🥀 80. The Legacy Of Lies

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The morning was soft, golden light filtering through the windows of Kim Manor.

It was a pretty, pretty morning, befitting the beauty that moved within it. 

Jungkook stood near the dresser, fingers carefully adjusting the fabric of her dress, smoothing out the folds that cascaded over her frame. The deep red hue complemented her complexion, making her look like something out of a dream—warm, glowing, utterly breathtaking. The scent of her floral perfume still remained in the air, mixing with the freshness of her post-shower glow. 

She twisted slightly, reaching for her earrings. But despite her focus on perfecting her look, her gaze had a tendency to stray—to the man still sprawled across the bed. 

Taehyung lay on his back, one arm resting over his forehead, the other draped lazily by his side. The early sunlight traced along his jawline, highlighting the smooth curve of his cheekbones, the relaxed part of his lips.

His shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing a fraction of his toned abdomen, rising and falling with each slow breath. He looked devastatingly handsome even in sleep, his dark lashes casting faint shadows on his skin. 

Her hands instinctively clutched the fabric of her dress as she just stood there, shamelessly drinking in the sight before her.

Why did he have to look so... edible first thing in the morning?

Jungkook chewed on her lower lip, shifting from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way her heart picked up speed. It was one thing to acknowledge that her husband was handsome, but it was another thing entirely to feel like a complete fool just staring at him while he slept.

Jungkook huffed, shaking herself out of whatever daze she had fallen into. But as she took a step closer, a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes.

A slow smirk curled on her lips.

Why wake him up the normal way when she could have some fun?

Jungkook tiptoed towards the bed, careful not to make a sound. She sat down beside him, one hand resting lightly on his chest while the other reached up to gather her damp hair. For a moment, she just watched—his face so relaxed, so utterly unaware of the trouble looming over him.

Then, slowly, she leaned in closer. Her long strands swayed, her perfume wrapping around them both as she hovered just above him.

"Taehyung," jungkook whispered, her voice saccharine.

No response.

Jungkook pouted dramatically before smirking again. Fine. He wanted to sleep? Let's see how long that lasted.

Once more, Jungkook leaned closer, her lips almost brushing his ear as she called out again, "Mr Kimmmmmm~"

Still nothing.

Now, it was personal.

Jungkook tilted her head, pretending to contemplate her next move. Her damp hair, still holding the fragrance of roses, clung to her shoulders as she leaned in closer. Then, with a small, impish grin, she shook her head, letting droplets of water sprinkle onto his face. 

Taehyung jolted awake with a sharp inhale.

His body tensed, brows furrowing deeper as his hand shot up to his face, wiping at the unexpected wetness. His eyes barely opened, blinking blearily as if trying to comprehend his situation.

Jungkook, meanwhile, sat back, watching innocently.

"Good morning, husband." 

"What the—?" Taehyung rasped, voice thick with sleep. His head turned slightly, eyes adjusting until they landed on Jungkook.

For a second, he just blinked at her, his mind clearly lagging behind as it registered the sight before him.

Taehyung's brain completely short-circuited. 

His fingers, still mid-motion from wiping his face, froze. His breath hitched. His half-lidded eyes widened—only to shamelessly drag down her form. 

Jungkook in red.

Not just any red. A deep, rich red that clung to her curves in all the right ways, draping delicately yet provocatively over her frame.

The neckline revealed the graceful slope of her collarbones, adorned with faint droplets of water that caught the morning light. The damp ends of her dark hair trailed over her shoulders, the scent of roses thick in the air. 

Taehyung swallowed hard. 

His wife—his pretty little menace—sat there, blinking innocently at him, head slightly tilted, utterly oblivious to the fire she just ignited in him this early in the morning. 

Jungkook raised a brow. "Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Taehyung didn't respond. He couldn't. His brain had blue-screened. 

Jungkook, amused, leaned closer, tapping his forehead. "Hello? Earth to Mr. Kim?" 

