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"You're not helping yourself, Jungkook." Eunwoo's voice was taut, barely reining in the frustration that had been simmering since he walked in.

Jungkook slouched in the metal chair like it was his living room couch, cuffs clinking softly as his hands rested loosely on his lap. His legs stretched out, the soles of his boots scraping across linoleum that had seen better days. He looked as though he had all the time in the world. The clock didn't tick any slower in a police station, but it sure felt like it.

He was good at that—playing unbothered when things were crumbling around him.

Across the table stood Eunwoo, not buying the nonchalance. Not for a second. The lawyer was as stiff as a wooden board, his suit jacket creaking like it was straining against his annoyance. The overhead light buzzed, harsh and unforgiving, but the only thing harsher was Eunwoo's tone.

"This isn't some back-alley hustle where you can flash a smile and walk away clean. You're in a box for murder. Get it through your head."

Jungkook didn't flinch, letting the lawyer's words bounce off him like rain off a coat.

Eunwoo can yell all he wants. The cops have nothing. They can't touch me. Not yet.

Eunwoo's patience cracked. "Yah, Jungkook! You think this is a game? They'll pin this on you if you don't give them something. Where the hell were you the night Michele disappeared?"

Jungkook let out a breath, finally looking at him. A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth—slow, deliberate. "You know I don't trust cops," he said, his voice low and casual, like none of this mattered. "Why would I tell them anything?"

Eunwoo's hands slammed onto the table. "Because if you don't, you'll be rotting in here while they build a case to bury you! They've got enough to make your life hell, and if you keep playing coy, they'll push 'til you snap."

Jungkook shrugged, the smirk glued in place. "Let them push. They've got 24 hours left. Then I'm out."

Eunwoo let out a long, exasperated sigh, fingers rubbing at the bridge of his nose like Jungkook was a migraine he couldn't shake. "You're not getting it. Sure, they'll let you walk, but you'll have a tail so far up your ass you'll feel it in your throat. Every move, watched. Is that what you want?"

Jungkook's smirk faltered slightly.

A tail?

His mind clicked into gear. It wasn't about stepping out of here—it was what came after. Sunday. The auction. Eyes on him now would burn the whole damn thing to the ground.

Shit.

He couldn't have them sniffing around, poking into things that had nothing to do with Michele. Getting to Degas was too big, too risky. If they caught wind of it, he wouldn't just be dodging a murder rap. They'd bury him under everything else.

No, I can't let that happen.

Eunwoo saw the shift and pounced on it like a shark scenting blood. "I'm not asking you to throw your cards down. Just play smart. Give them something—an alibi, whatever. If you don't, they'll start peeling back every layer you've got. And believe me, you don't want them sniffing around your business right now."

Jungkook leaned forward, eyes narrowing. The cracks were showing. "I can't have that."

"Exactly," Eunwoo said, softer now. "So?"

Jungkook sat back again, letting the cuffs clink softly as he shifted. "I've got an alibi. For both nights—Michele's disappearance and the night she was killed."

Eunwoo's eyes narrowed, studying him for a beat before nodding. "Alright. But if it doesn't hold, you're right back here."

"I know." Jungkook's voice was clipped, but his mind was already a million miles away, figuring out ways to spin this so the police wouldn't dig deeper.

Eunwoo straightened, fixing his suit jacket, and grabbed his briefcase. "I'll get it to them, but don't pull anything stupid while I'm gone."

Jungkook waved him off with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Yeah, yeah."

At the door, Eunwoo hesitated, casting a final look over his shoulder. "Stay smart."

"Give Tae heads up!" Jungkook called after the lawyer.

The door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the thick silence of the interrogation room. His foot tapped against the floor in an anxious rhythm. The tension in his chest didn't ease. He knew giving an alibi was the right call, but it didn't make him feel any better.

The clock was ticking, and Sunday wasn't far away.

Jungkook let out a breath, slow and sharp, like a balloon deflating against its will. His head sank into his hands, the cool metal of the cuffs biting at his wrists. He shut his eyes, wishing that would shut out everything else.

Michele. The upcoming auction. And that damned symbol of a tiger lily.

Everything was unraveling, slipping through his fingers faster than he could grasp it. Control? Gone. Every move forward felt like stepping off a ledge and landing deeper in quicksand.

His fists tightened, knuckles pressing against his eye sockets. Blocking out the room's fluorescent glare was easy. Blocking out the mess of thoughts? Not so much.

The image of the police board flashed in his mind again, the symbol standing out like a beacon next to Michele's picture. That tiger lily, once a bond of love, now felt like a threat.

Why was it there?

At first glance, it might have seemed insignificant—just another piece in the chaotic mess of evidence. But not to Jungkook. He knew that shape all too well.

It was something from his past that he'd buried six feet under. Something he thought he'd never see again.

His pulse ticked up. The cops didn't know what they had. They couldn't. But Jungkook did. That symbol wasn't just some random detail in Michele's case—it was a signal, a flare shot into the sky, telling him that this was bigger than that poor girl. Bigger than anything the police were chasing.

Hell, bigger than him.

Conspiracy? Maybe. The kind that gets people killed without even a footnote in the papers.

And now, it was circling him, the noose tightening. He didn't know how deep it went, but he could feel the edges of it closing in.

Damn it.

Jungkook's chest tightened, dread creeping in, but he shoved it down, like he always did. His fingers twitched, a nervous rhythm building under the cuffs. How the hell did that tiger lily end up on that board?

Was Michele involved, or was she just collateral damage in someone else's game? And why now? Why her?

Too many questions, each one uglier than the last, and every answer he could think of led to a place that reeked of blood and unfinished business. But he couldn't ignore it.

