The soft clinking of cutlery echoed through the sleek, modern kitchen of Miso's penthouse apartment. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air-a stark contrast to the thick tension between the two best friends sitting at the glass dining table.

Miso stabbed her fork into her salad, sharp eyes narrowing as she studied the man across from her. Min Yoongi, as usual, was the picture of unbothered elegance-one hand resting lazily on the table, the other casually twirling a spoon in his fingers as he sipped yet another iced Americano. His dark eyes, always unreadable, held an unusual glint today.

They had spent the last hour in her room dissecting every detail of last night-Marco's sudden appearance, the flood of emotions it triggered, and Miso's firm refusal to let Taehyung in on any of it. Now, as they shared a meal together, Yoongi decided to drop another bomb.

"I'm not going back to Busan," he announced casually, as if he were merely commenting on the weather.

Miso's fork stopped mid-air. Her gaze snapped up. "Excuse me?"

Yoongi smirked, taking a deliberate sip of his coffee. "You heard me, princess. I'm staying in Seoul."

Miso placed her fork down with exaggerated slowness, her sharp nails tapping against the table. "Yoongi, don't be ridiculous. You don't need to change your plans because of me."

Yoongi raised an unimpressed brow. "Wow. You really think I altered my entire schedule for you?" He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I was planning on staying before I even knew about your little... situation."

Miso folded her arms, eyeing him skeptically. "Oh really? Then why does it feel like you're suddenly over-invested?"

"Because I am over-invested," Yoongi deadpanned. "Sue me." He leaned back, swirling the ice in his coffee. "Look, first of all, I have business here. Unlike some people who spend their days verbally destroying mafia kings and biting their way out of trouble, I actually have work to do."

Miso rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You sit in a big chair and approve contracts. You make it sound like you're building skyscrapers with your bare hands."

Yoongi smirked. "Exactly. And yet, I still have to deal with you on top of all that. Talk about a full-time job."

Miso huffed, ignoring the warmth that spread through her chest at his words. Yoongi wasn't just her best friend-he was her person. The one who had been there through everything. And now, knowing he was staying in Seoul, a part of her felt... relieved. But she wasn't about to admit that.

"You're wasting your time," she muttered, spearing another bite of her salad. "I can handle this myself, Yoongi. I don't need a babysitter."

Yoongi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Miso, darling, no one in their right mind would try babysitting you. I have zero interest in losing my sanity." He took another sip of his coffee before adding, "But that doesn't mean I'm leaving you to deal with this alone."

Miso scoffed. "I don't need-"

"Yes, yes, you don't need anyone, you're a badass, you can fight your own battles, yada yada-I get it." He waved a dismissive hand. "And you can handle it. But you shouldn't have to." His voice softened slightly. "You don't always have to fight alone, Miso."

Miso hesitated. The sincerity in his words made her chest tighten, but she quickly masked it with sarcasm.

"Well, since you insist on hovering like an overprotective mother hen, I guess I'll allow it," she said dramatically, flipping her hair.

Yoongi sighed. "God, you're exhausting."

She smirked. "And yet, you're staying. So what does that say about you?"

"That I must have done something truly terrible in my past life to be stuck with you," he muttered under his breath.

Miso grinned, lifting her glass of juice in a mock toast. "To suffering."

Yoongi clinked his coffee cup against her glass. "To chaos."

Just when Miso thought the conversation was done, another thought crossed her mind. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute. Where exactly are you staying?"

Yoongi smirked, dragging the moment out just to annoy her. "Oh, didn't I mention? Here."

Miso blinked. "Here? As in this building?"

Yoongi lazily gestured around the dining room. "Yeah. This very building. The apartment right below yours, actually."

Miso's mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. "You bought an apartment here?"

"Mm-hmm." He took another slow sip of his drink, relishing her reaction.

"In this building?"

"Yup."

"Where I live?"

Yoongi flashed her a wicked grin. "You're catching on."

Miso groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope. Signed the lease this morning."

She shot him a glare. "You planned this, didn't you?"

Yoongi's smirk deepened. "Oh, sweetheart, I execute plans-I don't just make them."

Miso let out an exaggerated groan, slumping back in her chair. "God, you're insufferable."

"And yet, you love me."

She huffed, picking up her glass of juice. "That remains debatable."

Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head. "Face it, Miso, you're stuck with me."

She shot him a dry look. "Unfortunately."

Yoongi raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "To unwanted houseguests and overprotective best friends."

Miso clinked her glass against his with a smirk. "To absolute chaos."

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

The sound of Yoongi's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way toward the elevator. Miso followed him to the door, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

"Try not to miss me too much, princess," Yoongi teased as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

Miso rolled her eyes. "Oh, trust me, I'll cherish every second of peace while you're gone."

Yoongi smirked, but there was an underlying warmth in his gaze. He reached out, ruffling her hair in that infuriating way he always did. "Be good, brat."

"Be gone," she shot back, swatting his hand away.

The elevator doors slid open, and for the first time, Yoongi's expression turned serious. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

Miso held his gaze, her usual snark momentarily fading. She wasn't the type to admit when she needed someone. But Yoongi-he always knew, even when she didn't say it.

"I know," she muttered, looking away.

Yoongi gave her one last look before stepping inside. The doors closed, and just like that, he was gone.

Miso exhaled, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the door. She was relieved that he was staying, but the relief was overshadowed by the creeping weight pressing against her chest.

Marco was here.

After seven years, he had resurfaced-like a shadow from the past she had buried deep. But she wasn't the same girl he had left behind. She wasn't weak. She wasn't helpless.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Letting out a shaky breath, she turned away from the door and made her way toward the living room, sinking onto the couch. Her mind, however, refused to settle.

Taehyung.

The name alone sent a wave of emotions crashing through her. He's different. That thought had been circling in her head since this morning. His demeanor, his words, his touch-everything about him felt... changed.

She had spent months pushing his buttons, expecting nothing but anger in return. He had given her just that-until today.

There was something unnerving about the way he had spoken to her earlier. Something almost gentle.

She scoffed, shaking her head. Kim Taehyung doesn't do gentle.

Yet, he had.

And that terrified her more than his coldness ever did.

Because she could handle anger. She could handle the harsh words, the dominance, the battle of wills. That was familiar. That was easy.

But this? This was unpredictable.

And unpredictability was dangerous.

Her hands clenched into fists as she stared at the floor.

Then there was her little space.

Last night had been a blur-a haze of shock and fear that had sent her spiraling into a part of herself she had no control over. It had happened before, but not like this. Not in front of him.

And the worst part?

He hadn't mocked her. He hadn't thrown her weakness in her face.

If anything, Taehyung had protected her.

Why?

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She hated feeling vulnerable. Hated that he had seen a part of her she never wanted him to see.

Miso swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of her dress. She had spent her entire life surviving, fighting, proving that she wasn't weak. She couldn't afford to let her emotions get in the way now.

Whatever this new side of Taehyung was, she couldn't trust it.

She wouldn't trust it.

Because at the end of the day, Taehyung was still Taehyung.

And people like them?

They didn't change.

They only adapted to destroy you when you least expected it.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

The sky outside was painted in deep amber and violet, the last remnants of daylight melting into the horizon. Miso sat on the plush couch, knees drawn to her chest, her gaze fixed on the glass windows that overlooked Seoul’s dazzling skyline.

The city was alive, buzzing with lights, laughter, and stories unfolding behind closed doors. Yet here she was—trapped in a golden cage, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.

A part of her felt relief that Yoongi was here. His presence was like a steady anchor in the storm, a silent reminder that she wasn’t completely alone in this twisted game. But relief was fleeting, quickly drowned by the overwhelming uncertainty curling in her chest like a coiled snake.

Marco was back.
Taehyung was changing.
Yoongi was staying.

The pieces were shifting, and Miso hated it.

For years, she had learned to control her world, to keep herself guarded behind walls so high no one could reach her. But last night—last night had been different. Last night, she had been vulnerable. Exposed.

And Taehyung had seen it.

But instead of exploiting it, instead of using it against her like she had expected—he had protected her.

Why?

Why was he acting differently? Why wasn’t he being the arrogant, heartless bastard she had grown used to?

Miso clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had no time to figure Taehyung out. Whatever his game was, she refused to fall for it. No one had ever truly been on her side before. Why would he be any different?

She sucked in a sharp breath, trying to suppress the anxiety creeping up her spine.

But deep down, she knew.

Everything was changing.

And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

A suffocating silence filled Taehyung’s office, the only sound coming from the slow, measured tapping of his fingers against the armrest of his chair. His dark eyes burned with unfiltered rage, though his expression remained eerily composed.

Inside, however, he was anything but calm.

His thoughts clawed at him, each one sharper than the last.

That man.

The way Miso had curled into herself, trembling, retreating into a place so deep that nothing had been able to reach her—except for him. Taehyung’s grip tightened around the crystal glass in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

Who the fuck was that bastard?

Who had the power to make her feel that small, that terrified?

His chest burned with something dangerously close to fury. He wanted to find the man responsible, to make him pay.

