Jungkook's POV -

The sun was a little too bright for my liking. Too clean. Too loud. But Y/n was wearing this soft blue dress she picked out, and her hand was looped in mine like it belonged there. She kept asking me if the color made her look pale - I kept telling her she looked like peace itself.

We were walking through the boutique aisles, her focus darting between baby things and home décor, and for once, I was okay being dragged from one aisle to another like a lost puppy.

She stopped in front of a mirror, holding up a tiny onesie that said "Boss Baby."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Is this a threat or a prophecy?"

I smirked. "If it's our kid, definitely both."

We were laughing. Actually laughing.

That was when the world decided to remind me it doesn't let me breathe for too long.

The murmurs began like smoke in a forest. Faint at first. Then thicker.

"Did you hear? That case..."

"Suyeon... that girl..."

"...turns out it wasn't Jungkook Jeon. It was his stepbrother. What was his name again?"

"Junghyun. The real culprit. There's video proof. It's all over the news."

My body stiffened before my brain even registered the words.

Y/n stopped beside me, her expression slowly losing its light.

The shop's flat-screen TV was playing the broadcast, volume low - but loud enough to hear:

"A shocking revelation today in the decade-old case involving the tragic death of a minor named Suyeon. Recently released video tapes, sent by an anonymous source, confirm that Jeon Junghyun-stepson of the late business tycoon Jeon Jungsoo-is the true perpetrator of the crime for which Jeon Jungkook was wrongly rumored..."

The camera zoomed in on a blurry freeze-frame of Junghyun holding the camera, blood on his knuckles, twisted smile etched on his face.

Y/n's eyes widened. "Jungkook..."

I exhaled, slow and heavy. My hand instinctively curled around hers like I needed to anchor her - or maybe anchor myself.

"They're out now," I said quietly. "The tapes."

"You sent them?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Anonymous tip. I know who it was, though."

Her brows lifted in question, but I didn't say it. Some things weren't meant for this moment. Not when my chest still burned.

She stepped in front of me, gripping my arms. "How long have you had them?"

I looked down, jaw tightening. "Not long. They were hidden in the mountains, in an old bunker my father owned. He had them... sealed away. No label. No trace. I only found them because I dug through old property files. I-I didn't even believe they were real at first."

Her eyes shimmered. "You searched for them all this time?"

"I was nineteen when I first tried," I said, my voice quieter now, darker. "But then you came into my life. And I tried to forget. But then Junghyun returned. You trusted him."

Her lip quivered. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know," I cut her off gently. "But it still happened. You looked at me like I was the monster. Like I was capable of... what he did to her."

Y/n's hands flew up and cupped my face, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry. Jungkook, I'm so, so sorry."

I let her pull me into her. I didn't resist when her arms locked around my waist and her head buried into my chest. I felt her sob against me - hot and aching - and I wrapped my arms around her small back, holding her tighter than I ever had.

"I should've trusted you," she whispered. "You were protecting me from the same devil."

I leaned down and pressed my lips into her hair. "And now the world knows."

She pulled back slightly, enough to look into my eyes. "You could've stayed silent. Lived with the lie."

"I did for years," I said, tracing the edge of her jaw with my thumb. "But the day you asked me if I hurt her... and I laughed? That wasn't cruelty. That was pain. Because even you... even you thought I could be him."

Her shoulders shook. "Please don't say that-"

"Shh." I pulled her against me again. "It's done now. He's exposed."

"But he's still breathing," she whispered, hatefully.

I smiled darkly. "Not for long."

She didn't say anything to that. She just held me tighter.

And in that store - where baby clothes hung beside us like symbols of futures we were fighting to protect - I realized something.

I didn't need the world to know the truth anymore.

Just her.

And now, she did.

And if Junghyun thought exposure was his punishment... he hadn't yet heard my footsteps coming for him in the night.

The moment we stepped out of that store, the air felt... thinner. Like something heavy had finally shifted off my chest, but left behind a bruise. Y/n was still holding my hand, a little tighter now, like she was afraid I'd disappear the moment she blinked.

I wasn't going anywhere.

We sat in the car silently for a few minutes. The shopping bags in the back seat were forgotten. Even the little onesie she'd laughed over earlier felt like a relic from another life.

Y/n finally broke the silence.

"Your dad..." her voice was soft, like she was stepping carefully over broken glass. "He knew all this time?"

I started the engine, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "He did. He was the one who found me kneeling beside Suyeon's body that night. I'd chased Junghyun, beat the living breath out of him, but his friends pulled me off and Jaehan knocked me out cold."

I swallowed.

"When I woke up, I was at home. My knuckles were bandaged. My father was sitting in the dark, smoking. He didn't look at me, didn't say a word for a long time. Then finally he said-" I paused, letting the words return like a ghost. "'You will not speak of this. You will not touch Junghyun. You will stay silent. This family does not air its filth in public.'"

Y/n stared at me, jaw trembling. "And you listened?"

My hands clenched on the steering wheel. "I was eighteen. And broken. He was the only person I had left who didn't look at me like I was guilty. Until I realized even he did."

Tears slid down her cheek. "You carried it alone for so long..."

"Not anymore," I said, stealing a glance at her. "Now I carry you. And our child. That's all I care about."

We reached home just before dusk. I helped her out of the car and she paused before entering the house.

"Do you... still have the tapes?" she asked hesitantly.

