Amid the turmoil and tumult of battle, there may be seeming disorder and yet no real disorder at all; amid confusion and chaos, your array may be without head or tail, yet it will be proof against defeat.
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The Art of War
Sun Tzu

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No one ever really spoke about how fucking difficult it was to remain strong in the face of adversity.

Rather than elaborate on the mental - and sometimes physical - distress that often accompanied both courage and tenacity, many chose to glance over those hardships and solely focus on the uplifting end result. They would dole out sickeningly optimistic one-liners, promising that the hardest times bring the best opportunities or that trying circumstances build more resilient people. And sure, while those sentiments were beautiful and hopeful alike, they were also grossly unhelpful.

For people experiencing tough situations, hearing things will get better did absolutely nothing to make things better at that given moment. All it did was remind them of how fucked up everything was, of the pain that received no external validation from others. It left them feeling alone and defeated when all they wanted was to be heard.

What those people needed was someone to explain how agonizing it could be to find resilience; they needed to hear that it was no easy feat to fight back against the world that wronged them. They needed to be told that endurance was so much more than being strong-willed or persistent; it meant experiencing the misery and choosing to withstand it.

Sometimes, people just needed to know that it was really fucking difficult to remain strong in the face of adversity.

But that didn't mean it was impossible.

They could - would - discover an inner boldness that would help them embrace the storm, a grit that allowed them to chase each bolt of lightning and scream along with every boom of thunder. They would meet failure, inevitably, but would also find the will to stand up despite the chances of being struck right back down. They would learn that feeling weak did not constitute a lack of strength, that losing hope did not mean all hope was lost. And one day, they would defeat every obstacle in their path to the other side.

And if those brave people could sustain - if they could confront each trial and emerge victoriously - Taehyung could as well.

At least, that was what he told himself.

Quite honestly, he didn't know how much more he could bear. Watching Namjoon drag a begging Jungkook into that house tempted Taehyung to unleash his fury. It called up this terrible concoction of despair and rage and desperation that threatened to turn him into a vicious and vindictive animal. And he feared - fuck, he feared - that he was one step away from losing a piece of his humanity.

Because in Taehyung's case, failing to remain strong in a time like this meant forsaking every ounce of his control. And if he became unhinged, if he let his baser instincts rule his actions, his emotional vow of I'll see you soon could very well be the last words he ever said to Jungkook.

And he couldn't break that promise to his sweetheart.

He had to stay strong - to become an unyielding force - to fight his own temptation of burning everything and everyone to the ground. Only then would he be able to think clearly and get himself and Jungkook out of here alive.

But gone were the days of repressing his pain in order to build up that strength. No, Taehyung learned how damaging it was to ignore his suffocating anguish and deny his blinding anger. Those emotions were present and alive; pretending that they didn't exist made him susceptible to even more suffering. His only option was to embrace every uncomfortable and intense feeling, allowing them to fuel his determination rather than hold him back.

Acknowledging that pain would become his greatest advantage.

Understanding what he had to lose would drive him forward.

And finding his strength in the face of adversity would allow Taehyung to see his love again soon.

Once Jungkook had fully disappeared from sight, Taehyung did a quick study of the assailants surrounding the car. Outside of Jin - who he had mixed feelings about at this point - there were three rough-looking men just within range. Each sported outdated pistols and gruff demeanors, as well as modest clothing and a collection of angry cuts and scars. In short, they appeared to be hit-for-hires.

Jin, in comparison, seemed completely out of place with these guys. With his styled hair and a button-down shirt, he fit the stereotypical finance dude look more than the helping my husband with a kidnapping look. To further support this assessment, the gun he had tucked into his slacks - a Walther, by the looks of the grip - was sleek and shiny from disuse.

Given Taehyung's current positioning - uncuffed from the car door and only lightly grasped by Jin - he could easily slip the gun from the elder's waistband. In an instant, he could disengage the safety and turn the weapon on its owner, demanding both his and Jungkook's immediate release. However, he knew better than to attempt a move as risky as that, especially with unknown shooters and their untested loyalties.

So, resolving not to get prematurely shot, Taehyung didn't fight his captor's hold or do anything to aggravate the people around him. Instead, he turned his attention back to his family's house, silently appraising the nondescript two-story residence.

While he and his parents had moved from Daegu to the capital around five or so years ago - back when he was a wide-eyed, inexperienced eighteen-year-old - he never really lived in this house. He had enrolled in a renowned university right away, choosing to stay in the on-campus dorms for convenience and social purposes.

Mostly for social purposes.

His parents had never tried to guilt him over not living at the house; hell, they had rarely frequented it themselves. They had elected to live in a cozy apartment closer to company headquarters, a charming walkup with dated finishes and creaky floors. It hadn't been flashy or extravagantly adorned whatsoever; most of the furniture came from their simple Daegu house. But even still, it had been perfect for their small family.

It had been their true home.

But since his father was, in fact, a CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company, it had been essential to have a proper place to host guests. An interior design team had spent months decorating the house, decking out the space with ornate pieces of furniture, opulent fixtures, and stupidly expensive sculptures and paintings. It was the epitome of wealth and luxury, a home crafted to appeal to the rich and tenacious CEO of Korean National Oil and his pretentious family.

