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He leaned back and looked at her seriously. "Or I'll bring you to my apartment and lock you in there every day."

Y/N gasped. "You can't do that."

"I can do whatever the hell I want, and I do. You're not going to work for the supermarket. You're going to work for me, and you're going to do it with a smile on your face, remembering Anaya."

"Throwing my friend in my—"

"Anaya would want me to take care of you. Stop being a hard-ass fucking female and learn to live with it. You're coming home with me. We'll stop by your place first to collect some things."

"I've got rent to pay. I can't just leave."

"I'll deal with your landlord." Jungkook dug into his food, already making plans in his head. This was how it could work. She wouldn't start to think of it as charity or anything else. He was concerned for her, and this was the only way to keep her safe.

"Using Anaya wasn't right."

"What do you think she'd say to you right now?"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, making him feel like the worst bastard in the world. He did love Anaya in his own way he thinks. They had been together for over a year, —until Y/N came into the picture.

"Fine," Y/N said, her voice tight with frustration. "I'll come to work for you willingly. But you better not talk to me like crap. I'm only doing this for Anaya."

For the rest of their meal, neither of them spoke. Jungkook didn't mind the silence. It gave him the chance to watch her. He saw the way she struggled to get her emotions under control, the tears she fought to hide as she looked away from him.

Once they finished eating, Jungkook helped her into the car, his hands gentle but firm. He then drove toward her place, his expression unreadable. When they arrived, instead of letting her go inside, he took her key without a word and entered her small apartment himself.

Inside, he moved quickly, paying the landlord for the next month's rent. As he gathered her clothes and personal items, he noticed the photos around her apartment—pictures of all three of them: Y/N, Jungkook, and Anaya. One photo surprised him: a picture of just him and Y/N. He paused but quickly pushed the memories aside and focused on packing.

When he returned to the car with two cases and some personal items, Y/N was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest. "I could have packed my own bag," she said, her voice edged with irritation.

Jungkook's expression hardened slightly. "You wouldn't have come back out. I'm not stupid, Y/N. Don't treat me like I am." His tone was low and serious. Without waiting for her to respond, he gave the order for the driver to move away.

Y/N turned her face toward the window, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, ignoring him. Jungkook watched her from the corner of his eye, his own hands tightening into fists. He needed to remember that Y/N wasn't his to touch, no matter how much he wanted to.

The first few weeks working for Jungkook were a nightmare. Sleeping in the spare bedroom, Y/N tried not to get in his way. But no matter how hard she tried, he was always there. She found herself bumping into him even when she made a conscious effort to avoid him.

She tried waking up a little later than he did, but still, she'd find herself running into him. Jungkook refused to leave for work until he was sure she was okay. His actions were sweet, though in a slightly annoying way. He insisted that she join him for breakfast, where she had no choice but to serve him

At first, Y/N hated the intimacy of serving him breakfast. But as the days passed, she realized there was little intimacy involved—just routine. Jungkook made sure she ate with him before he left for work.

The hardest part of being alone in his apartment was finding something to do. The place was spotless, leaving her with little more than dusting to keep busy. When it came to dinner, though, Y/N found her element. Jungkook didn't criticize her cooking, and when he wouldn't tell her what he wanted, she simply let inspiration guide her in the kitchen.

They fell into a routine—he would talk about his work, ask about her day, and then they'd sit together at night and watch a movie.

Three weeks into her stay at his place, Y/N started to feel more at home. She glanced across the kitchen counter at Jungkook, who was standing by the window, looking out over the city with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a phone in the other. She wondered why he even bothered coming home sometimes—all he seemed to do was work.

Stirring the tomato sauce, she added a dash of pepper before tasting it. Satisfied, she dropped in the seafood and gave it a quick stir. Once it was nearly cooked, she added the spaghetti.After plating their meal, Y/N grabbed her crutches and made her way over to Jungkook. She had tried to master carrying plates to the table, but after causing a mess and staining his white carpet, she had given up. She tapped him on the shoulder to let him know dinner was ready. He nodded, and she turned to take her seat at the table. She placed the crutches beside her chair and waited for him to bring their food.

"I'm sorry about that. Business never stops," Jungkook said, taking his seat.

"You own the company. Of course it never stops," Y/N replied.

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Why would you say that?"

She shrugged. "If I had my own company, I'd struggle to leave for an hour, let alone a day. It must be hard finding time to relax."

"You're the first person to see it like that," he admitted.

"I don't mind how many calls you have to make. We're not a couple. You don't need to explain anything to me." She twirled the spaghetti around her fork and looked at him.

"This is good," Jungkook commented.

"I do have one question," Y/N said.

"Go ahead."

"If you still need to be making calls, why do you bother coming home? I mean, I know this is your place and all, but why come home if all you're going to do is be on the phone?" She bit her lip, realizing she might have said too much.