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bluelavendre · 5 months ago

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Please, I'll Change, I PROMISE!

Mafia Jungkook x Reader

Y/n’s Pov

Dating someone whose life is filled with shadows, whose actions are often unpredictable, is terrifying. One minute, you’re laughing together, lost in your own bubble, and the next, you’re haunted by the possibility that this chaotic love might cost you your life. And yet, with every scar, every tear, you still find yourself clinging to the love they offer, no matter how broken or twisted it might be.

Jeon Jungkook was a mystery when I first met him. I was on a business trip in Tokyo, minding my own business at a club. I didn’t know who he was, nor did I care. His charm was magnetic—dark eyes, that dangerous aura, a smile that made my heart skip even when I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for it. He seemed just like any other guy at the club... until the night of our anniversary.

We were at a high-end restaurant in Seoul, trying to enjoy our quiet dinner. I hadn’t noticed the tension in the air, the quiet whispers and the cold stares that followed Jungkook everywhere he went. Not until it was too late.

Gunshots rang out, shattering the silence. My heart raced, my mind couldn’t process what was happening. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, and everything went black.

When I woke up, the sterile smell of a hospital room hit me before I even opened my eyes. Jungkook was there, sitting beside me, his face clouded with guilt and something darker.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved with me,” he muttered under his breath, as though the words physically hurt him. He wasn’t even looking at me, his hands clenching at his sides. I didn’t respond; the words I wanted to say got stuck in my throat.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he continued, his voice strained. “I never wanted you to get hurt. I swear, I tried... but it’s not that easy. This life, this world... it’s all I know.”

I saw it in his eyes then, the truth—the weight of the choices he had made. Jungkook wasn’t just a man who got caught up in bad situations. He was the situation. The danger, the chaos, the violence—it was all tied to him, and somehow, I had been pulled into it.

That night, he swore to me he would change, that he would get out of this life. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that the man I loved could be different. But promises are fragile things, and the promises he made never lasted long.

Three years later…

Nothing had changed. We still lived in this cycle, like two people trapped in the same nightmare, unable to wake up.

Jungkook came home late, sometimes drunk, sometimes high, sometimes not at all. There were nights I’d wait for him, my heart pounding in my chest, praying that tonight would be different, that maybe this time he’d come back unscathed. But more often than not, he didn’t.

“You’re still waiting up for me?” Jungkook asked one night, his voice raspy and filled with a hint of amusement as he stumbled into the apartment, eyes bloodshot and full of something else I couldn’t quite place. "You're too good for me, Y/n. You deserve better."

“Then why don’t you give me better?” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the hurt creeping into my words. "You promised you would stop."

He looked at me, his gaze sharp, almost cold, yet there was something beneath the surface. Guilt. Love. Regret? "I can’t walk away from this," he said, his words harsh, but his eyes softening. "You wouldn’t understand, Y/n. I’ve been in this for too long. It’s who I am, it’s what I do."

I knew it was no use. He couldn’t escape his past—he couldn’t escape who he was. And maybe I didn’t want him to. Because in the end, no matter how many times he hurt me, I couldn’t stop loving him. Maybe that was the real curse.

Jungkook walked over, kneeling in front of me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find something he’d lost. His hand reached up to gently touch my face, his thumb brushing over the bruise he didn’t mean to leave.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I don’t want to hurt you. I never did.”

The words felt hollow, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than any apology ever could.

This was our reality. The love that could kill us both, and yet we stayed. Because no matter how chaotic, how painful, the connection between us was undeniable.

The blaring alarm ripped me from the warmth of my bed. With a groggy sigh, I stretched, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before glancing to the side. There he was—Jeon Jungkook.

Even in sleep, he looked intense. His long, dark hair was messily sprawled across the pillow, his tattooed arm resting over his toned chest, rising and falling with each breath. His physique was unfairly perfect—broad shoulders, defined abs, and ink that traced his skin like a masterpiece. If only he weren’t such a walking contradiction.

With a shake of my head, I slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. The water was warm, washing away my lingering exhaustion as I mentally prepared for another long day of lectures and hospital rounds. Being a med student was no joke—balancing school, life, and a relationship with someone like Jungkook? That was a whole different challenge.

By the time I was done getting ready, I stepped out of the bedroom only to be met with the smell of bacon and eggs. Jungkook stood in the kitchen, shirtless, tattoos on full display as he moved around effortlessly, flipping bacon in the pan.

“Babe, have breakfast first,” he said, turning to me with a soft smirk. His voice was still thick with sleep, but his dark eyes held that familiar intensity.

I took the plate he handed me, smiling as I looked down at the perfectly cooked meal. “This looks really good,” I said, meeting his gaze.

He simply grinned, the corner of his lip lifting slightly before he sat down across from me. We ate together in comfortable silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional clinking of silverware. Moments like these made it easy to forget who he really was outside the walls of our apartment.

Once we finished, I gathered the plates and washed them, my mind already racing through the long day ahead. When I turned around, Jungkook was by the door, pulling on his black leather jacket and grabbing his helmet. His inked fingers ran through his messy hair before he turned to me, his expression unreadable.

“Where are you going this early, Kook?” I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

He looked at me, a glint of amusement in his eyes, and held out my helmet. “I’m giving you a ride to school.”

I blinked. “You? Giving me a ride? Since when do you—”

“Since today,” he interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “Now, let’s go before you’re late.”

I rolled my eyes but took the helmet anyway, following him outside. His Harley Davidson was parked near the curb, sleek and polished, the engine humming beneath his fingertips as he revved it up.

Climbing on behind him, I wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the warmth of his skin through his jacket. As we sped through the streets, the wind whipping against my face, I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to pretend that this was normal—that we were normal.

When we finally arrived at my university, Jungkook parked by the entrance and turned to face me. His hand reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear before he leaned in, pressing a quick peck on my lips.

“See you later, babe,” he murmured, his voice husky.

I felt my face heat up as I glanced around, but no one seemed to care. Biting my lip, I nodded and slipped off the bike. “Be careful, okay?”

He smirked again, adjusting his gloves. “Always.”

With that, he rode off, disappearing into the morning traffic. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding before heading inside.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, two familiar faces rushed toward me.

