Hahm Yunhee is nothing special, just an average girl trying to make ends meet. She adores her boyfriend, Kim Taehyung; he's sweet, charismatic and a little bit mysterious, but twelve months into their relationship and things are going down the pan.
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'Open the door! Open this damn door, right now!'
Jimin tossed his pen onto the desk, fingering his hair out of insanity as he slumped in his chair.
Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting tranquil red hues across the vast grounds of his estate. Inside, the walls reverberated with the consistent yells of the maddeningly loud woman he held upstairs.
It had been two hours since he'd relocated Yunhee from the club to his private residence in Pyeongchang-dong, and he was already tempted to hand the lass back to his archenemy and tell him to keep the blasted money.
It was either that or put a bullet in her head, anything to stop the griping coming from the bedroom he'd locked her in. Whether it was nerves or her balls of steel, Jimin wasn't sure. He just wished the woman who was severely testing his patience would put a sock in it before he - quite literally - did.
'Do you bastards hear me out there? Let me out or I swear I'll jump through this window and kill myself!'
'Be my guest,' Jimin snarled as he drew his firearm from his holster and stormed into the foyer. 'Joon!'
When he received no reply, Jimin grumbled an expletive and took the steps of the grand staircase two at a time. He'd tasked the man with the role of guarding Yunhee, with strict instructions not to touch her.
All he had to do was ensure she didn't escape until they contacted Tae with instructions, and also ensure she was kept silent so he could work quietly in his study. Namjoon was failing at the latter, which was unlucky for him because if there was one thing Jimin detested, it was people disturbing his household.
The moment his feet reached the plush carpet at the top of the stairs, a moan of pleasure drifted down the landing from one of the guest bedrooms.
'For Christ's sake,' Jimin hissed. Namjoon was balls deep in pussy after three firm warnings about bringing whores back to his house. The last thing he wanted to witness was his sweaty, naked friend driving into some scrawny bird, so he'd have to deal with his hostage himself.
Riled up and ready for a war, Jimin unlocked the bedroom Yunhee was secured in and marched over the threshold.
What he saw made him stop in his tracks.
She was over by the window - his 18th Century stained glass window - a piece of cloth torn from the curtain wrapped around a wrist and aimed at the pane.
'Miss Hahm,' Jimin warned, fingers tightening on his silver gun.
Yunhee whirled around at the sound of his voice, her lips parting as she held her fist in the air. His temple twitched, as did a vein in her neck, and they stared soundlessly at one another across the room.
Until all hell broke loose.
Yunhee threw the cloth at him and dashed towards the king-sized bed in the centre of the room. She leapt onto the mattress and bounced across it like a gazelle as Jimin holstered his gun and raced after her.
