Note: I hope it's starts to get a little more interesting here 🤏

I'm still in midst of setting the scene so cut me some slack, I beg 😭

Show some love;; comment and vote! :: ★
(It really motivates me !!)

┏━°⌜ 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ⌟°━┓
⚜️
┗━°⌜    𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙠𝙤𝙤𝙠_ ⌟°━┛

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　
　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　.
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　.⠀　　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,
　　　*　　⠀.
　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　⠀✦
　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*
.⠀ 　　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　.
　　　　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　    　　　　　　　　.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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.　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　*
　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　
　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　.
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　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  　　　　　⠀✦⠀　
　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　.
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　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.
　.⠀　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,
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•

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•

Jia's PoV

"How's it going?" The voice on the other end of the phone call questioned, causing Jia to look up from the blood red wine, swirling in her glass, to her surroundings. She sighed.

"Boring. That's one thing." Jia muttered, throwing a quick fake smile to a couple passing by. Their lack of reply caused her lips to return its original scowl, pushing her to grumble to herself. "And everyone here is a snob. Big fucking snobs, all from Seoul's elite." Her eyes narrowed on a congressman, heartily laughing among a group of other men in suits.

"Well," her friend on the phone giggled in response. "You're at an art gallery. Historical artworks from all, well known romantic artists, who painted during the eighteenth and nineteenth century, are being showcased, for the first and last time in the country. Look at a few."

Jia rolled her eyes. "Because that's exactly what I'd like to do on a Saturday night, while my favourite show is being aired back at home," she paused, before continuing. "Hana, you know exactly why I'm here, which means I can't afford to waste time losing my mind over the meaning behind paintings, that have been quote un quote, left to the viewers imagination. I like my art straightforward." Her gaze briefly flicked past the painting she was describing, widening at the crowd of people surrounding it.

"You need to appreciate art more, you grump," Hanna's laughter died down, as silence fell between the two once again. "Okay, then, Agent 002, I'll leave you to it. Call me when you get home, okay."

"Mhm, bye Hana." Jia waited for her to return her farewell, before cutting the call and throwing her phone back into her clutch. Now it was time to get serious.

Jia picked up the wine glass placed on the small table beside her, bringing the rim of the glass to her lips to take a small sip. It took all her might to hide the her disgusted facial expression at the bitter taste that gathered on her tongue. Wine had never been her favourite, but here she was, standing amongst a crowd of rich folk, forced to do whatever they liked. All for the sake of a mission.

Usually, Jia knew better than to complain. Part of being an agent meant being able to adhere to the likes of the people she was investigating, making sure that nothing was different from then. However, it had been a year and a half since she had been stuck with the same case, and it was slowly, yet surely dragging her to her wits end. The Jeon family. One of the biggest organised crime families in Asia, and culprits to surely many crimes. Illegal money lending businesses, using fear and intimidation against locals, illegal weapon trading, drugs, alcohol, prostitution, gambling; you name it.

Unlike what the smaller crime families did, dragging ordinary people into their sick schemes, the Jeon's only dealt with the upper class. The country's top elites; and the Jeon's had them all in the palms of their hands. There were even rumours of congressmen being connected to them, the previous president and so many other government officials. A family even the NIS found themselves weak to.

Jeon Jungkook, the current head of the organisation was nothing like the other criminals she had ever come across. Unlike his name, his face remained hidden from the public world, allowing him to hide better from the punishments of his crimes. Amongst the many, murder, although not of civilians, but people just as intertwined in the ropes of organised crime.

Regardless of this fact, murder was still murder, and against the law. Because of this man, the difficulties in Jia's life had increased by tenfold. It felt as if she was stumbling along the uneven path of a pier, barefoot and blindfolded, unaware of when she would fall. Sometimes she saw it as a game of hide and seek, like she'd play as a child, except it was one of those moments when the hider was forced to go home, by their parents, and the poor, unknowing seeker, continued to search, assuming they were still playing.