“Oooh, boyfie,” Sungkyung teased, nudging my side.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”

Jamie, on the other hand, wasn’t as amused. She crossed her arms, giving me that knowing look. “Y/n… you know what I’m going to say.”

I sighed. “Jamie, don’t.”

“You know he’s toxic,” she pressed, lowering her voice as we walked toward class. “You have your whole future ahead of you, and he’s—”

“I know,” I cut her off, not wanting to hear it again. “But it’s not that simple.”

Jamie pursed her lips but didn’t push further. No matter how many times she tried to convince me to leave Jungkook, she never forced it—she just let me make my own choices. Even if she knew they were mistakes.

Because, deep down, I knew she was right.

But knowing something and doing something about it were two very different things.

Detaching yourself from someone who was the only person you had left was harder than people made it seem. It wasn’t just about love—it was about survival. After my grandma died, there was no one else. No family to run to, no home that felt safe. Except for him.

Jungkook.

A text message popped up on my phone, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I’ll fetch ya after school, babe. Luv u ❤️”

I stared at the message for a moment, my chest tightening. I wanted to believe him. I really did.

—

Classes ended at 7 PM.

Jamie and Sungkyung stood by the entrance with me, exchanging hesitant glances as I reassured them. “He promised, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Jamie let out a sigh. “Just... call me if anything happens.”

I nodded, waving them off as they disappeared down the hall. Then, I waited.

7:45 PM.

8:00 PM.

8:30 PM.

The streetlights flickered, casting long shadows on the pavement. My breath curled in the cold air as disappointment settled deep in my bones.

"He must’ve forgotten." The words felt bitter on my tongue, but I forced a small, humorless smile to myself before turning away.

I went home alone.

—

The apartment was dim when I walked in, the faint scent of alcohol lingering in the air. And there he was—Jungkook, sprawled on the floor, his shirt half unbuttoned, reeking of whiskey and cigarettes. His long hair was disheveled, his knuckles bruised.

I stood there for a moment, just staring. Not with anger. Not with shock. Just... exhaustion.

Without a word, I walked past him, my heart heavy but my mind numb. I did my night routine in silence, changed into my oversized hoodie, and sat at my desk to finish my homework. I didn’t even know why I was trying so hard anymore.

Jungkook didn’t even stir. Didn’t even realize I was home.

Maybe he never really did.

When I finally laid down on the bed, my body felt like lead. My mind raced, drowning in thoughts I didn’t want to acknowledge. Why am I still here? Why do I keep waiting for him? Why do I keep hoping—

The bed shifted.

Warmth.

A strong arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. The smell of alcohol mixed with his cologne hit me before his lips brushed against the back of my neck. His voice, deep and slurred, broke through the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his grip tightening around me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my throat burning. I didn’t move. Didn’t push him away.

“I tried,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “I tried to come, baby... but I—I messed up again.” His voice cracked. “I keep messing up, don’t I?”

I felt my chest tighten painfully.

“You should leave me,” he continued, barely above a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve you. I ruin everything I touch.” His fingers curled against my hoodie, holding onto me like I was the only thing keeping him together. “But I don’t know how to let you go. You’re all I have, Y/n.”

A silent tear slipped down my cheek.

Because he was all I had too.

And that was the saddest part of it all.

The next day at school, I sat at the usual table with Jamie and Sungkyung, absentmindedly stirring my iced coffee with my straw. Last night’s events lingered in my head like a dull ache I couldn’t shake off.

Jungkook’s slurred words. His grip on my waist. The way I had silently cried myself to sleep while he held me like I was his lifeline.

“Y/n, hellooo?” Sungkyung waved a hand in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Huh? What?” I blinked, realizing I had completely zoned out.

Sungkyung rolled her eyes playfully. “You so weren’t listening.”

Jamie sighed, nudging my arm. “We were saying—we should have a girl’s night!”

I gave a small, halfhearted smile. “That’s a nice idea…”

“Yes! Finally, you’re agreeing to something fun without us dragging you,” Sungkyung cheered.

Jamie, however, wasn’t as easily convinced. She studied me carefully, her brows furrowing. “Are you okay, Y/n?”

I hesitated. Lying felt useless—they both knew me too well.

“I just... didn’t get much sleep,” I admitted, taking a sip of my coffee. It wasn’t entirely false.

Sungkyung scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, I know why.”

Jamie shot her a warning glance, but it was too late.

Sungkyung leaned forward dramatically. “Let me guess—Jungkook promised to pick you up, but he never showed, so you waited, went home alone, and found him drunk?”

I flinched at how spot-on she was. My fingers gripped my cup tighter.

Jamie groaned. “Sungkyung.”

“What?! I’m just saying the truth.” She turned to me, her voice softening. “Y/n… I hate seeing you like this. You deserve so much better.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. “That’s why we need this girls’ night. No stress. No boy drama. Just us, unwinding.”

Sungkyung grinned, nudging me. “We’ll get you out of that sad, mopey mood if it’s the last thing we do.”

I let out a small chuckle despite myself. “You guys are too much.”

Jamie smirked. “And you love us for it.”

“Damn right she does,” Sungkyung said smugly. “So, it’s settled. We’re dressing up, going out, and reminding Y/n that life is fun without a tattooed, emotionally unavailable boyfriend.”

I rolled my eyes but felt a warmth spread in my chest.

Maybe, for just one night, I could pretend things were okay.

“Fine. I’m in.”

Sungkyung and Jamie cheered, high-fiving each other like they just won a battle.

I smiled—really smiled—for the first time that day.

Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

Friday night.

I zipped up my overnight bag, stuffing a few last-minute things inside before slinging it over my shoulder. The excitement for our girls' night should’ve been the only thing on my mind, but the heavy presence behind me was impossible to ignore.

Jungkook had just stepped out of the shower, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead as he towel-dried it. His tattoos were still glistening from the steam, and his silver lip ring caught the light as he spoke.

“How long are you gonna be there?” he asked, voice low.

I didn’t look at him. “I’ll be back on Sunday.”

Silence. Then, the bed creaked as he sat down, reaching for me. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him. His warmth was intoxicating, his scent a mix of soap and the faintest trace of whiskey from the night before.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured against my shoulder.

I sighed, placing my hands over his for a brief moment. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook tightened his grip slightly. “I’ll fetch you on Sunday. I promise.”

