🥀73. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬

Enjoy 🌸

Next Day

The soft glow of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, painting the room in muted golds and creams.

Jungkook stirred first, her lashes fluttering as consciousness pulled her from the depths of sleep. Her body felt unusually warm, cocooned in the heavy duvet, and for a moment, she relished the comfort. But then—she felt it.

A presence.

Her sleepy gaze flickered to the side, her breath hitching as she found herself face-to-face with Taehyung.

He lay there on his side, his dark hair tousled, lips slightly parted as he breathed. His long lashes formed soft shadows over his cheekbones and the sight was so disarmingly peaceful that Jungkook momentarily forgot how to be annoyed at his existence.

But then she noticed something else.

The pillows—her sacred barricade—had been breached.

One of them had fallen to the floor, leaving an open space between them. And Taehyung, in all his unfairly handsome, sleepy glory, was too close. Close enough that if she moved even an inch, their hands might brush.

Jungkook's breath caught in her throat.

No touching.

The curse.

Taehyung stirred then, his brows knitting together slightly before his eyes slowly opened. Sleepy charcoal met wide, startled ones, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Then—

"Why are you staring at me?" Taehyung's voice was a husky morning rasp, filled with drowsy delight.

Jungkook's eyes widened, and she instantly scooted back, almost toppling off the edge of the bed. "I wasn't staring! You were in my space!"

Taehyung blinking away the last remnants of sleep. He lifted a brow, his voice laced with laziness. "My space? This is our bed, Mrs. Kim."

Jungkook huffed, gripping the blanket tighter. "Then stay on your side of it!"

He exhaled a soft chuckle and stretched, the movement causing his fingers to brush the empty space between them—dangerously close but not quite touching. Jungkook's breath hitched.

Taehyung noticed. His smirk deepened. "You're acting like I'm some kind of danger to you."

Jungkook shot him a glare, though the pink dusting her cheeks ruined the effect. "You are a danger. One wrong move, and poof—we suffer the consequences."

Taehyung let out a hum, clearly enjoying her flustered state far too much. Soft golden light filtered through the curtains. The world outside was just beginning to stir, but inside, in the soft bubble of their bedroom, time seemed to move slower.

Jungkook lay on her side, her head nestled against the pillow, her dark hair spilling across the sheets like ink. Across from her, Taehyung mirrored her position, his body stretched out comfortably, one arm tucked under his head.

They were close—so close—but not close enough. Their hands hovered between them, inches apart, fingers idly moving in the air. A silent dance. Jungkook lifted her pinky first, curling it slightly. Taehyung mirrored her.

She raised her index finger next, and again, he followed.

A small, sleepy giggle escaped her lips. "You're just copying me."

Taehyung hummed, his dark eyes glinting as he watched her fingers move. "Maybe. Or maybe we just think alike, Mrs. Kim."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but didn't stop their little game. She traced invisible patterns in the air, and he matched, his gaze never leaving hers. The space between their hands was a breath, a distance that shouldn't have existed but did.

She sighed. "This is frustrating."

Taehyung chuckled. "What is?"

"This." She wiggled her fingers. "The fact that we can't even—" She trailed off, biting her lip, embarrassed to voice the thought aloud.

Taehyung tilted his head, studying her. He shifted, resting his weight on his elbow, his voice turning softer. "Do you want to hold my hand, Jungkook?"

Her breath hitched. The way he said it, with that deep, velvety voice, made her toes curl.

The wife swallowed, trying to fake nonchalance. "It's not that I want to," she mumbled, eyes darting away. "I just think it's unfair. Husbands and wives should be able to..." She stopped again, cheeks heating.

Taehyung let out a slow, knowing smile. "Should be able to what?"

Jungkook huffed, glaring at him. "You know what I mean."

He did. He always did.

A moment passed, quiet and warm, filled only with the soft sounds of their breathing. Then, Taehyung slowly lifted his hand, his fingers stretching toward hers—but stopping just before they could touch. His pinky hovered just above hers, so close that she could almost feel the phantom warmth of his skin.

Jungkook stared at the space between them, her throat tightening.

"We're not touching," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it almost feels like we are, doesn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, unable to speak.

Taehyung's gaze softened. "Maybe it's enough... for now."

For now.

Jungkook exhaled, a tiny smile playing at her lips. Slowly, she curled her pinky around the empty air where his should have been, mirroring the gesture as if they were intertwined.

"It'll break one day," Taehyung whispered, watching her. "And when it does..."

He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to. The promise hung between them, unspoken but understood.

Jungkook smiled against the pillow, her heart warm and full.

For now, this was enough.

Then, with a sudden rustle of wings, a soft thud landed between them. A familiar weight pressed into the sheets, followed by the sharp, curious tilt of a feathered head.

Arathorn.

Jungkook gasped as the majestic eagle fluffed his feathers, looking far too comfortable as he plopped down right in the middle of their wordless longing. His golden eyes flicked between them, intelligent and knowing, as if he had landed with a purpose.

"Arathorn..."

The eagle clicked his beak, settling himself even further into the blankets. His massive wings stretched for a brief moment before folding neatly.

