YESOL'S POV:

The soft morning sunlight streamed into the room through the windows and I stirred as the maids' gentle shaking roused me from my sleep.

I yawned, my eyes fluttering open, and then gasped as my weak body ached from the events of last night.

A jolt of pain shot up under my jaw making me groan, I touched the spot, it brought back the memories of last night as I traced my fingers on the bite marks he left, which I guessed turned purple and red by judging the intensity of pain. He bit me like a monster hungry for blood and flesh -that beast bastard.

His last kiss from yesterday rang under my ears, the sound of his lips against my skin washing over me like a tide of arousal accompanied by disgust.

Arousal? What the heck?!

I felt a surge of anger mixed with disgust. How could I let him do that? How could I let him mark me? Why couldn't I stand up to him? I was furious at myself for allowing him to dominate me so completely, for being so utterly weak in his presence.

My face immediately dropped at the realisation, he was the first thing coming to my mind as soon as I woke up and I despised it, disgusted by my own thought process.

His words, his touch, the way he looked at me, it all burned into my mind, a reminder of my own weakness.

He shouldn't be the one I think of early in the morning or anytime of the day, I shouldn't think of him at all actually.

But no matter what I tried, I couldn't shake him from my mind. He was a constant, a reality I couldn't escape, even in my own thoughts.

My heart felt heavy with the stark reality of my situation. I had no one else. No friends, no allies, just him. And I hated it. I hated that I was so entirely dependent on him, that he alone held my fate in his hands. I hated that I didn't have the power to resist him.

Why him though?

I inquired this to myself a lot, ever since I came here this was the only question that was whirling around my head like an annoying mosquito and yet there were no answers. It was irritating as hell, I didn't like the idea of being in his presence let alone working along with him.

But it was the only way of keeping his hands off me and having a partnership of equality than to submit myself to him as his mistress.

In that moment, I vowed that I would bide my time and observe him. Instead of being afraid, I could become something to be afraid of.

I would learn to be strong and independent, to break free from his control. Once I am capable of being on my own, I am going to leave him behind and find my own way.

This is a promise to myself!

I snapped out when the two court ladies took off the duvet from my body and helped my sit up on the bed.

"We're at your service, princess" they bowed in unison.

Their low gazes an interesting contrast to the stretched smiles on their faces, as if I was a royal here, as if they were showing their respect and fear to me despite the position I was in. Who even am I? Why am I being treated with this delicacy if I'm enslaved.

Slaves don't get to sleep on silk sheets, Yesol... a voice at the back of my head whispered to me.

I didn't even know when I fell asleep after that bastard left. He didn't even reply back to me, just scoffed and made his way out, as if he was mocking me, humiliating me for acting all tough when I had to kneel in the end.

This bedroom was a mess last night, I threw and tossed away everything and anything that touched my hands, the bedsheet, the duvet, the vase and pots, the clothes and sheets, everything.

I let all my pent up rage out as his strong grip on my wrist, his taunting voice in my ear, and the feeling of helplessness haunted me right after he was gone. All the resentment and hatred I had bottled up towards my family and especially him, came to the surface, with each passing moment.

I was engulfed by my bitter past, all because of him, he made those horrifying memories come to surface and flow over my wounds like a tide of salt over fresh cuts.

He broke me from top to bottom, from within and outside, from every inch and he enjoyed every second of torturing me. The way he smiled like a psychopath as he counted the reasons why I was so broken and I begged him to stop but he didn't, he just grinned at me, he beamed at my pain because he was finding bliss in my fragility.

He knew I was dependent, he knew I needed support to lean on and he loved that he was the only one left to provide it for me.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I aimlessly stared at the red cuts on my palm as I sat frozen in the center of my soft bed, surrounded by the court ladies and the maids.

"You need to get ready for the day, let us help you" the court lady nearest to my bed suggested, her voice gentle and laced with formality.

I looked up at her, her gaze still low, touching the floor. I quietly traced my gaze across the room, there were eight of them, eight unfamiliar faces ready to be at my service and do whatever I wanted yet nothing about it was comforting.

