JUNGKOOK’s POV

It’s been a day since I severed my deal with Choi—permanently.

In my world, broken promises come at a price, and I always collect. The trigger was an extension of my will, and when the bullet found its mark between Choi’s eyes, the chapter closed. Or so I thought.

As his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, movement caught my eye—a fleeting glimpse through the barely cracked door. Someone was there, watching.

I didn’t hesitate, striding toward the hallway, but all I found was emptiness.

It had to be her. Who else would be reckless enough to linger in the shadows of my dealings? Y/n was the only one with such audacity—or foolishness. My gut twisted as I rushed to our bedroom, intent on catching her. But when I flung the door open, she was there, seemingly undisturbed, her body curled beneath the covers, her breathing steady, her heartbeat unchanging.

Was I losing my mind? Or was she truly that skilled at masking her fear?

This paranoia wasn’t good for either of us, but deep down, I knew it was justified. She would try to escape someday. It was only a matter of time. That’s why I had spent the entire day preparing—arranging something that would solidify her place beside me.

A ball.

A grand event where Y/n would be crowned the Queen of my empire. My Queen.

Returning from finalizing the preparations in the grand hall, I asked Jennie where Y/n was. "In your room," she said casually. But when I arrived, I found only the chaos of tangled sheets on the bed.

For a moment, dread clawed at my chest. Had she—?

Barking interrupted my spiraling thoughts. From the balcony’s backyard came the unmistakable sound of dogs. I stepped outside, and there she was.

Y/n knelt on the grass, surrounded by three of the fiercest guard dogs in our compound. And yet, instead of bristling with aggression, they were nuzzling her, licking her face, their powerful bodies curled around her as if she were their pack. Her laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, as she ran her fingers through their fur.

It was a sight so foreign, so intimate, that it momentarily stole my breath.

If only she allowed me such closeness.

Descending swiftly, I smirked as I approached, my shadow cutting across her face, silencing her laughter. The sunlight faded from her expression, replaced by something I recognized all too well.

Fear.

She scrambled to her feet, her abrupt movement startling the dogs. Yet, even they cowered as I closed the distance between us.

“What do you think you’re doing?” My tone was measured, almost soft, but it did little to ease her tension.

Her gaze darted to mine, and for a moment, we were locked in a silent battle. Then she stepped back, her retreat mirroring my advance.

“What is it?” I pressed, my voice growing colder as irritation sparked. The dogs moved protectively in front of her, baring their teeth in quiet defiance.

“And what are these mutts doing here?” I growled, my patience thinning.

Y/n flinched but knelt to stroke the dogs, her trembling hands giving her away. “They’re not mutts,” she said, her voice a fragile thread of defiance. “They’re dogs. And they have names.”

She was changing the subject—desperately. I decided to indulge her, if only for a moment.

“Oh? And what are their names?” I asked, feigning disinterest as I crossed my arms.

Her expression softened as she introduced them—Holly, Bam, and Tan. She spoke with an affection that made my chest tighten. These beasts, mere tools of security in my eyes, had somehow earned a piece of her heart.

Ridiculous.

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to shatter this moment for her.

She continued playing with them, her hands brushing through their fur, her laughter resuming. I stood back, watching silently, confusion etched on my face.

Sensing my unease, she rose to face me. “Animals like them may not seem intelligent, but they are,” she said, her voice steady. “They listen better than people. They don’t judge. They’re just… there, offering comfort.”

Her words caught me off guard, but not as much as the way she looked at those dogs—like they were precious. Like they mattered.

The sunlight reflected in her eyes, a blend of colors so vibrant they seemed otherworldly. The subtle yellow flecks in her blue irises mirrored my own, yet hers seemed softer, gentler. She was standing right there, mere inches away, and yet I couldn’t reach her.

“You will be crowned Queen soon.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. “Queen?”

I sighed, realizing how she must have interpreted it. “You’ll be named second-in-command. You’ll rule beside me,” I clarified, my mind wandering to what the future might hold. “There will be a ball in your honor.”

Her cheeks flushed at my declaration, and she looked away. “D-do we really need a ball for that?” she asked, her voice shy.

“Yes,” I said firmly.

She sighed, clearly resigned. “When?”

“In a few days.”

“Do I… need to do anything before then?”

I thought for a moment. “You can pick a dress. Jennie will help.”

Her eyes lit up briefly before narrowing as I lit a cigarette. Without hesitation, she plucked it from my lips, her defiance returning.

“Don’t smoke,” she scolded, pointing an accusing finger at me. “It’s bad for your health and addictive.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her audacity. “Whatever you say, Angel.” My tone was teasing, and she rolled her eyes, brushing past me to find Jennie.

As she walked away, I pulled out a spare and lit it, the smoke curling around me.

She didn’t realize it, but she was my addiction—far more dangerous than any vice I’d ever known.

Y/N'S POV

I found myself in a dressing room filled with opulence, surrounded by dozens of exquisite ball gowns. The air was charged with Jennie’s excitement as she flitted about like a butterfly, her enthusiasm palpable. Meanwhile, I sat idly in the center, lost in a whirlpool of thoughts.

Inside me, a war raged. My head screamed that staying here was a mistake, a path that could lead to my destruction. But my heart—oh, my heart—whispered something entirely different. It murmured of change, of growth, of embracing the unknown even if danger lurked in every shadow.

“Here’s the first batch of dresses I picked for you!” Jennie’s voice shattered my reverie. I blinked back to reality, looking up to see her beaming at me as she presented at least twenty dresses. Twenty? And this was only the first round?