Taehyung finally blinked, his throat bobbing. "You—" His voice came out hoarse, and he had to clear it before trying again. "You're wearing red." 

Jungkook glanced down at her dress, then back at him, confused. "And?" 

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"You can't just—" Taehyung gestured vaguely at her entire being, "look like this first thing in the morning. It's—illegal." 

Jungkook snorted, covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. "Illegal?" 

"Yes," Taehyung deadpanned, finally sitting up, the blanket pooling at his waist. His sharp gaze remained locked on her, dark and unreadable.

"You're dangerous this early in the morning." 

Jungkook grinned moving closer to him. "Who, me?" Her fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt, playing with it innocently. "I was just trying to wake you up." 

Taehyung let out a slow breath, his eyes darkening slightly as he took her in. "I'm awake now," he murmured, his hand lifting to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered at her jawline, tracing lightly. "What now?" 

Jungkook feigned innocence, tilting her head. "Hmm, maybe I should get going. Aunties are waiting." 

Jungkook barely had a second to move before Taehyung's grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her back with an effortless tug. A startled gasp left her lips as she stumbled, her soft frame crashing against his firm chest. 

The impact sent a shiver down her spine. Taehyung was warm, solid, and overwhelming in the best way possible. 

Jungkook swallowed hard, biting the inside of her cheek to keep a whimper from slipping out. Oh, to be manhandled by her husband. The thought alone sent heat curling low in her stomach. 

Taehyung smirked, watching her reaction with dark amusement. "Where do you think you're going, hmm?" His voice was dangerously soft, laced with something that made her toes curl. 

Jungkook mustered up whatever was left of her defiance, tilting her chin up despite the way her pulse hammered beneath his touch.

"To get ready," she said, feigning nonchalance. "Unlike you, I have responsibilities." 

Taehyung hummed, his fingers tracing the delicate dip of her wrist before twisting it gently behind her back, trapping her against him. 

Jungkook's breath hitched as her pillowy chest pressed against his hard muscles. The contrast was dizzying. His body heat seeped into her, his scent invading her senses. 

Taehyung's other hand found its way to the small of her back, pressing her even closer. "And what if I say your only responsibility is staying right here?" His lips brushed the shell of her ear, voice a sultry whisper. 

Jungkook clenched her jaw, trying not to melt then and there. "And what if I say you're intolerable?" 

Taehyung chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter sending another shiver through her. "Ah, my beloved, we both know you don't mean that." 

Jungkook huffed, her free hand coming up to press against his chest, attempting to push him away—but he didn't budge.

Of course, he didn't. The man was a damn wall. 

"You—" she started, but her words faltered when Taehyung suddenly dipped his head, his lips ghosting along the curve of her jaw. 

Jungkook's fingers curled into his shirt. The wife tried to glare at him, but the effect was lost with the way her breath hitched when his lips trailed lower, skimming dangerously close to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. 

Her trapped hand wiggled against his hold, but it was futile—his grip was firm, unrelenting. 

"M-Mr Kim," Jungkook tried again, but this time, it came out more of a plea than protest. 

Taehyung hummed, clearly amused, his lips curving into a smirk against her neck.

"What is it, my love?" His voice was dark, smooth—too smooth, like silk gliding over bare skin. 

Jungkook shivered as he placed a slow kiss just beneath her ear, his lips pressing softly, then harder, before his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. Her fingers clenched into his shirt as her breath stuttered. 

"I—" She gasped when his tongue flicked against the spot, a teasing touch that sent warmth shooting down her spine. "I need to get ready." 

Taehyung chuckled, his other hand sliding up her waist to rest at the small of her back. "And what am I doing, hmm?" he murmured, lips still grazing along her jaw, her neck, moving lower. "Just helping my wife start the morning right." 

Jungkook tried to twist her wrist free again, but he only tightened his hold, keeping her securely in place. 

"Let me go," she gritted out, though her voice lacked any real bite. 

