Chapter Twenty-One . . .|
-are you a fan of horror movies?

     "Get up. Time to get you dressed." A foreign voice to Taehyung rings throughout the room. The aforementioned had a rough night getting comfortable and sleeping well. He ended up crying himself to sleep with how distraught he was. He felt exhausted; robbed of all his energy.

"I said," he heard again. "Get up!" That's when the blankest were ripped off of him and his left hand was tugged harshly.

Taehyung let out a sharp wince, choking on the breath that got caught up in his throat. "S-Stop! That hurts!" He complained.

The man pinched his lips in a taut line, unfazed with Taehyung's reaction. "Mr. Jung informed me to get you up." He replied.

The young and former CEO rubbed his hand. "I got it." He breathed out and pushed to his feet, looking to see what he assumed was a guard. "You can leave now."

"I'm your escort."

"You can wait outside, then."

"Mr. Kim, with no respect at all, you're in no position to give me orders. Get dressed or get punished, your choice." The guard glared, his time flat.

Taehyung gulped. He wanted to hold his ground but he had no idea how these guards and slaves were treated. He knew very well that Jeongguk would kill his men and beat them but by the tone he was given by the guard in front of him, he was unsure if they were punished. He recalled how Hoseok said he was the nicest mafia leader.

The young man pulled his sleep shirt from over his head, still using the discarded shirt to cover his bare chest. "Does Hoseok have anything he prefer I wear?"

"He prefers you wear clothes."

Taehyung ignored the sarcastic reply to him and went to his closet. He opened it, revealing an assortment of attires. His eyes scanned the clothing, a frown playing his lips.

He reached inside and pulled out a long silky red shirt. It reminded him of a dress, if he's being honest but he would much rather cover his slim body. Without a second thought, he slipped it over his head, removing his sleep pants to pull on black slacks.

"Hurry, Mr. Kim, I don't have all the time in the fucking world. I don't care if you dress like a clown or like a slut." The guard growled with irritation radiating all throughout his vowels. "Hurry. You're wasting Mr. Jung's time. This reflects on your behavior."

Taehyung was startled. He didn't like it here. At least at Jeon Undergrounds, he had Jimin who was rather nice and wasn't demanding, who was wanting to get him out of the mafia.

He didn't like he guards here.

Taehyung brushed away the thought, slipping on some socks and shoes over his feet. "Is this fine for your liking?" He asked sarcastically.

His sarcastic comment served him no good, the guard strode in front of him and grabbed on his collar. "Are you giving me a tone, kid? I don't know how they treated you outside the mafia but an arrogant little shit won't get you anywhere here. Try that shit again, I'll make your life hell."

The younger's eyes lit up with fear, staring at the guard who had him gripped in his hands. "I'm- I'm sorry!" He pushed from his lips, his voice seeming small and frail.

"More like it. You're too pretty to get your ass beat, to have your face beat in." Commented the guard with a cold expression. He wasn't hitting on him; no smirk on his ennui face. He was blunt and honest with him, his brows knit together in the middle. 

Taehyung felt uneasy, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was let go, the guard fixing his shirt. He grabbed his hands and cuffed them behind his back, soon adding a breathable bag over his face. "Be quiet while we walk to your next destination." Uttered the guard.

The CEO was aching with fear and anxiety. He was breathing heavy, his chest feeling compacted against his lungs.

The man and Taehyung walked down many different pathways, way too many to actually keep track of. His ears perked at the sound of locks clicking and a door pulling open.

"About time," said the mafia leader. "What took you so long to get here? My orders weren't that out of hand, were they?"

The guard scoffed. "Why don't you ask him?" With those words, he shoved Taehyung forcefully into the room, pushing him down to the floor. "He has a mouth and I don't appreciate it."

"Did I ask what you appreciated?" Hoseok retorted. "So help me, Mindee, do this again and you'll be punished. You can say goodbye to your balls if you think you're allowed to power over my prize." He warned, slamming the door in Mindee's face.

Hoseok would always make threats but this one seemed to hold a bit more truth than any other threat did. Mindee gulped, humming before he decided to turn away.