But that wasn’t the only thing fueling his anger.

Min Yoongi.

Taehyung exhaled sharply, his jaw locking. He had tried—so damn hard—to convince himself that Yoongi’s presence was insignificant. That it didn’t bother him. That it didn’t matter.

But it did.

And it infuriated him.

The thought of Yoongi being the one she trusted, the one she turned to, the one who could walk into her life without resistance—it burned.

Taehyung didn’t do jealousy. It was an emotion for the weak, for men who let their hearts rule over their minds. And yet, here he was, gripping his glass so tightly he thought it might shatter, seething over the fact that Yoongi had a place in Miso’s life that he did not.

A sharp knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he ordered coldly, his voice as sharp as a blade.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and in stepped Yin and Yang.

Yin was composed as always—his sleek black suit pristine, his movements precise. His cold, calculating gaze flickered toward Taehyung before he wordlessly stepped aside, allowing Yang to walk forward with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Good evening, Boss,” Yang greeted, the usual mischief in his tone. “You seem… tense.”

Taehyung shot him a warning look, but Yang, as always, remained unfazed.

Yin, on the other hand, wasted no time. He placed a sleek black folder onto Taehyung’s desk and stepped back, his voice smooth and even. “We retrieved the guest list from Namjoon-hyung, as you requested.”

Taehyung’s eyes darkened as he reached for the folder, flipping it open with slow precision. His gaze scanned the list, meticulously taking in each name, each invitation—until his eyes landed on a single blank space.

His fingers stilled.

His grip tightened ever so slightly.

The room dropped a few degrees.

A chilling silence settled between them before Taehyung finally spoke, his voice a low, quiet threat.

“What. Is. This?”

Yang leaned in slightly, peering over the desk. The moment he spotted the blank space, he let out a whistle. “Huh. Well, that’s new.”

Taehyung’s gaze snapped up to him.

Yang immediately straightened. “I mean, not new new, but unusual, yeah? We don’t usually have empty slots on these lists. Maybe Namjoon-hyung knows?”

His tone was casual—too casual.

Taehyung’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes were like ice.

The tension in the room was suffocating, thick like smoke lingering after a gunshot. Taehyung sat at his desk, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his whiskey glass, though he hadn’t taken a sip. His dark eyes remained locked on the black folder lying open before him.

A name missing from the guest list. A single, empty space.

A detail so small—yet significant enough to send suspicion crawling up his spine like a slow, cold burn.

Yin and Yang stood before him in silence, waiting. Their presence was a quiet reminder that whatever came next would set things in motion.

Taehyung exhaled sharply, his patience thinning by the second. Without another thought, he picked up his phone and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then—

"Taehyung-ah," Namjoon’s voice filtered through, smooth yet laced with curiosity. "Didn’t expect a call from you this late. What’s wrong?"

Taehyung wasted no time. “The guest list,” he said coldly. “There’s a blank space.”

A beat of silence. Then—

"Ah."

The simple acknowledgment sent a slow wave of irritation through Taehyung’s veins.

His grip on the phone tightened. “Explain.”

Namjoon sighed, as if already knowing this conversation would lead nowhere pleasant. "It was Father’s request."

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. He leaned forward, pressing his free hand against the desk. “Father doesn’t make ‘requests’ when it comes to official events. He gives orders.”

"Well, in this case, it was both."

“Who is it for?”

"He didn’t say."

Taehyung’s patience snapped like a thread pulled too tight. “You expect me to believe that?”

"Believe what you want," Namjoon replied, his tone level up. "All I know is that Father told me he would be personally inviting someone, and that their name was not to be disclosed on the list."

Silence stretched between them.

Taehyung’s fingers drummed against the wood, slow and calculating. “Since when does Father personally invite guests?”

"That’s what I said," Namjoon admitted. "But I figured it wasn’t worth questioning. Maybe it really is just an old friend."

Taehyung let out a dry chuckle, void of humor. “Since when do we entertain ‘old friends’ at official events?”

"You’re not wrong," Namjoon conceded, voice quieter now.

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. “And you didn’t find this suspicious?”

"Of course, I did," Namjoon replied smoothly. "But what exactly was I supposed to do? Go against our father’s direct order?"

“Yes,” Taehyung bit out.

A low chuckle. "Funny. You and I both know that’s not how things work."

Taehyung inhaled deeply through his nose, his patience running on embers.

Then, he asked the one question that had been gnawing at him from the start.

“Did you ask him why?”

"Yes."

“And?”

"And he told me it was none of my business."

Silence.

Namjoon sighed again, this time heavier. "Look, Taehyung. I get why you’re suspicious, but let’s be realistic. What are you going to do? Confront him? Demand an answer?"

Taehyung’s eyes darkened. “No. I’ll find out myself.”

Namjoon chuckled softly, but there was no amusement in it. "Of course, you will."

There was a pause before Namjoon’s tone shifted slightly, becoming more curious than cautious. "But tell me something—why the sudden interest in the guest list? You’ve never cared about these things before."

Taehyung didn’t respond immediately.

He could feel Yin and Yang watching him, waiting to see if he would reveal more than he intended.

But Taehyung had already made up his mind.

“You’ll know when we meet at the Jimin's bar tonight.”

A hum of acknowledgment. "Fine. I’ll wait."

Taehyung moved to end the call when Namjoon spoke again.

"Taehyung."

His finger hovered over the screen. “What?”

A brief pause. Then, in a quieter voice—

"Be careful."

Taehyung’s lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Since when  you need to be worried about me?”

"Since you started asking questions that could get you in trouble."

Taehyung chuckled, low and dangerous. “Trouble finds me either way, hyung.”

"That’s what worries me."

A soft click.

The call ended.

Taehyung placed his phone on the desk and exhaled slowly, his fingers pressing against his temples.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Across from him, Yin and Yang stood with practiced ease, their presence as steady as ever. Yin, the composed and unshakable force, remained silent, his hands casually tucked behind his back. Yang, on the other hand, had a glint of mischief in his eyes—a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the room.

Taehyung’s fingers stilled against the desk as he gave his final order.

"Get me the CCTV footage from the gala," he commanded, his voice sharp as a blade.

Yin gave a slight nod. "Understood."

"And I want our most trusted men to follow my father. No one else. Only those who know better than to cross us."

Yin gave a curt nod, his tone unwavering. "Understood, boss."

Yang, however, let out a low whistle, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. "Damn, boss," he mused, crossing his arms over his chest. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were actually worried about Miso."

Taehyung's jaw tensed. His fingers curled against the desk.

Yang, noticing the lack of immediate response, smirked. "I mean, caring for her? Keeping tabs on her? Making sure she’s safe? Sounds an awful lot like adoration to me." His tone was teasing, but his eyes were sharp, watching for the reaction he expected—a cold denial, a glare, maybe even an insult.

Instead—

"You’re right," Taehyung said simply.

The words were quiet but firm, sending a ripple of shock through the room.

Yang blinked. His smirk faltered. "Wait, what?"

Taehyung finally looked up, his expression unreadable. "I am worried about her," he admitted, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous. "And I do care."

Yang’s mouth fell open slightly, his brain struggling to process what he had just heard. He turned to Yin, as if searching for confirmation that he hadn’t just imagined it—

And that’s when he saw it.

A smirk.

A subtle, knowing smirk pulling at the corner of Yin’s lips.

Yang almost choked on air. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "First, he admits it, and now you’re smiling? The hell is going on today? Am I in an alternate universe? Did I hit my head? Is there a hidden camera somewhere? Is this a prank?!"

Yin, unbothered as always, gave him a look of mild amusement but said nothing.

Taehyung, however, leaned back in his chair, eyeing Yang with mild disinterest. "Are you done?"

Yang let out an exaggerated breath, placing a hand over his chest. "I need a minute to recover, boss. You just dropped two world-shattering revelations on me back-to-back."

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Then take your minute outside. We’re done here."

Yang straightened, shaking his head as he muttered, "I swear, the universe is messing with me today." He cast one last look at Yin, who was still fighting back a smirk, and narrowed his eyes. "And you—what the hell is that on your face? Is that an expression? Did Taehyung breaking character shake you too?"

Yin’s smirk deepened just slightly. "Go do your job, Yang."

Yang groaned dramatically before turning on his heel. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, robot."

As the two exited the office, Taehyung let out a slow exhale, his gaze drifting back to the guest list. The feeling in his chest—unsettling, sharp, possessive—hadn’t faded.

Whoever his father was hiding, whatever secrets lay beneath that blank space—he would uncover them.

And as for Miso…

She is his.

Whether she realized it or not.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

Shadow & Silk was bathed in a low, golden glow, the rich scent of aged whiskey and faint traces of expensive cigars mingling in the air. The bar, exclusive and secluded, was a sanctuary for men who operated in the shadows—powerful figures who couldn’t afford the luxury of public mistakes. It was here, within the walls of this carefully curated refuge, that Taehyung’s closest circle gathered whenever the weight of their world demanded a meeting.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Taehyung stepped inside first, exuding quiet dominance in his black tailored suit. The dim lighting accentuated the sharp cut of his jaw, the flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. Behind him, his trusted men, Yin and Yang, followed closely—though even they couldn’t hide their surprise when Taehyung ordered them to accompany him to the private lounge.