Taehyung smirked against her skin. "Now, why would I do that?" His lips traced a slow path down to her collarbone, his nose grazing against her skin as he breathed her in. "You smell like roses," he mused, nipping gently at her shoulder. 

Jungkook's resistance crumbled the moment Taehyung's lips moved lower, his mouth mapping soft, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. Her fingers, which had been gripping the fabric of his shirt in some feeble attempt at control, relaxed, sliding up to clutch at his shoulders instead. 

Jungkook's head tilted slightly to the side, her body betraying her as she gave him more space to explore. And he did.

His lips trailed lower, tracing the delicate line where her dress met her skin, his breath sending shivers racing down her spine. 

Then, his free hand started moving. 

It trailed up her back, a warm glide of his fingers across the exposed skin of her shoulders before dipping lower, tracing the elegant curve of her spine. Jungkook shuddered under the feather-light touch, her hands clutching tighter at his shoulders, her breath hitching. 

Taehyung smirked at her reaction but didn't say a word. Instead, his fingers continued their descent, mapping out the delicate ridges of her back until they met resistance. 

The knot. 

Jungkook tensed slightly as she felt his fingers brush over the small knot at her shoulder blades, the one that held the upper bodice of her dress securely in place.

It was nothing but a delicate bow—such a simple thing, yet at that moment, it felt like the only fragile barrier between her and the undeniable heat of her husband's touch. 

Taehyung's fingers played with it absently, as if testing, considering. 
"This little thing is keeping you together, hmm?"

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't," she warned weakly, though the way her body leaned into him told a different story. 

Taehyung chuckled against her skin, the vibrations sending another wave of heat curling through her.

"You say that..." He tugged the knot just slightly, just enough for the tension to loosen beneath his fingers. "...but your body says otherwise." 

And then, Taehyung curled his finger around it and tugged it.

Jungkook gasped, her body jerking slightly when she felt the pull at her back. The delicate knot that had held the upper bodice of her dress secure loosened with an ease that felt almost criminal, the soft fabric shifting slightly against her skin, the grip around her chest growing just a fraction looser. 

Her breath hitched. 

"Taehyung—" 

"Hm?" he murmured, completely unbothered, his fingers still lingering at her now-loosened knot. His other hand splayed against her wrist, keeping her close, keeping her trapped. His lips continued their journey along the curve of her shoulder, brushing against her skin as if savoring every inch. 

Jungkook swallowed hard, her pulse thudding against her ribs. "Y-You can't just..." 

Taehyung tilted his head, lips curving into a smirk against her bare shoulder. "Can't just what?" His voice was smooth, teasing, thick with amusement and something darker. "I'm only fixing your dress, love." 

Jungkook huffed, trying to inject some strength into her voice. "Fixing does not involve... untying." 

Taehyung hummed thoughtfully, fingers ghosting over the now-loose strings. "Are you sure? I'm only offering my assistance." 

Jungkook gritted her teeth. "Put it back." 

Taehyung finally lifted his head, meeting her gaze with that lazy, devilish smirk that sent heat pooling in her stomach. "Make me." 

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath. 

The audacity of this man. 

Her fingers twitched against his shirt, nails curling into the fabric. "I swear, if you—" 

Jungkook meant to sound threatening. She really did. But then his fingers brushed over her now-loose strap, slipping the fabric gently down her shoulder. 

Her words died on her tongue. 

A shiver danced down her spine as the cool morning air kissed the newly exposed skin. Her breath came out shaky, her body betraying her in the worst possible way. She should push him away. She should glare at him, scold him, do anything other than what she did next. 

Which was to falter. 

And Taehyung saw it. 

He saw the way her lashes fluttered, the way her lips parted just slightly, the way her grip on his shirt tightened instead of pulling away. 

His smirk deepened. "That's what I thought." 

Jungkook scowled, but it was weak—pathetic, really. "I hate you." 

Taehyung chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that sent warmth curling through her belly. "Sure you do."

Jungkook's pride screamed at her to stop him. To snatch his hands away and fix her dress before it slipped any further. 

But her body? 