I only hummed in response. Promises with Jungkook were... unpredictable.

—

The ride to Sungkyung’s place was quiet. Jungkook’s hand rested on my thigh as he drove, occasionally tapping his fingers against my skin like he wanted to say something but never did.

When we finally arrived, Sungkyung and Jamie were already waiting outside, arms crossed like two judgmental older sisters.

Jungkook barely had time to park before Sungkyung let out a low whistle. “Wow, what a rare sight. Jeon Jungkook actually following through on something?”

Jamie shot her a look before turning to me. “You good?”

I nodded, stepping off the bike as Jungkook handed me my bag. His fingers brushed mine for just a second too long.

Sungkyung leaned in, lowering her voice. “You better not mess this up for her, Jungkook.”

Jungkook only smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I said I’d fetch her, didn’t I?”

Jamie sighed, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go, before he starts making empty promises again.”

Jungkook tensed at that, but I only gave him a small nod before following my friends inside.

As we walked up to the door, Sungkyung whispered, “Okay, that was tense. We need shots. Immediately.”

I let out a breath and smiled. Maybe this weekend was exactly what I needed.

The weekend was full of laughter, inside jokes, and carefree moments with Jamie and Sungkyung. For the first time in a long while, I felt… happy. Really happy.

We danced in crowded clubs, ate overpriced desserts at cute cafés, and spent late nights in our hotel room talking about everything and nothing.

It felt normal.

It felt like a life I could’ve had.

As we lounged on the hotel bed, scrolling through pictures we took that weekend, Jamie suddenly spoke up.

“See?” she said, nudging me. “You’re happy without him.”

I stiffened. The warmth I felt earlier dulled instantly.

“Jamie, not this topic, please.” I sighed.

Jamie’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “Y/n… I’m just concerned for you. We are.”

Sungkyung nodded, her voice gentler than usual. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

I bit my lip, looking down at my hands. “I know.”

“Then why?” Sungkyung pressed. “Why are you still holding on?”

I exhaled shakily. “I’m just… waiting for the right moment.”

Jamie and Sungkyung exchanged glances, their worry evident.

A beat of silence passed before they pulled me into a tight hug.

“We’ll always be here for you,” they whispered.

I shut my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat.

If only they knew that letting go felt just as terrifying as staying.

—

Sunday evening.

I stood outside the café near our meeting spot, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder, waiting.

7:00 PM.

7:30 PM.

8:15 PM.

Cold air brushed against my skin as I scrolled through my phone, rereading Jungkook’s last text from Friday.

“I’ll fetch you on Sunday. I PROMISE.”

I scoffed bitterly. Of course.

Jamie’s name popped up on my screen.

Jamie: Want me to take you home?

I stared at the message for a long time before replying.

Me: No, I got it. Thanks.

Dragging my bag behind me, I hailed a cab and made my way home.

—

The apartment reeked of smoke, alcohol, and something even heavier. The sound of laughter and music pulsed through the walls.

I stepped inside, my stomach dropping at the sight before me.

Jungkook was sprawled across the couch, his long hair messy, his tattooed arm draped over a half-naked girl sitting on his lap. His lips were slightly parted, pupils blown wide as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. A mirror with white powder sat on the coffee table beside empty bottles of whiskey.

His gang members lounged around, girls draped over them like accessories, lost in their own intoxication.

It was chaotic. It was filthy.

It was everything I had been trying to ignore.

My throat tightened, but I refused to make a sound.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered lazily towards me. For a split second, his expression faltered—just for a second—before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ah, shit…” he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand. “I forgot, didn’t I?”

A girl whispered something in his ear, giggling as she ran her fingers down his chest. He didn’t push her away.

I clenched my fists.

I wasn’t even surprised.

I turned on my heel and walked straight to our bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I wouldn’t cry. Not this time.

I was just… tired.

So, so tired.

Author’s POV

Morning came, and Jungkook woke up with a pounding headache. His mouth was dry, his body heavy from the lingering effects of last night’s mess.

With a groggy groan, he rubbed his face, only to realize—something was off.

The bed beside him was cold.

His heart clenched as he turned his head.

No Y/n.

Panic surged through his veins. He shoved the blankets off and stumbled toward their wardrobe, yanking the doors open.

Her stuff was still there.

He let out a shaky breath, gripping his hair in frustration as flashes of last night hit him like a cruel movie reel. The powder. The drinks. The girls.

And Y/n.

Standing there. Watching him. Saying nothing, but saying everything.

The bathroom door clicked open, and he turned immediately.

Y/n stepped out, hair damp, her oversized shirt hanging loosely over her frame. But what caught Jungkook’s attention wasn’t her silence—it was her eyes.

Red. Swollen.

She had cried.

And he was the reason why.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, stepping toward her.

She didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him.

She just walked to the closet, pulling out a fresh pair of scrubs, acting as if he wasn’t there.

The coldness cut deeper than any words.

“Y/n…” He swallowed hard, desperate now. “Please. Just talk to me.”

Nothing.

She grabbed her bag, throwing in a few things, her movements stiff—controlled, like she was forcing herself to hold it together.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, his frustration bubbling over. “Damn it, can you just say something?!”

Y/n froze.

Slowly, she turned to him, eyes finally locking onto his. And when she spoke, her voice was eerily calm.

“You want me to talk, Jungkook?” she said, tilting her head. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Jungkook felt his chest tighten.

“Let’s talk about how you forgot about me again,” she continued, stepping closer. “Let’s talk about how I had to take a cab home alone after waiting for you like an idiot.”

His jaw clenched. “Y/n, I didn’t mean to—”

“You never mean to, Jungkook!” she snapped, voice finally breaking. “But you always do! And I keep forgiving you like a fool!”

Jungkook reached for her, but she stepped back.

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand!” She let out a bitter laugh, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I love you, Jungkook. But loving you is killing me.”

Silence.

A flicker of pain crossed his face. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to break something—not at her, never at her—but at himself. At the mess he had become.

“I’m trying,” he muttered, voice strained.

Y/n scoffed. “No, you’re not. You just say that every time you mess up so I won’t leave.”

Jungkook’s throat tightened. He couldn’t deny it.

