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Location: University rooftop

A  U  T H  O  R  'S    P  O  V

The rooftop was their secret place—a small world above the chaos of university life. The golden afternoon sun cast warm hues across the
concrete, and a gentle breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers from the campus garden below. The muffled laughter of students and the occasional honking from distant streets were the only reminders that life continued beyond these walls.

Dayeun sat on the cool ground, her legs folded beneath her, a thick notebook balanced on her lap. Her brows furrowed in deep concentration as she chewed on the tip of her pencil, her gaze locked onto a stubborn equation that refused to make sense.

Beside her, Jeon Jungkook sat cross-legged, watching her with quiet amusement. A lunchbox rested between them, filled with an assortment of food he had carefully prepared earlier that morning. He had never been the type to care for cooking, but for her—his Goddess—he found himself wanting to do things he never imagined before.

“Here,” he murmured, picking up a spoonful of rice and grilled chicken. He held it in front of her lips. “Eat.”

Dayeun barely glanced up. “Jungkook, I’m trying to—”

“I don’t care.” His tone was soft but firm, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You need to eat. Open up.”

She sighed, finally giving in, and parted her lips. He gently placed the spoon between them, watching as she chewed, the tension in her features relaxing as the flavors melted on her tongue.

A small, satisfied hum escaped her. “Mmm… this is really good.”

Jungkook’s smirk grew. “Of course, it is. I made it.”

Dayeun chuckled but didn’t argue. Instead, she returned to her notes, flipping a page and scribbling down calculations.

Jungkook, however, didn’t take his eyes off her.

He was mesmerized.

She was so effortlessly beautiful—her hair catching the sunlight, her lips pursed in thought, her fingers delicately holding onto the pencil as if it were an extension of her.

And yet, she was completely unaware of the effect she had on him.

A gust of wind brushed past them, carrying a few loose strands of her hair across her face. Without thinking, Jungkook reached forward, gently tucking them behind her ear.

Her eyes flicked up at the touch, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Her dark brown eyes were deep pools of warmth, filled with patience and kindness—something he had never known before meeting her.

Something he never knew he needed.

Jungkook’s mind drifted, the present fading into the shadows of his past.

A past he wished he could erase.

A past filled with loneliness, betrayal, and abandonment.

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[  F  l  a  s  h  b  a  c  k  ]

Jungkook was seventeen when he stopped believing in love.

It had only been three months since his father’s funeral, yet his mother had already moved on.

Three. Months.

He remembered standing in the doorway of their home, his hands clenched into fists as his mother introduced her new husband.

A man with a charming smile, polished shoes, and a hand that rested far too comfortably on his mother’s waist.

"You’ll understand when you’re older," she had said, her voice soft but dismissive.

Jungkook had wanted to scream.

How could she?

How could she replace his father so easily? How could she look at another man with the same eyes that once held love for his father?

Something inside him broke that day.

From then on, he despised women.

To him, they were all the same—unfaithful, selfish, disloyal.

He distanced himself from everyone, carrying his hatred like armor, refusing to let anyone close.

Until her.

The first time he saw  Kim Dayeun, he was drowning in his own bitterness.

He had been sitting alone in the university library, flipping through a book he had no intention of reading, his mind clouded with thoughts he couldn’t escape.

Then, a voice broke through his silence.

“Excuse me… is this seat taken?”

Jungkook had barely glanced up, intending to ignore whoever it was.

But then he saw her.

Kim Dayeun.

She stood there, holding a stack of books against her chest, her dark eyes filled with quiet kindness.

Jungkook didn’t respond. He didn’t care.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Without waiting for his permission, she sat down.

Silence stretched between them, but unlike before, it wasn’t suffocating.

It was… peaceful.

She didn’t try to start a conversation. She didn’t pry. She simply sat there, reading, her presence warm and steady —like the sun peeking through storm clouds.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook didn’t feel alone.

And that terrified him.

She was dangerous.

Because unlike everyone else, she had the power to make him feel.

And feeling was something he had sworn never to do again.

[ End of flashback]

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[  P   r  e   s   e   n  t   ]

“Jungkook?”

Her soft voice pulled him back to reality.

He blinked.

Dayeun was looking at him, her expression laced with concern. “You okay? You spaced out for a second there.”

Jungkook exhaled, shaking his head. "Yeah... just thinking."

“About what?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

His lips curled into a small smile.

“Nothing important.”

She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him, but she let it go.

Jungkook, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel relieved.

Because if she knew the truth—if she knew just how much she meant to him, how much he needed her—he wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the weight of it.

So, for now, he remained silent.

