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CHAPTER TWELVE
• sᴜғғᴇʀɪɴɢ •

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The stress and anxiety are never-ending. There's not a day you don't cry. There's not a day you don't wait by your phone. There's not a day you don't think of him.

That's what not hearing about Jungkook for the past two weeks does to you. It also makes your senses more alert, but not in a good way.

You get jumpy whenever you hear a knock at the door or your phone rings because you don't know if it'll be a bad guy, a good guy, or Jungkook.

"The number you are–"

Why do you still try? You don't even know the answer to that, but it's a question you ask yourself every day.

The boys have ended all contact with you, so you couldn't call them either. You had stopped by Jungsik's house a few times. All times your request to seeing him was declined because either he wasn't home or he didn't want to speak to you.

You just wanted to talk to him, make sure Jungkook was alive and well, but he didn't even tell you that. You needed closure, you needed to know if he was okay, but there was no way in knowing.

Your hands are in your hair as you rest your elbows on your knees. You wipe away your tears, but more are welcomed.

You walk into the kitchen and to the medicine cabinet, taking out pain relievers. You take two pills to help with the pounding in your head.

A sudden ring at the gate startles you. You set your glass down and dry your face. You walk over to the camera by the kitchen door to see a guy in a luxurious car. You press on the speak button on the intercom beside the camera.

"What do you want?"

"Good evening. There's something I need to talk to you about. It involves your boyfriend."

You scoff, "How do I know you're not an asshole trying to kill me."

"You don't," The man shrugs. "I guess this is a trust test."

You take a deep breath in and press the open button.

"Good choice." The man says before driving his car up the driveway.

You open a drawer of the table beside the couch and take out the Smith & Wesson 686 Jungkook had given you for your protection months ago. You raise up your shirt and tuck it in behind your back just how Jungkook always did.

Soon enough, there's a knock on the door. You fix your shirt and go to open it. A fairly tall guy stands on the opposite side of you.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. My name is Kang Chulmin," He introduces himself.

—

"Did something happen to Jungkook?" You ask the man sitting on the couch.

"Do you know about the money Jungkook owes?" He looks up at your standing figure.

"No. I don't know anything about his business or his mafia life."

"I guess he was too scared to ask his father for money, so he asked me. And, well, the grace period for him to pay is over, but the money is nowhere to be seen."

"He's dead. I'm pretty sure he won't deliver your money anytime soon." You keep up the lie you've been telling...what you hope is a lie.

Chulmin chuckles, "That's where you're wrong. I know he's in hiding, Y/N, and it won't hurt me to announce that. Although, it will hurt him. I'm sure Howon would love to finish what he started. He and Hojun had a very strong father-son bond."

"How do you–"

"I know everything," He says. "Now back to business."

You roll your eyes and swallow the lump in your throat, "How much does he owe you?"

"Fifty-six million wons including interest," Chulmin reveals.

"Fifty-six million?!"

"The only problem is that I don't know where Jungkook is hiding, so I can't go claim my money, but that's why I'm here to see you, his beloved girlfriend."

"You want me to pay back the fifty-six million wons?" He nods. "How on earth could I pay you back all that money?"

"Since you have such an... elegant air about you," He looks at you from head to toe, making you grow uncomfortable. "I have the perfect way to settle this easily."

You scoff, "If you want me to sleep with you–"

"I don't," He interrupts. "Have you heard of the club 'Bomul'?"

Bomul was a secret strip club only mafias and gangs knew about. The people who went there snorted cocaine and had their way with the strippers.

"I own it and I'm currently looking for a stripper. Work there for a month and you can at least pay off the interest due."

You don't say anything and he knows your answer is gonna be no.

"If you don't, you can pay off the fifty-six million wons in the next month since your boyfriend is gone," Chulmin induces. "And if you don't do that, I swear we'll find Jungkook and kill him in front of your eyes then probably kill you after."

Chulmin smirks when he sees it in your face that his vile persuasion has worked.

"If I work there for a month, I can pay off the interest due?"

"It's not too bad, huh?" Chulmin raises an eyebrow at you.

You exhale deeply, "But I won't sleep with anyone and I'm not changing my mind about that."