"And who sent you?" I asked, my voice a bit tight and suspicious, a cue of anger as I already knew what their answer would be.

"His highness, princess" she replied, her voice carrying respect but also a touch of hesitation, unsure how I would react to the mention of Jungkook.

Her words struck me like a cold wave, confirming my suspicions. His highness, my tormentor. He was the one who had assigned these ladies, a stark reminder of the control he exerted over every aspect of my life, even something as intimate as choosing my personal attendants.

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his power, his gaze that seemed to follow me everywhere I went. I felt trapped, unable to escape his influence, even within the four walls of my bedroom.

"Did he send you all to help me or keep an eye on me?" I gritted my teeth as I spoke sarcastically.

The maids exchanged nervous glances, uncertain how to answer. One of them, a slightly older woman, stepped forward with hesitation.

"His Majesty wants us to ensure your well-being and comfort," she replied, as if choosing her words carefully.

I clenched my fists tighter, a sense of fury rising up in me. I scoffed, my voice trembling with anger.

"Of course, his concern is entirely for my well-being, not to keep a watchful eye on me and report my every move to him, right?" my sarcasm was laced with bitterness.

The maids remained silent, their eyes lowered, unsure how to answer. Their silence was all the answer I needed, confirming my suspicions. My anger boiled over, a wave of fury threatening to consume me.

I threw away my duvet and got up from my bed, "Where is he?!"

The maids exchanged nervous glances once again, a hint of fear in their eyes, before the young girl, a faint quiver in her voice, spoke up.

"He's in the torture room currently" she said, her words laced with hesitation. They all looked at me, waiting to see my possible reaction, aware that I was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Take me there!" I ordered.

The maids exchanged a brief look of surprise and alarm, "Your highness, his majesty wants you to get dressed appropriately before meeting him and he would not be pleased to know that you went out in your night clothes. Please don't be stubborn" one of them pleaded.

That's when I noticed my clothes, they were changed from last night, perhaps after I fell asleep. I was wearing a thin silk robe which hugged my body and accurately displayed my every curve and the soft sight of my n!pples under the exquisite material.

"Why?!" I took gradual and heavy steps towards her, my brows narrowed at her words which easily offended me, "Why should I get dressed for him? To look all pretty like a doll just to please his eyes, huh?! Tell me..."

The maids were taken aback by my sudden burst of emotion, their eyes wide with alarm. The young girl shook her head quickly, trying to placate me, but I felt the fury coursing through my veins, and I could barely contain myself.

The thought of him seeing me as nothing more than a pretty play thing, a decoration to be dressed up and please his eyes. A decoration with a tag of being his beautiful mistress for the rest of the world and nothing more offended me deeply.

Did you really believe what he said about giving you power?! Seriously, Yesol?

I couldn't think anymore.

Why should I do as he pleases?

I don't care! Not anymore.

His beautiful mistress? Fine. But just to please his eyes? Oh Jeon Jungkook, you'll burn when you see your personal plaything being displayed infront of the world and the view of your burning jealousy would be an alluring sight to watch.

I don't care who sees me, neither do I care about the lingering gazes on my figure; that would've been the concern if I was just myself. But at this instant, was I my own self?

I was his.

I was his thing, right? And as far as I know, things don't have any kind of emotions like respect or shame; I lost them yesterday when he broke me.

That narcissist bastard wouldn't be pleased to share his view, would he?

Jeon fvcking Jungkook, you can bend me according to your will all you want and I'd still rise just as stubborn infront of you. You don't know what I actually am. You unfolded this version of me, so you will be the one facing the consequences and I promise you will hate every moment of this.

As I stormed out of the room, they all followed, my robe floating backwards, sticking more to my skin as I moved forward tearing the air with heavy steps, my hair in disarray, my face flushed with defiance and anger. I was on a war path, and nothing could stop me from confronting him, not even my disheveled appearance.

A group of four ladies, were coming towards my direction from the opposite way, they had no idea of my presence in the hallway as they were chatting. However, for some reason I didn't even care, I think I lost my manners or I was too furious to care about anyone else right now, I just made my way from between them as I broke their circle.

