danger to my wife, beyond the bodies littering the driveway, beyond the thick, acrid stench of gunpowder and blood—It's this.

Our home.

Her sanctuary.

Defiled.

I barely register the corpses, the men swarming my property, my own soldiers flooding in. 

My focus is singular. Y/n.

I stop the car and bolt, my gun already in my grip.

Behind me, Jin's tires screech against the pavement. Then Taehyung. Then four more SUVs.

Armed men spill out, a swarm of reinforcements descending onto my home. 

Gunfire erupts, but I only hear my pounding heart.

"Jungkook!" Jimin's voice snaps from behind me. Urgent. 

But I don't stop. 

I can't stop. 

Not now. Not when she needs me.

I sprint for the garage, breath sharp, lungs burning, I reach the broken garage door. 

My stomach free-falls. I raise my gun and barrel forward.

I rush past my vehicles, my nerves blazing at the deafening silence.

Swallowing hard, I keep my gun ready as I step into the glow of the basement.

My heart pounds against my ribs, every pulse a countdown to whatever waits for me. 

And then I see them. 

Two lifeless bodies. 

Both American. 

My eyes sweep over the scene.

A bloodstained knife.

Dark, wet pools of crimson seeping into the concrete.

The squelch of my shoes pressing into the blood makes my stomach tighten.

Where is she?

My eyes scan the basement, frantic, searching for any trace of her, of what happened here.

A flicker of silver amidst the crimson splatters catches my eye.

My breath catches.

I crouch, my fingers closing around the delicate chain.

Her necklace.

My grip tightens around the tiny charm, a surge of panic roaring through me. 

If they've taken her. They couldn't have gone far. There's no way.