This wasn’t how it usually went.

The moment they entered the VIP area, four familiar faces greeted them.

Jungkook sat comfortably with his whiskey glass in hand, swirling the amber liquid with lazy amusement. “Look who finally decided to show up.” His tone was teasing, but his gaze was sharp, assessing.

Seokjin, ever composed, leaned back against the plush leather couch, his arms crossed. “You’re late, Taehyung.”

Hoseok, his usual easy-going demeanor in place, grinned at the unexpected company. “And you brought company?” His gaze flickered to Yin and Yang, curiosity evident.

The private area of Shadow & Silk had an air of exclusivity, the dim lighting casting an intimate glow over the polished mahogany table where Taehyung and his closest allies sat. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses from the main bar area barely reached them, as the space was meant for confidential meetings—meetings like this one.

Jimin, lounging lazily in his seat, was midway through an exaggerated story when the door swung open. All eyes turned toward the entrance.

Namjoon stepped inside, his presence immediately commanding attention. Dressed in his usual sophisticated yet casual manner, his sharp gaze scanned the room. He expected to see the usual faces—Jungkook, Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok—alongside his younger brother, Taehyung.

What he didn’t expect were the two additional figures standing near Taehyung’s side, their expressions unreadable, their aura unmistakable.

Yin and Yang.

Namjoon halted for the briefest of moments, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the sight of Taehyung’s most trusted men standing among them. Unlike the others, who sat in a more relaxed posture, Yin and Yang stood with a distinct air of discipline, their presence exuding silent vigilance.

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” Namjoon finally remarked, his voice carrying mild surprise as he strode further into the room.

Yin, as always, remained impassive, merely offering a small nod of acknowledgment. Yang, on the other hand, smirked slightly, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Neither did we,” Yang quipped. “But apparently, tonight’s full of surprises.”

Namjoon’s brow lifted at the remark, his gaze shifting toward Taehyung. “What’s this about?”

Taehyung, leaning back in his chair, met Namjoon’s gaze with his usual composed expression. “I called everyone here for a reason. Including them.”

That made Namjoon’s brows furrow further. It was unusual. Typically, Taehyung operated on a strict separation between his trusted friends and his more… discreet men. Yin and Yang were always in the shadows, never in gatherings like these.

He took a seat next to Seokjin, still eyeing Taehyung. “This must be serious.”

Jimin, ever the one to break tension, leaned back and smirked. “Or maybe Taehyung just wanted bodyguards for the night?” he teased, glancing at Yin and Yang. “Gotta make sure no one spills a drink on him, huh?”

Taehyung shot Jimin a warning glare. “Not the time.”

Namjoon sighed. “Jimin, let’s not joke around. If Taehyung brought them here, then it’s obviously something important.”

Jimin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Seokjin, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, turned back to Taehyung. “Alright then, spill. What’s going on?”

Namjoon leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. “And why are Yin and Yang here this time?”

Yang smirked again, tilting his head slightly. “Feeling left out, Hyung?”

Namjoon shot him a dry look. “I’d just like to know what the hell is going on.”

Taehyung exhaled, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink. His gaze swept over the room before he finally spoke.

“This is about Miso.”

At that, the atmosphere shifted. The teasing stopped. The air became heavier. Everyone had seen what had happened at the gala. They knew something was wrong, but no one had the full picture.

Namjoon’s jaw tightened. “Go on.”

Taehyung didn’t bother with preamble. His voice was measured, controlled. “You all know what happened at the gala.”

A beat of silence. They did.

Seokjin was the first to break it. “We know what happened.” His sharp eyes narrowed. “But we don’t know why it happened.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. “It wasn’t a coincidence. Miso didn’t just slip like that for no reason.” His fingers tapped once against the table before stilling. “It happened because of a man.”

Jungkook’s brow lifted. “A man?”

Taehyung nodded. “Someone from her past. And that very man is the one my father personally invited to the gala.”

The revelation settled like ice in the room.

Namjoon exhaled sharply. “Our father invited him?”

“Yes. And the most interesting part?” Taehyung’s voice dropped a fraction lower. “There’s nothing on him. No records, no paper trail. He wasn’t even caught on the gala’s CCTV footage.”

That made everyone pause.

Namjoon frowned. “That’s not possible.”

“And yet, here we are,” Taehyung replied.

The weight of the situation was undeniable now.

Seokjin leaned forward, his expression unreadable. “So, what do you need from us?”

Taehyung’s gaze swept over each of them, assessing. “I trust no one outside of this room when it comes to Miso’s safety. I need to know everything about that man—who he is, why he’s here, and why my father wanted him there.” His voice turned steely. “I want him found.”

Namjoon leaned back, considering the weight of the request. “Why not just ask Miso herself?”

Jungkook scoffed before Taehyung could respond. “Yeah, as if she’d tell him.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Miso isn’t exactly the ‘let’s talk about my past trauma’ type.”

Taehyung shot him a look that could freeze hell.

Jungkook only grinned. “What? I’m not wrong.”

Taehyung ignored him. “Yin, Yang,” he addressed his men, his voice leaving no room for argument. “From now on, you’ll monitor Miso at all times. If she feels threatened or if anything suspicious happens around her, I want to know immediately.”

Jimin smirked. “Protecting your wife, huh?”

“Doing my job,” Taehyung corrected coolly.

Yin gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

The low hum of conversation filled the private lounge of Shadow & Silk, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and quiet tension. The dim lighting cast shadows across the faces of Taehyung and his closest confidants as they absorbed the weight of his words.

Taehyung’s presence was commanding, even in silence. He had just ordered Yin and Yang to watch over Miso, to ensure she was never left alone, never left vulnerable. The room sat in stunned silence, his decision heavier than his usual calculated commands.

Yang, always the one to break the ice, leaned back against the couch, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Damn, boss. This is new. You’ve never been this involved with anyone before.” He tilted his head, studying Taehyung with curiosity. “Not even when things were personal.”

Taehyung met his gaze head-on. “And?” His voice was steady, unaffected.

Yang’s smirk widened slightly. “And nothing. Just an observation.”

Taehyung didn’t reply, but the way his fingers tightened subtly around the glass in his hand didn’t go unnoticed.

Jungkook, always quick to pick up on shifts in the atmosphere, raised a brow. “You’re really going all out for her, huh?” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I mean, Yin and Yang shadowing her 24/7? You sure she won’t stab you for that?”

Taehyung shot him a withering look. “She can try.”

Seokjin chuckled. “It’s not the worst idea, though. If something happened once, it can happen again. Better safe than sorry.”

Yin, usually quiet, finally spoke. His tone was calm but firm. “We’ll handle it.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers tapping idly against the rim of his whiskey glass. His gaze was sharp, calculating, as he addressed Yin and Yang.

“Also I want a deep background check on Min Yoongi,” he said coolly.

The room fell silent for a brief moment. It was Hoseok who reacted first, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned forward. “Wait, what?” He looked genuinely confused. “Yoongi? Why the hell would you need to do that?”

Taehyung didn’t flinch. “I don’t trust people that easily.”

Hoseok scoffed. “Yoongi isn’t just some random guy. He’s Miso’s best friend. The only person she trusts completely.” He folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head. “What could you possibly find on him that Miso wouldn’t already know?”

Taehyung’s jaw tensed slightly, but before he could respond, Jungkook smirked, an all-too-knowing look in his eyes. “Ohh,” he hummed, tilting his head as if realization had just dawned on him. “Wait a second—this isn’t about trust, is it?”

Jimin’s grin spread like wildfire. “Oh, it so isn’t.” He turned to Seokjin, nudging him with his elbow. “Hyung, you catching this?”

Seokjin, already smirking, nodded. “Loud and clear.” He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes flicking to Taehyung with amusement. “He’s pissed because Yoongi and Miso were awfully close at the gala. And she looked happy with him. Really happy.”

Taehyung shot him a deadly glare, but it was too late.

Hoseok, catching on, grinned. “Oh yeah, he did look kinda pissed watching her dance with Yoongi.”

Jungkook smirked. “I’d say murderous is the right word.”

Yang leaned back, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “Damn. Must’ve stung, huh, boss?”

Jimin burst out laughing. “Holy shit, this is priceless. Kim Taehyung, the cold, untouchable mafia king, is actually jealous?”

Taehyung’s grip on his glass tightened ever so slightly. His expression remained unreadable, but the slight tick in his jaw didn’t go unnoticed.

“Say one more word,” he warned, voice dropping dangerously low.

Naturally, that only encouraged them.

Jungkook grinned. “Oh come on, hyung. We’re just saying—”

“I’m not jealous,” Taehyung cut in sharply.

“Uh-huh.” Seokjin gave him a pointed look. “That’s why you’ve been brooding all night, ordered an unnecessary background check on Yoongi, and made sure Yin and Yang stick to Miso like glue from now on?”