The ladies gasped in shock and scandalized my appearance, their faces filled with surprise and a hint of judgement. I ignored their whispers, walking past them without a second glance. Their stares followed me, I felt their eyes on my disheveled frame, the whispers spreading like wildfire.

<pov shift to third person>

"Who the he-lll??" Bora stumbled, her eyes wide with shock, this was the first time someone dared to push her.

The other three gasped in unison looking in the direction of Yesol, their hands dramatically resting on their chests as none of them received such kind of treatment ever. They were equally annoyed, who even was she to push them like that and just walk away without apologizing?

"The material of her robe looks expensive. Is she.....the mistress?!!!" Jin Ae exclaimed with her guess catching the attention of others too.

"You mean, Lord Jungkook's new mistress?" Kyung hi questioned, Yesol was out of sight by now.

"Forget that...did anyone notice how inappropriately she was dressed?!" Ki young mumbled, her brain clouded with the uncomfortable image of Yesol.

Jin Ae: "I couldn't even see her face nicely"

Ki young: "So now, nameless mistresses have more privileges than the concubines?!"

Bora: "That witch! Why was she glowing like a sunflower?!"

Kyung hi: "What dark magic did she used on his majesty in just a few days that he is refusing us every night now? Huh?!"

"There's only one way" Jin Ae suggested, "Let's follow her"

<end of third person's pov>

The moment I burst into the torture room, he was sitting in the centre of the room, his back to me, completely engrossed as his attention was fixed on the fire burning inside a metal cage as he rubbed the tip of hand canon (gun) on his jawline.

The room smelled like blood and rotten corpses, and something more disgusting which I couldn't quite define. And the more I looked around from the doorway the more deadly things my eyes found.

Between the staring gazes of his men and the guards I found bloody, cursed, unknown torturing objects which filled my heart with terror.

But among these the most horrifying one were the brain wrecking screams, which passed a shiver down my spine. They were human screams filled with agonizing pain and helplessness.

I curiously travelled my eyes across the room and my heart dropped in the pit of my stomach when I found the location of that terror-the burning metal cage.

He was burning people alive?!

The sight of the burning metal cage was like a punch to the gut, a visceral reminder of the cruelty that he was capable of. The screams filled my ear but him? He didn't even flinch, he was watching that horror unfolding before his eyes with a wicked, satisfied grin.

He was a criminal. No, more than that actually. He was a Satan thrown out from hell. Because only a monster can find bliss in such a scenario.

He turned slowly, his gaze meeting mine, his expression shifting from surprise to something dark and dangerous. I was met with a silence that hung in the air, oppressive and thick.

My breath caught in my throat as he took me in, my disheveled appearance and lack of attire in stark contrast to his composed, authoritative presence.

But I tried to act unshaken, I was here with a purpose and I shouldn't lose my focus by being bothered with his business.

But the screams of terror in the background were impossible to ignore, a constant reminder of the suffering he caused, of his ability to inflict such agony, and it made it harder to hold onto my anger and defiance.

Cause unlike him, I was normal. I had emotions and feelings, I could differentiate between wrong and right, I could feel bliss and pain, I was known to one's suffering and struggle, unlike him...

His smirk seemed to grow wider as his eyes met mine, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he read the fear in my eyes.

"Don't be scared. I'm just roasting them, just like they were roasting the lamb yesterday" he scoffed, nonchalant as always.

I stared at him, my eyes wide, realizing that he was doing this to them because of me. They were being punished for something I had done. Just because... I made an attempt to escape.

The weight of the situation sunk in, the realization of what was happening because of me. These men were being tortured because they'd failed to keep an eye on me when I tried to escape. It was my actions that brought on this punishment upon them, my audacity and desire for freedom putting them in harm's way.

The screams of pain and agony a haunting melody of my fault. I felt a deep pang of guilt wash over me, the weight of my actions heavy on my shoulders.

