Chloe POV

My eyes flitted up to the camera feeds again. I couldn't bear to look at the screens anymore. I'd seen too much already—too much death, too much loss. Every flicker of those images replayed the devastation, the blood, the faces I would never see again. It was as if the more I watched, the more pieces of myself unravelled until there was nothing left but this hollow shell I no longer recognized.

My already battered heart couldn't take more. So I tore my gaze away and let the heaviness in my legs give out as I collapsed onto the Murphy bed—the only semblance of comfort in this panic room. My body curled in on itself, instinctively shielding the life growing inside me as sobs wracked through me. My chest felt hollow. Empty. It was as though Hoseok and Jungkook had taken a piece of my soul with them. The weight of their absence pressed down like a physical burden, and the silence in the room was deafening.

Once, this room had felt like a sanctuary. A place of safety amongst all those cruel, ruthless people attending the gala. The cold walls around me felt protective rather than suffocating. Now, it felt like a prison—a cruel reminder that I was alone, trapped in this room while the world outside crumbled. The silence that once calmed me now mocked me, pressing in from every direction, deafening in its vastness.

Sobs wracked my body, yet the sound of my cries felt small in the overwhelming silence of the room. My chest ached with the weight of all I had lost, the void left by Hoseok and Jungkook deepening with every passing second. It was as if they had taken a piece of my soul with them when death came for them. The pain wasn't just emotional—it was physical. Their absence pressed down on me like an unbearable burden, suffocating me with every breath I took. I felt as though I were drowning, gasping for air in the stillness.

Every second stretched into eternity, each moment a cruel reminder that I was still here. Waiting, hoping, praying. I clung to the fragile belief that someone, anyone, other than Jungkook had to know the secret code to get me out of this place. It didn't stop my mind from racing with worry, though.

What if the secret knock was something just between him and me?

What if no one else knew?

What if I was stuck here, trapped forever and forgotten like a ghost locked away in a room that no one would ever think to check?

Yet even in the suffocating darkness of my despair, there was a glimmer of hope—tiny and fragile, but there, nonetheless. Deep within me, I refused to believe this was the end. I couldn't die here, not like this—not before seeing my love again. I had to hold on, not just for myself, but for Yoongi and the life growing inside me. This tiny spark of hope was all I had left, a promise that I would see this through. Until then, all I could do was wait, my tears falling like silent vows to honour those I had lost and protect the life I was carrying.

As my sobs finally subsided, I lay still. My body and mind were beyond exhausted, worn out from clinging to that faint hope like a lifeline.

Maybe, just maybe, someone would come.

⋆⁺₊⋆ 🖤 ⋆⁺₊⋆

A faint metallic banging echoed through the panic room, cutting through the oppressive silence. Jungkook had told me in that Bostonian bathroom that, while the room was soundproof, certain impacts on the outer structure could still be heard from within. This was one of those moments—a distant, hollow sound that managed to breach the otherwise impenetrable walls.

Ba-da-dah, bah-da-doo, bah-dah-dee.

Ba-da-dah-dah, bah-dah-da-da-da, ba-da-dum.

A smile crept across my face as I recognised the pattern in the faint metallic tapping. Relief surged through me, warming my entire body like the first rays of sunshine after a long, moonless night. I hadn't been forgotten; someone was out there, someone knew. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope blossomed within me, dispelling the suffocating fear that had held me captive for so long.

I rushed over to the desk, my steps now lighter. Although my heart was pounding, it was not from anxiety but from anticipation. My eyes darted across the control panel, searching for the key to my freedom. There it was—the 'Engage Unlock' button was glowing invitingly in the dim light. Without hesitation, I pressed it, an electric thrill coursing through me as hope surged anew.

The song that had been quietly echoing in my mind suddenly broke free, filling me with an unstoppable sense of joy. My voice escaped before I could rein it in, singing lines that felt like a promise, a declaration to the universe.

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, and I'm feeling good..."