Jungkook reaching out to stroke the eagle's smooth head, her fingers brushing against the soft feathers. "Well, at least I can touch someone in this house."

Taehyung let out a suffering sigh, flopping onto his back as he stared at the ceiling. "This is ridiculous. First the curse, now my own eagle is third-wheeling me."

Jungkook turned on her side again, resting her cheek against the pillow as she admired the two most important beings in her life—the grumpy, sleep-deprived husband and the regal, smug eagle who had claimed the bed as his throne.

Arathorn let out a soft coo, and Taehyung, despite himself, reached up to lazily stroke the bird's feathers. Jungkook sighed happily.

"Looks like we're a family of three now," she mused, a small smile curving on her lips.

Taehyung couldn't hide the soft twitch of his lips as he looked between his wife and his feathery little nuisance.

"A very annoying family of three," he muttered.

Jungkook only giggled, reaching out to boop Arathorn's beak.

Jungkook was still playing with Arathorn's feathers when suddenly she paused as an idea sparked in her mischievous mind. She bit her lip, stifling a grin before turning back to Arathorn. Carefully, she stroked the eagle's sleek head, her voice turning coaxing.

"Arathorn, my dear," she murmured, tilting her head as she looked into the bird's intelligent golden eyes. "You know... since you're already here, making yourself comfortable between us, wouldn't it be nicer if you were, say... a tiny kitten instead?"

Taehyung sat up, blinking at her. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook ignored him, her full attention on the majestic eagle, who merely blinked at her request, unamused.

"Just for a little while," she added quickly, her fingers gently ruffling his feathers. "You're already keeping us apart, but at least if you were a small kitten, you'd be cuter while doing it!"

Taehyung scoffed. "You think he's going to listen to you?"

Jungkook pouted, undeterred. "Why not? He listens to me sometimes!"

"Arathorn is a proud eagle," Taehyung declared, reaching out to rub his pet's wing in solidarity. "He's not going to—"

But before he could finish, a sudden whoosh of magic rippled through the air. The space between them shimmered for a brief second, and with a soft poof, the large, regal eagle vanished—

Only to be replaced by a tiny, fluffy kitten.

Jungkook gasped. Taehyung froze.

There, nestled between them, was a small, golden-furred kitten with piercing golden eyes, the same color as Arathorn's majestic ones. His tiny ears twitched, and he blinked up at them with the same regal stare, as if unimpressed by their shock.

Jungkook clasped her hands together, her face lighting up in pure delight. "Oh my gosh—you actually did it! Arathorn! Look at you!"

The kitten huffed, flicking his tiny tail, before elegantly settling himself back into the exact same spot he had occupied before.

Taehyung was stunned. His mouth opened and closed before he ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable." He shot Jungkook an exasperated look. "You spoiled him too much!"

Jungkook giggled, reaching out to gently scratch the kitten's soft head, watching as he closed his eyes in reluctant pleasure. "I think he likes being pampered."

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is humiliating. My powerful eagle... reduced to this."

Jungkook only smiled, gathering the tiny kitten in her hands and bringing him close, pressing her cheek against his soft fur. "You're perfect, Arathorn," she cooed, ignoring Taehyung's groan.

Arathorn purred.

Jungkook cradled the tiny golden kitten in her hands, her fingers brushing against his soft fur like he was the most delicate treasure in the world. Arathorn, usually a proud and imposing eagle, now looked utterly content, his golden eyes half-lidded as he stretched in her palms, purring in deep satisfaction.

Taehyung watched the scene, arms crossed over his chest, his lips tugged into a thin line. His wife was breathtaking—her delicate hands cupping the small creature, her long lashes fluttering as she gazed at Arathorn with an adoration he usually received.

It was annoying.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his dark hair.

Jungkook barely glanced at him, too busy rubbing behind the kitten's tiny ears. "What?" she hummed absentmindedly.

Taehyung's eye twitched. "What?" he echoed. "You're sitting here, whispering sweet nothings to my pet while I—your husband, might I remind you—am being completely ignored."

Jungkook finally looked at him, her lips twitching in amusement. "Are you..." She tilted her head. "Jealous?"

"No!" he scoffed, a little too quickly. He shifted in his seat, glancing away, before his deep voice grumbled, "Why would I be jealous of my own pet?"

Jungkook giggled, holding Arathorn up slightly. "Well, he is small and adorable right now. And soft." She nuzzled her cheek against the kitten, sighing dramatically. "So warm and cuddly, too."

Arathorn, the little traitor, meowed cutely and rubbed his head against Jungkook's chin, clearly enjoying the attention.

Taehyung's jaw clenched.

"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. His wife—his precious wife—was lavishing all her affection on a bird-turned-kitten while he sat here like a ghost!

Jungkook caught the dark expression on her husband's face, and mischief danced in her eyes. Oh, he was definitely jealous.

"Taehyung," she sang sweetly, shifting slightly to face him, "do you want to hold him too?"

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "No."

Jungkook bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." His answer was immediate.

She smirked, and before he could protest, she leaned forward—close enough that he caught the faint scent of roses in her hair—and placed Arathorn in his lap.

The kitten sat there, unamused, staring up at Taehyung with sharp golden eyes that said, This is beneath me.