Her body leaned closer, her breath uneven, her skin burning where he touched. 

"Do you know what I love the most?" Taehyung mused, voice dipping into something dark and honeyed.

"The way you fight me with words..." His lips ghosted lower, feather-light kisses along the side of her throat, making her toes curl. "...but your body always gives in first." 

Jungkook was caught in a dangerous haze, her mind tangled between innocence and the sinful thrill that Taehyung's touch ignited in her.  

She felt his breath fanning against her neck, the damp strands of her hair sticking to his skin as he buried his face into the curve of her shoulder. His nose traced along her collarbone, inhaling the soft scent of roses that still lingered from her bath. 

Jungkook felt something flutter deep in her belly, warmth spreading through her limbs as Taehyung remained against her.

She let out a shaky breath, her hands instinctively moving up, fingers threading through his hair. He groaned lowly at the touch, the sound vibrating against her collarbone, making her shudder.

A man lost in the sheer presence of his wife.

Jungkook bit her lip, heart pounding.

"Taehyung..." she whispered, fingers playing with his hair, feeling the way his breath hitched against her skin.

He hummed, eyes flickering up to meet hers, dark and molten.

"You feel so warm," Jungkook admitted, her voice barely above a breath.

His lips quirked at the edges. "That's because you're setting me on fire, love."

Jungkook swallowed, her fingers trailing down the nape of his neck, her nails grazing lightly. Taehyung's grip on her waist tightened, his breath turning heavier.

A shudder ran down her spine, the sheer intimacy making her body tingle. 

Jungkook's breath hitched as he slid the fabric down, inch by inch, his knuckles grazing against her heated skin, sending shivers down her spine. 

The red fabric surrendered easily to his touch, falling over her arms, but stopping just at the swell of her chest. It clung there stubbornly, as if teasing them both, leaving just enough to the imagination, making her all the more enticing in his eyes. 

Taehyung pulled back slightly, his gaze raking over Jungkook's form, taking in every little detail of the mess he had turned her into. 

His jaw ticked.

The stubborn neckline sat just above the swells of her chest, flushed a delicate pink from the heat between them. The intricate embroidery, once merely decorative, now seemed like a cruel temptation—bold against her soft skin, drawing his eyes to every rise and fall of her breath.

And God, did she breathe so prettily. Jungkook's chest heaved slightly, her breaths uneven as she remained caught in his grasp. Each inhale made the fabric strain against her, shifting slightly, threatening to slip further.

Her flushed cheeks, her lips parted slightly—soft, wet, and tempting. Her damp hair clung to her neck, emphasizing the small, reddening patches where his lips had lingered. 

Taehyung's tongue flicked out to wet his lips, his dark eyes drinking her in like she was something to be worshipped. 

"You look so wrecked already," he mused, lips ghosting over her skin, teasing. "And I've barely even started." 

Jungkook shivered, both from his words and the warmth of his breath against her skin. "The guests..." she tried, but it sounded weak, as if even she didn't believe her own excuse.

Taehyung hummed, nosing along her jawline, his lips brushing against the delicate skin below her ear. "Let them wait."

"What if someone comes looking for us?" Jungkook spoke, looking away, her eyes caught the time on the wall clock.

9:48

Taehyung smirked, pressing a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth. "I'll send them away."

Jungkook whined, her brows furrowing as she tried to hold her ground. "You're so—"

"So what?" Taehyung murmured, lips grazing the shell of her ear. His hand moved over hers, trying to pry her grip off the dress, but Jungkook only held onto it tighter.

"So shameless!" she huffed, her face burning. "I spent so long getting dressed, and now you're just—"

Taehyung chuckled, completely unrepentant. His fingers played at the edges of her grip, teasing the fabric between his own. "You dressed up for me anyway."

Jungkook's jaw dropped at the audacity. "I did not!"

Taehyung tilted his head, eyes dark with mischief. "Oh?" He leaned closer, his chest pressing against hers, lips brushing dangerously close to her own. "Then why are you stopping me?"