“I keep waiting,” she whispered, voice trembling now. “Waiting for you to change. Waiting for you to put me first. But I’m always second to the drugs. To the alcohol. To this life you promised you’d leave behind.”

Jungkook inhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “Y/n, I—”

“Save it,” she cut him off.

She was done listening.

Jungkook stood there, fists clenched at his sides. He looked at her—really looked at her.

And for the first time… he saw it.

She wasn’t just mad.

She was tired.

Defeated.

The girl who used to look at him like he was her whole world… now looked at him like he was breaking it.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat, voice barely above a whisper.

“…Are you leaving?”

Y/n opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

And that hesitation—that split second of uncertainty—made his chest ache.

Because maybe she wasn’t ready to leave.

But she wasn’t sure if she could stay either.

Author’s POV

Silence hung heavy between them, thick with unsaid words and broken promises.

Then, Jungkook moved.

Before Y/n could step away, his arms wrapped around her—tight, desperate, pleading. His face buried into her shoulder as his grip trembled.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t go.”

Y/n’s breath hitched.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the way her heart clenched. She tried to push him away, hands pressing against his chest, but he only held on tighter.

“Jungkook…” she choked out.

“Just… just let me hold you,” he begged, his voice thick with emotion. “Just for a second.”

Her resolve wavered.

He smelled like a mix of alcohol and cigarettes, but beneath it—beneath all the things she hated—was the scent of the man she once fell so deeply in love with.

She felt his body shaking. His breaths uneven. And then—

A tear fell onto her skin.

Jungkook was crying.

Her chest tightened as he slowly sank to the floor, pulling her down with him.

They sat there, tangled in each other, knees touching, foreheads pressed together as silent tears slipped down their faces.

“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispered, voice raw. “I don’t know how to be better, but I swear to God, I— I love you.”

Y/n sucked in a shaky breath, blinking away her own tears.

“I know,” she murmured. “But love isn’t enough anymore, Jungkook.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as his fingers clung to the fabric of her shirt like she would disappear if he let go.

“I can’t lose you,” he croaked.

Y/n’s bottom lip quivered. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?”

Jungkook had no answer.

So he just held her.

Held her like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

And for a moment, just a moment, Y/n let him.

Because no matter how much pain he caused—

Letting go still felt impossible.

Y/n’s sobs broke the silence, her body shaking as she finally let the pain consume her.

“I can’t do this anymore, Kook,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook stiffened. His heart clenched so painfully it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please don’t say that,” he sniffled, his arms tightening around her like she would slip away if he loosened his grip. “Please, baby, don’t.”

But Y/n shook her head, her tears soaking the fabric of his shirt.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered, voice trembling. “I love you so much that it hurts, Jungkook. And the worst part?” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her lips quivering. “I don’t think you’ll ever stop hurting me.”

Jungkook’s chest ached. His hands found her face, thumbs brushing against her damp cheeks.

“I’ll change,” he swore, his voice desperate. “I promise—just give me one more chance. Just one more, baby, please.”

Y/n let out a bitter laugh through her tears.

“You always do,” she murmured. “You always promise.”

Her breath hitched as she clenched her fists.

“But I end up hurting every time.”

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, his hands falling away.

His throat tightened, eyes burning as her words sank in like a blade to his chest.

He wanted to argue. To tell her she was wrong. That this time would be different.

But how could he?

When she was right?

Jungkook reached for her again, fingers ghosting over her wrist, but she pulled away.

And that simple movement—so small, yet so final—broke something deep inside him.

“Y/n…” his voice cracked.

But she was already standing up.

Already walking away.

And for the first time—

Jungkook felt what it was like to truly lose her.

Jungkook’s grip loosened.

For the first time, he truly felt it—the weight of his mistakes.

Y/n stood up, her legs weak beneath her, wiping at her swollen eyes. She didn’t say another word, just walked to the bed and lay down, her back turned to him.

Jungkook hesitated before following, his heart hammering in his chest.

He knelt beside the bed, his vision blurred with tears as he looked at her. The woman he loved more than anything—lying there, silent, distant.

His chest ached.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I’ll change. I swear.”

Y/n didn’t react. She just kept staring blankly at the wall, tears silently slipping from the corner of her eyes.

“I’m so tired,” she murmured.

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for her hand, but she didn’t hold him back.

The room fell into suffocating silence.

Hours passed. Evening fell.

Jungkook had eventually drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped around her leg, holding onto her like a lost child. His breaths were uneven, as if even in sleep, he was afraid.

Y/n, however, stayed awake.

Her fingers lightly combed through his long, dark hair one last time, watching how peaceful he looked—how human he looked when he wasn’t drowning in alcohol, drugs, and violence.

Carefully, she shifted, easing his head onto a pillow. Jungkook stirred but didn’t wake.

She wiped her face and stood.

Then, with quiet, deliberate movements, she packed her things.

Her hands trembled as she folded the clothes he had once helped her pick out. As she placed the small gifts he had given her into her bag. As she looked around the room—their room—one last time.

Finally, she turned back to the bed.

Jungkook’s brows were furrowed, as if he could sense something was wrong even in sleep. His fingers twitched, reaching for someone who was no longer there.

Y/n felt her throat tighten.

She stepped closer, crouching beside him.

She hesitated—just for a second—before pressing the softest kiss to his temple.

“I love you, Kook,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she lingered, memorizing the way he looked.

Then, with a shaky breath, she turned away.

And left.

Jungkook’s POV

His hands trembled as he gripped his hair, his breaths ragged and uneven. His head pounded, but nothing—nothing—hurt more than the emptiness in his chest.

"Hyung… I messed up," he choked out, voice raw with desperation.

Kim Namjoon sat beside him on the couch, his expensive cologne mixing with the thick scent of whiskey and regret that clung to the air. He exhaled slowly, swirling the dark liquor in his glass.

Jungkook's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"It was because of that fucking woman," he spat, venom lacing his words. His jaw tightened, rage flickering behind his glassy eyes. “The bitch that was beside me that night!”

Kim Seokjin raised a brow from across the room, adjusting the sleeve of his luxurious suit. “And whose fault was that?” he asked, though his tone was indifferent, almost amused.

