The deserted roads were, at times, therapy; there was nothing better than being lost in another world while watching the trees go by in a blur; it seemed like everything was being left behind in a race that couldn't tolerate backward glances. Watching as everything got past you hurriedly, you wished for a day in which your traumas would do the same; you earnestly prayed to ride a car that could drive you away from the past while sitting in the passenger's seat just like the way you were doing while forcibly dragged to your house, aka, Jungkook's residence.

The silence was eerie, and so was Jungkook's demeanor; it frightened you and led you to expect the worst; there was no way on earth Jungkook would sleep on what you did unless he got enlightened by the mercy of the almighty, which you doubted strongly.

The car's door got slammed, and you cringed in your seat; he rushed toward you and unfastened your seatbelt without uttering a word; he held a firm grasp on your arm and jolted you out of the vehicle, dragging you toward the house as he led the way on his own pace.

You weren't expecting Jungkook to tap on your shoulder dearly; you were anticipating his wrath, but you didn't think he would take the whole situation to another level. It seemed like you knocked on the wrong door, searching for clemency.

He took you to his room directly; it was a new occurrence; he'd never done that before. Hurriedly, he led you toward the bathroom; your eyes were on a marathon, checking your propinquities back and forth with bewilderment written all over them as he locked the door behind him. The only thing you managed to do when fear kept growing indescribably was pray.

Jungkook stripped you of the vest Taehyung lent you and tossed it on the floor with utter disgust. You were like some object between his hands. He handled you the way he wanted, and your lips remained sealed; truth be told, the look on his face wasn't inviting to say much; his brows were furrowed while his jaw clenched, the veins on his neck protruded, and when his arms moved, his muscles twitched expressing the sort of anger his mouth refused to let out.

The relief you felt when he diverted his gaze from your half-naked body was immense but pathetically short-lived. You'd wondered why he would confine you in the bathroom in the first place and why in his room as a second thought, but he generously gave you answers to questions you never managed to ask. Answers you were doing much better off without.

He dragged you into the shower stall and soaked your body under cold water. The guttural cry that managed to escape your lips was music to his ears, it held a meaningful comprehension of the situation you were in due to your bratty acts, and he couldn't be more satisfied.

"Don't you dare," he growled as he pulled a fistful of your hair tightly; its pain was almost unfelt as your body faced more gut-wrenching torture. You were miserably shivering when he seemed not to care much, albeit sharing your punishment with you, his posture stayed upright, radiating a tremendous amount of intimidation, and with equal menace, he stretched his index in front of your face; "it's you who decided to get dirty, well, now you will get clean, I'll make sure of it."

He rubbed the soft skin of yours vigorously; he took it upon himself to take off the traces another man had left behind; the marks on your wrist were adding to his blazing anger fuel; he wished to put bleach on them had he known it would work the same way it does on dirty stains.

He cupped your jaw assertively, his piercing gaze emanating venom that had you feeling sick, "with my partner y/n? You dared lie to my face; you fucking humiliated me in front of that son of a bitch; if you think this will pass unpaid for, you're gravely fooled."

"Jungkook, don't. Listen, you can hurt me the way you want, but I'm begging you, let him out of this."

The walls of the spacious bathroom echoed vividly the slap that landed on your cheek. You'd already committed an unforgiven sin and kept insisting on digging your grave further by protecting your Romeo; you were testing his patience, albeit knowing clearly that he hadn't much of it, to begin with.

You hadn't had time to recover from the hissing itch on your face when your scalp started sipping on the same poison. Jungkook was unleashed and keen to let you feel the same pain he felt when he caught a grasp of the outrageous feat you pulled with his partner. Jungkook was known as a prideful man, trickling with male toxicity; being treated as the village's lost fool wasn't something he fancied, and you did just that.

He'd thrown you on your bed after stirring you from his room to yours by tugging your hair. Not sparing you a second, he slammed the door behind him as he left you to your demons for some private time and locked it from the outside.