Instead, he picked up another spoonful of food and held it up to her lips.

"Eat," he murmured again, softer this time.

And she did.

And for the first time in years, Jungkook felt at peace.

With her.

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Location:  Kim Cooperation

Seokjin sat in the vast expanse of his office, the city lights flickering beyond the glass, casting sharp shadows across the room. His fingers drummed slowly against the polished desk as the last of the day’s documents were signed. His movements were deliberate, precise, a sign of someone who had perfected the art of control. There was an air of quiet intensity around him, the kind that could bend the world to his will without ever raising his voice.

But something, something deep within him, was not at peace.

The sharp click of the pen against the desk echoed louder than usual as he finished signing the last document. His gaze remained fixed on the black ink, his face expressionless. He wasn't thinking about business. He wasn't thinking about anything at all—except her.

His mind replayed the moment over and over again, her soft eyes locking with his across the crowded restaurant. She had been an enigma, a puzzle that refused to fit within the rigid confines of his meticulously structured life. Her gaze had disarmed him, a rare feat in a world where Seokjin's dominance over every situation was unquestioned.

The silence was broken by the subtle click of high heels against the marble floor.

Across the room, Yeon Yami, his assistant, stood by the desk. She was clad in an ensemble that was meant to grab attention—a tight white blouse and  a  black pencil skirt that accentuated her curves. Her movements were deliberate, the subtle sway of her hips designed to draw his eye.

"Sir," she cooed, her voice smooth as silk, laced with an unmistakable sense of flirtation, "if there’s anything else you need…" She leaned forward slightly, her cleavage revealing itself in a way that was just shy of being inappropriate.

Seokjin didn't even glance at her. His focus remained unwavering as he signed yet another document, his movements mechanical. "You can leave," he said flatly, not giving her the satisfaction of a glance.

Yami's smile faltered just for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Are you sure? You’ve worked so hard today… Perhaps you need some relaxation." She took a step closer, letting the scent of her perfume linger in the air, a subtle invitation.

Seokjin's jaw tightened imperceptibly, a slight flare of irritation pulsing within him. He had no time for distractions. Not now. Not when his mind was consumed with thoughts of Her. His hand rested momentarily on the cold surface of the desk, his patience nearly exhausted.

Before he could respond, the door to his office opened.

Jaebeom entered without waiting for permission, his face as impassive as ever. He glanced briefly at Yami, who had instantly straightened and backed away from the desk, adjusting her blouse in a futile attempt to regain her composure. She scurried out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the marble as she disappeared down the hallway.

Seokjin's gaze met Jaebeom’s, his expression still unreadable. He didn't miss the way Jaebeom observed the interaction, his eyes calculating.

His sharp eyes flickered toward the door, where Yeon Yami had just slithered out, her desperate attempts at seduction falling on deaf ears.

Seokjin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

"Annoying.", Seokjin spated .

Jaebeom closed the door behind him, locking it with a quick motion, and then took a few measured steps toward Seokjin’s desk, placing two files carefully on the surface. His voice was calm, almost detached as he spoke. "Should I fire her?"

Seokjin didn't respond immediately. His gaze was now focused on the files before him, his fingers lightly tapping on the edge of the desk. His lips parted slightly as he let out a small hum of consideration. The offer to dispose of her was tempting, but Seokjin's mind was already drifting to more sinister plans. He was never one to act impulsively. He had a better plan for Yeon Yami.

"No," Seokjin said, his voice cold, the decision final. "I have a better plan for her."

Jaebeom nodded, accepting Seokjin's decision without question. He understood the weight of those words—Seokjin's plans were always meticulous and layered with intention.

Seokjin glanced at the two files Jaebeom had placed in front of him.

"The first contains everything on Kim Namjoon." , Jaebeom Said.

The first was thick, detailing the full biodata of Kim Namjoon—one of Seokjin's closest competitors in business. He flipped through it quickly, his sharp eyes scanning the data with interest. Namjoon’s business dealings, financial records, family background—all of it was here. Seokjin hummed thoughtfully as he turned the pages.

Jaebeom continued, "Namjoon’s hold over his empire is strong, but he’s vulnerable in certain areas. His loyalty to his people makes him predictable. He doesn't discard assets easily, which can be both a strength and a weakness."

Seokjin hummed in acknowledgment, his fingers tapping against the page. "Predictability can be a death sentence."

Jaebeom smirked. "Precisely."

Seokjin turned the page, scanning the details of Namjoon’s family background. His sharp eyes paused in one section—something about his younger years, the loss of his  distant family members, Adopting 3 cousins under his care and the rise of his empire.