I nodded. "Locked in the study. The originals are with my lawyer now."

"And Junghyun?"

I smirked, the darkness curling in my voice. "He's hiding. Like the coward he is. But I've sent a message."

Her brows raised. "What kind of message?"

I pulled out my phone and showed her the last message I'd sent Junghyun.

"You've run from my silence long enough.
Now run from my voice.
Let's see how far you get before I catch up."

Y/n read it, then looked at me with something between fear and awe.

"You'll really kill him, won't you?" she whispered.

I didn't answer at first. I walked her inside, helped her settle on the couch, and then knelt before her, resting my forehead against her belly. I kissed it softly, as if the child inside could hear me.

Then I looked up at her.

"I didn't kill him when I was eighteen because my father asked me not to. I won't ask you to understand that, but know this-"

My voice dropped lower.

"Now, there's no one alive who can stop me."

She didn't say anything. Just placed her hand on my cheek and kissed my forehead.

A moment later, she whispered, "Promise me... you'll come back safe."

I caught her hand and kissed her palm. "For you? Always."

But deep down, I knew-

This time, there'd be no mercy. No running.

Junghyun's end wouldn't come with a bullet.

It would come with justice.

And I'd be the one holding the scales.

The next morning came slow, soft sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains. I was awake long before the world, long before her. Y/n was still curled beside me, her hair fanned across the pillow, a peaceful frown between her brows even in sleep. I reached over and smoothed it out with my thumb.

She mumbled something in her sleep, shifting closer. My chest tightened.

Guilt is a strange thing—it clings to the strongest people, even when they’re not the ones who should carry it. And she was still holding guilt. For not believing me. For thinking I was the monster Junghyun painted me to be.

But she didn’t see what I saw.

She didn't see the terror in Suyeon's eyes that night, the blood, the silence afterward. She didn’t see my father locking away the tapes in a safe that would take years of digging and burning ties to uncover. She didn’t hear Junghyun laugh when I threatened him last night over the phone, still trying to act like he held any power.

But all that was over now. The world knew.

And Junghyun?

He would feel what Suyeon did. Alone. Helpless. And hunted.

Y/n stirred beside me and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked slowly, then looked up at me with sleep-drenched lashes.

"You're staring again," she murmured, her voice groggy.

"I always stare at what’s mine," I said softly, brushing a knuckle over her cheek.

She blinked again, and then her lips curved into a faint smile—half grateful, half sad.

"Do you think she’d forgive me?" she asked.

I frowned. "Who?"

"Suyeon," she whispered. "For believing Junghyun, even for a moment. For looking at you like—like you were capable of that.”

I leaned down, pressing my forehead against hers. “Y/n, Suyeon would’ve protected you from him too. You weren’t wrong for doubting. He played his game well. I just—” I paused, jaw tightening. “I wish I’d burned him down sooner.”

Her eyes glistened. “No more burning. Just come back to me. That’s all I want.”

I kissed her then—slow, deep, steady. Like anchoring her to me. Like reminding her I wasn’t going anywhere.

---

Later that day, I got a call from Namjoon. He was heading the legal charge now that the tapes had surfaced. Everything was moving fast—news outlets were swarming, the Jeon name was flashing on every screen across the country. Not because of me this time.

Because of him.

Junghyun Jeon: step-son of late industrialist Jeon Jungsoo, accused in the 12-year-old cold case of Suyeon Min.

He was running. Again.

I knew it from the moment Namjoon said Junghyun didn’t show up at his penthouse or at his usual safehouses.

“He’s afraid,” Namjoon said through the phone. “For once.”

“He should be,” I muttered, gripping the edge of my desk.

Behind me, Y/n peeked in. She was wearing one of my shirts, her hair still damp from her shower, cheeks flushed from the heat. I motioned her over with one hand and she sat on my lap without hesitation.

I tilted the phone away from my mouth. “They’ll catch him,” I told her.

She nodded but I could feel the tension in her body. “Just… don’t let them take that from you. Not again.”

I smiled, soft but dangerous. “I won’t. I was sixteen the last time I let someone else write my story.”

She rested her head against my chest.

---

By evening, the media had blown up.

BREAKING: Suyeon Min’s Alleged Killers Identified.
Jeon Junghyun, Stepson of Late Jeon Jungsoo, Under Investigation.
Video Tapes Released by Anonymous Source.

That “anonymous source” was my father's most trusted bodyguard. The one man who knew everything but stayed quiet because I told him to—until now.

Y/n and I sat on the couch watching it unfold.

Reporters. Screams. Statements from Yoongi. Even a clip of Junghyun’s mother yelling at cameras, saying it was all fake.

I chuckled. “She still thinks she can scream the truth into silence.”

Y/n looked up at me. “And you? What do you want now?”

I turned to her. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I want peace. For Suyeon. For me. For you. But before that—”

I stood slowly and kissed the top of her head.

“—I want revenge. For every night I stayed silent when I wanted to scream. For every tear Suyeon shed. And for every second you were made to doubt me.”

She stood too, held onto my hand.

“And when it’s over?” she whispered.

I smirked darkly. “Then, Mrs. Jeon… I’ll take you and our child somewhere so far away, even our ghosts won’t find us.”

She smiled.

But I knew—this wasn’t the end.

This was just the part where the villain finally gets hunted by the monster he created.