Time could fly, not giving any chance to be chased after or become a turtle to pet; it depends on one's situation and circumstances. In your case, time ruled it was necessary for you to get a pet; you were too lonely and needed some company.

But that wasn't the case outside your room; the world had no time to wait for you; things needed to keep it on the move with every dusk and dawn; people needed to keep it on the wing, for they were alive when you were only breathing.

Plots were under constant process, schemes embroidered with fashionable design kept in mind were the fruit of the newest collection of the renowned designer, retaliation. All made from local material, all made in hell.

"Gotta some good news for you; in exchange, I would like a good americano; I'm suffering the withdrawal already."

"I've got similar issues; the only difference is that coffee ain't doing much about 'em."

It has been ages since Yoongi last saw Taehyung in such a state, disheveled and far from immaculate. His raven locks were messy, a proof of how many times he ran his fingers through them; his tie was undone while a few of his shirt's buttons were open; as if all this wasn't already a warning similar to that found at the door of some houses, indicating the presence of a dog that could be as dangerous as the man sitting behind the desk, his brows were the additional description of his instance, puckered in a knot that was hosting a wrinkle.

"Dammit, man, 'sup with you again?"

"Work, tons of it. What about this sudden surge of energy, Min? It doesn't fit your vibes at all."

"Gotcha. Your gloomy ass ain't considering retiring, fine." Yoongi threw an envelope on Taehyung's desk and sat on the couch lazily while unbuttoning his vest, "but you gotta check on that jam before, you may thank me later, and for the records, words aren't currency banks in this country accept."

Taehyung opened the envelope and carefully read the files inside it. He never imagined a bunch of papers to become the reason behind the sudden shift of mood he desperately needed. Now he even considered going all the way to Ethiopia to bring the finest coffee beans out there for the man in front of him.

"See, I told you. Now, where's the coffee?"

"How about lunch instead, the finest sashimi house in the area, my treat."

"Now we're speaking the same language," Yoongi grinned, satisfied with the results of his hard work. "What will you do about it?"

Instead of answering the curious man in front of him, Taehyung brought the phone to his ear and ordered two coffees; he watched amusedly a bored Yoongi, who was getting impatient with every passing second.

"Kim, don't you know that a real man needs to keep his word? What about the lunch you promised?"

"Don't you know that one of men's virtues is patience, Min?"

Taehyung studied the precious pieces of information he had been handed, carefully shaping his plan and tailoring it to perfection while Yoongi welcomed the secretary with a lustful gaze; he thanked inwardly Taehyung for having discharged his previous assistant; he always had been a good-for-nothing according to Yoongi.

"Thank you, beauty." Yoongi winked, restraining his hands from landing somewhere other than the cup of coffee he was supposed to grab.

"Rachel, I don't want a fly near the office until further notice, don't transfer me any calls either," Taehyung ordered as he dismissed the woman back to her work.

"You picked a good one, baby Kim. You've got a good sight, I must admit."

"Don't be such a thirsty specimen. You've already got enough around your pinky."

"You're such a vibe killer Tae," said the frustrated man with a scoff, "Jin was much easier to be around."

Taehyung's wounds weren't fully healed yet; they were still bleeding and needn't be pocked, for it only caused unnecessary pain every time. The man needed ointment; he needed care.

Certainly, not a reminder.

Taehyung cleared his throat and fought off the weight heaving on his chest; he'd tried his utmost to keep his feelings unshown; he always despised the pitiful looks a bit more than his fate. "I need your head clean, Yoongi; we're down to business now; you can satisfy your leaking tip afterward when the job is done."

Yoongi gave his cup of coffee a break; he placed it on the table and leaned to meet the backrest while refusing to break the eye contact he established with the man across. "You know what? Most of the time, I think my father's belt needs to meet your skin; it will take care of that brat in you," Taehyung listened carefully while giving Yoongi a side glance, a painfully scrutinizing one with a brow fully arched; nevertheless, he kept it shut while the older man lightened a cigarette before resuming his speech, "frankly speaking though, that bitchy behavior of yours is what makes you the rightful man for the job, plus it's attractive."