"Interesting," Seokjin murmured, making a mental note.

"And the second?" Seokjin asked, though his eyes hadn't yet left the file in his hands.

Jaebeom hesitated, only for a moment. "It’s the list of people who dined at the restaurant during your meeting with your supposed fiancée."

Seokjin's fingers froze, and for the briefest second, his pulse quickened. Fiancée. The word had an unsettling weight to it, and he loathed it. The very thought of being tied to another person—particularly someone like Hawoon—made his stomach churn. He turned to the second file, but his mind wasn’t on Hawoon.

He scanned through the list of names of those who had dined at the table. His eyes flickered briefly over the unfamiliar names—until one caught his attention.

Kim Jisoo.

A flicker of memory surfaced—the brat who had collided with him. He had been seconds away from teaching the little girl some manners when she had appeared.

His eyes moved down the list.

Kim Minseo.

Kim Dayeun.

The name sent an unfamiliar sensation through him, something unsettlingly foreign.

Kim Dayeun.

His mind replayed the moment in the restaurant—the way she had scolded her sister instead of pleading for forgiveness, the way she had barely spared him a glance before walking away.

Most women either feared him or sought his favor. But she had done neither.

Seokjin leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

"Find out everything about the people at that table," he ordered, his voice calm but laced with quiet authority.

Jaebeom nodded. "Understood."

With that, he turned and left the room, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

Seokjin, now alone, exhaled slowly.

For the first time in years, something stirred within him—something dangerously close to curiosity.

But curiosity was a weakness. And weaknesses… were meant to be eliminated.

Kim Seokjin sat still, his fingers resting on the edges of the  desk where the picture frame that held the face of a woman long gone.

His cold, calculating expression didn’t falter, but his grip on the frame tightened. The weight of the past pressed against his chest like an iron vice, suffocating yet familiar.

His mind drifted—no, dragged—back to a time he had long buried.

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[  f   l   a   s  h   b  a   c  k  ]

The Kim mansion was a palace of wealth and grandeur, but to a five-year-old Seokjin, it was a house of horrors.

Screams echoed through the vast hallways—his mother’s screams.

He flinched as the sharp sound of something breaking shattered through the heavy doors of his parents' bedroom. His small hands clutched the plush teddy bear he wasn’t supposed to have—his father said toys were for weak children, and Kims' was not weak.

Another scream.

Then silence.

Seokjin held his breath.

He peeked around the corner of the hallway, his tiny feet careful not to make a sound against the expensive marble flooring. He knew what would happen if his father saw him. He knew.

The double doors to the master bedroom were slightly ajar. Through the crack, he saw his mother on the floor, her delicate silk nightgown stained with red, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself up.

His father stood over her, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as if nothing had happened. As if she wasn’t bleeding at his feet.

Seokjin’s tiny hands clenched around his teddy bear.

His father’s voice was calm, eerily controlled.

"You never learn, do you?"

His mother coughed, a weak, pitiful sound. "P-Please… stop…"

A slow, mocking chuckle. "You think begging will work this time?"

Seokjin wanted to run to her. He wanted to scream. But he couldn’t move.

He was frozen.

Like always.

His father turned away from his mother, walking toward the grand liquor cabinet in the room. As he poured himself a drink, he said, almost absently, "You’re nothing without me. Do you understand that?"

Seokjin felt his mother’s gaze flicker toward the door, her swollen, tear-streaked eyes finding his.

She saw him.

A silent plea in her eyes.

But what could he do? He was just a child.

Footsteps.

Seokjin immediately stepped back into the shadows, pressing himself against the cold wall as his father left the room, sipping his drink as if he hadn’t just beaten his wife to the floor.

Seokjin didn’t move.

Not until the sound of his father’s footsteps faded.

Not until he was sure he was alone.

Then, hesitantly, he stepped forward.

The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, revealing the aftermath of another one of his father’s lessons.

His mother looked up at him, her face streaked with blood and tears.

And she smiled.

Smiled.

As if she wasn’t in pain. As if she wasn’t dying a little more each day.

"My baby…" her voice trembled. "Did I wake you?"

Seokjin’s throat burned. He shook his head.

She reached out, weak fingers brushing against his small hand.

"You shouldn’t be here," she whispered. "He’ll be mad if he sees you."

He knew that. He knew that.

But he didn’t care.

He knelt beside her, his tiny hands touching the bruises on her arms, his young mind struggling to understand why.

"Why does Appa hurt you?"

His mother stilled.

Then, slowly, she reached out and caressed his face, her touch featherlight.

"Because he can."

Seokjin didn’t understand what that meant.