No one ever really understood that the Kims were anything but the cold-hearted, mean-spirited, and money-oriented assholes the industry believed they should be.

Anyway, it wasn't until Taehyung dumped Bogum that he'd finally moved into this house, just three or four months before the attack that launched years of hiding. Due to the number of threats circulating the Kim family, almost everyone had agreed that Taehyung and his mother should permanently live in this house. Not only was it far out from headquarters, but it was also equipped with state of the art technology and security features. Until the threats stopped, the house had been determined to be the safest place.

Taehyung had hated those initial months of lockdown. He had viewed the house as nothing but a prison cell, an isolated island with no forms of entertainment or social opportunities. And while he had never been alone - he had multiple security details swarming around at all times - he had never felt more lonely.

But that all had changed just one month before the first attack when his new bodyguard had entered his life. Everything had shifted when the very person who brought Taehyung back here today treated him like an actual human being . . . as something more than the son of a CEO and the heir to a fortune.

It seemed that he'd been fooled from the very beginning.

Before the thoughts of betrayal and deception could completely overtake Taehyung's mind, a harsh grip pulled him back to the present moment.

"Alright, Taehyung," Jin said neutrally, his fingers tightening around Taehyung's wrist. "Time to head inside."

Without resisting - realistically, Taehyung wasn't in a position to defend himself or take the offensive - he stepped out of the car and studied the elder's face. "Can you tell me where Namjoon brought Kook? I just . . . I'll feel a lot better if I know he isn't in the holding cell."

Jin kept quiet as he led them away from the car and the men circling it. Once they were out of earshot and closer to the house, Jin threw a glance back at Taehyung. "There's a holding cell? Wait. What even is a holding cell?"

In the house's finished basement, there was a cold and dark room designed to detain any individuals that posed a threat to the current residents. To Taehyung's knowledge, the holding cell had only been utilized once. Years prior, a foreign businessman attempted to speak with his father's team in their local language. He had mispronounced a few essential syllables and unwittingly claimed he was in possession of a bomb.

"It's not important," Taehyung murmured, not wanting to elaborate and inadvertently give his captors any untoward ideas. "Can you just let me know where he is, Jin? I need to know he's okay."

They walked through a side door of the house, the very one that was broken into a few weeks ago. Two young-looking guys were hunched over the kitchen counter, though they barely spared Jin and Taehyung a glance as they walked through.

Once they reached the stairs, the elder lowered his voice and said, "Kook is in Namjoon's old bedroom. But you won't be able to go to him, Taehyung. They're posting guards outside both of your rooms at all hours."

Taehyung figured as much, but he didn't dwell on that fact. Because as they ascended the stairs, a heavy realization settled over his shoulders and he suddenly didn't know what to think. "I . . . You're bringing me upstairs. Where all the bedrooms are."

"Yeah . . ." Jin agreed slowly, his lips turning down at the corners. He appeared to mull that over for a second before his eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh, right. I keep forgetting this is your house, to be honest. But yeah, you're probably wondering why they'd keep you in a room that locks from the inside. Bogum and his team didn't exactly agree with that call, but Namjoon was adamant and -"

"Namjoon decided to keep Kook and me in these rooms?" Taehyung interrupted with raised eyebrows, his stomach twisting with confusion. "Namjoon?"

They arrived at Taehyung's old bedroom then, an elegant and posh room fashioned for the conceited socialite everyone once expected him to be. All the fixings were in shades of slate, black, and grey, from the thick carpet to the bedding to the paneled walls. Leather chairs and benches were artistically positioned, accompanied by heavy wooden furniture. And hung just above the massive bed were large black-and-white photographs of places he never had the opportunity to visit. There were little to no personal touches; there was no sign of Taehyung.

Jin did a quick sweep of the space, glancing around to ensure no one loitered behind the bureau or under the bed. Once he was satisfied with his findings, he signaled for Taehyung to step inside. "Lock the door behind me, Taehyung."

"But you didn't answer my -"

Jin stalked out of the room and closed the door before Taehyung could even finish his sentence.

For one second, two seconds, three . . . Taehyung remained frozen. A wave of heat fell over his body, making his skin sticky with sweat. There was also an urgent need to sit down, to let his suddenly weak legs rest, but his muscles were locked in place. He couldn't make sense of what was happening, but he knew one thing for sure:

Something was off.

Something about this entire situation was really fucking off.

He licked his unusually dry lips, staring at the door like it would start talking and fill him in on the missing pieces. When that occurrence ultimately failed, he sprung into action. He first twisted the lock on the door, jiggling the handle to ensure it wouldn't open. When that was confirmed, he did his own sweep of the room to search for both people and hidden cameras. There was no one else in here with him; however, he couldn't verify whether or not the space was bugged.

In an effort to protect himself as much as possible, Taehyung closed the heavy curtains and doused the room in darkness. If there were cameras positioned in places he couldn't see, this would at least help him move about a bit more inconspicuously. Of course, that preemptive planning would go to shit if there were cameras with a night vision mode, but he was doing everything imaginable to think ahead.

After allowing his eyes a moment to adjust to his dimmed surroundings, Taehyung carefully made his way to a full-length mirror mounted to the wall. The piece was stunning, sporting a thick golden frame with antique, Victorian-inspired carvings. The entire ornament seemed grotesquely heavy; to the unassuming spectator, the mirror would appear entirely unmovable.