Jungkook’s nails dug into his palms. “If she hadn’t fucking been there, Y/n wouldn’t have left—”

“Oh, please,” Min Yoongi scoffed from the corner, his voice lazy as he tapped a cigarette against the edge of an ashtray. “You really think she left because of that girl? You’ve been screwing up for years, Kook. She was just looking for an excuse.”

Jungkook’s head snapped up, anger flashing in his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t fucking care why she left,” he growled. “I want her back.”

A dark chuckle filled the room.

Jung Hoseok leaned back against the bar, pouring himself another drink. “So what, you’re gonna beg? Cry at her doorstep like some lovesick idiot?” He smirked. “Come on, man. You’re Jeon Jungkook.”

Park Jimin leaned forward, setting his drink down with a clink. “What exactly do you want to do, Kook?” he asked, his voice deceptively light.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched. His heart pounded in his chest.

“I want her back,” he repeated, but this time, there was something darker in his tone.

Taehyung, who had been silent until now, finally turned from the window. His sharp eyes gleamed under the dim chandelier lights.

“And what if she doesn’t want to come back?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

Silence filled the room.

Jungkook’s lips parted, but nothing came out.

The room was filled with men who didn’t believe in no. Men who built their lives by taking what they wanted—by force, if necessary.

Namjoon leaned forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

"Then make her."

The air in the room thickened, the words settling deep into Jungkook’s mind.

His heart pounded. His grip tightened.

A slow smirk ghosted across Jimin’s lips as he reached for his phone. “Say the word, Kook,” he murmured, “and we’ll bring her back to you.”

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his mind clouded with desperation and obsession.

He had already lost her once.

He wasn’t about to let it happen again.

Basement of the Jeon Estate – Private Island

"Please! I didn’t do anything!" The woman’s sobs echoed through the cold, dark basement, her voice hoarse from screaming. She was on her knees, wrists bound together, blood smeared on the side of her face.

Jungkook towered over her, his face devoid of emotion. His grip on the gun was steady, his breathing calm. He had done this a hundred times before.

Yet this time, his rage burned hotter than ever.

"You were the one who caused this," he muttered, voice low and menacing. His eyes darkened as he took a step closer.

"You slut!" he spat before pulling the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed through the basement. The woman’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. Blood pooled beneath her, staining the concrete.

Jungkook exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he turned away from the corpse. His hand didn’t tremble. His heart didn’t race.

He felt nothing.

A slow, deliberate clap filled the room.

“Well done, son,” a deep voice spoke from behind him.

Jungkook didn’t even flinch.

Jeon Junhyuk, his father, stepped forward, pride gleaming in his sharp eyes. His suit was pristine, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back perfectly. He rested a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you.” His lips curled into a smirk.

Jungkook didn’t reply. He just nodded once, slipping the gun back into his holster as they exited the dimly lit basement.

The Jeon Estate – Dining Hall

The scent of roasted meat, cigar smoke, and expensive whiskey filled the grand dining hall. Laughter erupted from the long mahogany table, surrounded by men in tailored suits—Korea’s most powerful businessmen, criminals who masked their dirty dealings behind legitimate empires.

Women in silk dresses sat on their laps, giggling, whispering sweet nothings to the men who could end lives with a single phone call.

As Jungkook and his father entered, conversations hushed momentarily before resuming.

“Ah, Jeon!” Kim Sik, Taehyung’s father, raised his glass in greeting. “Join us! Your son is becoming quite the man.”

Junhyuk chuckled, pulling out his chair at the head of the table. “That he is,” he agreed, sipping his whiskey.

A woman with dark red lipstick slinked toward Junhyuk, her hands ghosting over his shoulders. “Mr. Jeon,” she purred.

Jungkook barely paid her any attention. He sat beside his father, silent, as he stared blankly at the table.

“Son,” Junhyuk’s voice cut through the noise. “Why not have another woman? There are plenty left for you.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to his father’s, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand.

The other men nodded in agreement.

“Yes, Jungkook,” Kim Sik added. “Women in Ireland, Australia… anywhere you want.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his gaze dark and unreadable.

“I am a man who loves a woman, Father,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of finality.

The table quieted slightly, eyes turning toward him in curiosity.

Jungkook exhaled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

“If I could have a family…” His voice softened for a moment. “It would only be with her.”

And for the first time in a long time, Jeon Jungkook felt something.

Regret.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, the glow of the chandelier casting sharp shadows across his face. His fingers tapped against the rim of his glass, mind lost in thoughts of her.

He had always been selfish. He had always taken what he wanted.

And right now, he wanted her back.

“So,” a deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

Jung Kyuseok, Hoseok’s father, set his glass down with a soft clink, eyeing Jungkook curiously. “What’s your plan?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe we could help.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, a ghost of a smirk forming.

“I’ll give her time,” he murmured, voice low. “I’ll make myself worthy of her.”

Some of the men scoffed. Others chuckled.

“Worthy?” Seokjin’s father raised an amused brow. “That’s a new one. Since when does a Jeon earn something instead of taking it?”

Jungkook’s fingers stilled against the glass.

“I will take her,” he said darkly, his voice laced with something far more dangerous. He looked up, his gaze cold, predatory.

“As soon as I’m ready.”

The meaning behind his words was clear.

The table fell silent for a moment before Junhyuk chuckled, swirling his whiskey lazily.

“That’s my boy.”

4 Months After the Breakup

Y/n’s POV

I curled up on the small couch, a warm cup of tea in my hands, as the soft hum of the city outside filled the quiet space of my apartment.

My apartment.

The thought still felt foreign. This place, once just an old memory of my grandmother, had now become my safe haven. It smelled of fresh linen and vanilla candles—nothing like the suffocating scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke that used to cling to my clothes.

I glanced around, taking in the cozy mess of my books stacked on the coffee table, the soft knitted blanket draped over the armrest. It was far from luxury, far from the extravagant penthouse I once shared with him—but it was mine.

For months, I thought I needed him.

For months, I convinced myself that without Jeon Jungkook, I would crumble. That my world would shatter beyond repair.

But here I was. Breathing. Living. Surviving.

And then it hit me—I can really live without him.

I wasn’t broken. I was just attached.

I exhaled, a small, almost bitter smile forming on my lips. Maybe this was always meant to happen. Maybe we were never made for each other, just two souls colliding at the wrong time, mistaking chaos for love.

And maybe, just maybe, letting go was the bravest thing I ever did.