Taehyung scowled back at the creature. "You."

Arathorn flicked his tail, as if mocking him.

Jungkook was barely containing her laughter. "Look! He loves you," she teased.

Taehyung deadpanned. "He's plotting my demise."

Arathorn let out a tiny huff and promptly curled up right on Taehyung's thigh, making himself comfortable.

Jungkook clapped her hands, grinning. "See? He trusts you!"

Taehyung groaned, slumping back against the pillows, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Great. Now even my eagle has betrayed me."

Jungkook giggled, shifting closer to him—but not too close, thanks to the curse. She rested her chin on her hands, looking at him with sparkling eyes. "Don't be dramatic, Mr. Kim."

He peeked at her through his arm, his lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, I'm dramatic?"

She nodded, biting her lip playfully. "Very."

Taehyung exhaled, shaking his head. His gaze softened as it lingered on her, watching the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, how the sunlight flickered in her dark eyes. Perhaps it was unfair that Jungkook was showering all her affection on a kitten instead of him. But the way she looked so happy, her laughter so light and carefree, made the jealousy fade into something warmer.

Still, he grumbled, "I swear, once this curse is broken, I'm getting my revenge."

Jungkook arched a brow. "Revenge?"

Taehyung smirked, his deep voice dropping an octave. "Oh, you'll see, Mrs. Kim."

Jungkook shivered at the way he said it—but before she could respond, Arathorn meowed loudly, reminding them that he was still here.

And just like that, the moment was broken.

Jungkook burst into laughter, while Taehyung sighed in resignation.

"Unbelievable."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sharp sound of the doorbell echoed through the vast halls of the Kim manor. The butler moved swiftly to answer the door.

When he opened it, his eyes landed on a woman standing on the threshold. She was dressed simply, but the look in her eyes and the way she held herself gave the impression of someone far more important than her level.

Kara stood tall but it was all a façade.

Beneath it, there was something desperate—something calculating. She glanced around the grand entrance, almost dismissive of the beauty of the estate. She wasn't dressed in elaborate jewels.

When her eyes fell on the butler, they narrowed slightly, as if measuring him up.

The butler asked with his polite professionalism, "May I help you, madam? And who might you be?"

Kara shot him a look of disdain, her lips curling into a slight smirk as she examined the grand hallway, clearly unimpressed.

"Really? You don't even know who I am? How rude," she commented, her words dripping with condescension, as if she expected the butler to instantly recognize her presence.

Despite her lack of wealth, her attitude was as if she expected the world to bend to her will. It was clear from the way she carried herself—like a woman who had spent years twisting others to her advantage—that she had learned how to command attention with nothing more than her sharp tongue and keen sense of entitlement.

Kara's gaze flickered over him, her lips curling into a small, amused smile. "I'm here to see Jungkook," she said, her voice smooth but laced with an underlying arrogance.

The butler blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Mrs. Kim?" he asked, his tone polite but wary. "May I inquire as to who you are and why you need to meet Mrs. Kim?"

Kara's eyebrows shot up, her expression shifting to one of disbelief.

Mrs. Kim.

Kara's lips tightened at the term, a sharp pang of bitterness coursing through her. The name that should have been hers was now her daughter's—a title spoken with a respect Kara had never known.

"Mrs. Kim? She's hardly worthy of that title, if you ask me. But that's none of your concern. I am her mother." She emphasized the word 'mother,' as if it were a trump card, as if her connection to Jungkook should give her instant permission to step into this world.

The butler remained standing, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. He had heard about Kara—rumors of her background as a courtesan, her reputation for being manipulative and her tendency to demand respect where none was due. His gaze was steady, betraying none of his thoughts.

"I apologize, madam, but I cannot allow you to disturb Mrs. Kim. You'll have to wait."

"Wait?" Kara's eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Which mother needs to 'wait' to see her own daughter?"

"Protocols need to be followed!" The butler replied straightly.

With that, Kara turned away from the butler, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor as she made her way toward the sitting area, settling herself into one of the plush chairs. She crossed her legs, adjusted her posture, and then, without another word, waited.

The butler stood there for a moment, watching her, a tightness in his chest at the woman's audacity. Kara had not been invited and yet here she was, acting as though she owned the place.

The butler's fingers hovered over the receiver and dialed the number. He had seen many faces pass through the doors of Kim Manor but there was something about Kara that felt out of place. Her presence carried arrogance that made him uneasy.

The phone rang twice before a deep, familiar voice answered.

"Yes?" Taehyung's voice was smooth.

"Sir, I... I have a situation," the butler said, his voice laced with concern. "A woman by the name of Kara has arrived. She claims to be Mrs. Kim's mother."

There was a brief silence on the other end before Taehyung's voice came through.

"Kara?" he repeated the name, the syllables falling from his lips. "Is she at the door?"

"Yes, sir. She's quite... insistent. I told her that Mrs. Kim is unavailable as you instructed, but she seems rather intent on seeing her," the butler replied.

A slight pause stretched between them before Taehyung spoke again. "Ask Mrs. Kim, and follow her command."

"Understood, sir," the butler replied, his voice equally composed before disconnecting the call.