Taehyung's rudeness was a second nature ignited every time he felt vulnerable or in some way triggered. He couldn't deny it nor apologize; the latter was his shield, and it wasn't supposed to transpire weakness.

A cigarette met Taehyung's lips and retreaded, leaving behind a puff of smoke which he exhaled fully, intending to clean his chest from the residues of stubborn emotions and filling it instead with a significant percentage of tar and nicotine.

"Glad to meet a fan," Taehyung smirked; his smile was never able to meet his eyes while he carefully turned one of the files toward Yoongi, "this is our winning card; it will be such an easy win; a simple plan and that's all because of you."

"Don't tell me you're planning on taking that route?" Yoongi questioned, eyes shining from a pleasurable curiosity. From Taehyung's tone, he'd understood his intentions; he read him like the palm of his hand.

Taehyung propped his body forward and rested his elbows on the desk, the smoke from his cigarette twirling above his head as the hand holding it rested on his temple, "straight on it, man."

"We'll need to make out of the smoke a blazing fire; to do that, we'll need to spread the word all over the country," Yoongi stated while writing down the name of a reporter who would come in handy in executing said plan. " call him and get him on board, I'll take care of the rest in my way."

"Well, as we're done with work now, let's go eat," Taehyung threw a wink paired with a grin to a happy Yoongi. Hurriedly, he collected the documents and carefully placed them inside the safe. He was ready to continue the discussion outside of the company's premises.

Outside, somewhere safer.

Taehyung refused to discuss any critical plans inside his office, for he never trusted any of his employees; he just couldn't after witnessing what trust could lead to with his own eyes.

Everyone seemed a potential threat; they could be playing on both sides. Money often bought companionship; money's a bitch, and trust is as rare and precious as colorless diamonds.

Taehyung enjoyed Yoongi's club more during the day than at night; he liked watching the employees preparing for the opening, some cleaning the pile of glasses while others were moping the floor. The place was calmer if not for the indistinct shatters of workers trying hard to make out of those boring activities a bit more delightful; he'd rather spend hours there during that time than deal with the atmosphere when the dimmed colorful lights were on and the music loud.

Scotch wasn't one of Taehyung's favorite drinks; it was his brother's; he just found himself mirroring the older man's habits to maintain his memory alive until they eventually grew on him and became his as well; the thought of it drew a smile on his lips when Yoongi slid the glass of whisky he has ordered on the table, and with immense interest, he twirled the drink before bringing it near his mouth.

"I called him," Taehyung announced, his eyes darting around, intaking the scenery of the place as if he wanted the image to be captured in his head, "how is it going on your side?"

"My men are on it," Yoongi reassured, elbows on the woody table as he leaned closer to the younger man, "it's only a matter of time before he becomes the talk of the city, which also means that it's just a matter of time before his shares reach the ground."

Yoongi had kept a considerable part of the found treasure in his hold; he deemed it wise to only share what would benefice their cause without exposing them to danger, which, in other words, meant him hiding most of the discovery from Taehyung.

But when he came across the file that proved the dirty connection between Jungkook and the mayor, he realized that sharing is caring and also figured that the best person who could make a weapon out of the piece of paper was no one but his brilliant partner.

It wasn't anymore a scoop that Jungkook was dirty; it had become common knowledge at this point, nothing shock-worthy; however, realizing how far he could go regarding money was still surprising to Yoongi.

Although the loss Yoongi had suffered because of Jungkook and his greed, Yoongi couldn't fathom how an influential person who lacked in no department could stoop as low as Jungkook had a knack for doing. It was repelling.

But there's no ampleness when it comes to money and power. That's a fact.

Jungkook was supposedly Taehyung's partner, but it seemed like the man didn't fully understand what partnership meant, or he did but preferred to go by his books for his reasons; which is why Jungkook instead of helping Taehyung with his deal as he had a strong bond with the mayor, he induced pressure.