Over the course of the past year and a half, since she was given this mission, several people had been arrested. Former clients, gang members, corrupt officials, and yet all of them claimed something different. Some said old, greying hair and a beard, some said young, tattoos on his face, and slim build; each person's description of Jeon Jungkook was different, and it was driving her off the cliff of her sanity.

"Just who are you, Jeon Jungkook." Jia whispered, with slanted eyes and carefully perceived her surroundings. Was he going to even be here? Tonight's gallery was hosted by Rose Hall, one of the several companies owned by the Jeon's. It featured the artworks of international artists, from the romantic period and early modern era.

However what didn't make sense to her, was that all of these artworks were initially homed in well known, and protected museums, such as the Louvre. There was absolutely no way the French, Spanish, or whatever country these paintings were shipped from, government would allow some Korean 'businessman' to come steal these artworks for a night, unless money was involved. A hefty sum of it.

Suddenly, a crowd of people pushed past Jia, causing the wine in her glass to spill, though fortunately not on her dress. The person, woman, glared at Jia like she was an unwanted stain, before almost shrieking once she noticed a speck of red on her own, cream gown. "You—" She huffed, before looking away, and then back to her. "Watch where you go! I have somewhere, but I'll be back! This is a Bulgari limited edition!" Her heels clicked as she walked away, also in the direction of practically half of the others in the room. Gathering around one person.

Jia scowled at the woman's back, her hips swaying and hair bouncing as her figure disappeared around a corner. Taking a deep breath, she placed the dripping wine glass back onto the table and made her way in the same path, curious as to what was happening. In the distance, she could make out a person, a man, making his way towards the reception of the gallery, with several cameras, reporters and simply guests, crowding around him. She gasped. That was him; Kim Taehyung.

He was tall, no doubt. Golden skin, that shone glamorously beneath the harsh flashes of the cameras, and his sable hair gently bounced each time he took a confident step. Kim Taehyung spotted an expensive brown suit, a Rolex latched around his wrist, and dark leather shoes. This man was face of Geum entertainment, the most successful company owned by the Jeon's, its CEO. All the deals, all though signed and decided by Jeon Jungkook, it was Taehyung who spoke them to the clients. He was the one the public only knew of, and he was the one, most certainly, closest to Jeon Jungkook. Hence, it was crucial for Jia to get more information on him too.

Taehyung's hands were buried deep into the pockets of his trousers, whilst his gaze on the floor, only briefly flicking up, to unintentionally meet hers.

Jia's breathing paused.

Taehyung's stare remained on her for half a second longer, before he looked away and began to make his way up, onto the stage. Jia's attentive eyes remained on him, as he spoke, taking mental notes of his deep, honey like voice, the different stances he took, and even the hearty laugh that left his lips at the end when he made a joke. Once his speech was over, he invited all of the guests to come join him at the actual gallery, reminding them to leave their drinks and snacks first. He led the way and soon everyone followed him.

Jia hastily grabbed her clutch before also running after them, spreading out her arms to stabilise herself as she almost lost her balance. She attempted to push past the congestion, wanting to get a closer look, or possibly a conversation with Kim Taehyung. Internally high-five-ing herself when he turned around to face her, her grin quickly dropped when he was whisked away into another conversation, the couple dragging him away into a far end of the room.

"Hey—wait—" she called out, but her words wavered and died in her throat without being heard by anyone but herself. There was a painfully long queue of people, women, beside him all awaiting the chance for conversation. "I'll just find a chance later, then." She sighed, lowering her hand and turning around to finally take a good look at the paintings. Although she didn't understand it, she decided to take advantage of the fact that such historical works were being showcase for the first, and only time, here in Korea.

She wandered around the gallery, from painting to painting, carefully analysing each artwork. Soon enough, Jia began to see past the brush strokes and vivid colours, and into the small messages artists had left behind. Whether it were words of woe, anger, love or jealousy, the little symbolisms became brighter and more noticeable, the more thoughtfully she stared.