But I didn't let my emotions kick in. Sure, it was scary and I was guilty, yet this just served my anger. How can he be so cruel?!

He watched me take a step towards him, the smirk still playing on his lips, his eyes fixed on me with an almost predatory intensity.

"I almost fell for your trap when you promised me power" I spoke authoritatively as I glared. "You just wanted me to look pretty for you and a show-piece for your people, no?"

He chuckled, that twisted smirk still on his lips. His eyes burned with an amused glint, taking in every inch of my inappropriate apperance infront of everyone and he was not happy at all.

He stood up from his chair, keeping the gun on the table decorated with other different types of gun and gun powder next to him.

He took in my frame as he towered over me, his dark eyes had nothing to give yet everything to snatch away, his fascinated smirk a stark contrast to the anger that rose within him as his eyes bore over each curve of mine.

And the jealousy in those emotionless eyes satisfied me like nothing else. The satisfaction was like a reward for all the times I cried infront of him and he laughed at me.

"Who says you can't look pretty and kick an ass at the same time?" he scoffed, titling his head to his left as he exposed the freshly printed tattoo on the opposite side of his neck.

A gothic tattoo. A mouth open to bite and sharp fangs eager to dig inside the skin, like a witch or a vampire ready to suck blood while three bats around the set of teeth complimented the design like its protectors.

I didn't make it obvious that his new tattoo certainly caught my attention. But isn't that the same spot where I bit him last night?

So what was he trying to prove? That I'm a witch? A hideous being?!

I felt a surge of righteous anger, my fists balling with tension. How dare he suggest I was a witch, comparing me to that symbol, making me a part of his twisted artistry?

"Like it?" he grinned proudly.

He even caught my secret glances, but that was not my concern right now. I didn't like how my focus was shifting from one place to another, from one topic to another, all because of this guy, all because of how wrong and sadistic he was that everything about him and his life made my blood boil.

"Stop playing with me, you bastard! I'm not your plaything!!" I shouted, finally pouring my heart out.

He pulled my wrist and I collided with his muscular chest. I put my hands in between our bodies to push him but couldn't, he didn't even budge but instead he turned my hands at my back and closed the gap between us.

"Plaything?" a low scoff left his mouth as he enjoyed watching me struggle in his grip. "I never defined you like that, but for sure, you are my Queen"

I didn't like how close we were. My body was pressed against his and I didn't like how he was feeling my skin graze against his body. The silk wasn't failing to cover what was undercover, my peaks were more obvious now, frankly arose due to heat and how roughly I struggled against him.

"The type of woman who commands a room with her presence alone; a quiet confidence in her that never begs for attention, yet all eyes are drawn to her" he held my hands at the back with his one strong hand, making my back arc and with the other he stroked my face, his voice soft yet intimidating, laced with obsession.

I hissed at his touch, pissed at this proximity.

"Her strength isn't loud or brash; rather, it's in the calm and steady fire she holds within. She carries herself with a refined grace, but there's a spark in her eyes that promises she's not just a beautiful face" his possessive touch, a slap to my face. I didn't crave his touch but I couldn't resist how soft it felt against my bruised skin.

"Beneath her poised exterior lies a fierce will and a rebellious streak that's ready to challenge anyone who dares to underestimate her, even me" with that he held my chin in his between his fingers as he pinned my gaze with his fierce, dark one.

Another thing to hate about him-the way he defines me.

Why did his description for me felt so familiar yet so unknown to self I knew?

He could read my eyes, my mind, my actions, my very existence itself. I didn't know myself as much as he knew me. I couldn't quite get how, was he beyond intelligent or was he some natural being who could see through people? I don't know. But for sure, he was an irresistible mind fvcker.

My eyes tried to read his, but as always there was nothing to seek from them, he was an intelligent being who knew how to cover his emotions. And once again, I was failing to keep my focus.

"What? Is my divine darling shocked that her beast knows more about her than she knows about herself?" he chuckled, mocking me once again, mocking my eyes which failed to hide my emotions .

"Did my divine darling not expect the accuracy?" a proud grin, I turned my face away with shame. This is not why I came here!

