Y/n’s Perspective —

I sit quietly in the sterile white hospital room, the scent of antiseptics thick in the air I breathe. My mind swirls with questions. Was everything the intriguer told me true? Or was he just spouting nonsense? But how did he know about Jungkook's late girlfriend?

I should talk to Jungkook—ask him to be honest with me. But… what if he thinks I don't trust him? Why am I stuck in this mess?

“Honey,” Jungkook's voice cuts through my thoughts as he enters the room, a plate of fresh toast in his hands. He sits on the edge of the bed, a soothing smile plastered on his soft lips.

His smile always brings one to mine. I grin and reach for the plate, but he swats my hand away.

“I'll feed you,” he says gently.

“Fine,” I agree without argument.

He smiles, holding the toast between his fingers and bringing it to my lips. I take a small bite.

“Take bigger bites. You’re not a baby,” he teases.

I glare at him, eyes narrowing with mock annoyance. “Fine,” I say again, complying.

After I finish the toast, he takes my hand in his. His hands are usually softer than mine, but this time they feel rough—like worn stone under my skin.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, then suddenly squeezes my cheeks playfully. I try to swat his hand away, but he only pinches harder to annoy me.

“Jungkook, let go,” I whine.

He leans down, kisses my forehead, and walks out of the room.

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

I’m finally home after getting discharged. Back to the same room, the same house, standing in front of the same wardrobe where I first found those old, worn-out pictures—memories of his past love.

Did he really kill her? Was everything the intriguer said true? I don’t know. But whatever the truth is, I’ll find it.

With a hesitant flick of my wrist, I open the large wardrobe. Everything is perfectly arranged.

I shouldn’t do this. He trusts me with all his heart. I shouldn’t break that trust.

But then my phone rings.

It’s Junghyun. Again.

No matter how many times I block him, he always calls from new numbers.

“What the hell do you want?” I snap, my voice sharp with frustration.

“How are you? I heard you were stabbed and discharged just two days ago,” he says, sounding genuinely concerned.

Should I ask him? Does he know anything about the girl?

“Junghyun… do you know Suyeon?”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Then he answers, “Yes. She was your husband’s girlfriend.”

“I know that. Can you tell me how she died?” I ask, my voice calm but probing.

“Yes. But face to face. Come to our usual café at 4 o'clock,” he says, then hangs up without another word.

What? Should I go?

What will I tell Jungkook?

Without much thought, I grab my purse and tell the driver to head straight to the café near the university.

When I arrive, I take a seat inside. It’s 3:55 p.m.

I used to come here with Junghyun—before he betrayed me, before he ran off from our wedding. I’ll never forgive him.

Just then, the chair across from me scrapes back. Junghyun takes a seat.

“Now tell me,” I demand before he’s even settled.

He laughs, scratching the back of his neck. I want to snap it. That grin on his face—it makes my blood boil.

He orders coffee and snacks, then finally speaks. “Suyeon and Jungkook shared a deep bond. But one day, he was found in a warehouse with her body.”

“What?” I whisper, stunned. “What happened? Tell me clearly.”

Junghyun leans in. “He killed Suyeon. He thought she was cheating on him.”

He says it so casually, like it’s something normal.

“Your husband is a mafia boss, Y/n. No one dared to question him.”

“Mafia?” I repeat, shocked.

“Yes. Didn’t he tell you?” He mocks me. “How sad for you, pretty Y/n.”

“Stop.”

“What do you want me to stop?” he taunts.

I stand to leave, but he grabs my arm.

“If you don’t believe me, go ask Namjoon or Jimin. Go ahead—ask anyone. They’ll brush it off and never give you a real answer. Yoongi… he’s the only one who can tell you the truth.”

“Let go of me,” I hiss.

Instead, he pulls me closer and whispers, “Listen, Y/n. My brother is dangerous. He may be younger, but he’s something else. Someone who will hurt you.”

I slap him. Hard.

Then I turn on my heels, my footsteps echoing across the café’s marble floor. I get into the car.

As the driver pulls away, my eyes fall on the forgotten contact in my phone.

SI Yoongi.

I stare at the name for a while, not sure what to do.

Min Yoongi.

He once helped Jungkook with the elevator case. Since then, I’ve only heard his name in whispers.

I don’t press call. Not yet. My thumb hovers above the screen as my heart races.

What if he refuses to talk?

What if Junghyun was lying?

What if he wasn’t?

I slide the phone back into my bag and lean my head against the window. The city outside is bathed in golden hour light, but none of it touches me. The silence in the car feels like a noose. My driver doesn’t ask questions. He never does. I’m grateful for that.

When we reach home, I walk straight to our room. The door creaks open. His scent still lingers—a mix of warm spice and something darker. A scent that makes you feel safe even when you shouldn’t.

I sit on the bed and pull the drawer open again.

The photos are still there.

I pick one up. It’s slightly curled at the edges, like it’s been held too many times. Jungkook has his arm around a girl. She’s effortlessly beautiful. Her eyes are filled with joy. His, even more so.

A pang hits my chest. Jealousy? No—grief. For a woman I never knew. And for the version of Jungkook I’ll never meet.

I slip the photo back and close the drawer.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

“Y/n?” His voice filters in from behind the door.

I jump to my feet, like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.

He walks in, hair tousled, wearing a black hoodie and loose pants. Casual. But there’s a strange tension in his eyes.

“Where were you? Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod. Too fast.

He steps forward and gently wraps his arms around me. “I was worried when you weren’t home. Just rest, okay?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

He pulls away slightly, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “You look pale. I’ll ask the maids to bring you some soup.”

I nod again. Silence falls.

“Did you meet anyone today?” he asks suddenly.

My heart jumps.

“What?”

“Just wondering.”

“I… needed air,” I lie, avoiding his gaze.

His eyes stay on me for a moment before they soften. “Okay. But next time, let me come with you.”

I nod once more.

He smiles, kisses my forehead, and walks out.

As soon as the door closes, I collapse onto the bed.

He knows I’m hiding something.

And I don’t know what’s worse—his silence, or my own lies.

With trembling hands, I take out my phone again. I scroll to the name.

SI Yoongi.

This time, I press call.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

A click.

Then a deep, quiet voice answers: “Who is this?”

I take a shaky breath.

“This is Y/n. I… I need to talk to you. About Suyeon.”

Silence.

Then:

“Meet me at the station. One o’clock.”

The line goes dead.

And suddenly… I feel like I’ve stepped off a cliff.

A/n Pov;

Guys I was so lazy to write plus this Wattpad. I'm too lazy to connect vpn to update. But here, I'll update regularly on every Sunday. I can try.

To be continued.