The mafia leader knelt down and helped the younger to his feet. "Forgive me. Next time I'll just come to your room." He offered a smile after removing the bag from his face. "He's always in a pissy mood but you don't deserve that treatment."

"Can I go home?" Taehyung asked weakly. "Y-You said you're nice . . ." He choked out. "Sir, I just . . . I want to go home. I won't tell anyone what I know."

"Taehyung," Hoseok began. "Are you a fan of horror movies?"

"Not e-exactly." The younger replied.

"Oh," he gave a slight nod. "Well, if you were, you would know that pleading to keep your mouth shut won't work." Hoseok informed, pulling the boy along to a seat. "Anyways," he began.

Taehyung wanted to just cry but he felt as if he had cried enough for freedom that he will never receive. He just wanted to be able to live a normal life again, he just wanted to be able to be free and not cuffed and treated like garbage. Taehyung was thankful for the fact he wasn't abused and thrown into a cell, knowing damn well that happens.

He just wanted a breath of fresh air and to run his business rightfully. He just wanted to live with Seokjin and see his father. He wanted to hear the city cars beep and the curse words fly in the air like no one's business. Taehyung missed the sweet taste of his apple juice that Seokjin always poured for him with every morning, the, 'Good morning, Tae, what's today's agenda' his brother would greet him with.

Taehyung hated the fact that he had to live his life being an owned toy to the mafia. Whether the chances of him ever having the taste of freedom linger on his body was slim, Taehyung would milk every percentage of a chance he had left in hopes he's able to escape.

Even if it were a one percent with such little success.

***

"Fuck," Jeongguk groaned. He messed up again, only having one side all red but the rest of the Rubik's cube jumbled in multicolor. "Mr. Kim would have it solved in three minutes." He mumbled bitterly to himself, rolling his eyes. He chucked to toy at the wall.

He couldn't describe the aching pit dug deep in his gut. He knew why he felt like such but didn't understand exactly why.

Jeongguk sat straight in his chair. He felt bored for the first time ever running his mafia. He always had something to do, always was running around to make sure every place was secure and that his steady pace of income from selling and robbing was dropping in.

Yet here he sat wishing he had a friend to talk to.

Jeongguk fumed with anger because cold-hearted mafia leaders shouldn't feel alone. They have everything they want and Jeon — the RICHEST and BIGGEST mafia leader — was alone to think to himself with crumbling emotions.

With the clicks of his skinny, slender fingers, he pushed on a few buttons, leaning close to his phone.

"Send Park in here." Jeongguk uttered, pulling back. He waited six seconds before hearing a soft 'okay' from a lady. He didn't care for who responded, as long as the order was followed.

He tapped his index finger on the wood of his desk, tonguing his cheek to perhaps ease his nerves and the ugly feeling he couldn't stop growing.

He didn't know why he called Jimin in here, maybe they could go grab a coffee, go out for lunch, whatever it was just to get Jeongguk out of his stuffy office room.

"Jeon?" Jimin's voice traveled to Jeongguk's ears, the younger looking at Jimin with a dead look. "You needed me?"

"What were you doing?" Jeongguk asked, standing as he grabbed his cellphone and coat, slipping the coat over his muscular arms. It dangled far to his knees, his fingers working to slip the buttons through the slits of the jacket.

Jimin cocked a brow ever so slightly. "I was cleaning out Mr. Kim's closet. I just about finished. Why? Is there errands we have to run?"

"Drop the formality, Jimin." Jeongguk's voice dropped an octave. "We're going to Kim Empires."

"Wait, Jeongguk, why? It's an empty building." Jimin frowned.

"I liked it there. We can stop by for some coffee while we're at it, maybe pay Seokjin a visit." Jeongguk shrugged, wrapping his left arm around Jimin's shoulders, leading him out of the cold office room. "Go grab what you need and report back to my car, 'kay? Thanks." He forced a small and ugly smile, the fake-part not complimenting how attractive he really was.

Jimin couldn't get a word out, his lips pursed with question as the mafia leader turned on his heels, parting ways. He sucked in a deep breath, going the opposite way to retrieve his jacket.