“I’d call that being possessive,” Namjoon muttered under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Taehyung shot him a withering glare, and Namjoon immediately looked away, trying—and failing—to suppress his grin.

Jimin wiped fake tears from his eyes. “This is honestly the best thing that’s happened all week. I should’ve recorded this.”

Hoseok shook his head, still grinning. “I can’t believe this. You, of all people, getting jealous over Miso.” He chuckled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I knew something was up, but I didn’t think you’d actually admit it this fast.”

“I didn’t admit anything,” Taehyung said flatly.

Jungkook snickered. “You didn’t deny it either.”

The room erupted into laughter again, much to Taehyung’s increasing irritation. He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair before fixing them all with a deadpan look.

“Are you all finished?”

Jimin grinned. “Not even close.”

Seokjin nodded. “We could go on all night, honestly.”

The teasing continued, but beneath the humor, they all knew one thing—this wasn’t just about security.

After a while, when the teasing was over , Namjoon said that “Everything else is fine but Miso trusts  Yoongi and this is the main thing.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable. His voice was calm yet firm when he spoke.

“I don’t care if Miso trusts him,” he stated coldly. “I don’t.”

The statement hung in the air, making the atmosphere shift.

Hoseok furrowed his brows. “Taehyung, come on. Yoongi’s been her best friend for years. If there was something to worry about, don’t you think she’d know?”

Taehyung’s gaze was sharp, unwavering. “That’s the problem,” he replied. “She trusts too easily when it comes to him. I won’t make that mistake.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. “So what exactly are you expecting to find?”

“Anything,” Taehyung answered simply. “Or nothing. Either way, I need to be sure.”

Hoseok scoffed, shaking his head. “This is ridiculous. Yoongi’s done nothing but stand by her side. He’s the one person who never left her. And yet you want to dig into his past?”

“I don’t take chances,” Taehyung said coolly.

Jungkook leaned back in his seat, grinning widely. “You’re just jealous.”

Hoseok, still somewhat skeptical, tilted his head. “Wait, wait, so all this paranoia about Yoongi is just… jealousy?”

Taehyung’s grip on his glass tightened. “It’s not jealousy.”

“Right,” Jungkook drawled, smirking. “And I’m the Pope.”

Yang grinned. “I mean, if you really don’t care, you’d let Yoongi and Miso spend more time together without interference.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “That’s not happening.”

Jungkook snickered. “And why not?”

Taehyung’s gaze darkened. “Because I don’t trust him.”

Jimin smirked. “Miso does.”

“I’m not Miso.”

Silence.

The weight of his words settled over the group. Taehyung wasn’t the kind of man to let personal feelings cloud his judgment—or at least, that’s what he told himself. But the sheer possessiveness in his tone, the way his voice sharpened when Yoongi’s name was mentioned, told a different story.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. “Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re gone.”

Jimin clapped his hands together. “Well, now that we’ve established that Taehyung has major jealousy issues, how about we get to the real reason we’re here?”

Namjoon, who had been silent for most of the conversation, finally spoke up. “For once, I agree. Jokes aside, we’re with you, Taehyung. Whatever you need.”

Taehyung gave a small nod. “Good.”

Jimin grinned. “But we are going to keep teasing you about this.”

Taehyung sighed, rubbing his temples as Jungkook and Yang burst into laughter. This was going to be a long night.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

As the conversation finally began to wind down, the weight of the night’s discussions settling over them, Namjoon stretched his arms and exhaled.

“Well, I think we’ve covered everything we needed to,” he said, glancing at the others. “It’s getting late. We should head out.”

Jungkook nodded, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. “Yeah, I have an early morning tomorrow. I should—”

Before he could finish, Jimin raised a hand, cutting him off with an exaggerated gasp.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you all seriously planning to leave without drinking?” he asked, feigning offense.

Seokjin chuckled. “Jimin, you own this place. You can drink whenever you want.”

“That’s not the point,” Jimin scoffed, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “We rarely get the chance to sit together like this. It would be a crime to leave without at least a few drinks.”

Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. “He’s got a point.”

Namjoon sighed. “Jimin, some of us actually have work in the morning.”

“And some of us,” Jimin interjected, pointing at Taehyung, “have literally no excuse to skip out.”

At the mention of his name, Taehyung, who had already pushed back his chair slightly, glanced up from where he had been fixing the cuffs of his shirt.

“I do have an excuse,” he said coolly. “I need to leave.”

Jimin scoffed. “And go where?”

Taehyung didn’t answer immediately, simply standing up and adjusting his jacket. His sharp eyes flickered over to Yin and Yang, a silent command lingering in the air.

Yang, catching the hint, smirked. “Boss does have a habit of disappearing at random, huh?”

Taehyung ignored the remark and turned to Namjoon. “I’ll update you if anything new comes up.”

Namjoon nodded, but before Taehyung could take a step, Jimin grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Jimin said, his grip firm.

Taehyung shot him a glare. “Let go.”

Jimin grinned. “Not until you agree to stay for one drink.”

“Jimin.” Taehyung’s voice was laced with warning.

“Hyung, just let him go,” Jungkook said, though he was clearly amused. “You know how he is.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t let him go,” Jimin countered, crossing his arms. “He’s always running off. Always brooding somewhere, always acting like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. You’re staying, Taehyung. Just this once.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. He really didn’t have the patience for this.

“I don’t have time—”

“Make time,” Jimin cut in smoothly. “Unless you’re running off because you actually have somewhere else to be.”

Seokjin smirked. “Or maybe someone else to be with like his precious wife?”

That made everyone pause. Even Taehyung’s expression twitched for a second before he quickly masked it.

Jimin’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “You are in a hurry, huh?”

Hoseok whistled. “Must be important.”

Taehyung exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear—”

“One drink,” Jimin pressed again, raising a single finger. “Just one. And then you can run off to wherever—or whoever—you need to.”

The entire room was watching now, entertained by the rare sight of someone actually managing to keep Taehyung in place. Even Yin and Yang, normally silent, looked mildly amused.

Finally, after what felt like a full minute of staring Jimin down, Taehyung let out a slow, measured breath.

“Fine,” he muttered.

Jimin grinned, triumphant. “That’s the spirit.”

Seokjin clapped his hands together. “Alright, now we can drink.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Let’s see if we can actually get Taehyung to loosen up.”

Jungkook smirked. “Doubt it.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes but reluctantly sank back into his seat.

Jimin, looking far too pleased with himself, signaled the bartender. “Drinks on the house.”

-------

As the drinks were served, the table grew livelier, the weight of their previous discussion temporarily pushed aside by laughter and banter. Jimin, clearly enjoying the rare victory of keeping Taehyung in place, raised his glass with a smirk.

“To a successful mission,” he announced dramatically, “and to Taehyung finally staying put for once.”

Seokjin chuckled, clinking his glass against Jimin’s. “Truly a historic moment.”

Hoseok took a sip, grinning. “We should celebrate this day every year. ‘The Day Taehyung Didn’t Walk Away.’”

Jungkook snickered, leaning back in his chair. “I almost can’t believe it. What’s next? He starts smiling at us?”

Taehyung shot them all a glare before lifting his glass to take a drink, ignoring their teasing. But amidst all the clinking glasses and raised drinks, one remained untouched.

Yin sat calmly, his usual composed expression unchanging as he observed the others. He hadn’t so much as reached for his glass.

Jimin noticed immediately and nudged him. “What’s this? The great Yin not drinking with us?”

Yang smirked, swirling his drink lazily. “He’s got a job to do.”

Taehyung, without looking up, stated coolly, “He’s driving.”

Yin nodded in quiet confirmation. “Someone has to be responsible.”

Jungkook laughed. “For once, I agree. Knowing Jimin, he’d get us all drunk and forget we even had cars.”

Jimin scoffed, feigning offense. “Excuse you, I’m a perfectly responsible bar owner.”

Hoseok raised a brow. “Right. That’s why you nearly got Taehyung drunk last time.”

Seokjin smirked. “And why you still owe me for the mess you made when you tried to bartend while tipsy.”

Jimin waved them off. “Details, details.”

Taehyung, setting his glass down, glanced at Yin. “Stay sober. I’ll need you sharp.”

“As always,” Yin replied smoothly.

Jimin sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, let him be the responsible one. But the rest of us? We’re drinking.”

The night carried on with laughter and conversation, and while Yin remained the ever-silent observer, his presence—calm, steady, and unwavering—was exactly why Taehyung trusted him the most.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

T

he dim golden glow of Shadow & Silk’s private lounge had long turned into a haze of laughter, clinking glasses, and heavy conversation. Taehyung had sworn—he’d stay for just one drink. That was the deal. That was the promise.

But reality?

He was gone. Completely, utterly drunk.

The once composed and cold mafia king was now lounging against the plush couch, an arm lazily draped over the backrest as he blinked sluggishly at the empty glass in his hand. His usually sharp eyes were hooded, his sleek suit slightly disheveled, and his lips parted as if contemplating something incredibly profound.

