Anger never builds; it only tears down. In the heat of a single moment, it can feel like strength, an armor to hide behind. But when the fire fades, all that's left are the ashes of what once mattered. Anger doesn't solve anything-it devours patienc...
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It’s okay to fall apart; just don’t stay on the ground forever.
Chapter 22: Visit
Taehyung still hadn’t gotten any answers about yesterday’s unsettling event. Jungkook hadn’t said a word about it, and though the silence gnawed at him, Taehyung decided not to press. Yet the unease clung to him like a shadow. Something about the way Jungkook and Jin had acted… the way their faces hardened when that woman appeared… it left a knot in his chest. If no one would explain it to him, then he would have to search for the truth on his own.
“Taehyung, are you done? Shall we go out now?”
Jungkook’s voice suddenly pulled him back to the present as the door to his room creaked open. Jungkook leaned casually against the frame, his presence filling the room the way it always did.
Taehyung turned quickly, hiding the card he had been staring at a moment ago. “Uh—I’m sorry, Jungkook. I can’t go with you today. I have something important to do first.” His voice was calm, but inside his chest, his heart was hammering.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed slightly. “What is it? Tell me so I can help you.”
Panic stirred in Taehyung’s stomach. If Jungkook knew where he was going, he would surely stop him. “No, it’s fine,” Taehyung said quickly, forcing a reassuring smile. “I don’t want to bother you. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick. You can leave first.”
Jungkook studied him for a beat longer, as though trying to read the unspoken words behind his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?” There was a faint edge of concern in his voice, baffled by Taehyung’s sudden insistence on being alone.
“Yes,” Taehyung replied firmly. “I don’t want to be a burden. I can do this on my own.”
Silence stretched between them until Jungkook finally sighed, stepping closer to ruffle Taehyung’s hair. “Okay then. Just call me if you need me.” His tone softened, protective as ever, before he finally turned and walked out of the room.
Taehyung kept smiling until Jungkook’s figure disappeared down the hall. Then, as the door clicked shut behind him, the smile slipped away. His face hardened with determination. Moving quickly, he grabbed his bag from the chair, sliding the sleek business card inside as though it were contraband. With one last glance toward the hallway, he slipped out of the villa, every step careful and measured.
Once outside, Taehyung checked his surroundings, scanning the street to make sure Jungkook wasn’t anywhere near. His chest tightened with guilt for sneaking behind Jungkook’s back, but his curiosity—and his desperation—burned brighter. He raised his hand, hailed a cab, and climbed inside.
“Please take me here,” he said, handing the driver the address scrawled neatly on the back of the business card.
The driver nodded, and the cab pulled away. Taehyung leaned against the window, his fingers tightening over his bag strap. His thoughts churned. He hated to admit it, but he was desperate. Desperate enough to chase even a dangerous truth. Whether this woman’s words were genuine or fabricated, he couldn’t ignore the possibility. If there was even the slightest chance she held the key to his mother’s death… then he needed to know.
The cab slowed to a stop, and the driver’s voice jolted him from his spiraling thoughts. “We’ve arrived.”
Taehyung blinked, startled. He hadn’t realized how quickly the time had passed. He paid the fare, stepping out onto the pavement.
Before him loomed a towering glass building, its polished surface gleaming under the sunlight. Its size and grandeur were intimidating, radiating wealth and power from every angle. Taehyung tilted his head back, his throat tightening at the sight. No wonder the woman had carried herself with that air of superiority—this was her world.
Clutching his bag tightly, he drew in a steadying breath, trying to summon courage from the pit of his stomach. Each step toward the entrance echoed like a drumbeat of determination. The glass doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Taehyung crossed the threshold, bracing himself for whatever truth—or danger—awaited inside.
“Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung, and I’d like to meet Jung Gaeul,” Taehyung said softly as he stepped up to the receptionist’s desk. His tone carried polite restraint, though he could feel his pulse quickening in his throat.
The receptionist barely looked at him, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against the keyboard as her eyes stayed glued to the glowing screen in front of her. “Do you have a meeting scheduled with her?” she asked flatly, her voice carrying the detached efficiency of someone used to gatekeeping for powerful people.
Taehyung hesitated, his hand already moving to his bag. “Oh—she didn’t mention an appointment, but… she gave me this.” He quickly pulled out the business card Gaeul had handed him the day before and placed it gently on the counter as if it were proof of his purpose.
The receptionist glanced at the card, her expression shifting ever so slightly. She seemed to consider it legitimate enough. “Give me a minute,” she murmured before picking up the receiver and dialing swiftly.
Taehyung stood there, his fingers fidgeting against the strap of his bag as he tried to appear calm, though his stomach churned with nerves. The receptionist spoke in hushed tones, listening intently to the voice on the other end, and after what felt like an eternity, she finally hung up.
“You may go up to the tenth floor,” she informed him, her voice now tinged with a certain professional courtesy. “There’s only one office there—you won’t miss it.”
Relief and dread swirled together in Taehyung’s chest. He bowed slightly. “Thank you,” he said with a faint smile before turning toward the elevators.
The mirrored walls of the elevator reflected his tense posture as he pressed the button marked 10. He exhaled deeply, watching the glowing numbers ascend. The mechanical hum filled the silence, and with every floor that passed, Taehyung’s anticipation only grew heavier.
When the doors slid open with a soft ding, he stepped out into a quiet, almost eerie hallway. Just as the receptionist had said, the entire floor was dominated by a single office, its frosted glass doors framed with sleek steel.
He hadn’t even crossed the threshold when a woman seated at a desk outside the office looked up from her files. “Yes, how can I help you?” she asked, her tone polite but assessing, her sharp eyes scanning him as though weighing his worth.
“Uh—I’m here to meet Jung Gaeul,” Taehyung replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
The woman’s lips curved slightly, as if she had been expecting this. “Kim Taehyung, is that right?”
Taehyung blinked, surprised she knew his name so quickly. “Yes, that’s me.”
Without another word, the woman rose gracefully from her seat and crossed to the imposing double doors. She knocked three times, crisp and formal, before calling out, “Ma’am, Kim Taehyung is here. Should I let him in?”
A smooth, commanding voice floated from inside the office. “Yes, let him in.”
The woman opened the door, stepping aside with a practiced smile. “You may go in.”
Taehyung gave a small bow of thanks before moving past her. His heart was pounding now, his steps hesitant as he entered the grand office.
And then—he froze.
His breath caught in his throat as his gaze landed on a figure already seated inside. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his features. Jungkook.
There he was, sitting casually in one of the chairs across from Gaeul’s desk, his posture calm yet unreadable. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and it was enough to send a jolt of panic through Taehyung’s chest.
But before Taehyung could utter a word, Jungkook’s gaze slid away, as if deliberately avoiding him, as though Taehyung’s sudden appearance meant nothing at all.
Taehyung’s fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, his body stiff, his mind racing. What was Jungkook doing here? Why… with her?