The butler adjusted his posture and dialed another extension, this time to Mrs. Kim's chambers. The phone rang twice before Jungkook's soft but slightly curious voice answered.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Kim," the butler began, his tone respectful, "there's a visitor here—a woman named Kara. She claims to be your mother. She's insisting on seeing you and I wanted to inquire if you would like me to allow her in."

The line went quiet for a moment, a soft rustling on the other end, as if Jungkook were contemplating the situation. The butler could almost hear her sigh, a gentle sound that betrayed the slight unease she felt.

"My mother...?" Jungkook repeated, her voice low. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, madam. She says she is your mother, and she's... quite determined," the butler continued, choosing his words carefully, understanding that the situation might be delicate.

Jungkook's hand tightened slightly around the receiver, her mind racing. After a long, silent pause, Jungkook's voice came.

"Let her in. I'll be down in a moment."

"Of course, Mrs. Kim," the butler responded quickly, relieved that he would not have to make the decision on his own.

He hung up the phone and returned to the sitting area where Kara was still waiting. The woman idly tapping her nails against the armrest of the chair, her eyes scanning the luxurious room with curiosity and envy.

Kara noticed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips lifting into a faint smirk.

"I assume Mrs. Kim has made her decision?" Kara asked, her voice smooth and dripping with a sense of victory.

"Yes. Mrs. Kim will be down shortly," the butler replied, keeping his composure.

Kara scoffed, leaning back into the chair, crossing her legs as she surveyed her surroundings.

"Hmm. Quite the palace she's landed herself in, hasn't she?" Her eyes flicked over the opulent decor, her voice dripping with contempt.

The butler gave no response, his impassive expression unyielding. Kara's smirk deepened as though she relished her ability to fill the silence with her own commentary.

"Let's hope she doesn't forget who taught her to charm her way into places like this," she added, her voice a mockery of fondness.

The butler didn't reply. Instead, he silently awaited for Jungkook, aware that the true decision lay not in Kara's hands but in Mrs. Kim's.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a brief wait, the sound of soft footsteps echoed through the grand hall. Kara's sharp gaze snapped toward the grand staircase and her breath hitched slightly as Jungkook appeared, descending the steps gracefully.

Dressed in a flowing pastel dress, her posture was straight and her expression calm, Jungkook moved like a queen returning to her court. The splendidness of the Kim manor only heightened her presence. The polished marble floors, the towering chandeliers, the detailed woodwork—all seemed to bow to her, as if recognizing the rightful queen of the house.

Kara felt a harsh wave of unease. She was all too familiar with the Jungkook who lived under her roof—the timid daughter with downcast eyes, always trying to please, always apologizing for things she didn't need to.

That Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

This Jungkook was radiant, unyielding. She descended the staircase like she owned not just the manor, but even the air in the room.

Kara's eyes filled with hate were now replaced by a facade of maternal concern. She rose from her seat, clasping her hands together, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Jungkookie~" she said, her voice laced with a phony tenderness that might have fooled anyone else.

"My precious baby... it's been so long."

Jungkook stopped a few steps from the bottom, her hands lightly resting on the bannister as her sharp eyes assessed the woman before her. Kara's overly sweet tone, the sudden softness in her gaze—it was all so familiar, a performance Jungkook had seen countless times growing up.

But she wasn't a child anymore.

"Mother," Jungkook said evenly, the single word carrying distance. She stepped off the last stair and approached with slow steps. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Kara's lips twitched, her smile faltering before she recovered, stepping forward as if to close the distance. "Do I need a reason to see my life? I've missed you so much, Jungkookie."

Her voice wavered enough to imply unshed tears, her hands reaching out slightly though she stopped just short of touching her.

Jungkook's gaze flickered to those outstretched hands and then back to Kara's face, her expression betraying nothing. "It's surprising, considering how long it's been since you last visited," she replied, her tone polite but pointed.

"I know, my dear, and I hate myself for it. Life has been... difficult." Kara sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. "But I'm here now, and I just wanted to see how my little baby is doing in her new life."

Jungkook's lips curved into a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "How considerate."

Kara faltered, her act cracking slightly under Jungkook's gaze. She tried to recover, reaching for a softer angle. "You look so... grown up, my Jungkookie. I always knew you'd find a way to make something of yourself."

Kara's greedy eyes darted briefly to the lavish surroundings, her voice turning wistful.

"How is it being the 'perfect' Mrs. Kim?" Kara said, her words laced with mock sweetness.

Jungkook's eyes didn't waver. "It's quite a life, thank you for asking."

There was no trace of sarcasm, just a simple statement, as though she were listing facts. Jungkook's smile tightened. She folded her hands neatly in front of her, tilting her head slightly as she regarded Kara. Then, Jungkook gesturing toward the butler.

"Prepare tea for our guest."

The butler bowed slightly and disappeared, leaving them in the vast hall.

Turning back to Kara, Jungkook met her gaze squarely, the hint of steel in her tone unmistakable. Then, with a faint tilt of her head, she gestured toward the grand staircase.

"Come," she said simply, her tone neither welcoming nor cold—just measured. "I'll take you to a room where we can talk."