The plan was simple.

Taehyung had made it crystal clear—he would stay for one drink.

Nothing more.

But plans were fragile things, and tonight, his was about to shatter.

The lounge was dimly lit, the warm amber glow reflecting off half-empty glasses as the night stretched on. A faint hum of jazz played in the background, blending with the low murmurs and occasional bursts of laughter from the too relaxed group of men occupying the private booth.

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers loosely wrapped around his untouched glass of whiskey. He had no real intention of drinking tonight. He was only here because Jimin had practically blackmailed him into staying.

“Just one drink, Tae,” Jimin had insisted earlier. “You owe me.”

Taehyung had rolled his eyes but agreed. One drink.

But as he sat there, listening to the useless chatter of his so-called friends, his patience wore thin.

It started innocently enough—reminiscing about old days, sharing business updates, exchanging banter.

And then, the conversation shifted.

Miso’s name was brought up.

And so was Yoongi’s.

“Yoongi’s lucky, huh?” Seokjin mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Taehyung’s fingers twitched around his drink.

Jungkook smirked, leaning forward. “Miso actually likes him.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched.

“Not just likes him,” Hoseok chimed in with an amused grin. “She actually adore him.”

Jimin snorted. “Yeah, imagine that—Miso actually treating someone with kindness and not throwing daggers with her eyes.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Taehyung remained silent.

“Oh, come on,” Namjoon chuckled, shooting Taehyung a knowing glance. “We all saw how she was with him at the gala. She was all smiles.”

Jimin grinned. “And let’s not forget how closely she danced with him.”

Hoseok leaned in. “Miso barely lets you breathe in her presence, Taehyung. But with Yoongi? She was practically glowing.”

Taehyung’s grip on his glass tightened.

“She never even argues with him,” Jungkook added. “Meanwhile, with you—”

“—it’s a full-blown war,” Seokjin finished, laughing.

More laughter followed.

Taehyung’s patience snapped.

Without a word, he grabbed his glass and downed the whiskey in one gulp.

A satisfied murmur rose from the group.

“Oh?” Jimin smirked. “Tae’s drinking?”

Taehyung placed the empty glass down with a sharp clink, exhaling slowly through his nose. “You’re all idiots,” he muttered.

“But we’re right, aren’t we?” Hoseok teased.

Taehyung’s eye twitched.

Namjoon chuckled. “You hate it, don’t you? The way she looks at him?”

Jungkook grinned. “How she treats him so differently?”

Seokjin smirked. “The way she actually likes being around him?”

A muscle feathered in Taehyung’s jaw.

Jimin leaned closer. “Taehyung… you’re not jealous, are you?”

Taehyung scoffed. “Jealous? Of Yoongi?”

“Of the way Miso treats Yoongi.”

Taehyung exhaled harshly. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?”

“Oh, we do,” Hoseok said easily. “But watching this is way more entertaining.”

Taehyung glared.

And then—without thinking—he grabbed the bottle and poured himself another drink.

The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat.

The conversation, unfortunately, did not die down.

“You know,” Seokjin mused, “Miso might actually be good for Yoongi.”

Jungkook nodded. “They do have chemistry.”

“Great chemistry,” Jimin added.

“They understand each other,” Namjoon said.

“They compliment each other,” Hoseok grinned.

“They’d make a good couple, but what can they do now , she's this gyumpy's wife now” Seokjin smirked.

Something inside Taehyung snapped.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bottle and poured another drink.

A slow, amused smile stretched across Jimin’s lips. “I knew it.”

Taehyung ignored him, taking another long sip.

The burn of the alcohol dulled the irritation.

But it didn’t stop them.

“She’d never be that soft with hyung,” Jungkook mused.

“Yeah,” Hoseok smirked. “She might actually love Yoongi, but got stuck here.”

Taehyung slammed his glass down.

The table shook slightly at the impact.

The group stilled.

Taehyung exhaled slowly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he glared at the amber liquid in his glass.

Then—he poured another drink.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Taehyung—”

“Shut up,” Taehyung muttered, lifting the glass to his lips.

Jimin grinned. “And there it is.”

“Jealousy?” Jungkook asked.

“Denial,” Seokjin corrected.

Hoseok chuckled. “And a lot of whiskey.”

Taehyung ignored them, downing another shot.

The night stretched on.

And drink after drink, Taehyung’s mind turned hazy.

His sharp glare softened, his body sinking further into his seat.

The alcohol did its job—too well.

His surroundings blurred, his limbs heavy, his thoughts incoherent.

At some point, he stopped arguing.

He stopped glaring.

He just sat there, blinking lazily as the conversation around him continued.

Everything felt light.

Everything felt… warm.

And then—darkness.

✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿★✿

By the time the night ended, everyone was drunk.

Well—almost everyone.

Yin, being the only sober one, sighed as he took in the absolute mess in front of him.

Seokjin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin were all slumped over their seats, barely conscious.

Yin pinched the bridge of his nose before pulling out his phone, calling each of their drivers to come pick them up. One by one, their personal chauffeurs arrived, dragging them away in varying states of intoxication.

That just left Taehyung—who, unsurprisingly, was the worst of them all.

Yin sighed heavily, rubbing his temple.

“Boss,” he called out, gripping Taehyung’s arm. “Time to go home.”

Taehyung barely lifted his head, his glossy eyes blinking slowly.

“I don’t wanna,” he slurred.

Yin exhaled sharply. This was going to be hell.

“Yin…” he murmured, voice dragging as he turned to his ever-stoic right-hand man. “Who… who the hell said… one drink?”

Yin, the only sober man in the entire lounge, sighed. “You did, boss.”

“Lies.” Taehyung pointed an accusing finger at him, squinting. “I think… I think Jimin tricked me.”

Taehyung hummed, as if actually considering this betrayal. Then, he leaned back with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple. “I was deceived.”

Yang, who was slightly better than Taehyung but still a little unsteady, snorted. “Yeah, yeah, boss. You got so deceived.”

Taehyung sighed dramatically.“I’m a king, Yin.”

“Yes, boss.”

“And yet, I have no control over myself.”

“Yes, boss.”

Taehyung frowned. “You agree too easily. Suspicious.”

Yin pressed his lips together to keep from sighing for the hundredth time that night. This was not the Taehyung he was used to.

Yin is a patient man.

His job required it.

But tonight—his patience was hanging by a thread.

Taehyung was dead weight—all six feet of him, draped against Yin’s side like a lifeless sack of expensive fabric. His usually sharp, calculating eyes were hazy, unfocused, and barely open. His tie was askew, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, and his glossy black hair was a tousled mess.

Dragging a fully-grown, completely wasted Kim Taehyung toward the car was proving to be more difficult than infiltrating an enemy’s hideout. Which is proving to be a battle he hadn’t signed up for. And to make things worse—Yang, who was supposed to help, was only mildly tipsy and finding everything way too entertaining.

Yin sighed. “Boss, please walk.”

Taehyung hummed, blinking lazily. “Mmm?”

“Walk.”

Taehyung’s head lolled to the side. He grinned, eyes unfocused. “Yin… do you know… I have two feet?”

Yin deadpanned. “Yes, and I need you to use them.”

Taehyung chuckled. “So smart, Yin. So smart.”

Yin sighed deeply. “Boss, sooo move.”

Taehyung slumped against him, his entire weight pressing down on Yin’s shoulder. His head lolled to the side as he blinked up at him, confused. “Move…?”

“Yes,” Yin gritted out. “Put one foot in front of the other.”

Taehyung hummed, then wobbled. “Yin…” He lifted a hand, poking Yin’s cheek. “You have such a serious face.”

Yang snorted, crossing his arms. “You just noticed?”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed in deep thought. “No. But right now… It’s extra serious.” He tilted his head. “Are you mad at me?”

Yin took a deep breath, resisting the urge to drop him. “No, Boss.”

Taehyung pouted. “You sound mad.”

“I am mad,” Yin muttered.

Yang laughed, stepping closer. “Come on, Boss. We gotta get you to the car.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Car?” He turned dramatically to Yin, gripping his jacket. “Are you kidnapping me?”

Yang burst out laughing.

Yin’s eye twitched. “Boss, you’re going home.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes, swaying slightly. “I don’t… trust you.”

Yang wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Damn, Boss, you don’t trust Yin? That hurts.”

Taehyung pointed a wobbly finger at Yin. “He wants me… to leave.”

Yin let out a long-suffering sigh. “You wanted to leave.”

Taehyung blinked, looking genuinely surprised. “I did?”

Yang smirked. “Yeah, Boss. You said one drink.”

Taehyung gasped dramatically. “Did I lie?”

“Yes.” Yin deadpanned.

Taehyung’s mouth fell open. “Oh no.”

Yang doubled over laughing.

Yin pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are going.”

Taehyung’s gaze was locked on the exit. His fingers tightened around Yin’s sleeve. “I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Yin stared at him, dumbfounded. “Walk?”

Taehyung nodded solemnly. “It’s a big step.”

Yang choked on his laughter.