Each word bore the weight of my excitement, the exhilaration of knowing I was finally getting out of the panic room. As the door whirred to life and the pressure lock disengaged with a reassuring click, my voice grew stronger and infused the space with newfound energy.

The walls that had once felt like a prison now seemed to be retreating. I could almost taste the fresh air outside, and feel the freedom waiting just beyond these walls. I sang louder, letting the melody envelop me, celebrating my imminent escape.

The door slid open with a soft whoosh, but to me, it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. Yet it wasn't just the sound—it was the man standing before me that made every moment of torment worthwhile. He had never stopped fighting to protect me. He'd risked everything, even his life.

I rushed into his arms, crashing against his solid chest. His deep chuckle resonated within me, a soothing balm for my raw emotions.

"I missed you too, Angel," he murmured, his voice thick with love. In his embrace, I felt safe at last. I was finally home.

I thought my tears had run dry, but my body betrayed me and I was wracked with unexpected sobs. I wanted to cry for joy at seeing Yoongi again, but the tears that fell were tinged with guilt—for marrying Hoseok, for carrying my husband's child, and for betraying the love Yoongi had given me. My tears mourned the lives that would never be. The life where Yoongi and I lived in Hawaii, childless but happy. The one where Hoseok cradled the child he was besotted with after it had wormed its way into his heart. The one where Jungkook could be free to love whomever he wanted without the worry of being undercover.

I felt weightless, offering no resistance as Yoongi scooped me into his arms. As he carried me through the halls, I buried my face in the crook of his neck, unable to confront the aftermath of the raid. Watching it unfold on the screens had been horrifying enough. The sharp scent of gunpowder lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic sting of blood. The closer we got, the stronger the smells became, and I squeezed my eyes shut, unwilling to look even for a second. I was grateful for Yoongi's protective hold—without it, I knew the sight would be etched in my mind forever.

︵‿୨ 🌸 🖤 🌸 ୧‿︵

Yoongi POV

Chloe's sobs tore at my heart. I could hardly comprehend what she had seen on those screens. Even the fleeting glimpses I caught over her shoulder haunted me, and I had only seen them for a moment. The images were displayed in sharp, high definition, so there was no hope that the feed had been pixelated to soften the brutal reality of the carnage. My heart ached for her, knowing she had been forced to confront such unimaginable horrors.

I couldn't bear the thought of her witnessing any more of the death and destruction up close, so I gently picked her up and cradled her in my arms. It felt so comforting to hold her again. I breathed in the familiar scent of her sweet perfume that enveloped me. I longed to kiss her, but I didn't want to overwhelm her in such a fragile moment. I knew that getting out of the hotel would be traumatic enough for her. I didn't want to add to her stress; it wasn't healthy for the baby.

The news of her pregnancy came as a complete shock, particularly since her medical records indicated she was on birth control. What baffled me further was that a blood test showed no traces of the pill's ingredients in her system. A deeper investigation uncovered the shocking truth: Red Velvet had orchestrated the entire scheme to force my girlfriend into pregnancy. Irene's search history was filled with pages on how to replicate the effects of Chloe's birth control. It didn't take long to trace the deception back to a pharmacy, where Red Velvet had blackmailed the pharmacist into tampering with a three-month supply by replacing the pills with mere sugar tablets.

If Jungkook and Namjoon hadn't filled me in on the raid and their plans to bring Hoseok and Irene down, I would have killed her myself for what she did to Chloe. Forcing and manipulating someone into a pregnancy when they never wanted children is a form of torture no one should ever endure.

The journey back through the hallways felt much quicker than the tense trek I had taken to reach the panic room. Each step now carried a sense of urgency and hope, a stark contrast to the fear that had weighed me down on my way in.

Instead of the sporadic gunfire I had encountered earlier, an eerie silence enveloped the building, thick with tension. It was as if the very walls were holding their breath, anticipating another sudden outbreak of violence at any moment. Hostile gangsters either lay lifeless in pools of their blood or were being hauled away in handcuffs by law enforcement.