Jungkook spluttered, her fingers trembling as she clung to the dress. "B-Because—I told you! The guests! The aunties—"

"You're saying their names," Taehyung mused, trailing slow kisses along her collarbone. "But you're not moving away."

Jungkook let out a frustrated noise, trying to push at his chest with her free hand, but Taehyung was immovable. He was too warm, too close, and the way his lips lingered against her skin, his hands firm but teasing, sent her heart into a frenzy.

Jungkook glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the way her lips trembled, her chest rising and falling against his.

And Taehyung—ever the shameless man—only chuckled, pressing one last kiss to her lips before whispering, "But you're right about one thing..."

Jungkook blinked. "W-What?"

Taehyung grinned. "You really do look beautiful in red."

Jungkook's heart stuttered.

And just like that, the battle was lost.

Taehyung leaned in slowly, giving her time—always giving her time.

Jungkook sighed against him as their lips met, a delicate press that felt almost like a question. She answered by melting into him, her hands moving up to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palms.

His own hands traveled, one slipping down to her waist, securing her in place, the other resting at the nape of her neck, his fingers playing with the damp strands of her hair. He kissed her deeper, but still gently, savouring her lips.

But just as Jungkook was about to melt into him completely—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A loud knock echoed through the room.

Jungkook startled, gasping as she quickly moved away, eyes wide with panic. Taehyung, on the other hand, merely exhaled through his nose, visibly annoyed.

"Brotherrrrrrrr! Are you even awake?" Yeonjun's voice rang from outside. "The whole house is waiting for you!"

Jungkook scrambled to fix her dress, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the neckline, ensuring it sat properly against her. The flustered flush on her cheeks deepened when she realized Taehyung was watching her with a smirk, his arms lazily crossing over his chest.

"Go open the door!"

Taehyung sighed, rolling his shoulders before finally standing up from the bed. He moved at a leisurely pace, stretching his arms before making his way toward the door.

Jungkook quickly turned her back to him, smoothing out the creases in her dress, hoping that she didn't look as disheveled as she felt.

As Taehyung reached for the doorknob, he threw one last glance over his shoulder, eyes flickering to his wife—her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, her delicate fingers nervously adjusting the embroidered fabric. Even in her frantic state, she was breathtaking.

Then, Taehyung opened the door.

Yeonjun stood there, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. His gaze flickered over Taehyung's still-rumpled state—his unbuttoned shirt, the slight flush to his skin, the general air of a man who had just been interrupted by something very important.

"Finally," Yeonjun grumbled. "I swear, if one more auntie asks me where you are, I'm telling them you eloped and moved to another country."

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "And yet, here you are, still alive. You're more resilient than I thought."

"Hyung." He deadpanned, dragging out the word like he was speaking to a child. "It's past ten. The guests have been eating my brain since morning, and you—" He gestured at him with a dramatic wave of his hands. "—are still in bed clothes? Seriously?"

Taehyung, utterly unfazed, leaned against the doorframe, rolling his shoulders. "And?"

Yeonjun's jaw dropped. "And?!" he echoed, scandalized. "Hyung, do you even understand what I've been going through downstairs? The aunties have started speculating things about your married life, and the elders keep asking about your whereabouts like I'm your personal assistant!"

Taehyung smirked lazily. "That last part's not my problem."

Yeonjun let out a groan of pure suffering.

Meanwhile, behind Taehyung, Jungkook—who had been watching the entire exchange with wide eyes—saw her opportunity and took it. Quietly, she slipped away from the bed, padding toward their closet in an attempt to escape before Yeonjun's sharp gaze inevitably landed on her.

She wasn't dressed indecently by any means, but after what had just transpired, her skin still felt too warm, her hair still a little tousled from Taehyung's hands, and her lips—don't think about that.

Taehyung caught her movement from the corner of his eye but didn't acknowledge it outright, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. He stepped further into the doorway, subtly blocking Yeonjun's view, giving Jungkook enough time to disappear into his closet.