This revelation didn't phase Taehyung; he didn't expect much from Jungkook in all cases; if anything, he expected the worst.

That single piece of paper proofing the mutually beneficial relationship between Jungkook and the mayor came in handy; it was a single stone to be thrown at two birds simultaneously; Jungkook and the pigheaded mayor. 

Jungkook was promoting the mayor's campaign for the next elections; it wasn't an out-of-love act or some charity; no, Jungkook wasn't in that sort of shit; it was a give-and-take based on money and power; The mayor needed his image polished, which is why he required Jungkook's company as a mediator, he desperately needed the press to be on his side, he needed his dirty profile to stay under the radar and Jungkook did that on the best note in exchange of political influence and governmental help, which comes hand in hand with money.

However, the skeletons the mayor was hiding were a bit too big to be kept in the closet; they definitely needed a walk-in dressing at this point, considering their size; sealing weapons and drug deals while running for re-election wasn't a smart move, or maybe it was as far as it was carefully hidden, but unfortunately, it had resurfaced, and ironically, the source was no other but the cover itself.

When Yoongi came across this document, he made a mental note to raise his employees' salaries. They were excellent.

"Watch your six," said Taehyung as he watched Yoongi walk away from their table, "stay low."

Yoongi turned around, giving Taehyung a smile that wasn't much reassuring, " it's you who usually draws attention, imma keep it clean. No need to worry."

Taehyung hadn't felt the time passing; it was the loud music that brought him out of his trance, but it was already late; the club was already full of people, sweaty bodies grinding against each other at the sensual beats; he'd started worrying already about how many 'excuse me' he'd need to say to make his way out of the place.

Cutting short his trail of thoughts, his phone announced an incoming call which he accepted without hesitation.

"'Sup man, long time no talk."

"Same to you, man. Where you at?"

"You're right; I've been a bit busy lately. What about a drink Jimin?"

Jimin was in the area already; he had been following Yoongi for a few days, seeking answers to his unspoken questions, which was why he was in front of Taehyung in less than ten minutes. Ten minutes was the maximum he could wait in his car after the phone call ended.

"You've started hugging the booze early; what's the matter?" Jimin questioned a slightly dizzy Taehyung.

"Too much in my head; so, how's work going?"

"Besides missing you around, everything's fine, Tae."

At breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Jimin had a script that detailed everything he wanted to tell Taehyung; still, it was awkward, and he couldn't bring himself to talk about his topics, about matters that he wished to take with him to the grave.

So he decided to do what he does best; listen.

"How's the hospi—

"It's still about love, isn't it?"

"Was that the matter before? Was it love?" Taehyung questioned, fake inquisitiveness shining through his eyes.

It was a half-expected answer for Jimin, but it had a particular effect on him nonetheless; He'd let the distance between him and Taehyung grow as he suddenly shifted his body backward; he'd given him a condemnatory gaze mixed with a sprinkle of doubt. Jimin barely restrained himself from casting judgments he may regret right after.

"You see, Jimin, it had always been standing between two far edges; it had always been about two opposites; it has never met a middle ground, that feeling I have toward that woman."

Taehyung downed the glass of whisky, which had been refilled by the waiter for the umpteenth time in one shot, enjoying the bitterness of the liquid that seemed to share the same taste as his life; the only difference was that the sourness of his drink was pleasurable as it was temporary, his life at the other hand enjoyed more of a constant pattern, "but it isn't any longer, those two parallel lines have met finally."

"Where they met, Taehyung?"

"At the summit of hate, Jimin."

If you just could see the whole picture Tae, but at this point, I don't know which one is more painful, being in the dark, or getting exposed to harsh truths.

A/N

Just a little reminder, your opinion and votes are appreciated.

Also, I'll be posting a trailer soon for this book, something that will give a visual representation of the aesthetic of this ff, so please look forward to it.

Thank you for reading this book and giving it your precious time 😘

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]