Yin clenched his jaw. This is my boss. This is my boss. This is my boss.

He took a deep breath, then yanked Taehyung forward.

Taehyung yelped, stumbling. “Yin, you traitor!”

Yin ignored him and gritted his teeth.

It had started fine. After calling all the others’ drivers and making sure they were being escorted home, Yin had turned his attention to his most difficult task—getting Taehyung out of the damn lounge.

And that was when hell began.

“Boss, get up.”

Taehyung again slumped further into the couch, his long legs sprawled out. “Mmmm… comfy.”

Yin exhaled slowly. “Taehyung, stand up.”

Taehyung cracked one eye open. “Did you just call me Taehyung?”

Yin stiffened.

Taehyung gasped dramatically. “You never do that. You always say ‘Boss’.” He pouted. “Do you… not respect me anymore?”

Yin closed his eyes. Breathe.

“I do, Boss. Now stand up.”

Taehyung huffed, mumbling something under his breath. But then, miraculously, he made an effort.

Only to sway violently the moment he did.

Yin grabbed his arm—just in time to stop him from toppling over.

Taehyung laughed, resting his forehead on Yin’s shoulder. “Oops.”

Yin sighed.

The exit wasn’t far.

But to Yin, it felt like miles.

Taehyung refused to walk straight.

At one point, he completely stopped and frowned at the floor.

“Boss?” Yin prompted.

Taehyung tilted his head. “It’s moving.”

Yin glanced down. “It’s not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

Taehyung lifted his foot hesitantly. “If I step… will I fall into another dimension?”

Yin closed his eyes. He was not getting paid enough for this.

“You won’t,” he said, voice tight.

Taehyung nodded slowly. Then, suddenly—

He grabbed Yin’s arm with both hands.

Yin blinked. “What are you—?”

“If I go, you go with me.”

“…I’m going to throw you in the car.”

Taehyung giggled.

By the time they reached the exit, Yin was already drained.

But fate wasn’t done torturing him.

Because just as they stepped outside—Taehyung stopped again.

Yin turned, his patience hanging by a thread. “Boss—”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide. He grabbed Yin’s sleeve. “The air.”

Yin’s brow twitched. “…What?”

“The air.” Taehyung took a deep breath, then exhaled with a dreamy sigh. “So fresh.”

Yin clenched his jaw. “We are in the middle of Seoul. The air is not fresh.”

Taehyung gasped, gripping Yin’s shoulders. “Then why does it feel fresh?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

Taehyung blinked. “Oh.”

Yin exhaled sharply. “Keep walking.”

Somehow, after an eternity of Taehyung either pausing to admire the streetlights or laughing at nothing, they finally reached the car.

But Yin’s victory was short-lived.

Yin opened the back door. “Get in.”

Taehyung blinked at the car.

Then at Yin.

Then back at the car.

Yin narrowed his eyes. “Boss.”

Taehyung pointed at the backseat. “Who’s in there?”

Yin’s patience snapped. “No one.”

Taehyung gasped. “A ghost?”

Somehow Yin managed to make taehyung believe there is no ghost inside. But,Taehyung stopped again.

Yin’s patience snapped. “What now?!”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide as he looked up at the night sky.

“…The stars.”

Yin exhaled slowly.

Yang wiped a tear. “Oh, this is golden.”

Taehyung turned to Yin, his expression completely serious. “Do you ever think about how small we are?”

Yin gritted his teeth. “Boss—”

“Like… the universe is so big, Yin.” Taehyung’s voice was hushed, awed. “And we’re just… here.”

Yang hummed. “That’s deep.”

Yin’s patience was hanging by a thread. “Boss. Get. In. The. Car.”

Taehyung blinked. Then, he gasped.

“You’re sending me to another dimension?”

Yin’s eye twitched. “It’s your own damn car!”

Taehyung dramatically placed a hand on his chest. “But what if I never return?”

Yang howled with laughter.

Yin shoved him inside.

Taehyung yelped, flopping into the seat like a ragdoll.

Then—he giggled. “You’re so strong, Yin.”

Yin slammed the door shut and prayed for strength.

The car ride was mostly silent, save for Taehyung occasionally humming some tune he definitely made up.

When they finally reached the penthouse, Yin prepared himself for round two of struggling.

And he was right to do so.

Because the moment the car door opened, Taehyung refused to move.

Yin sighed, kneeling slightly. “Boss, we’re here.”

Taehyung turned his head dramatically. “Where?”

“Your penthouse.”

Taehyung gasped. “Magic.”

Yin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Come on.”

Taehyung squinted at him. “…Are you sure we’re not still in the car?”

Yin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Boss, I swear—”

With great difficulty, he managed to pull Taehyung out.

Then came the elevator struggle.

Taehyung leaned fully against him, humming to himself as they waited.

When the doors opened, Taehyung grinned.

“I like this metal box.”

“…It’s an elevator.”

“A magical metal box that goes up.”

“…It’s just an elevator.”

Taehyung gasped. “But Yin. It floats.”

Yin prayed for patience.

After what felt like forever, they finally reached the penthouse.

And that was when Yin realized—

He had one more battle left.

-------------

Yin struggled to keep Taehyung upright as they finally reached the penthouse. Yang, slightly tipsy but still somewhat in his senses, walked beside them, watching with mild amusement.

The moment Yin pushed the door open, the warm glow of the living room lights greeted them. The faint sound of the television echoed in the background.

Miso was lounging on the couch, one leg tucked under her as she absentmindedly watched the screen. She barely glanced up at first. But the moment she caught sight of the mess that was Taehyung—her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What the…” She muttered, placing the remote down.

Yin let out a tired sigh, dragging Taehyung inside.

Miso stood up, slowly approaching them. "What happened to him?" Her voice was laced with disbelief.

Yin was about to answer when Taehyung suddenly perked up at the sound of her voice. His head lifted, eyes blinking sluggishly as he grinned.

"Miso-ya..." he drawled, stretching out a hand toward her.

Miso froze.

Her eyes widened in shock as realization struck. "Wait—he's drunk?"

“Completely,” Yin deadpanned.

Miso stared at Taehyung like she had just seen a ghost. "Are you serious?"

Yin sighed again. "Dead serious."

Miso turned her gaze to Taehyung again, who was now trying to reach for her, his fingers grasping at the air.

“Miso…” Taehyung whined, his voice thick with drunken slur. “Come here.”

Miso jerked back, her lips parting in pure disbelief. “No way.”

She quickly turned to Yin. “How the hell did this happen?”

Yang, who was swaying slightly beside them, snickered. "Our dear boss had a little drink."

Miso’s jaw dropped. “Little?!” She scoffed, looking back at Taehyung. "He looks like he bathed in alcohol!"

Yin ran a hand down his face. "We tried to stop him."

Miso folded her arms. "Clearly, you failed."

Taehyung, completely oblivious to their conversation, let out a small hum. Then, as if remembering something, he turned his glassy-eyed gaze toward Yin.

"Yin," he pouted, voice soft. "You lied to me."

Yin sighed. “What now, Boss?”

“You said we were going home,” Taehyung mumbled, suddenly looking offended. "But you threw me in a blackhole."

Miso let out a short laugh, unable to believe what she was witnessing. "Oh my god. Is he always like this when drunk?"

Yang smirked. "It's our First time too seeing this side of him."

Miso shot him a look. “ Well, I didn’t even know he drink.”

Yang leaned against the wall, tilting his head lazily. “Well… he doesn’t.”

Miso’s brows shot up. “What?”

Yin nodded. “Boss doesn’t drink. At least, not usually.”

Miso turned back to Taehyung, who was now staring at her with the most pathetic, puppy-eyed look she had ever seen.

"Then why is he this drunk?!"

Yin exhaled deeply. "Because tonight, he did drink. A lot."

Miso gave him an unimpressed look. "No shit." She placed a hand on her hip. "You sure he isn’t alcohol intolerant?"

Yang chuckled. "Wouldn't be surprised."

Miso eyed Taehyung, who was now leaning more heavily against Yin, looking as if he was on the verge of falling asleep.

Then suddenly, as if on cue, Taehyung’s lips trembled—and he whimpered.

Miso’s eyes widened. "Did he just whimper?"

Yang cackled. "Oh, this is amazing."

Miso pressed a hand against her forehead, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this.” She let out a breath before turning to Yin. "So, what's the plan? Just dump him in bed and let him sleep it off?"

Yin shifted under Taehyung’s weight. “That was the plan.”

Taehyung suddenly whined again, shifting slightly. "Nooo," he murmured, his voice pitiful. "Don't take me away from Miso."

Miso’s mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

Yang howled with laughter.

Yin grimaced. “This is gonna be a long night.”

As Yin adjusted his grip on Taehyung, ready to drag him to his bedroom, the unexpected happened.

Taehyung suddenly turned toward Miso, his hazy gaze locking onto her. A small, lopsided smile curled on his lips before he lurched forward—arms wrapping around her in a surprisingly tight embrace.

Miso stiffened. "Wha—"

"Misooooo," Taehyung whined, burying his face into her shoulder like a clingy child.