Yeonjun ran a hand through his hair. "Just hurry up and get ready, hyung. You have approximately five minutes before someone—probably Grandma—comes barging in to drag you downstairs herself."

Taehyung sighed as if Yeonjun was truly the burden of his life. "Fine."

Satisfied (for now), Yeonjun spun on his heel and stalked off, still muttering about disowning himself from the family.

Taehyung shut the door behind him and turned around, eyes immediately drifting toward the closet.

Jungkook was inside, her back to him, rifling through his neatly arranged clothes.

His lips curled.

Slowly, Taehyung approached, his bare feet silent against the floor. By the time he reached her, she had pulled out a red shirt and black pants—her choices, always so effortlessly in sync with what suited him best.

Jungkook turned around, about to head back toward the bed, only to startle slightly when she found him right there, too close, too warm.

Her fingers clenched around the fabric instinctively. "You—" She cleared her throat, pretending that she wasn't still feeling the ghost of his lips from earlier. "Your clothes."

Taehyung's gaze flickered down to the clothes in her hands—the deep red shirt and black pants—and his smirk grew.

"Matching, huh?" His voice was smooth, teasing, as he took the neatly folded garments from her hands. "Was that intentional, or do we really think alike now?"

Jungkook blinked, then looked down at herself.

Her own dress—silky, flowing, the same shade of crimson as the shirt in his hands—was undeniable proof.

She hadn't even realized.

Her brows furrowed as she processed it, lips parting slightly in mild disbelief. "I just picked whatever was in front of me," she mumbled, more to herself than to him.

Taehyung chuckled, the sound rich, pleased. "Sure you did, Mrs kim."

Jungkook shot him a glare, flustered but refusing to let it show. "Just get ready."

Taehyung chuckled but didn't push further. He turned toward the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked, making sure Jungkook saw the slow reveal of his toned back before disappearing behind the door.

As soon as the water started running, Jungkook let out a breath, placing a hand on her chest. Menace. Absolute menace.

Shaking her head, she turned to the bed, which was still a mess from their earlier... interruption. But with a snap of her fingers, the sheets straightened themselves, pillows fluffing up perfectly, as if no one had disturbed them.

Jungkook smiled to herself. Being able to do magic had its perks.

Once the room was back in pristine condition, she moved toward the vanity, running her fingers through her damp hair, smoothing out the soft waves. But the moment her gaze dropped on the mirror, her hands froze.

Her neckline.

Jungkook's cheeks flamed.

Faint, undeniable marks peeked from beneath the fabric of her dress, trailing down her shoulder—evidence of Taehyung's shameless antics.

Her heart kicked against her ribs as she yanked at the strap of her dress, sliding it off her shoulder.

Oh.

Because the marks didn't stop there. No, they continued lower, disappearing beneath the fabric in places she didn't even want to check.

Her jaw clenched. "That man," she muttered under her breath, her hands hurriedly pulling her dress back into place.

As if the morning wasn't enough, he had to trademark her like this? With a house full of guests?

Jungkook was still fuming, tugging at the neckline of her dress, when the bathroom door swung open.

Her breath hitched.

Taehyung emerged, fresh from the shower, steam curling out behind him. The first thing she noticed was the way the deep red shirt clung to him, the fabric slightly damp from where he'd run a towel through his hair. The top few buttons were left undone, revealing just enough of his collarbone and the sharp lines of his throat.

And then there were the black slacks—fitted perfectly, sitting dangerously low on his hips.

Jungkook's fingers curled into fists at her sides. Because of course he had to walk out looking like that while she was standing here, desperately trying to erase the evidence of his crimes.

Taehyung barely spared her a glance at first, rolling his sleeves up lazily. But when he did look up—his eyes trailing over her tense form, her bare shoulder, the way her hands were still gripping the fabric of her dress and that murderous glare—his lips twitched.

"Something wrong?"

Jungkook snapped out of her daze, straightening. "Yes," she bit out, stomping toward him. "You!"