But he understood one thing.

Power was the only thing that mattered.

His father could do anything because he had power. His mother suffered because she had none.

And Seokjin…

He was weak.

That night, as his mother tucked him into bed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead despite the pain she was in, Seokjin made a vow.

He would never be weak again.

No matter what it took.

No matter who he had to destroy.

[  E  n  d    o f    f   l   a   s  h   b  a   c  k ]

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[  P  r e  s   e  n  t  ]

Seokjin leaned back, rolling his shoulders, but no matter how he tried to relax, his mind remained restless. His empire was thriving—Kim Corporations stood untouchable, his enemies lay in ruin, and his name commanded fear. Everything was as it should be.

And yet, something was wrong.

His fingers unconsciously drummed against the surface of his desk. His thoughts refused to settle, a tangled mess of emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Why couldn’t he forget her?

His jaw clenched as the image of a certain woman invaded his mind again.

Her supposed name: Kim Dayeun.

The girl who had intruded into his life without warning, who had unknowingly unraveled something inside him.

He could still see her—the way she had looked that night at the restaurant, standing in front of that little girl, scolding her gently, unaware of his gaze boring into her.

That moment had been brief, fleeting—yet it had shaken him to his very core.

Why?

Why had she left such a lasting impression?

Seokjin scoffed under his breath, rubbing his temples. This was ridiculous.

He didn’t dwell on women.

He took what he wanted, used them if necessary, and discarded them when they became useless. Feelings, emotions—those were nothing but weaknesses, chains meant to bind fools. He had learned that lesson too well.

And yet, here he was, thinking about her.

His grip tightened on the pen before he tossed it aside, exhaling sharply.

Perhaps it was because she looked like her.

His gaze flickered to the drawer on his left.

For a moment, he hesitated.

Then, as if possessed by some unseen force, his hand moved, pulling it open.

Inside, nestled beneath a stack of documents, lay a silver-framed photograph.

He took it out, staring at the image within.

A woman—her beauty  delicate yet
hauntingly familiar—smiled softly, though her eyes held a sadness that no one had ever bothered to understand.

His mother— Kim Yena.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to acknowledge the truth.

She.. she...… looked like her.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as he set the frame back down.

Seokjin’s throat tightened as old memories clawed their way back into his mind.

The cries.

The bruises.

The blood.

His father had been a monster in the disguise of a man, a tyrant who ruled not only the business world but their home as well. His mother had been nothing more than a beautiful ornament, a possession to be controlled, broken, discarded.

Seokjin had been a mere child, powerless, watching as his father crushed her spirit piece by piece.

"A man does not love, Jin. He conquers."

That was what his father had told him. And he had believed it.

Because love did not exist.

Affection, kindness, mercy—those were illusions, pretty lies meant to deceive.

And yet…  Kim Dayeun.

She had looked at that child with such gentleness.

So much like his mother once had when she would brush his hair back after his father’s punishments, whispering words of comfort even when her own body bore the evidence of his rage.

Seokjin gritted his teeth, shoving the photograph back into the drawer with force.

No.

He refused to let his past dictate his future.

Whatever this obsession was, it was meaningless.

Kim Dayeun  or whatever she is , was  nothing to him.

Just a woman—one who would eventually break like the rest.

Still, as he sat there in the silence of his grand office, staring at the closed drawer, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already lost control.

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🤍 TO BE CONTINUED 🤍

Vote Goal: 28+ Votes

If you’re enjoying the story so far, don’t forget to vote, comment, and share! Your support helps keep this series going, and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!

Thoughts on Chapter 4:

This chapter showed two completely different sides of the story.

We saw a soft, heartwarming moment between Jungkook and Dayeun, a glimpse into how she saved him from his darkness and became the light in his life. But at the same time, we see the contrast with Seokjin—whose darkness is only just beginning to stir.

Seokjin is fascinated by her, but is it just curiosity? Or something deeper? His childhood trauma, his cold and ruthless nature—can he even understand the emotions he’s starting to feel?

And let’s not forget Yeon Yami. Seokjin has a “better plan” for her. What exactly is he planning?

Predictions for Chapter 5:

• Will Seokjin act on his curiosity about Dayeun?

•Will he start interfering in her life, even without realizing it?

•What will Jaebeom find about the people at the restaurant?

•How will Jungkook react if Seokjin starts paying attention to Dayeun?

•What is Seokjin’s “better plan” for Yeon Yami? Will she regret trying to seduce him?

What are your thoughts on this chapter? Drop your comments, theories, and favorite moments below! Let’s hit the vote goal and get ready for an intense Chapter 5!