Kara blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Jungkook's composure. Her gaze flitted to the staircase, then back to her daughter, before she gave a small smile. "Of course, dear."

She smoothed her worn shawl, attempting to mask her discomfort at the lack of immediate warmth. Jungkook began ascending the staircase, Kara followed, her eyes roaming the luxurious interior.

The polished banisters, the intricate molding along the walls and the lavish chandeliers—all of it was a far cry from the modest, worn surroundings Kara was used to.

Jungkook, however, didn't glance back or engage.

"Such a grand home," Kara remarked. "I see you've truly made a life for yourself here. I always knew my Jungkookie was destined for greatness."

Jungkook paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back at her mother with a small smile. "It's a home, yes,"

She led Kara down a wide, carpeted hallway, the soft padding of their footsteps the only sound between them. Kara's eyes darted toward the ornate paintings and vases that lined the walls, her hands fidgeting with her shawl.

"Do you have staff for all this? Must be exhausting to manage," Kara ventured, her tone dipping into subtle probing.

Jungkook didn't respond to the question. But Kara got her answer as they moved. The house was alive with activity—maids dusting ornate vases, groundskeepers polishing the hardwood floors and cooks carrying trays of ingredients toward the expansive kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kim," a young maiden said softly, clutching a feather duster to her chest as she dipped into a quick bow.

"Good morning," Jungkook responded softly to the greeting.

Kara trailed behind her daughter, her gaze darting around nervously. She felt every glance from the staff—polite but curious, as if questioning her presence without daring to voice it.

Kara watched, biting the inside of her cheek. She wasn't used to this—seeing her daughter treated like royalty. In the small house they once shared, respect like this was unimaginable. Now, Jungkook moved through this grand estate like she was born to it, a queen among her subjects.

For the first time, Kara truly felt the shift in their dynamic.

This wasn't the daughter she had once controlled with guilt and manipulation. Here, in the Kim manor, Jungkook wasn't her daughter. She was Mrs. Kim, a queen in her own right.

And Kara... Kara was nothing more than a guest, at the mercy of her daughter's goodwill.

As Jungkook and Kara walked further into the manor, a lively voice interrupted the calm atmosphere.

"Sister-in-law!"

Jungkook turned just in time to see Yeonjun burst out of the hallway juggling three oranges.

"Sister-in-law!" he exclaimed again, one orange slipping from his hands and rolling across the polished floor. He scrambled after it, nearly tripping, but caught it just before it hit her feet.

"Phew! That was close. I saved it—for you!"

Jungkook looked down at him, trying not to laugh. "Why are you juggling oranges in the middle of the house?"

"It's called multitasking," he said, standing up straight and tossing an orange in the air again. "This is how I keep my brain sharp and my reflexes sharper. Brother could learn a thing or two from me."

"Right," Jungkook said, crossing her arms. "And how does this help with... anything?"

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kim Taehyung," Yeonjun said dramatically, pointing one orange at her like a wand, "not all heroes wear suits like your husband. Some of us—" he tossed the orange and caught it behind his back, "—wear casual clothes and carry the weight of entertainment on our shoulders."

Jungkook shook her head, biting back a laugh. "You mean the weight of snacks and laziness, right?"

Yeonjun gasped in mock horror. "How dare you slander me like that? I'm the heartbeat of this household!"

His gaze flickered to Kara again, curious but not unkind. "Your...?"

"This is my mother," Jungkook introduced.

"Ah, Mother!" Yeonjun straightened, giving Kara a polite but warm smile. "Welcome to the Kim manor. It's always good to have family around."

Kara's lips curved into a practiced smile, though the warmth didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you. The house is... impressive."

"Don't you have work to do?" Jungkook interjected, her tone light but pointed.

Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart again, mock-offended. "Why does everyone keep questioning my work ethic? I'm very productive, thank you."

"Of course," Jungkook said with a smirk. "If by 'productive,' you mean procrastinating until the last minute."

"You wound me, sister-in-law," Yeonjun said with a dramatic sigh, but his grin widened. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you two alone. For now." He made a show of standing up and dusting off his clothes, but not without one last playful glance at Jungkook.

As Yeonjun disappeared from view, Kara turned her gaze toward Jungkook, her expression calculating. "He's quite... familiar with you."

Jungkook's smile faded a little, replaced by a more neutral look. "He's my brother-in-law, Mother. Of course he's familiar. He's like a younger brother to me." She paused, her voice hardening slightly.

"And don't get any ideas."

Kara raised a delicate eyebrow, unbothered by Jungkook's reaction. "I was merely observing, dear. No need to get defensive."

Jungkook exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Observing? That's what you're calling it? No, Mother, it sounded more like you were trying to stir something unnecessary. And for what? To make me doubt the one family I actually feel safe with?"

Kara's gaze flickered momentarily but she said nothing more. Instead, she just nodded and followed Jungkook in silence down the hall, their unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Jungkook slowed, stopping in front of a large wooden door. She turned the handle and stepped inside, holding the door open for Kara.

"Come," she said simply, stepping aside to let Kara enter.