I dreaded the mountain of paperwork that would await Namjoon after this. I couldn't help but wonder how he and the other agencies would justify the extensive damage inflicted on the ballroom and the surrounding areas. The repair costs would be astronomical, but the damage to the hotel's reputation would take years to mend.

Chloe buried her face deeper into my neck, trying to escape the thick stench of death and destruction in the air. I would gladly endure this harrowing journey a million times over, holding her in my arms, before I would ever allow her to confront the nightmare surrounding us.

I pressed a soft kiss to her temple as we passed Hoseok's lifeless body. Although I had once resented him for getting to marry Chloe instead of me, I felt no bitterness towards him now. Like my girlfriend, he had been a pawn in Irene's game. From the glimpses I had caught through the hacked cameras in their home, it was evident that he treated Chloe with kindness and support—he was genuinely in love with her. It brought me some comfort to know that during the months we had been apart, someone had been there to care for her.

As I stepped out of the Velmont Regency and onto Fifth Avenue, the night erupted with the flashing lights of law enforcement vehicles, casting pulses of blue and red across the sky. A crowd had gathered, pressing against the barrier of yellow crime tape. Thick New York accents filled the air with shouts for answers, eager to understand what had happened.

News crews swarmed the scene, cameras rolling to capture the unfolding chaos. Reporters stood amid the mayhem, delivering live updates, while trucks from every major network lined the avenue, their satellite dishes reaching skyward.

Agents from various agencies were scattered throughout the area—some engaged in hushed conversations, while others crouched on the ground, scribbling notes. Nearby, a few paramedics attended to the injured, and a long line of ambulances stood ready to transport the wounded and their law enforcement escorts to the hospital. The entire scene buzzed with an electric tension that felt as if it could snap at any moment.

"Sir, are either of you injured?" a paramedic asked, slightly breathless from jogging over to us.

I shook my head. "No, we're both fine. But thank you," I replied, offering her a small smile. "Do you know where I can find the person in charge?"

She nodded and pointed to the right. I gave her a grateful smile before heading in the direction she indicated.

"Yoongi, I just want to go home," Chloe murmured, her voice fragile from all the tears she had shed.

"We will soon, Angel," I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. "But first, there's a certain Special Agent in Charge who needs to see you before he drives himself crazy with worry."

⋆⁺₊⋆ 🖤 ⋆⁺₊⋆

In the warm, steamy bath, Chloe lay against my chest, her body completely exhausted from the ordeal of the raid. The soft glow of the bathroom lights bathed the room in a gentle haze, reflecting off the water as I ran a sponge slowly across her skin, letting warm droplets trickle down her arms and shoulders. Her breath was steady now, no longer ragged from the tears.

"Angel, as I said before, I'll support whatever you want to do about the baby," I murmured, my voice quiet but steady, reassuring her once more.

"And if I decide to keep it?" she asked hesitantly, her voice laced with worry as if she feared she would say the wrong thing.

I pressed my lips against her temple, whispering, "Then I will shower that little boy or girl with so much love that they will never doubt they are my child. I may not be the biological father, but I will love that baby as if it were my own."

"And what if it grows up to be like Hoseok or my mother?"

I gently tilted Chloe's chin, seeking her gaze. "Angel, this baby will be nothing like either of them because it will be surrounded by nothing less than unconditional love and affection."

"Why?" She looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Why are you so certain of that?"

I kissed her softly, savouring the taste I had missed so much. "Because I love their mother, and she has the kindest, biggest heart of anyone I've ever known."

My hand rested protectively on her tiny baby bump, feeling the faint rise beneath my palm. As I continued to take care of her, smoothing the sponge over her soft skin, I whispered reassurances, reminding her that everything was going to be alright. In this quiet moment, it was just us—away from the chaos, the flashing lights, and the trauma. For now, we had each other.

"I love you, Yoongi Min," she sighed in happiness.

"Not half as much as I love you, Chloe Harlowe."