Yin’s eyes widened in horror. “Boss—”

"Shhh," Taehyung shushed him dramatically, one finger clumsily pressing against Yin’s lips without even looking at him. "Don’t… talk."

Miso, utterly bewildered, tried to push him off. "Yah! Let go!"

"Nooooo," Taehyung mumbled, tightening his hold on her. "Don’t wanna."

Yin ran a frustrated hand down his face. "Boss, let go of Miso."

"No," Taehyung pouted, gripping onto her as if his life depended on it. “She’s mine.”

Miso let out an exasperated sigh. "Yours?! Since when?"

Taehyung suddenly lifted his head, blinking at her slowly before breaking into a lazy, goofy smile. "Since starting."

Yang, who was half-slumped against the wall, snickered. "Well, damn."

Yin ignored him, stepping forward. “Boss, let go. You need to sleep.”

But instead of listening, Taehyung turned and glared at him—his attempt at an intimidating expression ruined by the way his bottom lip jutted out.

"I don’t wanna sleep," he mumbled, his fingers gripping Miso’s shirt like a petulant child. “I wanna be with Miso.”

Miso rolled her eyes. "Oh, for god’s sake—"

Yin tried again. "Boss, you—"

"Why are you still here?" Taehyung cut him off with a dramatic huff. "Go away, Yin."

Yin deadpanned. "What?"

Taehyung nodded solemnly, swaying slightly. "Go. You’re ruining my moment with Miso.”

Miso blinked. "Your moment?"

Yang wheezed in the background.

Yin gritted his teeth. "Alright, that’s enough." He grabbed Taehyung’s arm, attempting to pry him off her. "Boss, let’s go."

But Taehyung let out an overdramatic gasp, clutching onto Miso tighter. "Noooo! You can’t take me!" He whined like a five-year-old, turning to Miso with the biggest puppy eyes. "Miso-yaaaa, tell him! I don’t wanna go!"

Miso pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

Yin let out a sharp breath, losing patience. "Fine, I’ll just take you to bed myself."

But the second Yin tried to grab him again, Taehyung flailed, almost knocking them both off balance. "No!" he shouted, pointing a wobbly finger at Yin. "Only Miso will put me to bed!"

Miso choked. "Excuse me?"

Yin looked ready to punch a wall. "Boss, stop being difficult."

Taehyung stomped his foot—completely missing the floor by an inch and nearly toppling over.

"I SAID NO!"

Yang had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. "This is gold."

Yin’s jaw ticked. "Miso." His voice was tight with frustration. "Can you please tell him to cooperate?"

Miso sighed, rubbing her temples before glaring at Taehyung. "Are you really going to make this a thing?"

Taehyung blinked at her—then grinned cheekily. "If it means I get to stay with you... yes."

Yin let out a murderous groan.

Miso eyed Taehyung, then Yin—before sighing in resignation. "Fine."

Yin stared at her. "Fine?"

"I’ll handle him," Miso muttered, already regretting it.

Yin hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Miso rolled her eyes. "I live with him, don’t I? I can handle one drunken night."

Yin looked at her, then at Taehyung—who was smiling at Miso like she hung the moon.

“…Alright.” Yin finally sighed. "If he gives you too much trouble, call me."

Miso waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Go."

Yin eyed Taehyung one last time before reluctantly heading toward the door.

As soon as it closed, Miso turned back to Taehyung—who was still hugging her, looking completely content.

She let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

Miso sighed, adjusting her grip as she tried to pry Taehyung’s arms off her.

"Come on, Taehyung, let’s get you to bed."

"Nooooo," Taehyung whined, nuzzling into her shoulder like a clingy puppy. "I don’t wanna go to bed. I wanna stay with you."

Miso rolled her eyes, struggling to keep him steady as he swayed like a rag doll. "You are staying with me. We live in the same place, remember?"

Taehyung gasped dramatically, lifting his head to stare at her. "Oh my god, you’re right." He blinked, his dazed expression suddenly softening as he smiled lazily. "Miso-ya, you’re so smart. Soooo pretty and smart."

Miso froze for a second before clearing her throat, ignoring the unexpected compliment. "Yes, yes, now let’s go."

Then, suddenly, his hands slid down her back, resting dangerously low. "Wait… are we living together, or are we living together?" His voice dropped, thick with suggestion.
Miso froze, feeling the heat crawl up her neck. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Miso smacked his shoulder. "You’re so funny when you’re drunk!"

"Nooo," he whined, his hands gripping her waist tighter. "I’m always like this… you just don’t give me a chance."

"Because you don’t deserve one!"

"Ouch," Taehyung pouted, pressing a hand to his heart. "That hurt. But you know what else hurts?"
Miso sighed. "What now?"

"The fact that you talk to Yoongi so sweetly and call him with sweet names but never me." His lips jutted out, eyes turning pitiful. "Do you like him more than me?"

Miso blinked at him. "Are you jealous?"

"Maybe," he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on her waist. "Or maybe I just want to hear you say my name like that… all soft and sweet… maybe even breathless."

Miso’s throat went dry. "Taehyung—"

"Mmm, say it again." His voice dropped into a low hum, mischievous and dripping with sin. "Taehyung… ah, I like it."

Miso’s face flamed. "You—!"

"Or…" He suddenly grinned, his thumbs caressing slow circles into her hips. "You could call me something else. Something cuter… sexier…"

Miso narrowed her eyes. "Like what?"

"Daddy?"

Miso choked. "OH MY GOD!"

Taehyung burst into drunken giggles, loving how flustered she looked. "Come on, just try it once. Just a little—"

"I AM NOT CALLING YOU THAT!"

"Aww, why not?" He tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk. "I bet it would sound so pretty coming from you… especially if you whispered it—"

"SHUT UP!" Miso slammed her hand over his mouth, face burning.
But Taehyung grinned against her palm, his tongue suddenly flicking out to lick it.

Miso yanked her hand away like she’d been burned. "WHAT THE HELL?!"
Taehyung giggled. "You taste sweet…"

"YOU’RE SO GROSS!"

"Mmm, but you like it." He winked, and Miso felt her soul leave her body.
"I DO NOT!"

"Liar," he hummed, suddenly leaning in even closer. "Your ears are red."

"THAT MEANS NOTHING!"

"Or it means… you’re thinking dirty things too."

"TAEHYUNG, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

She swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered, voice pleading. "Don’t leave me alone."

Miso’s chest tightened.
He looked so… vulnerable. So different from the cold, ruthless mafia king she knew.

Was this really just the alcohol talking?

Or was this the real Taehyung—hidden under years of walls and distance?

Her heart thudded as she sighed, finally relaxing in his arms. "Fine. But if you try anything, I will actually kill you."

Taehyung grinned, his eyes already drooping. "Mmm… I’d die happy then…"

________

What followed was a chaotic mess of Taehyung refusing to walk straight, swaying every few steps, and insisting on holding onto Miso because apparently, he’d “fall into a black hole” without her.

By the time she finally got him to sit, she was breathless. “You are the most difficult drunk person ever.”

Miso groaned as Taehyung clung to her like a sloth to a tree. His weight was practically crushing her, but he refused to let go.

"Taehyung, let go!" She tried to push him off, but he only tightened his grip, nuzzling into her neck.

"Mmm… you’re so soft…" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleepy drunkenness. "Like a fluffy little marshmallow…"

"I AM NOT A MARSHMALLOW!"

"But you’re all warm and smell nice," he hummed, inhaling deeply. "I wanna eat you—"

"WHAT?!" Miso froze, her face turning scarlet. "You wanna what?"

Taehyung giggled, his cheeks flushed as he grinned up at her. "Eat you. Like a snack. A tasty, little, Miso-flavored treat…"

"I swear to God—"

"Miso soup!" He suddenly gasped, like he just had the greatest realization of his life. "That’s what I’ll call you now!"

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT—"

"Aww, but you’re so soupy—"

"I WILL THROW YOU OFF THIS BED, KIM TAEHYUNG!"

Taehyung snorted, his grip loosening slightly. "You’re so cute when you yell at me…"

Miso groaned, rubbing her temples. "You’re insufferable."

"Mmm… but you like me."

Miso froze. "Excuse me?"

Taehyung grinned, his drunken confidence radiating. "You. Like. Me."

"I DO NOT!"

"You doooooo~" he sang, poking her cheek. "Why else would you be taking care of me? Hmmm?"

"Because if I don’t, you’ll probably die from stupidity."

"Awww," he pouted, "you do care."

"I don’t."

"You do~"

"I don’t—"

"You do~"

"Oh my God, shut up!"

Taehyung giggled like a little kid before suddenly snuggling into her chest. "Mmm… so comfy…"

Miso stiffened, her whole body overheating. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Shhh," he mumbled, burying his face deeper into her. "Just let me be. You’re like a warm pillow…"

"I AM NOT YOUR PILLOW!"

"Mmm… but you should be…" he hummed, his hands tightening around her waist. "I think I want you to be my pillow forever…"

"YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK!"