But Taehyung knew better.

Crouching down on his knees, he ran his fingers beneath the bottom part of the frame. They smoothed over two slender slide bolts, which he promptly unlatched before rising to his full height. He was thoroughly aware that this could be a trap; for all he knew, people could be waiting on the other side for him.

There was only one way to find out.

With a racing heart and shaky breathing, Taehyung swung the mirror to the side as if it was a pendulum. The piece was deceivingly lightweight, so he was able to move it without much hassle at all. And once it was pushed up and out of the way, a dark and narrow opening in the wall revealed itself to Taehyung.

It was the entrance to the intricate tunnel system that led out of the house.

It was also the entrance to the pathway that would lead Taehyung to Jungkook.

So the fact that Namjoon decided to keep them in these bedrooms made Taehyung pause. The former bodyguard wasn't stupid; by now, he had to realize what Taehyung and Jungkook meant to each other. He had to know that Taehyung would do anything within his power to find Jungkook. If Namjoon truly had bad intentions, he wouldn't have given the two boys easy access to each other.

He wouldn't have given them a way to escape.

And Taehyung knew this wasn't some happy coincidence . . . no, Namjoon was intimately familiar with these secret tunnels. The former bodyguard knew the ins and outs of this house better than anyone.

Taehyung had once made sure of it.

Years ago, right after Namjoon had been hired as his bodyguard, Taehyung made it his mission to befriend the older man. He had been in desperate need of someone genuine in his life, someone who viewed him as more than just a silly rich kid. Especially after he'd spent months with Bogum and his questionable group of acquaintances, he wanted someone to like him for him.

During those initial days of working together, Namjoon had operated in between a state of awkward professionalism and sincere congeniality. It had been evident to Taehyung that the bodyguard didn't quite know how to act; he wanted to do his job well but be liked at the same time. So, ever the logical thinker, Taehyung found a way to help Namjoon accomplish both things.

He introduced his bodyguard to the labyrinth of tunnels in the house, engaging in long games of hide-and-seek and tag. Not only had that allowed the bodyguard to learn the secret paths between rooms along with the emergency escape routes, but it also had given Taehyung a chance to have fun. And after just a few days of playing around and goofing off together, they had started to become friends.

Taehyung had developed a rich appreciation for his bodyguard and knew he could trust him with his life.

And he did . . . he had trusted Namjoon with his life. But he had also trusted him with his mother's life, with their wellbeing, and with their safety.

And now his mother was dead. Now, he was no longer safe.

Now, the man he thought was his friend turned out to be his enemy.

But if the former bodyguard was truly his enemy, why did he put Taehyung in this room? Why did he give him access to Jungkook and an escape route out? Why?

This could all be a perfectly crafted trap, a game made up by a mastermind to amuse himself.

Or . . .

Or this could be something that Taehyung couldn't even begin to understand.

Taehyung knew it wasn't worth puzzling over; trying to read into Namjoon's underlying motives would only waste time. Besides, he already decided on his next steps. If he had the chance to find Jungkook and bring them to safety, he had to take it. This might be his only opportunity, and he would not let it slip through his fingertips.

With one final glance over his shoulder, he slipped through the opening and stepped into the pitch-black tunnel. He paused for a moment, straining his ears in an attempt to pick up any out of place noises. When he determined it was as quiet as to be expected, he positioned the mirror back into its rightful place and descended down the path.

Unless one spent countless hours learning these tunnels, navigating through them without a flashlight would be next to impossible. There were multiple turns, stairways, and slopes, all of which led to different parts of the house. While only a handful of rooms had entrances to the concealed passages - all the bedrooms, the kitchen, and one spot in the basement - several dead-end routes led to observation areas. Through the use of two-way mirrors and vents, one would be able to see and listen in on various parts of the house.

But, luckily for Taehyung, he knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. Even though he hadn't been back to his house in over three years, his feet moved on autopilot, correctly remembering each twist and turn on his way to Namjoon's old room.

He was close . . . so close . . . to freeing his love.

Though as he rounded one last corner, his footsteps light and silent, he heard something utterly out of place: a low groan as someone walked into a wall.

In an instant, Taehyung ducked down, all but holding his breath as he listened for anything further. If given the chance, the smartest move would be to go back to his bedroom. Now that he realized others were familiar with the tunnels, it wasn't safe to meander about the darkened paths without a weapon.

However, turning back posed a different set of risks. The person could follow him back to his room, recognize who he was, and then tell Namjoon or Bogum about his trek throughout the tunnel. If that occurred, any future attempts to flee would immediately become futile.

Fuck.

He didn't know what to do.

But as he was weighing the pros and cons of each option, another thought crossed his mind. This person was near Namjoon's old bedroom . . . they were near Jungkook. What if they were on their way to hurt him?

Taehyung understood that the likelihood of that being the case was low; he really did. However, that didn't stop his heart rate from beating erratically or his breathing from becoming shallow and shaky. Any scenario that involved his sweetheart getting hurt was bound to unnerve his rational thinking to the point where he made ill-advised decisions.