Chulmin laughs, "Those are all rumors. Club guests don't rape the strippers, and if they do, they'll get their brains blown out. Strippers pleasure the guests for more money. Not our fault they're so money hungry they'll suck dick and sleep with them for extra cash."

You think for a moment. You didn't want to be a stripper, but you also didn't have the money. Then if you didn't pay it, Jungkook would die and you had no doubts about Chulmin finding Jungkook.

"When do I start?" You ask, voice fragile.

Chulmin bites his bottom lip seductively, "I like the sound of that."

He stands up from the couch and walks over to you, circling around your frozen figure as he looks you up and down.

"I see why Jungkook loves you." He comments.

A shiver goes down your spine and you close your eyes, tears threatening to leave them. You feel a pair of hands cup your face and it's thumbs caress your cheekbones.

"Open your eyes," Chulmin orders and you do. "There's no need to cry. We'll take good care of you and after a month, you're done."

His right hand's thumb traces your bottom lip and he tries to slip it into your mouth, but you take a step back. He chuckles.

"I agreed, so you can go now." You tell him sternly.

Chulmin takes out a card from his suit pocket and places it down on the coffee table, "The address to the club and my phone number is on there. Stop by tomorrow to meet the girls and learn a few things. You start in two days, so be ready. And here," He sets down money on the table. "Buy yourself some sexy lingerie."

Chulmin walks towards the living room door, but stops, "And don't try to run," He smirks. "It never works and it'll only end up bad for you."

• • • •

"I need to see her!" Jungkook booms in anger. "I need to fucking see her!"

"I can't let you do that."

Jungkook paces back and forth, "Why the fuck can't you let me see Y/N! I need to be with her!"

"Jungkook, I know you think this is because I hate her, but it's for your own safety."

"Maybe," Jungkook's jaw clenches. "But I know you're gloating. Because you never liked her. Because you never wanted us to be together!"

"Yes, I never liked her! And yes, I never wanted you two together, but I don't gloat when my son is suffering!"

Jungkook takes advantage of the closed doors to take out his gun from its usual spot. He points it at his father's head.

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?" Jungsik speaks nonchalantly.

"Shut up."

"Kill me?"

"Shut up."

"C'mon Jungkook! Be the one that causes my death!"

"Shut up!" Jungkook shouts, tears building up in his eyes. "Shut the fuck up!"

He lets out shaky breaths as his vision becomes more and more blurry because of the tears.

"All I wanted was her! Y/N! And you took her from me!" Tears begin to race down his cheeks. "All I wanted was to be happy! And you took that away from me!"

His lips tremble as he cries, the sound of suffering echoing throughout the office. Jungkook looks down, the gun still raised, but only for a few seconds before he lowers it.

He squats down and the streams of tears flow faster than his own heartbeat. Sobs escape his lips through the suppressed sound of hiccups.

Jungsik hasn't seen his son cry this much ever since he was eight after he took away his precious toy car. To say he was filled with guilt was an understatement.

He stands and slowly makes his way towards Jungkook. He leans forward and pats his son's back.

"I'm sorry." Jungsik apologizes before leaving Jungkook alone in the office.

• • • •

Jungkook opens the plastic bag, but before he gets the chance to spill out the substance on his desk, Batam takes it from him.

"What the hell?"

"Mr. Jungkook, you're going to kill yourself with this stuff."

"First off, I told you to address me by only my first name," Jungkook grabs the bag back. "Secondly, why would you care if I don't? I have nothing else to live for anyway."

"There's so much more to live for, Jungkook. You're young! You have such a long life left."

"I'm a mafia man, Batam. I won't live long," Jungkook pauses from lining the cocaine and looks up at the standing driver, "And I don't wanna live much longer if I can't spend this life with Y/N."

"You really love this girl, huh?" Batam asks as Jungkook sniffs in the line.

He comes up and wipes his nose, chuckling, "Love in an understatement."

"Then I'll help you get back to her."

Jungkook quickly turns his head to him, "What?"

"The boys don't and can't help because they work for your father and he'll kill them, but I don't work for him nor do I care if he kills me."

"You'll really help me?"

"Yes." Batam nods.

Jungkook scoffs out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners from his huge grin. He stands and pulls Batam into a hug.

"Thank you," He whispers. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," Batam pats his back. "I would do anything for you, boy."

I would do anything for my own blood—for my own son.

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