He was in a game of tug-of-war, caught between what he wanted to do and what he had to do. The truth was sitting right there. But revealing it?

Should he tell Vienna? She didn't seem like the kind of cop who'd toss him to the wolves without a second thought. But trusting her? No. Trust didn't come cheap in his world. He wasn't sure he had the currency for it. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when he didn't even know the full picture himself.

No way. I can't afford to talk, not yet. Not until I know more. Not until I can connect the dots without blowing everything up.

His foot tapped, the rhythm steady but tense, like a ticking bomb in his brain. He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, that cold light pouring down on him like judgment from above.

He needed answers. But more than that, he needed to keep his plan from unraveling with them.

The door creaked open, and Vienna stepped in, a laptop cradled under her arm. Jungkook's pulse betrayed him, quickening before he could suppress it.

Dammit, JK. Pull it together.

He tilted his head, the smirk settling on his lips as naturally as breathing. "Movie date?"

Vienna didn't dignify the remark with more than a flat look. The laptop landed on the table with a dull thud. "Only if you're into surveillance footage."

Cute. She isn't here to play.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning back, arms still bound but his posture loose, like he was anywhere but an interrogation room. She opened the laptop with a quick flick, the screen bathing them in its pale glow. "Let's pick up where we left off," she said.

"Sure, but before we do..." His gaze dragged over her, the smirk growing. "What's your type?"

Vienna's fingers froze on the keyboard for a split second, but he caught it. "I don't know, Kook. Definitely not murder suspects," she shot back, her tone light but sharp.

"Ouch," he laughed, watching her reaction—or lack of one. "Suspect, huh? And here I thought we were just getting to know each other better."

Vienna raised an eyebrow, unamused but not rattled. Teasing her was the only weapon he had left, the only way he could keep her from seeing through him.

"Let's not waste time. Watch this." She spun the laptop toward him, the grainy footage from Layover flickering across the screen. Jungkook's face remained impassive as he watched himself talking to Michele.

"What'd you two talk about?" Vienna's voice was almost disinterested, but Jungkook knew better. She was waiting for the cracks.

"Asked if I could buy her a drink. She said she was enjoying girl time with her friend. I backed off."

That isn't a lie. I don't need to lie to her. Not yet, anyway.

"And what did you tell her here?" Vienna showed another clip—him at the bar, leaning in close to Michele, whispering something. Her shoulders tensed. Then she left, hurried, almost like she couldn't wait to escape.

Jungkook shrugged, settling back into his seat. "Let me tell you a story."

Vienna didn't even look up, but her fingers twitched. "No time for your stories."

Of course not.

"Come on, detective, it's a good one. So I meet this gorgeous woman at a club, things heat up, like they naturally do. Next thing I know, I'm at her place."

Vienna shot him a withering look. "I really don't want to hear about your sexcapades, Kook."

"Don't get jealous now, Freckles. It's all in the past," he teased, his voice low and playful.

Vienna didn't flinch. "You wish. Now wrap it up."

Jungkook shrugged, feigning innocence. "Husband comes home early. So, I'm out the window in nothing but my birthday suit. Naked as the day I was born, running down the street. Some sweet old lady spots me and calls the cops. You can imagine the rest."

Vienna blinked, unimpressed and clearly unwilling to let him derail the conversation.

"Charming," she deadpanned. "I guess that explains a lot about you. But let's get back to why you're really here." She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. "Michele Park. You still haven't given me a straight answer."

Jungkook's smirk didn't fade. "That's the point of the story. After that night? I stopped messing with married women. Michele? She had a ring."

"So what did you say to her?" Vienna pointed at the screen.

"I thought she was reconsidering that drink. Told her no thanks."

Vienna rolled her eyes. "Why did you leave right after her?"

The silence that followed wasn't an accident. He could feel her watching him, waiting for him to slip. His foot tapped against the table leg, betraying none of his thoughts but all of his nerves.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"I need my phone."

Vienna leaned back, crossing her arms. "This isn't a summer camp, Kook. You can't just ask for your phone."

His eyes met hers, the smirk fading as he swallowed hard. "I need it to prove my alibi."

That made her pause. "You have an alibi now?"

"Yeah," he said, more firmly than he felt, all traces of humor gone. "Call the woman who picked me up from Layover. She'll confirm it."

Vienna motioned to the officer outside the door. A few moments later, Jungkook's phone was placed on the table. He unlocked it, scrolling through his messages before sliding it toward her.

"Here," he said, pointing to the texts from the night in question. Vienna noted the woman's name and number and wrote them down.

Satisfied, she pocketed her notepad, then leaned forward again. "And what about last Tuesday? The night Michele was murdered?"

"Layover. Again. Ask Kim Taehyung. He'll back me up."

Vienna didn't react. Just watched him, the silence stretching into something almost unbearable. He didn't blink, but something softened in his chest.

She's so beautiful.

Finally, she stood, the scrape of her chair against the floor too loud in the sudden quiet.

"I'll make sure to get to the truth."

Jungkook's eyes followed her as she moved toward the door, his smirk replaced by something more thoughtful. "I'm not off the hook, am I?"

Vienna's lips curled into the smallest hint of a smile. "Not even close."

She turned and left without another word. For a moment, Jungkook sat still, staring at the empty space she'd just vacated. His foot tapped, faster now, his thoughts a swirl of frustration, attraction, curiosity, and a nagging sense of unease.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, eyes squinting up at the invasive light above.

If I slip up now, it won't just be my freedom at stake—it'll be everything I care about.

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A/n:
I'm sorry, my delulus, for taking
so long to write this chapter🥺
I hope it was a strong come back!
Don't forget to vote,
if you're enjoying the story! ⭐️

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