The seconds tick by as you stare down the flawless white door of the crazy room you're stuck in, heart beating out a steady rhythm.

Your punishment?

If Jungkook walks through that door with any kind of object that looks even vaguely like it could belong in 50 Shades of Grey, you're gonna karate chop his body in half with one fell blow.

You're not into that kinky stuff.

However, when the door finally creaks open in a slow, smooth motion, it isn't Jungkook carrying an armful of whips and handcuffs like you expected it to be.

Instead, it's a cool man with an angular face and light brown hair who slips into the room on silent feet, shutting the door behind him with a soft thud.

There's no hesitation in his movement, only complete confidence as he strides into the room on long legs and takes a seat at the chair opposite yours.

"Hello, Y/N," says Namjoon.

He sits lightly in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, the perfect picture of elegant poise. He's flawless, clad in another long coat over a soft cashmere sweater and slacks. His single lip piercing that bisects his bottom lip adds a caution-causing intensity to his classic style.

There's some relief surging through your system at the fact that it's him instead of Jungkook but, in the back of your mind, you understand that might be part of Namjoon's appeal.

While the others seem a little wild, a little reckless at times, Namjoon seems so calm.

He's like an oasis in the middle of the desert of chaos. A pretty flower tangled up in the midst of thorny vines.

That's his appeal, you think, just like Hoseok's is his beautifully extroverted personality and Taehyung's is his ethereal looks.

But, Namjoon isn't a harmless little flower.

No, he might be more dangerous than any Bangtan Boy that you've met yet. His entire aura is a facade to lure people in; he's like a Venus fly trap.

Beautiful and tempting, waiting to snap closed around you as soon as you get close enough.

You won't.

You keep yourself on guard as you watch the man sitting so casually on the other side of the table, arms crossed in a physical representation of your mental state.

"Hello," you answer quietly.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, observing.

"I ran into Jungkook on the staircase," he says suddenly, the words flowing like velvet from between his full lips. "He was running around the house, insistent on finding something to 'punish' you with. Sorry. He gets a little over-protective sometimes."

A little. That's an understatement.

Namjoon continues on. "You see, those six guys out there are my brothers. And some of them think you're up to no good." His intense, heavy lidded eyes watch you knowingly, and he leans in to whisper to you, as if you're small children sharing a secret.

"I don't think you're going to hurt anyone," he says in confidence. "But, as the same time, there are things I need to know. Do you understand? I have to protect my family."

Your mind drifts absently to your beloved cousin, still trapped in that house.

"I understand," you say quietly. "I really haven't come to hurt anyone, or get information. It's all been coincidence that I've run into you."

Namjoon's head tilts to the side slightly. "That you've run into us, yes," he says. "But not that you're running. What are you running from, Song Y/N? Usually the kids of rich, powerful parents won't be dragged away from their life without kicking and screaming." His long fingers splay out on the table in intent, tan on white.

No. You were kicking and screaming, but that was before you ran. Kicking and screaming to get out, directly after your father revealed a secret plan to you that shook the foundations of your life.

"I wanted out," you whisper. "But they wouldn't let me. So I ran."

"But why?" His eyes are glittering with a dull eagerness for knowledge that makes you shiver. "What did they do?"

You're hesitant to tell him. The thing that made you run was a plan for the future, a safety net for your father's business. Telling Namjoon will reveal a well-set plan that could give him an in to the Song family, and you don't want to risk Jisoo.

"If I answer your question, you have to promise to answer mine," you bargain suddenly, breaking off from direct line of conversation. "How did you find out who I am? How do you know my family? Why do you think you're in danger?"

Namjoon's fingers tap elegantly on the white surface as he considers. "Fine," He relents. "You answer my questions, I'll answer yours. Deal?"

"Deal," you say immediately. "I ran because of what my father had planned for me. How did you find out about me?"

"Someone hired a hitman to take you out," Namjoon replies cooly. "And then we were hired to take him out. What was your father planning?"

The man that was chasing you. He was a hitman too.

Someone's trying to kill you, and you know exactly why. If you're taken out, then your father won't have an heir to take over when he's dead and gone.

Your father has made too many enemies in his life; now they've all got a target on your back.

And what is that man planning?

To ruin your life.

You pause, taking a deep breath. "I was raised to be perfect," you say in a trembling voice. "I went to my lessons, and learned how to be a lady, and got good grades. I wasn't allowed to have friends. No boys, no friends. I went straight to school and then straight home, every day. No one talked to me."

"That sounds lonely," Namjoon says sympathetically, in a voice that sounds genuinely sincere.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself on.

"I didn't know about the 'family business'. I thought my dad was an accountant, of all things, and he was just protective. He just loved me a lot. Thought that I just had a lot of uncles." The scornful laughter burns in your throat like alcohol. "Stupid, yeah? Then one day, my dad calls me to to his office."

You can still remember it in clear detail. The smell of leather and books in his study, and him reclined behind his desk as you stood before him, your mother seated in the corner One of your supposed 'uncles' had been there, too, standing behind your father like a body guard.

His name was Min Seoungmin.

He was young-ish, maybe ten or fifteen years older than you. You'd never liked him - there was something in his aura that gave you a bad feeling.

And when you looked at your father that day, there was a cold gleam in his eye you didn't understand.

Your obliviousness didn't last for long.

"He wants me to marry his right hand man, and make sure that our family remains in power" you whisper to Namjoon, staring blankly at the white. "Secure his line in the future. I was raised like an animal, just to breed."

Saying it out loud almost makes you sick.

You were isolated completely from the world in order to come out as the perfect little wife, a wife that would lay down and turn over when commanded by whomever your father had chosen.

Your father chose Seoungmin, an older man who's utmost loyalty to your father earned him a place as the rightful inheritor.

You weren't a child to your family; you were an asset to continuous power.

And there's even more, but you refuse to spill it without another answer from Namjoon.

Extinguishing any emotion from your voice, you say, "What danger am I putting you in?"

Exhaling heavily, the man leans back. "Nothing we can't handle. Just a lot people snooping around here looking for you. I'm assuming your know who we are by now." You nod to him. Sharp eyes drop to the table, where your thighs are folded underneath. "Of course, if you didn't have that tattoo on you, things would be much simpler. We could just throw you to the wolves."

The tattoo. You unconsciously cover part of it with your palm. "Why is the tattoo keeping you from doing that?"

One of Namjoon's eyebrows rises up, an incredulous look spreading across his face. "We take our mark very seriously, Song Y/N," he says. "We protect our own. The second your got that design inked on you, you became one of us."

"No." You shake your head, panicking as your horrified wonderings are coming to life before your very eyes. "No, I didn't know. It doesn't count. I'll get it removed or something."

Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. "You'll be associated with us for the rest of your life, Y/N, whether you get it removed or not. It's too late."

No.

No.

This is what you were trying to run from.

You want away from this world.

But, how is it, that you've simply tangled yourself up in it even more?

[A/N]
Unedited
If you're confused, please leave a comment so I'll know if there's anything I need to clarify in the following chapter (about why you ran away. I'm not done explaining the whole tattoo thing yet 😏😉)