The room was spacious yet warm, with soft lighting illuminating the furnishings. A large bed sat in the center, its frame dark wood and its linens pristine. A reading nook by the window overlooked the garden, and subtle personal touches—like a photo frame on the nightstand—hinted at the life Jungkook shared with Taehyung.

Kara paused in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly. "This is your room?" she asked, glancing around with awe and envy.

"Ours," Jungkook corrected, stepping inside. She moved toward the bed as if to reassert her authority over the space. "Mr Kim and I share it."

"Ah, of course. A wife and husband should always be close." Her tone was sweet, but the sharpness in her gaze betrayed her calculating nature.

Kara's eyes scanned the room, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of the vanity table as if assessing its worth. She turned to Jungkook, her voice dripping with curiosity. "So, where is your husband? I was expecting to meet my son-in-law."

Jungkook paused and let out a soft chuckle. She straightened, meeting Kara's gaze with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Thank God, he isn't here,"

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that, my dear?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a faint smirk, her arms crossing casually as she leaned slightly against the bedpost. "Because if he were," she began, "you wouldn't be standing in this manor, let alone in our room."

The color in Kara's face shifted for a split second before she recovered, her lips pulling into a tight smile. "Such harsh words, Jungkookie. Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

Jungkook's expression didn't waver. "It's just the truth," she said simply, "Mr Kim has no tolerance for games and he values his home and his family. Anyone who disrupts that..."

She let the sentence hang in the air, the unspoken implication crystal clear.

Kara gave a nervous laugh, waving her hand as if to dismiss the tension. "My, my, you've become quite bold. Marriage has really changed you, hasn't it?"

Jungkook tilted her head, her smile faint but sharp. "Marriage didn't change me, Mother. It just reminded me of what I deserve."

For a moment, silence settled over the room, Jungkook's words lingering between them. Kara's gaze darted away, her façade momentarily cracking before she regained her composure.

Jungkook settled into the chair across from Kara. She folded her hands neatly in her lap, studying her mother for a moment before speaking.

"I've been meaning to ask, Mother," Jungkook began, "was it worth it?"

Kara blinked, her faux-motherly smile faltering. "What are you talking about, dear?"

Jungkook leaned back slightly, tilting her head. "Selling me off to Sangwoon," she said, her voice was cold, the words cutting through the air like a blade. "Without a second thought. Was the money worth your child's freedom?"

The color drained from Kara's face, her eyes darting to the door as if to ensure no one else was around. "Jungkook, I... I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't," Jungkook interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "Don't insult my intelligence by pretending you don't know. I found out everything."

Kara's hands fidgeted in her lap, her confident façade beginning to crumble. "I was doing what I thought was best for you," she said, her voice shaky. "Sangwoon is... was a powerful man. I thought he could provide you with a good life—"

"A good life? While being someone's second wife?" Jungkook repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Do you even hear yourself? You sold me, Mother. To a man who only saw me as property. To a man who was married. To a man who already had kid."

Kara opened her mouth to respond, but Jungkook held up a hand, silencing her.

"I trusted you," Jungkook continued, her voice dropping even lower. "Even when everyone else told me to be careful around you, I believed you had my best interests at heart. But all it took was a pile of money for you to throw me away."

Kara's lips trembled, her eyes glistening. "It wasn't like that, Jungkookie. I—"

"Don't call me that," Jungkook said sharply, her gaze icy. "You lost the right to call me that the moment you signed me away like a piece of furniture."

The room fell silent, Jungkook's words pressing heavily. Kara swallowed hard, her hands gripping the edge of her dress. Kara looked down, her fingers trembling.

"I made mistakes," she said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Mistakes," Jungkook repeated, shaking her head with a humorless smile. "No, Mother. Mistakes are accidents. What you did was a choice."

Jungkook stood, the chair scraping softly against the floor as she pushed it back. She turned toward the window. Her voice cracked as she stood near the window, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if holding together the pieces of her breaking heart. Her shoulders trembled and when she finally turned back to face Kara, tears glistened in her eyes.

"Do you know," she began, her voice uneven but laced with a raw edge, "how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of you? Because I was too busy protecting your image to protect myself?"

Kara's eyes widened, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

"I faced every insult, every sneer, every cruel words because I didn't want anyone to know who you really were," Jungkook continued, her sobs escaping despite her effort to stay composed.

Kara's head lowered, but Jungkook pressed on, her tears flowing freely now.

"When I married Mr Kim, I thought I'd finally escape it all," Jungkook said, her voice breaking. "But no. Kim Soomin—his mother—never let me forget. She reminded me at every chance who you are, what I came from. She taunted me about being the daughter of a courtesan. I had to stand there and take it. Do you know why?"

Kara shook her head weakly, her hands trembling in her lap.

"Because I couldn't let your name drag me down any further. I kept my head high, endured everything, for your sake. For this family's sake. Do you know what it's like to feel so small, to be treated like dirt, and still have to smile through it all?"

Kara looked up, tears brimming in her own eyes. "Jungkook, I... I never wanted—"

"Stop," Jungkook interrupted, holding up a trembling hand. "Don't you dare try to justify this."

