<HORNS>|| BTS x Jungkook ~Mafia AU~

Tension

Jungkook stole a quick glance from Mr Jeon's stern expression down to the Rolex on his own wrist and grimaced.

This confession was taking longer than usual but he knew better than to question his father, or complain for that matter.

The boy turned to the loud cawing sound of seagulls and serene swishing sea waves before looking up to the sapphire blue sky, one wisp of cloud decorating the stunning atmosphere. He gazed to the far end of the seaside and noticed happy families, children and couples laughing whilst enjoying the sunshine and swallowed a pang of hate.

Busan was so beautiful, this was his home and where he grew up. Busan was where he left the kind, gentle Kookie; for Jungkook was all grown up now.

As he turned back to the spectacle playing out in front of him, he knew he wasn't allowed to enjoy the scenery as much as he should get pleasure from the mass butchering which would happen soon.

"I won't ask you again," Woobin's voice echoed through the expansive yacht lounge as the subject was standing by the yacht railings, grounded with fear.

"Who sent you?" Woobin had his trusted leather gloves on but was sitting down on a plush armchair, one leg handsomely crossed over whilst his men were doing all the dirty work.

The man didn't reply.

Maybe because the poison laced in his upper palate was causing him excruciating pain, or maybe because the agony of standing on a broken leg was causing him nausea.

Jungkook was growing impatient as he started shaking his foot before stealing another glance at Mr Jeon who was sitting on the throne. The grand, white couch with fox fur pillows and an array of fine wines and cigars sitting on the mahogany table in front of him.

Mr Jeon's eyebrows were slightly furrowed as he rolled a cigar around his index finger and thumb, contemplating what was happening, who was feebly trying to destroy his empire from the inside out.

Although he was sitting beside his father, Jungkook knew not to breathe too loudly or to bend his posture. He looked around, there must be about fifty men spread across this yacht, one of hundreds they owned.

But he couldn't care less about what was going on, for the raven haired boy's mind was unwittingly drifting elsewhere.

"Don't you like that expression, Jungkook?"

Gritting his teeth, he turned to Namjoon who was standing behind him.

"Yes boss?" The blonde immediately bowed his ear down.

Just then, Mr Jeon raised a hand up which made everyone straighten up and instantly stand, including Jungkook who crossed his hands at the navel and kept his eyes on the wooden floorboards of the open yacht.

"This is taking too long. Kill him and follow me."

His voice had neither emotion nor soul in it, monotonous and deathly, it was aimed to no one in particular, yet both Woobin and Jungkook met each other's eyes, sustaining their mental conversation.

Woobin kicked the standing man in his broken knee which earned a blood curdling yelp before spitting on his body and straightening his blazer as he sniffed and walked over to his father.

"Take him home," Woobin ordered Namjoon.

Mr Jeon led the way as he went down the carpeted stairs to leave the yacht before his men followed him out, leaving Woobin and Jungkook alone with their guards.

"What's going on?" Jungkook questioned.

Woobin turned back to the man now being badly punched, "There's definitely a mole. Someone wants one of us dead."