But when it came down to it, Taehyung would always do whatever necessary to protect Jungkook.

Without further thought, he sprung up and barrelled forward. If he caught this person by surprise, he could knock them out and drag them far away from Namjoon's old bedroom. Then, as long as there weren't any other unforeseen obstacles, he could rescue his love and get them far away from here.

It was tough to gauge the proper distance and angle in the dark, but Taehyung ran ahead as fast as possible. He called up every bit of strength he possessed, that way, he could catch this unknown assailant completely off guard. Though just before he crashed into that other person, he heard a faint oh, shit that he immediately recognized.

But it was too late.

Taehyung slammed up against a muscled chest, his force so powerful that both of them went tumbling down. He landed on top of the person - of Jungkook - and gasped as his palms scraped against the cement floors. But before he could even register that pain, hands were pushing against his chest and legs were attempting to kick him in the stomach.

Jungkook, his sweetheart, was fighting back.

"Get off of me," Jungkook hissed, his tone low but steeped with fear. He clawed and kicked and twisted his body, doing everything to dislodge Taehyung.

A sudden knee to the ribs caused Taehyung to fall to the side, a surprised yelp falling from his lips. "Kook, it's me. Stop kicking!"

"Tae?" Jungkook stilled, his fingers loosening their grip and his movements becoming pliant. "Holy fuck, angel. Are you okay?"

"I was coming to rescue you," Taehyung replied, finally catching his breath and reaching out for the younger. "But I didn't expect to find anyone in here. Wait . . . How did you get into the tunnels?"

Jungkook clasped their hands together and helped pull Taehyung to his feet. "It was pure luck. I was pissed with Namjoon, so after he left me in his room, I started to trash his bookcase. There was this one book that wouldn't come out, and yeah . . . I didn't really think about staying put or not. I just wanted to find you."

"You could've gotten hurt," Taehyung said, stepping closer to his sweetheart and breathing in his comforting scent.

"I was more worried about you getting hurt."

Taehyung reached upwards, circling his arms around the younger's neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm going to get us out of here, okay? This will all be over soon."

A pair of warm hands settled over his hips as Jungkook nodded, his breath fanning across Taehyung's lips. They remained quiet, too caught up in holding the other to strategize or begin their escape from the house. It seemed they both needed this small reassurance, this physical proof that they were both alright and together once more. They were quite literally safe in each other's arms.

After another few seconds of silence, Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Taheyung's mouth. "I was terrified, you know. I thought . . . I thought this was it. That something would happen to one of us and I'd never see you again."

"I'll always find my way back to you, Kook. I promise. But we don't need to worry about that now, right? We're together and we're going to escape. We're going to be alright."

To emphasize his point, Taehyung eliminated the distance between their lips and tenderly kissed his sweetheart. Their mouths moved slowly - reverently - as they found strength in the other, the simple gesture bursting with love and adoration. And while the kiss lasted for no time at all, Taehyung was still out of breath by the end of it.

"You ready?" He asked as he took a step back, his hands smoothing down Jungkook's arms and taking hold of his wrists. "I'll lead us out."

"Do you think we'll run into anyone?" The younger questioned as they took a step forward, his words rich with concern.

Taehyung had no idea what waited for them in these tunnels. But instead of communicating that, he intertwined their fingers and squeezed. "Hopefully not. I guess it depends on whether or not these people thoroughly explored the house. Also depends on whether or not Namjoon told them."

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah," Taehyung affirmed, slowly and carefully leading them down the hall. If they continued past Namjoon's old bedroom, they would come across a fork in the tunnel. One path would lead towards a dead-end - an observation area near his father's study - while the other path would lead outside. "Namjoon knows about these tunnels, Kook. He knows them just as well as I do."

Jungkook's breathing faltered as that piece of information sunk in. "Then . . . Then why . . . I don't get it."

"I don't either. Namjoon didn't say anything when he brought you into the house, did he? Anything that would hint at why he chose to put us in these rooms?" If Taehyung could get just one clue, then maybe he would be able to figure out an inkling of what was really going on here.

But Jungkook hummed in dissent. "No. All he said was that you and I couldn't possibly love each other. And that everything he did and would do was because of how much he loved me and Jin."

Taehyung figured as much, but something about that assessment caught him off guard. "Why would he say that you and I couldn't love each other?"

"He said it was too soon. That we hadn't known each other long enough," the younger responded softly, aware of how much that would bother Taehyung. "But don't worry. I know how you and I feel about each other, and that's all that matters. I did try to educate him on what it means to love, though I really shouldn't have bothered. He isn't worth wasting my breath on."

"He's still your brother, Kook," Taehyung said, his lips tugging down at the corners. "You still want him to understand you. That's not something you can just stop doing. You love him, too."

They had only moved three or so meters down the tunnel, but they paused to face each other. It was still too dark to see, but the sentiment was not lost on either of them.

"I feel guilty for loving him," Jungkook admitted under his breath. "After all he's done . . . I can't forgive him for any of it, Tae. But you're right. I still love him and I hate myself for that."

Taehyung knew there was nothing he could say at the moment; there was nothing he could do to assure Jungkook that he wasn't a bad person for loving someone who did something bad. It was impossible to erase years of memories, to simply give up on a hero or a parental figure. There would always be that fleeting bit of hope and that tiny remnant of love.