Taehyung arched a brow, feigning innocence. "Me?"

Jungkook stopped right in front of him, tilting her head up to glare. "Yes, you!" She gestured wildly at herself. "What is this, Mr Kim? I can't even wear my dress properly without looking like—like—"

His eyes flickered down, amusement glinting in them. "Like a wife?"

Jungkook's jaw dropped. Then, she grumbled under her breath, cheeks burning, and whirled around toward the vanity. She yanked open the drawer, fingers immediately reaching for her concealer.

Before she could grab it, a warm hand closed around her wrist.

Taehyung.

She turned her head, glaring at him. "Let go."

He didn't.

Instead, he tugged her back gently, guiding her to face him again. His grip was firm but not forceful, his thumb idly brushing against the delicate skin of her wrist.

Jungkook huffed. "Mr Kim, I need to—"

"You don't need to do anything," he interrupted smoothly, his voice dipping lower.

Her heart stuttered.

His eyes dropped to her shoulder—the one still slightly exposed from when she had checked herself in the mirror. He didn't look guilty. Not even a little bit. If anything, he seemed pleased.

Jungkook's lips pressed into a thin line as Taehyung's gaze lingered, his fingers ghosting over the marks he had left behind. Her skin tingled under his touch, and despite herself, she shivered.

"Stop looking so smug," she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

Taehyung tilted his head, his grip on her wrist loosening but not disappearing. "Why? Did I do something wrong?" His voice was soft, teasing, but laced with unmistakable affection.

Jungkook scowled. "You know what you did."

"Hmm," he hummed, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. "I think they look beautiful."

Jungkook's cheeks flamed. "They look obvious."

Taehyung smirked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Good."

Jungkook huffed, trying to twist out of his hold, but Taehyung caught her by the waist, pulling her against him effortlessly. Their bodies fit together naturally, her hands landing against his chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart beneath his shirt.

"Let me go," she mumbled, even as her fingers curled into the fabric.

Taehyung pretended to consider it. "Hmm... no, I don't think I will."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes. "Why not?"

His arms tightened around her, his voice turning softer. "Because you'll run away again."

"I won't,"

Taehyung stilled for a moment, as if her words had caught him off guard. His grip on her waist remained firm, but something in his eyes shifted—less teasing, more careful.

"You won't?" he repeated, his voice quieter now, as if testing her promise.

Jungkook nodded, her fingers still curled into his shirt. "I won't," she reaffirmed, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.

Taehyung studied her, his thumb absentmindedly stroking her waist. There was something unreadable in his expression—something deep, something vulnerable.

And then—

He smiled.

Not his usual cocky smirk, not the playful tilt of his lips. But a soft, genuine smile, one that made her heart ache in the best way possible.

"You better not," he murmured, leaning in until their noses brushed.

Jungkook swallowed, her breath catching. "Or what?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Taehyung hummed, his nose brushing against hers as he whispered, "Then I'll kidnap you again."

Jungkook's breath hitched, her hands still fisting his shirt. "What—"

"I'll recreate our wedding day," he continued, his voice dipping into something softer, something that made her heart stutter. "Exactly how it happened."

Jungkook's pout deepened, her cheeks heating up. "You mean the total chaos? The way you stormed in, dragged me to the altar, and stole my vows?"

Taehyung let out a low chuckle, his thumb tracing slow circles on her waist. "I prefer to think of it as fate."

Jungkook scoffed, but her fingers betrayed her, tightening their hold on him.

Taehyung tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief, but the tenderness in them was unmistakable. "And yet, you still ended up with me," he murmured. "Still here. Still mine."

Jungkook swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Damn him.

Damn the way he could say things like that and make her feel like the world had stilled just for them.

Taehyung sighed dramatically, pulling her even closer. "If I have to steal you again, I will."

"Shut up."

Taehyung just chuckled, wrapping his arms around her completely, holding her close, as if he never planned to let go.

———

Taehyung paused at the entrance of the grand hall, his steps slowing as his gaze swept across the scene before him.

