THE ORANGE GIRL

chapter one

Min Yoongi never appealed to the colour orange.

The burning embers of sunset making beautiful love to the curve of the horizon. The fruitiness of a clementine peel as the sweet juice found home in the lines of his palms. Kondlike cosmos quivering in a chilling breeze poking out of bland pots that never do their vibrant petals justice. The wings of a monarch butterfly drifting through a suburban street of thick smog and screaming car horns. Autumn leaves blazing along sidewalks littered with their companions as steel capped boots crunch their dulling flames. All shades and forms of orange never captured his interest, for in his eyes, the colour orange meant a jail sentence, fingernails filing down on the cement walls of a cell, vision distorted by steel bars and barbwire fences and men in blue with guns trained on the temple of his beautiful, blonde head.

But the colour orange, covering wrists to neck to ankles, was how he discovered you.

Tuesday, 20th October 2015

10:07PM | MYG Headquarters

"We simply cannot do that."

Yoongi had his mouth resting upon his clasped hands, elbows supported by the rich mahogany wood of his desk as his eyes that were closed with concentration peeled open to look up at Seokjin. The Consigliere, but most of all, closest ally was now standing with his fingers curled tightly into fists by his sides, his concluding, low voice humming around the office. Yoongi quirked an eyebrow at him.

"And why is that?" He murmured, the words muffled against the edge of his palm yet audible enough for Seokjin to sigh in exasperation.

"Don't play dumb, Yoongi," The man crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. "They will be there to collect her from the gates. Do you honestly want to start a war against none other than-"

"No, they won't be there."

Seokjin snapped his mouth shut at the cutting words of his Boss, staring at him with slightly widened eyes at the unexpectedly firm, definitive tone. Yoongi slapped his palms against the top of his desk, leaning back into the plush, dark green leather of his chair with a grin that mocked I know something that you don't.

"Think, Jin," Yoongi brought his arms up to rest behind his head, crossing one tailored pants leg over the other. "She has been stuck in that hellhole for three years, and they would have spent that time draining her dry of all the information that she has stored in that pretty little head of hers. She is nothing but damaged goods now, and those guys will kill her on the spot as soon as she steps foot out of that cell.

"So we need to get there first and snatch her up. Take her somewhere secluded, wring every little detail from her and then boom," Seokjin flinched at the way Yoongi harshly smacked his palms together, the wild edge to his smile igniting flames in his eyes. "We kill her ourselves. She will have absolutely no reason to not spew up every last detail about those fuckers to us, so then at least we will be benefiting from her death."

Seokjin pinched at the bridge of his nose with low groan. The Boss was right, he was never wrong to begin with, but as always there was one tiny flaw in his seemingly perfect plan – the spot that none other than his Consigliere would notice. It required a solid sense of logic to pinpoint, which was hard to come by these days; especially in the Mafia.

"What makes you think she would be so willing to provide us with information about them?"

"Because," Yoongi shrugged, standing up to meet his colleague with a measured gaze. It was then that Seokjin realized that for once, the blonde had already taken care of what could have been the downfall of his plan, already sealed the hole that had the potential to sink his ship. He had been waiting three years for this, after all.

"Who do you think put her in there in the first place?"