"I don't hate you for loving him," Taehyung whispered, bringing their linked hands to his mouth so he could kiss each one of Jungkook's knuckles. "In fact, I love that you love so freely and honestly. I love that you have a strong faith in others. And I love that you always hold out hope."

The younger took a deep breath, inhaling long and slowly before pushing it out through his lips. "Thank you, angel. You mean the world to me. Fuck, I could go on and on about all of the reasons why I love you."

Taehyung chuckled as he placed one final kiss against Jungkook's hand. "And I'd love to hear them, trust me. But let's save that for when this is all over, yeah? I'd very much like us to get the hell out of here first."

"Deal."

With that, they carried on again, falling into a peaceful quiet and moving swiftly through the tunnel. Taehyung was hyperaware of everything around them - a random bang from inside the main rooms, the glimpse of Jungkook just outside of his peripheral, every scrape of their shoes against the concrete. He kept praying over and over and over again that they'd run into no trouble at all, that they'd make it to the exit without running into any unexpected people.

He wouldn't stop praying until they made it out of this house and into freedom.

They reached the fork in the tunnel under a minute later, with Taehyung pausing at the top of the staircase. It would be a difficult descent since they had no light to aid them, so they'd have to tread very cautiously. That, or perhaps go down in a sitting motion. Perhaps that would be the safest bet.

Before Taehyung could instruct Jungkook, however, something pricked at his ears. There was a muffled conversation trickling through the adjacent path - the dead-end that overlooked his father's study. And while his mind urged him to ignore it and to continue with their escape, each one of his bones demanded that he turn around.

"Tae?" Jungkook whispered from behind him, his fingers gripping Taehyung's shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Taehyung tactfully spun to face the younger and fit a palm over his mouth. "Follow me. But stay quiet. There are vents up ahead."

Jungkook nodded, stepping to the side so Taehyung could take them back the way they came.

This was most likely an idiotic move, of that Taehyung was well aware. He was wasting time by choosing to eavesdrop, spending precious seconds that he should be using to get Jungkook to safety. But he had difficulties ignoring the chills that had erupted along his spine; he couldn't neglect the prickling sensation at the base of his neck.

Some gut instinct was telling him he needed to overhear whatever conversation was taking place in that study.

They crept along the shadowy pathway until they reached the fork once more, then continued down the untraveled tunnel. And as they walked further down the dead-end - as it slowly got brighter and brighter - Taehyung's heart started slamming against his ribcage. He didn't know what they were about to witness; he couldn't begin to anticipate what was happening on the other side of the two-way mirror.

The voices became more and more clear as they got closer, the vent connected to his father's study allowing the conversation to flow through intelligibly. And at hearing those defined - and incredibly persistent - voices, Taehyung stiffened. He knew exactly who was speaking right now.

Judging by Jungkook's sharp intake of air, he did as well.

They came upon the two-way mirror then, a surveillance device that was reflective on one side and transparent on the other. From this vantage point, Taehyung and Jungkook could peer into the study without the room's inhabitants being none the wiser.

That meant, in short, they could listen in on Namjoon's and Bogum's exchange without being seen.

"I don't know why I let you convince me to keep them upstairs. It would've been far less effort to lock them in the basement," Bogum commented idly, leaning against the desk while his eyes bored into Namjoon.

"They might cooperate with us more if they're comfortable," Namjoon replied without hesitation, his hands clasped behind his back. Taehyung couldn't see his face, but judging by his rigid stance, he clearly wasn't at ease. "Besides, we have people standing outside of their doors. They're not going anywhere."

Bogum considered that for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. "They can't escape through the windows, right?"

"No. There aren't any other ways out."

It was a lie, obviously, seeing as both Taehyung and Jungkook were out of their rooms and scavenging through these tunnels. But . . . why? Why was Namjoon lying?

"Okay, then," Bogum replied, seemingly appeased by that information. "What's the status of your documents? Have you found them?"

"Not yet," Namjoon confided, his spine still unnaturally straight. The older male always had good posture, but this was a bit too extreme.

"Joonie . . ." Bogum started, his tone taking on a softer note, "we need to find and hide those. Your birth certificate and paternity test . . . they're proof."

The son of Golden Oil Corp.'s CEO looked down at his feet, studying his sleek and expensive loafers with rapt interest. He didn't elaborate after that; he appeared to be waiting on Namjoon to offer a solution.

Taehyung was all too familiar with this tactic. When the socialite wanted something - when he wanted something he wasn't currently getting - he made that other people's problems. He donned a disappointed and vexed look, not so subtly indicating that he was let down.

And the former bodyguard rose to the bait. "I already told you that I have Jin helping. As soon as he locates them, I'll hand them over for safekeeping."

Judging by the way Bogum rolled his eyes, he wasn't exactly pleased with that answer. "I wish you would just send him away. It's really not necessary for him to be hanging around at all times."

"He's my husband, Bogum. He's only trying to help me," Namjoon quickly retorted, a strong layer of annoyance coloring his tone.

"I know, but I . . . I'm only trying to do what's best for you. I want to take care of you, Joonie." Bogum's expression transformed from irate to vulnerable almost instantaneously. If he weren't so adamant about following his father into the oil business, he would've made a great actor.

