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1967 - MANHATTEN, NY

Suga pulled his first trigger when he was eleven, sending a bullet through the head of a man proven guilty. That man, as you would guess, had been guilty of betraying not Suga, but his father Min Se-Jin. Se-Jin wasn't nearly as crazy of a man, but it was clear where Suga had gotten his brain and courage from. Some differences they had were that of remorse, which unlike his father, Suga showed none of. He compared humans to ants, and guns to the heel of his shoes.

At the ripe age of eight, Suga had learned the importance of money, and other unfathomable concepts kids his age would not question. Like family, and how it comes in various ways. The family he had of blood, and the family he had of choice. Sometimes the ones you choose matter more than the ones you're born from. Of that he was sure.

When he first pitched the idea of Beyond The Scenes, he was eighteen. Barely an adult, desperately holding onto the fingers of life after the death of his father, followed by his mother's. He wanted to cherish what was left of their fortune and turn their failed company into the sixties Min Enterprises & Co.

Suga had dug his nails in dirt, starting from the bottom and gradually reaching the top. He searched every nook and cranny for friends that he'd make his family, and make up for the lack of connection he has with his younger brother. And at one point along the way, Suga had taken New York by storm. He was on every magazine, article, and billboard as New York's most successful businessman. Glory. Power. Money. Things he never had as a child were served on a silver platter when he reached twenty-two. The media would treat him as if he's above, and he'd treat them as if they're below. Though what they didn't know was what had been going on behind the scenes. Break past the sugarcoating of Min Enterprises & Co, and you'd enter a world of drugs, money, and guns.

Beyond The Scenes is what he had called it. It was but a job on the side, cashing in on the gullible New York audience he had wrapped around his finger. While news reports praised his excellent entrepreneurial skills, Suga and his chosen family were paving the way underground. They smuggled cocaine, made deals, wrecked casinos, and spent their free time at brothels with blonde chicks and expensive booze.

Similar to that one saying, Suga had risen from his parents' ashes. Bigger, better, and stronger than before.

Then it happened. The Bordello, on a summer evening. A girl in the wrong place, at the wrong time... met with the wrong man. Min fucking Yoongi.

"Boss." JM stepped inside the office. "Miss Whitlock's here. She'd like to speak to you."

Nodding, "Let her in." Yoongi gestured.

Arabella, a brunette woman standing five-foot-three in heels, appeared. She was one of a kind, instantly grabbing Suga's attention when she stepped over the threshold with a look so alluring, she must have been a witch... Or simply a woman with goals.

He never took his eyes off of her, even when lifting her hand to his lips, delicately, to plant an airy kiss on her knuckles. "I was not expecting you so early."

"Me neither." She rolled her eyes and took a seat, throwing one leg over the other to emphasize the slit in her red dress. By the door stood JM, which she could not help but he annoyed by. "I would like to speak to you in private."

Suga had picked up on it by the way she lifted her brow. A menacing facade, he wondered why he felt he was intrigued by it. Smiling softly, "Leave us alone." He gestured at the door, though his eyes were still locked on her feline ones. She was a lioness, Suga was certain.

It was only them in his dimly lit office.

"I see you came straight from work," sharp eyes traveling down her body, as much as his desk allowed, "you've got your stage clothes still on."

Arabella leaned forward, displaying her cleavage in the process. "Unfortunately, I don't get enough personal time. People seem to be crazy over my voice."

"I believe your voice isn't the only thing." Suga glanced down at her plush breasts spilling out of the tight corset she was wearing. with a smirk, placed a cigar between his lips before lighting it, he had offered her one as well, though Arabella refused as she claimed it messed with her vocals. Taking a long puff, brows drawn together, "You've thought about my offer." He pointed. "And my guess is that you've decided to accept it."

"How are you so sure about it?" Coy, she stretched a smile his way and tapped her nails on the surface of his ebony cut, deep wood desk. It added a musky feel to his, otherwise stuffy, office.

As though a cat wanting to play, Suga imitated her smile with a pompous one and sighed. "Well, you wouldn't be in my office if ya hadn't."

He had hit the nail on the head. Arabella came in with a plan in mind, and that plan she bet her life on. "I have decided to accept it."

Yoongi drew a long breath of his cigar.

"I will marry your brother." She gave him a nod, "But-" it was exactly what Yoongi had expected. There's a 'but', a condition. Women love those.

"But what?" He gestured her to hurry up.

Arabella rose to her feet, hands flat on the desk, eyes locked into his like an eagle. "I get paid in advance."

The office lights dimmed as the two fell silent. "What makes you think I'll trust you? And how will I know you won't run off with the money."

"Nothing." Arabella shrugged. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sighed longly. "Though I must say, I am but a woman. There's no place I can run off to, and if it means anything at all, I have no desire to travel to strange places. I need the money here, so you'll always find me here."

Yoongi cleared his throat and drew his pistol out of the waistband of his dress pants, only to gently place it on his desk, right below her very eyes. "I sure hope so. Because if you do, in fact, run off, there wouldn't be a place in the world you could hide from me. I will always find you."

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