The rhythmic sound of fists slamming against the heavy bag echoed through the private gym. Jungkook's muscles tensed with each strike, sweat dripping down his sculpted frame, his breath steady but heavy. He had been here for months—isolated, disciplined, clean.

No smoking. No drinking. No drugs. No women.

Just training, rebuilding, and regaining control.

“Son, walk with me,” a deep voice broke through the silence.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. His hands moved with practiced ease as he untied the wraps around his knuckles, his calloused fingers flexing as if ready to fight the ghosts in his mind.

He followed his father out of the training hall, stepping onto the grand garden path. The moon cast a silver glow over the vast estate, the air crisp with the scent of the ocean. Flowers of every color bloomed around them, swaying gently with the wind.

“These were your mother’s favorites,” Junhyuk murmured, his gaze softening as he reached out to touch a delicate white lily.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched at the mention of her. His mother—the only person who had ever taught him love without conditions.

Junhyuk turned to face him, his expression shifting back to its usual steel.

“This fortress is yours, son,” he stated, his voice laced with finality. “Continue the legacy that your mother and I started.”

Jungkook remained silent, staring at the empire laid before him.

Power. Wealth. Control.

It was all his for the taking.

Y/n’s POV

Months passed in a blur of textbooks, late-night study sessions, and the unrelenting pressure of med school. The anxiety and sleepless nights felt endless, but every moment was worth it. And today—today—it all came to fruition.

I stood at the front of the auditorium, my cap and gown draped over my shoulders, the sea of faces blurring in front of me. My friends, Jamie and Sungkyung, stood beside me, their smiles wide and bright. We had made it.

“I can’t believe we’re actually done,” Sungkyung whispered, squeezing my arm. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I know,” I replied, my voice cracking slightly. “It feels unreal.”

Jamie grinned, her eyes playful as always, but there was an undeniable softness to her expression. “You did it, Y/n. You actually survived.”

We all laughed, the weight of the past few years finally lifting.

As the ceremony continued, I couldn’t help but think back on everything I’d been through—the highs, the lows, and everything in between. There was a part of me that had once thought I couldn’t do it, that I wasn’t strong enough. But I was. I had proved that to myself.

Graduating wasn’t just about the degree; it was about the journey. It was about finding strength in moments of vulnerability, realizing that no matter how hard it got, I could always stand back up.

“Look at you, all grown up,” Jamie said, nudging me. “Soon, you’ll be the one saving lives.”

“Maybe,” I chuckled, but my heart swelled with pride.

Sungkyung wrapped her arms around me. “You’ve come a long way, Y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

I smiled, feeling a weight lift from my chest. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly content.

Author’s POV

Two years had passed.

Y/n had moved on, embracing the life she had built for herself. She had no time for the ghosts of the past, no time to dwell on what might have been.

She was thriving.

Working as a doctor at a private hospital, she had made a name for herself—though still considered a newbie, she carried herself with confidence. Every day was an opportunity to prove that she could stand tall on her own, no longer tied to a world of chaos and heartache.

Tonight, as the amber glow of streetlights reflected off the pavement, Y/n pulled into the parking lot of her small, cozy apartment. The engine of her modest car hummed as she cut it off, the silence of the late evening settling around her. She wasn’t driving some sleek, expensive car, but the one she had now was hers.

She stepped out, locking the car, and grabbed the grocery bags from the passenger seat. They were a mix of essentials—nothing glamorous, just the basics after a long shift. Her feet carried her toward the entrance of the building when a familiar voice called out from behind her.

“Hey, Dr. Y/L/N!”

Y/n turned to find her neighbor, Suxi, standing by her door with a friendly smile on her face.

“Hey, Suxi,” Y/n greeted her with a tired but warm smile, her eyes still holding that glimmer of kindness that never seemed to fade.

Suxi took a moment to look at Y/n, her gaze thoughtful. “Long shift, huh?” she asked, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes.

Y/n nodded, adjusting the grocery bags in her hands. “Yeah, but it’s worth it. One step closer to where I want to be.”

Suxi chuckled. “I see that. You’re always hustling. You know, you’re really something, Y/n. I admire you.”

Y/n paused for a moment, looking up at the stars overhead. “Thanks, Suxi. It hasn’t been easy, but I think it’s starting to feel like it’s all coming together.”

“Good,” Suxi said with a smile, “You deserve it.”

The exchange was simple, but there was something about the moment that made Y/n reflect. Two years had gone by, and she was stronger than she had ever been. She had rebuilt herself—piece by piece, day by day.

But somewhere, deep down, she couldn’t shake the lingering question: What about him?

Jungkook’s days had been spent in a haze of cold isolation, but he had not forgotten. Even in the silence of his private island retreat, his mind often wandered back to her.

She had moved on.

He had seen her, unknowingly, through the lens of others—his men. He wasn’t foolish enough to approach her directly. Not yet. But he needed to know. He needed to see for himself how she was living, whether she was truly gone from his life or whether some part of her still lingered.

The men were discreet, of course.

Their orders were clear:

Follow her. Watch her.

They had been tailing her for weeks now, their presence so subtle she wouldn’t even know she was being watched. Jungkook sat in the shadowed confines of a luxury car parked far enough down the street, watching her apartment from behind tinted windows. A man in a dark suit, sitting beside him, leaned forward and spoke in a low tone.

“She just left her building, sir. Heading to the grocery store.”

Jungkook nodded once, his eyes narrowing. His fingers clenched into a fist on his lap.

“Good,” he muttered. “Keep watching.”

His men followed her every move—tracking her comings and goings, making sure nothing went unnoticed. Y/n’s world, her quiet life, was being slowly cataloged. Every smile exchanged with neighbors, every simple errand completed, and every peaceful moment she thought was hers—he saw it all.

From the rearview mirror, Jungkook’s reflection stared back at him, cold and distant.

It was maddening, the way he couldn’t let go, even as she moved forward, living her life without him.

A part of him was still haunted by her absence, consumed by the idea of losing her.

“Make sure she’s safe,” he ordered quietly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. “No one gets too close.”

The men nodded in silence, as they continued their watch.

Y/n’s feet echoed softly against the hallway floor as she walked toward her apartment door, the weight of the grocery bags pulling at her arms. The world around her seemed peaceful, as it always did after a long shift. Her neighbors had already retired for the night, and the usual hum of city life had quieted down.