However there was one artwork, none of the guests were standing beside. All the others, popular works, like 'The Kiss' by Edvard Munch or 'Shipwreck in the Stormy Sea' by Ivan Aivazovsky, contained colours and fame, so stopped to take pictures next to them, but this one not. It seemed to be a a white canvas, its story etched onto it with the utmost detail. There was a figure sitting down, with his head in his arms at a table, sleeping as if. Yet behind him, there were all sorts of creatures gathered, associated with the night and darkness.

A cold shiver ran up Jia's spine as her sight settled on the centre of the print. It was an animal, perhaps a lynx, black as charcoal and its piercing white eyes stared directly to her, rather than the figure in sleeping. On the table, she mumbled out the letters etched, "The sleep of reason produces monsters." Her saliva dried up in her mouth.

"It's eerie isn't it?"

Her eyes danced around the artwork, letting its shapes and colours sink in some more, before replying. "Hmm," she hummed, agreeing. "It is." Jia paused. "Wait—? Who..." the words died in her throat when she met the intense scrutiny of the person standing beside her.

He stood tall, towering beside her, clad in a luxurious, black, three-piece suit, a crisp white shirt and a tie around his neck. She could tell he had a strong build from the way the fabric hugged his arms, sitting proudly atop his broad shoulders. His charcoal hair was gelled perfectly back, however, a few single strands had fallen down, freeing themselves from the captivity of the gel, to gently lay on his forehead. As her stare travelled higher, to his face, she took note of his annoyingly harmonious features. Dark irises, a chiselled jawline, as sharp as a knife, a strong brown bone, a tall nose bridge; they all fit perfectly together like the pieces to a puzzle. Then, her focus fell onto the whimsical smirk playing on his lips.

She couldn't help the reply, knowing that the only way to continue with tonight's mission was to lie low. "Yes?" Jia arched her eyebrow at the man's sudden interference.

The stranger nudged his head in the direction of the painting, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Francis Goya, he created this piece in 1799." There was something different about his voice. The more he enunciated, a warm feeling pooled in the pit of Jia's stomach. It made her sick. "Would you like to hear more?"

She shifted her weight to her other foot, raising her arms and shrugging, "Don't let me stop you from geeking out."

The man chuckled and shook his head. It was deep, cordial and one that sent rippling aftershocks in her direction after having rumbled out of himself. "Although Goya didn't name the artwork himself, it was named from the writing engraved on the stone the figure is seen to be lying on. 'The sleep of reason produces monsters,'" he read out the name in Spanish, surprising Jia. "The key concept for his painting, like many arts during the romantic movement, be it novel, theatre or art, was the conflict between passion, imagination here, and reason, and how indubitably dependent they are on each other."

Jia nodded, switching her attention back to the painting. "I see."

"His work echoes some themes of the enlightenment, describing reason as a work of imagination, and that due to imagination, reason 'sleeps'" His mysterious eyes never left her for a second as he spoke. "However, he's also claiming that with the absence of reason, monsters are produced. That you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself, you should dream, yes, but stay reasonable, otherwise monsters will emerge from the shadows."

This feels strangely aimed.

Just as Jia opened her mouth to respond, she noticed Kim Taehyung coming to stand next to a group of people, only several feet from her. She turned away from the painting and inched closer, hoping to get a whiff of what they spoke about. "Who is that...?" Jia mumbled, squinting her eyes at the old man Taehyung shook hands with. He was short, and plump, but his back faced her so she couldn't make out his face.

"The mayor of Busan." A rich voice answered beside her ear.

Jia flinched, whipping her head to the left to see the stranger, the art geek, now close to her, leaning into her ear. He was so close that is she only slightly lifted her shoulder, his chin would brush against the bare skin. Momentarily, she held his gaze, before sputtering as she looked away. "T-thanks."

'The mission, Jia! Focus!' Sirens blared in her head, warning her that if she didn't smarten up, a months of hard work would go down the drain.