"Were there any men around the palace when my dear princess was trying to catch my attention?" he asked the maids who were still standing outside the room. I felt his deep breaths fanning over my neck, a hint of excitement in them.

"Excuse me? I was not- " offended I faced him and tried to explain but he cut me off in between.

"Were there?"

"N-no, your majesty" they answered in unison.

Rude bastard.

And with a sudden twist he turned me around effortlessly, my back slamming against his frame so quickly that my vision was blurred temporarily and before I could process why he did that, he lifted my arms between his and wrapped my finger around the trigger of his pistol and pressed it.

He shot the guards infront of us without warning, I shivered at the sharp and echoing sound of the gunshots.

"I'm a jealous man, Yesol" he declared with each shot, his voice velvety and a dangerous, threatening whisper as he continued killing the men one by one, the trigger pressed against my index finger heated. His painful grip on my finger, a pure agony, "You were right. I don't share anything that's mine, then be it a mere sight!"

My heart raced, almost at a speed that would make one collapse. The fear of people dying infront of my eyes was real but the thought of me being their killer was haunting.

He turned me around with him, throwing away the gun in my hands as he picked up another from the table. I watched the guards infront of us tremble with fear but none of them dared to run out.

"Stand straight!!" he ordered loud and furious, and those poor men followed. And again, without any efforts he made the shots; I made the shots.

"If you want to see what really happens when someone puts their eyes on what belongs to me then be my guest, Yesol"

One. Two. Three. Four-the shots were made mercilessly. The smell of blood, the screams and gasps were a reminder of my stupidity, of what I've done without even wanting to. My vision was not clear anymore, my warm tears waiting on the edge prevented me from seeing the cruelty which was unfolding ahead of me.

"You are my Queen. But I am your owner, darling. Every inch of your skin is my property and only I seek the pleasure of looking you in the eyes"

The gun fell down with the last kill, my hands numb as my entire body froze and paralyzed, my teeth chattered as the echo of gunshots travelled through my veins like a rhythm, my mind blank, the faces of the dead guards flashing before my eyes, absolutely no thoughts or emotions worked at the moment. I tried to breathe through this mess, everything slowly but finally making sense.

He rested his hands on my hips, tenderly rubbing them over the curve of my waist. He kissed my neck, his tongue swirled around the same bite mark from last night, I threw my head back on his shoulder with a gasp.

I know I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have given him the pleasure of my submission to his touch. But my brain was too numb to protest against his actions.

"I knew you were a professional killer" he pecked me one last time before he left me in the centre of this haunted room.

The words he said earlier eventually began to come to the surface, reminding me of my place yet once again. I was so pathetic even as something which belonged to him. I held no position of my own. Was I really an object?

Just how easily he used me to murder his men and left me when he was done, as if it was my burden to take care of.

Jealousy his and consequences mine.

That devil bastard!

I picked up a gun from the table and pointed at his back. I didn't know how this thing worked or why I pointed the gun at him, but my emotions were too messed up to care about it.

"Jeon Jungkook!!" I shouted my lungs out, my voice vulnerable but mighty.

Even after all this I didn't let myself fear him, instead I despised him more.

He turned at once, his brows shot up at my boldness as his lips curved at its corner. He walked back to me as I pointed the gun straight at him, dominant and fearless as always.

All I could read was adoration and pride for me written all over his pretty face. His eyes never left mine.

And when he came closer, he wrapped his one hand over mine which held the pistol and kissed it softly, his action a loud declaration of his possession over me, but that soft kiss-full of admiration.

I felt him smirk against the back of my hand before he backed away, but his hold on my hand was still. He knew I wouldn't shoot, but I don't think it would've been any different even if I wanted to shoot him; he would've still come closer and taken the shot.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad, just like the colour red"

He promised.

"Bold and tempting. Such a beautiful mess of emotions"

And I wanted to slap his face.

**********

A/n: Yesol creating a dictionary of "fifty shades of bastard" be like:

Anyone wondering what his tattoo looks like?

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