But tonight, something felt different—like a quiet tension in the air she couldn’t quite place.

As she approached her door, she heard footsteps behind her—slow, deliberate, too steady to be a casual passerby.

Before she could react, strong arms grabbed her from behind. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she struggled against their hold, her grocery bags slipping from her grip. She spun around, but the cold steel of a gun pressed to her side froze her in place.

“Don’t scream,” one of the men warned, his voice low and menacing.

Y/n’s heart hammered in her chest, panic flooding her system. She couldn’t even scream if she wanted to—the threat of the gun was too real. She instinctively reached for her phone, but another man grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully.

“What the hell do you want?” she demanded, her voice trembling but defiant.

“We’re not here for you to talk, Dr. Y/L/N,” another man said, his grip tightening.

They started to drag her toward the elevator, her feet stumbling as she struggled to break free. The cold, silent presence of the men only intensified her fear. She recognized their faces—sharp suits, dark expressions—no one she knew, but they had the look of people who didn’t care if they were noticed.

They shoved her into the elevator, one of the men pressing the button for the ground floor. Y/n’s breath came in shallow gasps, her mind racing for an escape, for anything she could do to get out of this. She barely registered the elevator descending—her focus was on the sharp edge of the barrel against her side, the feeling of helplessness beginning to drown her.

When the elevator doors opened, they pulled her out into the underground garage, where a black van was waiting. The men shoved her into the back with frightening ease, slamming the door behind her.

The moment she landed in the cold, dark interior, the door to the front of the van opened, and a figure stepped inside—Jungkook.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with shock.

“You...” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Jungkook stood in front of her, looking more like a stranger than the man she once loved. His hair was a little longer, his face harder, the darkness in his eyes unmistakable. He looked almost... broken.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice rough, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. “What have you done?” she managed to choke out, the betrayal and fear flooding her in equal measure.

Jungkook stepped forward, his face serious, but his hands trembled as he reached for her.

“I had to. I... I didn’t know how to get you back, but I’m not letting you go again.”

The van rumbled down the road as Y/n sat there, her heart racing in her chest. Jungkook’s presence in the van made everything feel so much heavier. His face was set in a grim expression, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. He hadn’t said much since she had seen him, and the weight of silence between them was suffocating.

She pulled herself away from him, trying to steady her breathing, but the panic only grew.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/n said, her voice shaking but firm. “Let me go. Please, Jungkook.”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze cold, as though he were still wrestling with his own emotions.

Before she could say anything else, one of the men in the back of the van moved toward her. He was tall, wearing a black suit, his expression blank. He pulled out a small syringe from his pocket and showed it to her, the liquid inside swirling ominously under the dim lights of the van.

“No,” Y/n whispered, her voice low and panicked. “Please—what are you doing?”

The man didn’t answer, his face stone-cold. He grabbed her arm roughly, and before she could even try to pull away, the needle pierced her skin.

The cold sting of the injection spread through her veins, and a strange dizziness washed over her immediately. Her body felt heavy, like the weight of the world had suddenly shifted to her shoulders.

“No... no, please...” Y/n’s words slurred as she fought against the effects of the sedative. Her mind was starting to fog over, the world around her blurring. She tried to push herself up, to get away, but the strength to move was slipping away.

Jungkook’s eyes locked onto hers, a faint, almost sorrowful look in his gaze.

“I didn’t want to do this, but you left me no choice.” His voice was barely a whisper, and it hurt more than the physical pain.

She opened her mouth to speak, to plead with him one last time, but her vision swam, her head growing heavier by the second.

“I’m sorry, Y/n…” Jungkook’s voice was the last thing she heard before everything went dark.

Her body slumped, her head falling against the cold, hard surface of the van as the sedative pulled her into an unconscious haze.

Author’s POV

The low hum of the boat’s engine was the only sound filling the thick silence of the night. Y/n was completely unconscious, her body slumped in the back of the van, but her mind was still lingering somewhere in the darkness. The sedative had done its job, but it didn’t erase her awareness—only dulled it.

She could hear the men talking, their voices muffled but distinct in the space around her.

“What are we going to do with her, boss?” one of the men asked, his tone filled with cold curiosity.

Jungkook’s voice, steady and commanding, cut through the air.

“Take her to the room,” he ordered, his words deliberate, like each one was weighed with a heavy, irreversible finality.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat despite the fog in her mind. The room? She didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend what they meant.

Her head felt heavy, like it was being pulled underwater, but she could still hear them clearly.

“The room?” the man asked again, his voice betraying some uncertainty.

Jungkook didn’t falter. “Yes, the lab. The doctor that Kim Sik hired will be there, and she’ll do her part.”

Y/n’s body twitched involuntarily as her heart pounded against her ribcage. Lab? She could barely process the words as they hit her like a wave. What were they planning to do with her? The dread crept in, but her body refused to respond—still too sedated to fight, too weak to even move.

Jungkook’s voice softened just slightly, as if trying to reassure her despite the cold command in his previous words.

“You’ll be okay, baby,” he said, his words barely a whisper in the room. The tone was strangely gentle, like he was speaking to the woman he loved and not the person he had just dragged into this terrifying reality. “You’ll wake up, and everything will fall into place.”

But his words didn’t bring comfort. They only deepened the pit of fear that had already started forming in her chest.

Y/n’s eyelids fluttered, a half-conscious attempt to wake up, but the sedative still held a firm grip on her senses. Her mind raced, but her body was far too heavy to move. She felt as if she were sinking deeper into the darkness with each passing second.

Author’s POV

Y/n jolted awake, gasping for air as she clutched her stomach. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breaths shallow and erratic. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on her surroundings. She was in their bed, the familiar sheets surrounding her. The nightmare she had just woken from felt so vivid, so real. She could still feel the coldness of the laboratory bed, her clothes being ripped away, and the excruciating numbness spreading across her body. But now... now she was safe.

She touched her stomach instinctively, but when her fingers brushed over her skin, she froze. Her fingers curled around a cool metal band—a wedding ring. Jungkook.