"We've been over this so many times, Bogum. You don't need to take care of me. I have a husband and a family."

"A family? Your mother left you. Her husband doesn't give two shits about you. And as for your brother . . . or should I say brothers? Do they even know who your real father is?"

Namjoon clenched his hands together more tightly behind his back, the skin turning white over his knuckles. But whatever anger he harbored was devoid from his voice as he let another lie slip out. "No."

Bogum's lips quirked up into a small smile, almost as if he felt victorious. "Exactly. No. They don't know anything about you. You chose to lie to them both for years. And by the end of this . . . after everything you've done . . . they might not even want to be your family, Joon. But regardless of what happens, you'll always have me. You know that, right?"

Namjoon's hands finally unclasped as he turned on his heels, walking over to the mirror. Jungkook let out a little gasp but immediately pulled himself together after Taehyung nudged his shoulder in warning.

The former bodyguard came close to the mirror, studying his expression and frowning at his appraisal. Whether he was dissatisfied with his red-lined eyes or sunken cheeks - or maybe even the man beneath the layers of skin and sinew - Taehyung didn't know.

"Right," Namjoon finally said, his lips attempting to quirk up into a smile but ultimately failing, "I'll always have you."

Bogum straightened up from where he leaned on the desk, brushing off invisible specks of dust from his tailored suit. "Let's just focus on the present, hm? Get those documents for me, and we'll go from there."

"Fine." Namjoon finally stepped away from the mirror, turning his back on Taehyung and Jungkook once again. "Do we need to do anything further to secure the house?"

"No. Everyone from the neighbors to those Korean National Oil idiots thinks we're a part of the initial monitoring service that was hired to oversee the house. And with all the updates and logs we've fed them, they haven't questioned anything," Bogum explained, his well-manicured fingers brushing through his hair. "I modeled my approach after what you did with the forensic scientist. After Korean National Oil hired someone legitimate, we step in and control the situation from there."

Namjoon regarded the young socialite for a lengthy pause, simply standing there without adding additional commentary. But then, like he realized something profound, he let out a weary sigh. "Okay, then. I'm going to head out."

"Wait. I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

Bogum casually lifted a shoulder, shrugging like whatever he was about to suggest was no big deal at all. "Figure out what we're going to do with Taehyung and Jungkook. From the beginning, you said they would never know that I was helping you. Now, obviously, they know I'm helping you."

"They don't know anything," Namjoon was quick to say, his voice taking on a harsher inflection than before. "They think it's all me."

"Think it's all you? Joonie, it is all you. All of this was your idea. Not mine, not anyone else's, but yours."

Namjoon didn't try to argue or defend himself. No . . . his shoulders slumped forward and his head hung low.

He looked guilty.

Fuck.

Taehyung didn't realize that he had held out hope, that he secretly prayed that Namjoon wasn't the main culprit here. But now that that hope was pulverized, he recognized just how desperate he had been to hear that Namjoon was blackmailed into this. He had needed someone else to take the blame.

Because if there was no one else responsible for the attacks, the years of running and hiding, and for his mother's death . . .

That meant it really was Namjoon, the person Taehyung had looked up to and trusted more than anything.

The betrayal felt fresh all over again, like a hot knife was slicing through an open wound. He wanted to run, to get the hell away from here, but his feet were rooted to the ground. All he could do was stand there and stare, all while his mind replayed everything he'd experienced in agonizing detail.

The years away from his father, away from any semblance of normal life.

The constant urge to look over his shoulder.

The break-ins.

The attacks.

The murder.

"I know," Namjoon said finally, his hands coming up to press against his temples. "I know."

"I need you to fix it, Joonie," Bogum ordered lightly, approaching Namjoon and laying a tender hand over his shoulder. "Fix it before we call in for the ransom."

The former bodyguard stilled, either from the touch to his body or Bogum's demand. Or maybe both. "About that. The Chief knows I'm alive."

The socialite's face dropped at that particular concession. "He what? How?"

"He tried to get in contact with my brothers after we left Daegu. He suspected Jin was behind everything - that my husband was responsible for the things that I've done - and I wasn't going to let the Chief pin it all on someone innocent."

Bogum ran a hand over his face, the gesture deadly calm and controlled. When he looked up again, there was a steely glint to his eyes. "Fine. I'll call in someone for a favor, and we'll take care of the Chief before he can take care of you."

"No," Namjoon shot back, pushing Bogum away from him and stepping back. "No more getting rid of anyone. I don't want any more deaths."

"We've always done things your way and look how -"

"No, we haven't always done things my way. My way didn't involve bringing in an unknown and uncalled for hitman to a situation I had under full control. My way didn't involve an innocent woman getting shot and killed!"

Bogum marched right back up to Namjoon, using his slightly taller stature to stare down at him. "You know that wasn't planned and that we took care of that man. But come on, Joon. You weren't going to pull that off on your own. You couldn't stage a kidnapping unless there were someone there to supposedly kidnap both you and Taehyung. Kim's wife wouldn't have believed it for one second."

Jungkook clutched onto Taehyung at that, his breathing coming out in shallow pants. Taehyung, on the other hand, was eerily composed as he let all of this new information register. Quite honestly, he just didn't have the capacity to process any of it at the moment.

