𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 {𝐭.𝐠𝐠𝐮𝐤}

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One . . .|
-are you a fan of horror movies?

     "Get up. Time to get you dressed." A foreign voice to Taehyung rings throughout the room. The aforementioned had a rough night getting comfortable and sleeping well. He ended up crying himself to sleep with how distraught he was. He felt exhausted; robbed of all his energy.

"I said," he heard again. "Get up!" That's when the blankest were ripped off of him and his left hand was tugged harshly.

Taehyung let out a sharp wince, choking on the breath that got caught up in his throat. "S-Stop! That hurts!" He complained.

The man pinched his lips in a taut line, unfazed with Taehyung's reaction. "Mr. Jung informed me to get you up." He replied.

The young and former CEO rubbed his hand. "I got it." He breathed out and pushed to his feet, looking to see what he assumed was a guard. "You can leave now."

"I'm your escort."

"You can wait outside, then."

"Mr. Kim, with no respect at all, you're in no position to give me orders. Get dressed or get punished, your choice." The guard glared, his time flat.

Taehyung gulped. He wanted to hold his ground but he had no idea how these guards and slaves were treated. He knew very well that Jeongguk would kill his men and beat them but by the tone he was given by the guard in front of him, he was unsure if they were punished. He recalled how Hoseok said he was the nicest mafia leader.

The young man pulled his sleep shirt from over his head, still using the discarded shirt to cover his bare chest. "Does Hoseok have anything he prefer I wear?"

"He prefers you wear clothes."

Taehyung ignored the sarcastic reply to him and went to his closet. He opened it, revealing an assortment of attires. His eyes scanned the clothing, a frown playing his lips.

He reached inside and pulled out a long silky red shirt. It reminded him of a dress, if he's being honest but he would much rather cover his slim body. Without a second thought, he slipped it over his head, removing his sleep pants to pull on black slacks.

"Hurry, Mr. Kim, I don't have all the time in the fucking world. I don't care if you dress like a clown or like a slut." The guard growled with irritation radiating all throughout his vowels. "Hurry. You're wasting Mr. Jung's time. This reflects on your behavior."

Taehyung was startled. He didn't like it here. At least at Jeon Undergrounds, he had Jimin who was rather nice and wasn't demanding, who was wanting to get him out of the mafia.

He didn't like he guards here.

Taehyung brushed away the thought, slipping on some socks and shoes over his feet. "Is this fine for your liking?" He asked sarcastically.

His sarcastic comment served him no good, the guard strode in front of him and grabbed on his collar. "Are you giving me a tone, kid? I don't know how they treated you outside the mafia but an arrogant little shit won't get you anywhere here. Try that shit again, I'll make your life hell."

The younger's eyes lit up with fear, staring at the guard who had him gripped in his hands. "I'm- I'm sorry!" He pushed from his lips, his voice seeming small and frail.

"More like it. You're too pretty to get your ass beat, to have your face beat in." Commented the guard with a cold expression. He wasn't hitting on him; no smirk on his ennui face. He was blunt and honest with him, his brows knit together in the middle. 

Taehyung felt uneasy, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was let go, the guard fixing his shirt. He grabbed his hands and cuffed them behind his back, soon adding a breathable bag over his face. "Be quiet while we walk to your next destination." Uttered the guard.