Her eyes widened as the confusion washed over her. The dream, the nightmare, was so real, so terrifying. But... where was the baby?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Jungkook’s voice pulled her from her racing thoughts. His voice was raspy, like he had just woken up as well, though his tone was laced with concern. He reached for her gently, brushing her hair back as she sat up on the bed. “Come back to sleep, babe,” he urged softly.

Y/n blinked, still trying to piece everything together. “I… I thought…” She trailed off, shaking her head as her confusion only deepened.

The morning light crept into their room, but Y/n still felt unsettled, as if the fog of the nightmare was clinging to her, threatening to pull her under once again.

She stumbled out of bed, the dizziness hitting her like a wave. The nausea crept up in her stomach before she even made it to the bathroom. She barely managed to make it to the sink before she bent over, vomiting heavily.

Jungkook was quick to follow, his hands gentle as he held her hair back, his other hand resting on her back as he murmured softly.

“Baby, let’s get you checked out, babe,” he said, his voice filled with concern. There was an underlying tension in it, but it wasn’t the same coldness she had grown used to.

Y/n wiped her mouth, the taste lingering bitterly. “Yeah, I think so too... I’ve been dreaming weirdly these past few weeks,” she admitted, her voice hoarse. The feeling of the nightmare still haunted her, and the confusion lingered like an unwelcome guest.

Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he helped her back to their bed, though his eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place. He was trying to be supportive, but something about his demeanor made her feel like he was hiding something.

After a brief moment of silence, they were on their way to the hospital, the drive uneventful but tense.

Once they arrived, Y/n was led into a sterile examination room, the hospital’s cold air doing nothing to ease the chill she felt inside. The nurse led her inside, and she couldn’t help but blink in surprise when she saw the woman’s face. It was... Sungkyung.

For a brief moment, Y/n thought she was still in the dream. The nurse's face was the same, and the familiarity sent a shiver down her spine.

“Sungkyung?” Y/n asked in disbelief, but the nurse simply smiled warmly at her.

“Just call me Nurse Jung,” she said lightly, adjusting her clipboard.

The doctor came in shortly after, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat when she saw her. The doctor had the same features, the same aura. It was Jamie.

Jamie’s face looked as serious as ever, but Y/n could see a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.

“Y/n, we’ll take good care of you,” the doctor said, her voice calm but filled with concern. “I know you’re worried, but we’re going to run a few tests to make sure everything is okay.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind still hazy from the nightmare. Tests? But what was she supposed to be worried about?

The doctor pulled out an ultrasound machine, and Y/n was too exhausted to protest. The cold gel hit her stomach, sending a wave of discomfort through her body. The monitor flickered to life, and her heart skipped a beat when the technician started moving the wand around.

Jamie, standing next to her, gave a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Y/n. We’ll see what’s going on in there.”

But when the screen lit up, Y/n’s entire world stopped. The small, flickering shape on the monitor was unmistakable. It was a baby.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Am I...?”

“Yes,” Jamie said gently, nodding. “You’re pregnant, Y/n.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Y/n’s mind raced as her hand instinctively went to her stomach. The baby. The nightmare. She was pregnant.

But the question that filled her head was why? Why did she have no memory of this? What happened to her during the time she’d been missing? What was Jungkook hiding?

Tears filled her eyes as the truth sank in. She wasn’t just haunted by her nightmares—there was something much darker she had yet to understand.

Y/n’s heart was pounding in her chest, her hands shaking as she looked at the ultrasound screen. The small flickering shape of the baby—it was unmistakable. The words the doctor spoke barely registered in her mind, her breath caught in her throat as her world seemed to spin out of control.

“You’re pregnant, Y/n.”

The words echoed in her head like a haunting melody, but something deep inside her instinctively felt like there was more. The nightmare, the strange sensations, the growing sense of dread—it all made sense now, but it didn’t quite fit. How was she pregnant? What had happened during the time she couldn’t remember?

Jamie, still standing next to her, looked at her with concern, her gaze lingering on Y/n as she processed the news.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Jamie said softly, but her voice didn’t sound reassuring. It was filled with an unspoken worry, like there was something more hidden beneath the surface.

Y/n’s eyes darted between Jamie and the monitor. “How… How long have I been pregnant?”

The question hung in the air, and Jamie’s silence spoke volumes. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the nurse who stood in the corner of the room.

“I… I need to check something,” Jamie finally said, her voice quieter than before.

Before Y/n could ask anything further, Jamie stepped away, whispering something to the nurse who quickly left the room. The air felt thick with tension, and Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Suddenly, the door to the examination room creaked open again. A figure entered, standing still in the doorway for a moment.

Jungkook.

His eyes locked onto hers, and his face was unreadable. He stepped inside, his footsteps slow but deliberate. The cold, emotionless look in his eyes made Y/n’s chest tighten.

"Y/n..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the moment hanging between them.

“Jungkook…” Her voice cracked, too many questions swirling in her mind. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me I was pregnant?"

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, then a shadow passed over his face. He walked closer, his presence overpowering the room.

“Because I didn’t want you to know,” he said softly, the words sending a chill down her spine.

A silence settled between them, thick and suffocating. And just as Y/n opened her mouth to respond, she heard a soft knock on the door.

A voice from behind the door, low and authoritative, echoed through the room:

“Mr. Jeon... we have a problem.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes darted between Jungkook and the door. What could be more of a problem than this?

Jungkook’s expression turned cold, and he glanced back at the door. “Not now,” he muttered, but the voice on the other side persisted.

“It’s urgent, sir.”

Jungkook’s eyes met Y/n’s for a moment, his gaze darkening. The tension was palpable.

“Stay here,” he said to Y/n, his voice low, a command disguised as concern. But she could feel the weight of his words—there was something more behind them.

Before she could respond, he turned, walking swiftly toward the door.

“Wait, Jungkook, what’s going on? What’s happening?” Y/n called out, panic rising in her chest.

But Jungkook didn’t look back. As the door slammed shut behind him, Y/n was left alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning.

The sound of muffled voices outside the door grew louder as she sat there, alone with her thoughts. She had no idea what was happening, what Jungkook had been hiding from her all this time.

And then, suddenly, a soft beep filled the room—an ominous sound coming from the monitor beside her.

She looked at the screen, her eyes widening as the numbers on the machine flickered and changed.

It wasn’t just her pregnancy that was a mystery anymore.

It was everything.