"You know, Mother," she began, her voice laden with sarcasm and hurt, "I spent most of my childhood and teenage years defending you. People didn't respect you but I made sure they feared crossing your name."

Kara blinked, her confusion evident. "What?"

"Oh, let me enlighten you," Jungkook said, pacing the room as if trying to keep herself from breaking entirely. "Remember Mrs. Choi? The one who spread rumors about you around the neighborhood? I found her car parked outside the market one day and punched a hole in her tire with a nail. The look on her face when she realized it was priceless."

Kara gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "You... you did that?"

Jungkook turned to her, the corner of her lips tilting into a sardonic smile. "Whenever someone said something vile about you, I'd find a way to make them regret it. Cutting the strings of their children's kites, 'accidentally' spilling juice on their pristine dresses at parties, or just... leaving them behind. Anyone who spoke against you lost me as a friend, no questions asked."

Kara looked down, her hands twisting together. "I... didn't know."

"Of course, you didn't," Jungkook said sharply, her voice rising.

"Do you know how many times I had to hear someone call me a courtesan's daughter? Do you know how humiliating it was to hear boys laugh behind my back, saying I must've inherited your 'skills'?"

Kara flinched, tears brimming in her eyes. "Jungkook, I—"

Her voice broke as she added, "I lost so much because of you. Friends, respect, opportunities. Do you know why? Because every time someone insulted you, I felt like they were insulting me too. And I hated it. I hated feeling like I had to carry your mistakes, your reputation, like some cursed inheritance."

Kara's tears fell silently now, her lips trembling as she tried to form words, but Jungkook didn't give her the chance.

"And the worst part?" Jungkook said, her voice quiet but laced with venom. "I defended you even when I didn't believe in you. Even when you sold me to Sangwoon without a second thought, I still wanted to protect your name. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To love someone who doesn't deserve it?"

Kara's sobs finally broke through but Jungkook only shook her head, her tears streaming freely. "Don't cry now, Mother. You never cried for me when I needed you."

Jungkook leaned back against the edge of the bed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, as though holding herself together. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with the memories she carried.

"Do you remember the first time we met after I married Mr Kim? After I stepped into your house as his wife?"

Kara's gaze faltered, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She didn't respond, but her silence was answer enough for Jungkook to continue.

"Do you remember what you said to me, Mother? Let me remind you." Jungkook straightened her posture and mimicked Kara's tone, her words cutting like a blade.

"'Look, look, how your tongue is running like the fastest scissor. How much cost had they paid that you're desperately defending them? Isn't that pathetic? Jungkookie.'" Jungkook's lips curled into a bitter smile, her voice rising slightly.

Kara flinched at the cold precision in her daughter's voice, the very words she had spoken coming back to haunt her.

Jungkook's laugh was humorless, her tears barely contained as she met her mother's eyes.

"Do you hear yourself, Mother? Do you hear the poison in your words? That's what you said to me. Your daughter. And for what? To remind me that no matter what I did, I could never rise above your expectations? That I was nothing more than a liability to you?"

Jungkook took a step closer, her gaze unwavering despite the tears threatening to spill over.

"I didn't forget, Mother. I never forgot the way you made me feel that day. Like my happiness, my life, was something you could tear apart with a few cruel words. Like you had the right to decide what I deserved."

Kara's lips trembled, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it that way, Jungkook. I was angry—"

"Angry?" Jungkook snapped, her voice breaking. "And that's supposed to excuse it? You think being angry justifies tearing me down, making me feel like I didn't deserve the life I was trying to build? You humiliated me, Mother. You made me feel ashamed for simply wanting to be happy."

"Do you know what my first days in this manor were like?" Jungkook began. Her eyes met Kara's, shining with anger and sorrow.

"I was terrified, Mother. Mr Kim... he barely spoke to me. His face was always unreadable like he was trying to decide if I was even worth his time. And his mother? She didn't even bother hiding how much she hated me."

Jungkook's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "She called me an embarrassment—a shame to the Kim name. I couldn't even lift my head during meals. Every step I took in this house felt like I was walking on glass, waiting for it to pierce me."

Kara opened her mouth to speak, but Jungkook raised a hand, silencing her. "No. Let me finish."

Jungkook took a deep breath, her shoulders trembling as she struggled to keep her voice steady. "Every day, I was reminded of who I was—of who you were. The whispers from the staff, the glances at family gatherings... I heard them all. Characterless courtesan's daughter. That's what his mother called me."

Kara's eyes darted to the floor, her facade cracking slightly. "Jungkook, I—"

"Do you know what hurt the most? It wasn't them. It wasn't even Mr Kim's cold indifference or his mother's cruelty. It was knowing that I had spent my entire life protecting your name. Yours."

Kara flinched but Jungkook pressed on. Her voice softened, but the bitterness in her tone cut just as deep.

"In this house, I tried so hard to fit in, to prove I was worthy of being a member of this family. But every time his mother looked at me, I saw the same disdain Sangwoon had. The same disdain the world had for your name... and mine."

Tears welled in Jungkook's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I begged myself to believe you had a reason, that you did it because you loved me in some twisted way. But every day, that belief faded, piece by piece."