The gowns were bold and striking, their dark hues an embodiment of elegance. Blood-red silks and deep-blue satins dominated, their designs regal and intimidating. Jennie’s eyes sparkled with pride as she admired her selections.

I nudged her gently, pulling her out of her trance. “Which one are you wearing?” I asked with a cheerful smile, expecting her excitement to match mine.

But instead, she laughed, a hollow sound that caught me off guard.

“What is it?” I pressed.

“These are all for you, Y/n,” she replied, her voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m just here to advise and keep you company. I’m not allowed to take anything, let alone wear it.”

Her words made me pause. My brows knitted together as I glanced from the magnificent pile of dresses to Jennie, standing there as though she didn’t deserve to be a part of this.

Reaching for a deep blood-red gown adorned with intricate black embellishments, I noticed her gaze linger on it. Without hesitation, I plucked it from its rack and tossed it into her arms. She caught it carefully, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asked, clutching the gown as though it might vanish.

I turned to one of the maids, my tone resolute. “Since I am the soon-to-be Queen, I declare that Jennie gets to wear her dream dress to the ball.”

Jennie’s face lit up with joy, her laughter ringing out as she pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank you so much, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice soft with gratitude.

I patted her back, smiling. “Now go put it on before I change my mind,” I teased, shooing her toward the dressing area.

Left to my own devices, I wandered among the remaining gowns, my fingers brushing over luxurious fabrics. My eyes landed on a gown that seemed to call to me—a delicate creation with a floral corset, its light blue hue reminiscent of a serene sky. The skirt flowed with an airy elegance, its thin overlay giving way to layers of subtle, puffed floral fabric.

Holding it in my hands, I knew. This was the dress I would wear when crowned.

Summoning one of the attendants, I asked if the gown could be fitted. She nodded, motioning for me to step into a private room. There, I disrobed and allowed her to take my measurements, the cold tape grazing my skin.

She was nearly finished when a sharp knock startled both of us. We turned to see a flustered maid shielding her eyes as she spoke. “Apologies, ladies. Miss Y/n, Mr. Jeon has requested to see you outside the fitting rooms.”

I nodded, slipping into a silk robe with haste before heading toward the exit.

Peeking out, I was met by his intense gaze. His eyes, dark and commanding, locked onto mine.

“What took you so long?” he asked, his tone sharp with impatience.

I offered a nervous smile, opening the door wider to reveal myself fully. “They were getting my measurements,” I replied calmly.

But as I met his eyes, I saw something shift—his irises darkened, flickers of something primal and unspoken sparking within them. A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched him struggle to mask the heat that crept across his face.

“Just… meet me back in our room,” he said, his voice lower, slower, before abruptly pulling the door shut.

The moment he was gone, I let out a laugh, unable to contain my amusement. Seeing him flustered like that was a rarity—and endlessly entertaining.

Returning to the fitting room, I was greeted by a familiar face. Lia, the maid who had helped me prepare for the masquerade, stood waiting.

My smile widened as I waved at her. “It’s so good to see you again!”

Lia returned the gesture warmly, and after exchanging pleasantries, she resumed the task of taking my measurements.

As she worked, we chatted casually, her presence a comforting reminder that amidst the chaos of this life, there were still pockets of normalcy. For now, I held onto those moments, savoring them like fleeting treasures.

★——★

Walking down the now-deserted hallway, I found solace in the quiet. The workers had retreated to their own corners, leaving the space bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun streaming through the tall windows. The sight outside was mesmerizing—a tapestry of autumn trees painted in fiery oranges and reds, the sun dipping low on the horizon, casting its final warmth over the earth. It was a moment of serene beauty, a balm to the chaos in my mind. But that tranquility shattered the instant I stepped into Jungkook’s room.

There he was, sprawled lazily across the sheets, his chiseled form illuminated by the golden light cascading through the window. The sunlight caressed his skin, accentuating the ridges of his abs, each one carved to perfection. He looked like a vision pulled from a dream—a dream too dangerous to indulge in.

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt, my brain scrambling for coherence as my breath hitched in my throat. Without thinking, I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound echoing like thunder in the quiet hallway.

Leaning my forehead against the cool surface of the door, I exhaled shakily, trying to ground myself. What was I doing? Why was I so flustered? My cheeks burned with a heat I couldn’t shake, my heart racing like it was trying to escape my chest.

After a moment to collect myself, I reopened the door, albeit hesitantly this time. And there he was again—except now, that devastatingly smug smirk tugged at his lips, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. The sight made my stomach flip, and panic took hold of me. Without a word, I bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me like it was the only shield I had against him.

Inside, I leaned against the cold tiles, my breath coming quickly and shallow. My mind was a chaotic mess, my emotions spiraling as I tried to make sense of this pull he had over me. As I grappled with my thoughts, a soft knock on the bathroom door made me freeze.

“Is everything alright in there, Angel?” His voice was low, rich, and tinged with a teasing edge. The way he said "Angel" made my knees weak.

“Absolutely fine,” I replied too quickly, my voice an octave higher than normal. His quiet chuckle echoed on the other side of the door, a sound that sent shivers down my spine.

After a moment, I heard his footsteps retreating, leaving me alone to confront the storm of emotions swirling within me.

Why did he have this effect on me?

Why did the simplest look, the faintest touch, feel like he was unraveling me thread by thread?

He was making it so much harder to leave.