"Mmm… but you like me…"

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

Taehyung suddenly lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glazed as he looked at her with pure adoration. "Miso…"

She blinked. "…What?"

"You’re… so pretty…"

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"Like… insanely pretty." He sighed dreamily, cupping her face with his warm hands. "It’s not fair."

"What’s not fair?" she asked, gulping.

"That I’m this drunk," he pouted, "or else I’d be kissing you right now."

Miso choked. "WHAT—"

"Yeah," he nodded solemnly. "I’d probably kiss you so good, you’d forget how to breathe…"

"TAEHYUNG, GO TO SLEEP!"

"Not until you say I’m your favorite."

"WHAT?!"

"Say it," he insisted, his eyes narrowing. "Say I’m your favorite. Not Yoongi, not anyone else. ME."

"I—" Miso gritted her teeth. "Fine. You’re my favorite."

"Awww," he beamed, suddenly hugging her again. "I knew it!"

"Oh my God, I was lying—"

"Too late! You already said it!"

"YOU’RE SO—!"

"Mmm…" Taehyung hummed, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "You smell really good… like strawberries and vanilla… or is that just… you?"

Miso froze, her entire body betraying her as goosebumps crawled up her skin.

"Taehyung—"

"Mmm… say my name again…" he murmured, his voice husky and sleepy. "I love when you say my name…"

"Taehyung, you’re so drunk," she sighed, trying to push him away.

"Drunk on you," he whispered.

Miso’s soul left her body. "I CAN’T DO THIS—!"

Taehyung snickered, snuggling into her again. "Mmm… you’re so warm… stay with me tonight…"

Miso stared at him, her heartbeat wild. She just sigh.

This wasn’t the cold, ruthless Taehyung she was used to.

This was someone else entirely.

And maybe… just maybe…

She liked this version of him.

---

Miso sighed deeply as she finally managed to push Taehyung down onto the bed. "Stay here," she ordered, trying to sound firm, but the drunken mess in front of her had no intentions of listening.

"Mmm…" Taehyung pouted, his hands grabbing onto her wrist before she could pull away. "No leaving."

"Taehyung—"

"Stay." His voice was unusually soft, almost pleading. "Just for a little while. Until I sleep.…"

Miso hesitated.

This wasn’t the ruthless Taehyung she was used to—the man who always had a sharp tongue, cold stares, and an unreadable expression.

This was… different.

Vulnerable.

"Fine." She sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed. "Only for a bit."

"Good…" Taehyung mumbled, his eyes half-lidded as he stared at her. "You know… NO,Did I ever tell you that you’re really, really pretty…"

Miso’s heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"Like… so pretty it’s annoying," he muttered, his voice slurring slightly. "Your eyes… your lips… your everything…"

Her throat suddenly felt dry. "You’re just drunk."

"Mmm… Maybe," he grinned, "or maybe I just never had the courage to say it before."

Miso froze. "Taehyung—"

"And you know what else?" he continued, as if he didn’t hear her. "I like you best when you’re being your real self… when you’re not trying to act all tough."

Miso blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Your little space," he sighed, smiling lazily. "I love it. I love how you get all tiny and soft and cute. I love how your voice gets all high-pitched, and you cling onto me like I’m the only person in the world. I used to think it was ridiculous. Some childish thing. But now… now I think it’s the most precious thing about you.And I love it so much"

Her breath hitched. "You…"

"I love how you call me ‘daddy’ when you’re like that…" He suddenly grinned, his fingers tracing her wrist. "It makes my heart go all crazy. Well I'll not mind if you call me DADDY when you are normal" he smirked.

Miso felt like she was burning alive. "Taehyung, stop talking—"

"Why?" he pouted, his grip on her tightening. "Am I making you nervous?"

"No—!"

"You’re blushing," he noted, looking way too pleased. "That’s cute…"

"I AM NOT BLUSHING!"

"Mmm… Maybe I should make you blush more often…" His eyes darkened slightly as he suddenly leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart. "I bet you’d look even prettier if I kissed you…"

Miso’s breathing stopped. "Tae—"

"Maybe I should try it…" he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. "Just once… to see how it feels…"

Miso panicked. "You’re drunk—!"

Miso froze. "Taehyung—"

"You  know what’s crazy?" he continued, his voice suddenly softer. "You changed something in me, Miso."

Her breath hitched. "What are you talking about?"

Taehyung let out a sluggish, breathy chuckle, his head rolling against the pillow. "Before you, everything was… the same. Every day. Just work, power, control. Nothing else mattered."

Miso swallowed, feeling a strange tightness in her chest.

"But then you came along…" He exhaled, his words slow, like he was trying to piece together thoughts that even he didn’t fully understand. "And suddenly, I can’t think straight. I get irritated over the smallest things. I get jealous…"

Miso’s eyes widened. "Jealous?"

"Mmm…" He nodded, his gaze hazy but somehow intense. "When you smile at other people. When you talk to Yoongi like he's your favorite person in the world. When you act like… like I don’t exist."

Miso stared at him, completely stunned. She felt her pulse pound in her ears.

"I don’t know what you did to me, Miso…" Taehyung’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked at her with a dazed smile, his hand slowly reaching up to brush his fingers against her cheek. "But I think… I think I’m losing my mind over you."

Miso stopped breathing.

She stared at Taehyung, her heart still pounding from his drunken ramblings. She had tried convincing herself that it was just the alcohol, but something about the way he spoke—the softness in his voice, the raw honesty in his eyes—made her feel like he wasn’t just mumbling nonsense.

There was truth buried in his words.

And then, just as she was about to brush it off, Taehyung shifted slightly, his drunken body rolling closer to her, his heated breath fanning against her arm. His fingers twitching slightly before grasping onto the fabric of her shirt, as if he didn’t want her to move away.

"Miso…" His voice was low, slurred, but deeply laced with something undeniable.

Miso swallowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You need to sleep, Taehyung."

"No…" he mumbled, shaking his head, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes. "I need to tell you something…"

Miso’s breath hitched. "What is it?"

Taehyung exhaled, his lashes fluttering, his grip on her tightening for just a second before he loosened it again. His voice dipped to a whisper, a drunken murmur that sent a strange shiver down her spine.

"I think I finally figured it out…"

Miso frowned. "Figured what out?"

He licked his lips absentmindedly, his half-lidded gaze looking at her as if he was seeing something only he could understand.

"Why you drive me insane."

Miso’s breath caught. "Taehyung—"

"I used to think…" he continued, his voice sluggish but serious, "that emotions makes people weak. That it ruins them. Destroys them."

Miso stiffened.

His words were too raw, too unguarded for someone as calculating as Taehyung.

"But now…" he paused, his brows furrowing, as if his drunken mind was struggling to piece together the words.

Miso leaned in slightly, barely breathing. "Now what?"

Taehyung let out a slow, shaky exhale before his lips curled up into the softest, laziest smile.

"Now I think I… I think I lo—"

And then—

He stopped.

His sentence breaking off, his lips still parted but his words lost in the thick silence between them.

Miso froze.

"You… what?"

Taehyung blinked slowly, his eyes dazed, unfocused—

Was he—

Was he confessing?

Her lips parted, but before she could say anything, Taehyung suddenly giggled drunkenly and flopped back against the pillow. "Oops…" he mumbled, "I said too much, didn’t I?"

And then, before she could push him for more, before she could demand what the hell he was trying to say—

He slumped forward, his forehead bumping against her shoulder, his entire body relaxing against her.

His breathing evened out.

Miso stared at him, completely motionless.

Her mind was reeling.

Did he just—

Did he almost say he—

No.

No, it couldn’t be.

But then—

Why did it feel like her heart was trying to break free from her chest?

She swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of his weight against her, his body warm and heavy, his scent—a mix of expensive cologne and whiskey—lingering in the air between them.

Her hands shook slightly as she reached up, debating whether to push him away or just let him rest.

But even as she lay there, her mind spinning with questions—

One thought echoed louder than the rest.

What was he going to say?

And then, just when she thought he was finally  pass out, he mumbled one last thing—

Soft. Almost childish.

But it shattered something inside her.

"Miso…?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me…? Just for tonight…?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "I don’t wanna be alone."

Miso froze.

She should have said no.

She should have reminded herself that this was Taehyung. The man who is Mafia king . The man who didn’t believe in love.

But right now, in this moment, he wasn’t the ruthless mafia king.

He was just… a man.

A man who had unknowingly left her heart racing.

A man who had just confessed something she didn’t know if he’d even remember tomorrow.

And that thought alone made her chest ache.

So instead of pulling away, instead of giving him a cold response—

Miso stayed.

And she didn’t realize…

That her entire world had already begun to change.

_______________________________________

Hey lovely readers! Just a heads up, this will be the last update for a while as I’m diving deep into finishing my other book. 😅 I hope you all understand and don’t miss me too much! But don’t worry, I’ll be back with more drama, fluff, and, of course, Taehyung’s chaotic ways soon enough! Stay tuned and thanks for being so awesome! 💕

StarlitWings✨