"I had it under control, Bogum," the former bodyguard snarled, not disengaging or putting space between his and the socialite's bodies. "I had it all planned out. Taehyung's mother would've thought something happened to us, and Taehyung himself would've never even known he was kidnapped. But you had to go and hire someone without telling me, and now that woman is dead. And that's on you."

"That was never my intention -"

"It doesn't matter what your intentions were. Nothing can change what happened, and I . . . Fuck. This wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want any of this."

A sinister laugh sounded from Bogum, the first sign of his control snapping. "You're such a liar. You did want this. You wanted this for years. You wanted this ever since that sorry excuse of a sperm donor - that asshole you refer to as your father - decided that you meant nothing to him. Remember that? You spent all those weeks waiting in his lobby, hoping to be seen by him. But he never wanted to see you. Not once. If I hadn't met you, you would've sat in that lobby for months. Years, even. So don't you dare lie to me and say you didn't want this, Joonie. This is all you've wanted."

Something in Namjoon deflated following those words and every ounce of fight left his body. He stumbled forward, his forehead coming to rest on Bogum's shoulder.

Bogum instantly brought his fingers to Namjoon's hair, lovingly carding through the strands and swiping them away from his face. "This was all you ever wanted, dimples. You wanted to spite your father, to make him lose everything he worked for. And you wanted a way to provide for your family, to earn your way towards financial freedom. Remember what you used to tell me? That you wanted to give your husband and brother the life they always deserved? You still want that, right?"

"I . . . I mean, of course, but I -"

"You planned everything for years, Joonie," Bogum reminded him yet again, his words deceivingly soft and gentle. "This was what you wanted, so see it through."

After a moment of silence, Namjoon nodded in agreement, all of his previous energy and will to resist nowhere to be found. "Okay. You're right."

"Of course, I am," Bogum smiled widely, his hands falling from the former bodyguard and finally letting go. "Now, go figure out a story for me and have it ready shortly. I want us to launch our discussions with the Chief sooner rather than later."

Bogum threw Namjoon one last look - a glance that ogled him from head to toe - before heading for the study's exit. He strolled with this overly confident air, like everything was working in his favor and going his way. That was always something that annoyed Taehyung; no matter the scenario, the socialite always acted liked he was invincible.

Before Bogum could step out of the room, Namjoon took two steps after him. "Where are you going?"

An amused hum left Bogum's throat as he paused at the doorway, his eyes darkening with a sickening form of lust. "It's been a while since I've had a word with my ex. I figure it might be fun to say hello."

The former bodyguard froze, his hands hanging in the air like he didn't know what to do with them. "Bogum, don't -"

"You take care of your unfinished business, and I'll take care of mine."

Bogum didn't wait for a response as he departed from the study, his stride purposeful as he presumably headed to see Taehyung. A brief pause later, Namjoon followed suit and left the room.

Taehyung and Jungkook remained quiet for a breath, both trying to understand what exactly they just witnessed. There was still so much information that needed to seep in and be processed, yet once again, neither of them had the time or capacity to do either of those things. But even still, they had to decide on what to do next.

And they had to do it quickly.

By Taehyung's estimation, his ex-boyfriend would already be at his bedroom, pounding at the door to let him in. He was never known to be a patient man, so when there was inevitably no answer, the socialite wouldn't hesitate to kick down the door.

And when that happened, when he realized Taehyung wasn't there . . .

A manhunt would ensue.

Bogum would order his men to search every crevice of the house, to keep their eyes watchful for the smallest of movements outside. It didn't help that it was early afternoon; the bright sun eliminated any opportunity to move under the cover of darkness. And with so many people being on high alert, it would be challenging to flee without being seen.

Fuck. Just as Taehyung feared would happen, he risked their chance of escaping all to eavesdrop, and now all hopes of leaving were gone at the moment. They would have to wait until later; they would have to time their departure so that no one would be looking for them.

"Tae, we need to go," Jungkook whispered into his ear, his words jumbling together with apparent anxiety. "If Bogum realizes you're missing -"

"He'll realize I'm missing any second now," Taehyung confirmed, pulling Jungkook back up the tunnel and in the direction of their bedrooms.

Jungkook seemed to understand that they weren't heading towards the exit. "Shouldn't we run, then? Shouldn't we leave?"

Taehyung led them through the dark path as fast as humanly possible, doing everything he could to not direct them into one of the cement walls. "The moment he realizes I'm not in that room, he's going to come looking for me. For you, too. And if that happens, there won't be an easy way out for us."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait until it's dark," Taehyung responded, rounding one final corner before reaching Namjoon's old bedroom. "Meet me right here at midnight. I'll come for you, and we'll reconvene. And until then . . . I want you to rest for me, okay, Kookie? Sleep. Eat, if they give you food. Because once we leave here, I don't know what will be waiting for us."

Jungkook's hands found Taehyung's waist, pulling him in for a fierce hug. "Will you be okay? I don't like the idea of leaving you alone with Bogum."

Taehyung returned the embrace, hugging his sweetheart with all his strength before pulling away. "And I don't like the idea of leaving you alone, period. But we'll both be alright. We have a plan."