Kara's face paled, her hands trembling. "Jungkook, I... I didn't know—"

"Of course, you didn't," Jungkook interrupted, her laugh hollow and bitter. "You didn't care to know. You didn't even ask." She turned away, her shoulders heaving as she fought to steady her breathing.

"Do you know why I'm still here? Why I stayed even when I felt like I didn't belong? It wasn't because of you. It was because of him."

Kara frowned. "Him?"

Jungkook turned back, her expression resolute. "Mr Kim. He saw me, Mother. Slowly, he started to see me for who I was, not for the name you gave me. He stood by me when the world wanted to tear me down. He taught me what it means to be loved unconditionally. And now..." Her voice grew firmer, laced with finality. "Now, I don't need you anymore."

Kara's tears were flowing freely now, her hands covering her mouth as she sobbed. But Jungkook didn't move to comfort her. She simply stood there, reclaiming the dignity she'd been denied for so long.

"'Kim Taehyung—that's the name over which you're flying so high. If I tell him the sickening reality of yours, what will happen, dear Jungkook?'"

Jungkook paused, her eyes narrowing as she fixed Kara with an unflinching stare. "You questioned me this, right? You threw those words at me like daggers, trying to cut me down, trying to make me afraid. But let me tell you the answer again."

Jungkook's voice softened. "He already knows, Mother. He knows everything about me—my past, my flaws, the things I've been through—and still, he's by my side. He stands with me, protects me, and values me in ways you never did. And no matter what you think, no matter what you try to say, you can't change that."

Her lips trembled, but she kept going, her voice filled with both pain and defiance. "Do you know what that feels like, Mother? To have someone who sees the worst of you and still chooses you? Mr Kim is that person for me. He's my strength when I falter, my shield when the world turns against me."

Kara's face crumpled, her tears falling freely now, but Jungkook didn't waver. With those final words, Jungkook stepped back, her tears glistening but her resolve unbroken. Kara could only sit there, her silence weighed down by the truth Jungkook had laid bare.

"You always say that," Jungkook started, her eyes narrowing as she stared down at Kara, who was still shaking with her sobs. "You always tell me how you regret picking me up from the river that day, how you wish you'd let me drown, left me to the cold water and the currents."

Kara's face contorted with the guilt of those words, but Jungkook held up a hand, stopping her from speaking.

"Well, today," Jungkook continued, her voice gaining strength with every word, "today I say... I regret that you picked me up from the river."

Her words were sharp, cutting through the thick silence in the room.

"I regret ever being your daughter. Because you're not a mother, you never were. You used me, sold me, and never once gave me the love I needed. You treated me like an object, a thing to be discarded and replaced whenever it suited you."

Jungkook's chest rose and fell with her emotions, but her eyes never left Kara. "You might've saved me from drowning, but you drowned me in your lies, your manipulation, and your selfishness."

Kara's sobs choked in her throat, but Jungkook wasn't done. "And now, here we are. You come into my life, expecting me to welcome you, but you never earned it. You were never a mother. You're just someone who left me to fight for myself, and now you think you deserve my forgiveness? My respect? Never."

"Go away, Jeon Kara! I don't want to see you,"

Kara's eyes widened in disbelief, and for the first time, Jungkook saw the true impact of her words hit home. Jungkook didn't give Kara the space to respond, turning her back on her mother and walking toward the door, her footsteps purposeful and resolute.

"Jungko--"

"Leave," Jungkook repeated, this time louder, as she opened the door for her. "If you don't leave now, I'll have you escorted out."

Kara stood frozen for a moment, Jungkook's words sinking in. But as she saw her Jungkook, she realized there was no room for manipulation, no room for her games. With one last look at Jungkook, Kara stumbled to her feet, wiping away the remnants of her tears.

Jungkook stood by the door, her hand gripping the handle so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her voice was strong, but the hurt in her tone was apparent as she spoke, her final words slicing through the tense silence like a blade.

"I hope this will be our last conversation, because I don't ever want to see your face again."

Jungkook stepped aside, holding the door open wider. Her expression was cold, devoid of the warmth Kara had once taken for granted.

"Leave," she repeated firmly. "Now."

For a moment, Kara hesitated, her eyes scanning Jungkook's face as if searching for some sign of hesitation, some opening to twist her way back into her daughter's life. But what she found was a strict determination, one that left no room for forgiveness.

With trembling hands, Kara adjusted her shawl and began to walk toward the door.

Kara's shoulders slumped, her steps faltering as she crossed the threshold. Jungkook watched as she disappeared down the hall, her figure growing smaller until it was out of sight.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her echoed in the room, and for the first time, Jungkook allowed herself to exhale. Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, her arms wrapping around herself as tears streamed freely down her face.

It was over.

A lifetime of pain, manipulation, and unanswered questions had come to a head. And though the ache in her chest was unbearable, there was also a strange, unfamiliar relief—like a heavy weight she had carried for years had finally been lifted.

The final chapter had been written.

Unknown to them, their talks have been heard by someone.

Outside the room, hidden in the dimly lit corridor, a figure stood motionless, silhouette blending seamlessly with the shadows. Eyes dark and unreadable glimmered faintly under the soft glow of a nearby lamp.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───