As she analysed the group of people, several questions flashed in her mind. What was the mayor of Busan doing here? Documents at HQ clearly stated him as a man with traditional, close minded views, and no opinion on the abstract world of art. Neither was his wife, his kids or any family members interested in art. There was no reason for Han Jaesuk, to show up at tonight's gallery, unless. Jia's eyes widened, unless there's some sort of deal going on between the Jeon's and the mayor of Busan. It soon began to add up. The Jeon's came from Busan, they had certainly many politicians on their payroll, and it seemed the mayor was no exception. What kind of deal though?

The cog wheels in Jia's brain began turning, slowly at first, but steadily they gained their pace. Busan was a seaside province, it had a port, which meant trade. Things that can are imported into the country, food, technology, textiles...weapons...drugs...raw materials, practically anything.

"I've heard that Han Jaesuk's mistress is a fan of historical artists, she's also here tonight," the man beside her chimed, reeling her out of her thoughts.

'Huh? Was I thinking out loud?'

"She's a fan of Vangogh, and it happens that a few his famous sunflower paintings are in the next room— so what's your name?" He tilted his head, changing the subject.

Jia narrowed her eyes at the older man, still speaking to Taehyung, and noticed a younger woman beside him, his arm wrapped around her waist. How did she miss that? Her spirits fell when she realised he was right, and the excitement from finally getting a step closer to Jeon Jungkook dissipated. "Seo Jia." She answered the stranger, leaning in to eavesdrop, "what's yours?"

The only reason she had stayed next to this man for so long was so that she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb, simply leaning into people's conversations. It was a perfect cover. It bothered her that he kept on speaking to her, causing her to huff in irritation. All her focus went towards Taehyung, one of the strongest, in terms of Power, members of the family. Who would know if she'd get the chance to get so close again.

Suddenly, a pair of lips gently grazed the sensitive skin of her lobe, sending waves of shivers wild down her spine. The heat of his breath forced goosebumps to rise along her neck and arms, as if the thin erected hairs stood guard against his fervid infiltration. Her head whipped back, with such force, she winced at the spike of pain that raced down her spine. For the first time that night, she allowed her eyes to drown in the depths of his. A shallow gasp scaped her mouth as she let her eyes wander across his features, admiring the way flecks of brown and orange floated in the sea of black.

Just who was this man, and why was his presence affecting her so much?

She cleared her throat, turning her face back to continue her observation. "Why are you so close?"

"Jeon Jungkook." At that moment, her breath hitched and she stumbled. Feet tripping over one another, Jia could already feel her body loosing its balance when a strong pair of arms wrapped fully around her waist. She was now flush against his chest, breathing heavily as her eyes betrayed her and glanced to see his expression.

Regaining her senses, she quickly pushed him away, straightening herself. "What did you say?"

"Hm?" The man, raised his eyebrows.

"You said a name, what did you say, I don't think I heard well." She firmly pressed on. Her heart thudded, and havoc began to stir inside her head. There's no way Jeon Jungkook would come tonight, to her of all people, without protection, without his mask, without anything, unless...he knew. He knew she was investigating him.

"Easy tiger," the man mused, the corner of his lip quirking attractively. "I heard you mumbling that name earlier— why so defensive? Is he a crush?" He teased.

Not knowing what else to say, Jia glared. "That's none of your business, who he is to me." The red tint on the tops of her ears gave away the wrong type of message. "I'm leaving now." It was far too dangerous now. Never in her life had she fumbled like this, during a mission and the regret, anger and disappointment was slowly gathering in the centre of her heart. Even the smallest mistake, was a liability and risked the last eighteen months she spent on this case. Rubbing her temples, she grabbed her clutch and strutted away, leaving the man laughing to himself.

"Relax Jia, you can have him, I'm not interested." He called out, snickering. As soon as she disappeared from his view, any traces of the Cheshire grin on his lips vanished.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

YA'LL I DIDN'T EXPECT IT TO GET SO LONG, EVEN AFTER PROMISING I'D STICK TO SHORTER CHAPTERS, AND MORE FREQUENT UPDATES.

SADLY I NEEDED TO GET ALL THE EVENTS FOR THIS ONE SETTING IN, SO HERE WE ARE NOW!!

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!