He went to take a step back, but Jungkook was faster. The younger's fingers knitted into his hair, tugging him forward and slotting their mouths together. They kissed passionately in those few seconds, lips tangling and breaths mingling so effortlessly. All too soon, however, they were breaking apart, with Jungkook reopening the bookshelf and slipping back into the bedroom.

Taehyung waited until the entrance was sealed, waited until he could assure himself that his love was safe, and then blindly ran back to his own room. He could hear the incessant banging on the door even from inside the tunnels, as well as Bogum's low threats of what would happen if Taehyung didn't let him inside.

When he got back to his own room's entrance, Taehyung's fingers fumbled several times as he worked to push the mirror aside. His labored breathing and heaving chest made it difficult to practice steady, controlled movements, and he had to force himself to get it together. He needed to look as calm and collected as possible; without a doubt, it would raise questions if he appeared like he just ran a marathon.

After finally entering his bedroom and then relatching the mirror into place, Taehyung hurried to the windows and opened the curtains. Everything appeared positively normal and there were no signs of anything off.

Now, all Taehyung had to do was face the monster on the other side of the door.

"Kim Taehyung, I will give you five more seconds to open up. If you don't, I'll let Wang put as many bullets through the door as he wants," Bogum snarled loudly, loud thumps and whacks and slams punctuating his threats.

Taehyung stomped up to the door, unlocking it with ease before yanking it open. His eyes landed on his spiteful ex, and he willed as much venom and hatred into his gaze as possible.

"What the hell do you want, Bogum?" He barked out, planting his hands on either side of the door frame in an effort to come off as domineering.

Bogum ducked under his arms, strolling into the bedroom like it was his own. "It's been so long, Taehyungie. I missed you."

Taehyung held his ground, remaining in the doorway and choosing not to advance closer to his ex. "I'm not exactly in the mood to catch up. In case you forgot, I'm here against my will."

"I didn't bring you here," Bogum tutted, almost sounding like he was offended. "Your bodyguard brought you back to this house and roped me in with his plans. I'm just as much a victim as you are, Taehyungie."

"Please. You're no victim at all."

Bogum ignored the taunt, instead plopping down on the leather bench in front of Taehyung's bed. "How's your old man doing? Gearing up for the merger between our two companies?"

Taehyung eyed the socialite, trying to deduce exactly what his goals were here. If he was after information, he should already know that Taehyung knew next to nothing about his father's plans. Over the last few years of running and hiding, he didn't exactly have too many opportunities to talk business with his dad.

"I wouldn't know," he responded vaguely. Sure, he did know that Golden Oil and Korean National Oil talked about a merger for years - even before Taehyung was forced into fleeing from Seoul - but he didn't have a detailed recount of where that deal stood.

"That's too bad. The board, you know, is in the process of voting for which one of our fathers will retain the CEO position for the newly joined company. From what I've heard, it's been a heated debate."

While Taehyung had limited knowledge of the happenings of the two companies, he was familiar with this concept. When two companies merged, their leadership had to join as well. Oftentimes, rounds after rounds of voting would occur to decide which officers would maintain their responsibilities. Realistically speaking, a company couldn't effectively operate with two butting leaders - from a logistical standpoint, it made sense to choose one leader.

"I'm not sure how your father is going to fair in the vote, to be honest," Bogum continued, crossing his ankles together and folding his arms in front of his chest. "Stakeholders probably won't have too much confidence in a leader who can't even keep his own family safe."

Something clicked for Taehyung then. Obviously, he understood that Bogum was involved from a business perspective. The socialite wasn't the type to simply do something for another, even if he held a warped sense of affection for them. No, Bogum always looked out for himself and found ways to manipulate them to his advantage.

And this was his advantage.

Bogum wanted to take over for his father in the oil industry, though right now, his father's impending leadership was on the line. But if he could work to defame the opposing CEO - if he could help Namjoon accomplish his own twisted goals - then he could better secure his own future.

Taehyung still felt like he wasn't comprehending everything, but years of confusion were slowly clearing. The key players were making their intentions known. He could now confidently understand that Namjoon had it out for their father and that Bogum was using the former bodyguard to accomplish his own shady ambitions.

Shit, Taehyung had to tread carefully now. If he came across as knowing too much, he risked both his and Jungkook's safety. He had to play dumb, to ask stupid questions to stroke Bogum's ego, and maybe then . . . Maybe then he could get more answers.

Right. Okay. That was a good plan.

But before he could start to ask those questions, before he could put that plan into play, a loud thump sounded from just on the other side of the wall.

It came from just behind the mirror to the tunnels.

Jungkook.

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》 V A L E N W R I T I N G 《

I feel like I should bring that theories section back! A lot of new information was revealed in this chapter - what are our thoughts?

I've never had the opportunity to write characters like Namjoon or Bogum before . . . ones with so many layers, so many complicated entanglements. It's been such a fun challenge to explore them more and dive deeper into their psyches. How do we feel about them? I'll have a lot to say about these characters down the road, but for now, I'll keep my mouth shut!

I have a hard time believing how much has happened in this story! It's been such a wild adventure. I'm so lucky that I've been able to share it all with you - i can't explain how much your involvement and support has meant to me. I hope you all have been enjoying No Going Back as much as I have loved writing it!