Chaos. Absolute, unfiltered chaos.

The once serene and well-kept hall was now a battleground of activity. Elder ladies were seated together, chatting animatedly while Grandma Kim handled them. Soomin was similarly engaged, nodding along to something one of the aunts was saying.

On the other side, Yeonjun was deep in conversation with a group of their cousins, laughing over some joke. Meanwhile, Minjun had found a swarm of children around his age, the group running around in unpredictable patterns, their giggles and shrieks filling the air like background music to the mayhem.

Taehyung blinked, his fingers twitching at his side.

Jungkook turned to look at him just in time to see his expression shift—calm composure replaced by something dangerously close to horror.

He took a small step back, his hand gripping hers a little tighter. "What," he whispered, "is happening?"

Jungkook barely suppressed her laugh. "A family gathering, mr Kim. You know... bonding, socializing, normal human interactions?"

Taehyung exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "There's too many of them. They're everywhere."

"They're our relatives."

"They're multiplying." His voice was grave, his brows furrowed in actual concern.

Jungkook rolled her eyes. "You're being dramatic."

He hated crowds. And this? This was chaos.

Still, to everyone else, he was the epitome of cool confidence—his expression composed, his steps unhurried.

But Jungkook knew better.

"Oh, look who finally decided to join us!"

The moment Grandma Kim's voice rang through the hall, all eyes turned to them.

Jungkook straightened, flashing a graceful smile, while Taehyung merely lifted his chin, his grip tightening just a fraction.

They walked in step, effortlessly in sync. Their matching outfits only amplified their presence—Jungkook's flowy red dress moving elegantly as they walked, Taehyung's deep red and black attire a stark contrast beside her. But it was their hands—the way his large palm enveloped hers, their fingers lazily intertwined—that caught everyone's attention.

Like a new bride, Jungkook's dress swayed around her as they moved, the slit revealing glimpses of their linked hands.

Aunties whispered. Cousins exchanged glances.

And Taehyung, despite the mask of calm he wore, whined internally.

Jungkook bit back a smile, sensing it. This man so composed, yet so dramatic when it came to the relatives. She tilted her head slightly, whispering just for him, "Breathe, Mr Kim."

Taehyung exhaled discreetly, side-eyeing her. "You owe me for this."

She smirked. "I already paid by holding your hand."

His lips twitched. He hated how much he loved her sass.

If Taehyung was fire, Jungkook was the flickering flame, equally untouchable.

Together, they were a picture—two halves of the same bold color, a seamless blend of elegance and dominance.

"Finally!" Yeonjun threw his hands up dramatically from where he sat. "The king and queen have decided to bless us with their presence."

An auntie smacked his arm. "They match so well," she sighed. "Look at them! Just perfect."

Minjun, nibbling on a biscuit, perked up. "You two look like a painting," he said, eyes wide. "Like the ones that tell a story."

Grandma Kim smiled warmly. "They always do, my dear."

Jungkook felt her ears heat up, but Taehyung, who—of course—looked smug as ever.

"Stop smirking," she muttered under her breath, nudging him lightly.

He leaned in, just enough for only her to hear. "Can't help it, darling. We look too damn good."

"Taehyung, Jungkook, come sit!" one of the elder ladies called out. "We were just talking about you two."

Jungkook, already knowing this would be a long conversation, gave Taehyung a look before guiding him forward. He followed reluctantly, his fingers subtly tightening around hers like she was his only lifeline in this overwhelming social storm.

As soon as they settled onto the couch, the questions began.

"Why so late in the morning?"

"Did you two sleep well?"

"You both look so fresh—especially Jungkook! What's the secret?"

Jungkook felt heat creep up her neck at the attention. "Ah, just—good rest, I suppose."

Taehyung leaned back comfortably, resting an arm along the back of the couch, dangerously close to Jungkook's shoulders. His smirk was subtle, but she saw it—the glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he watched her squirm.

He was enjoying this.

"Oh, she slept very well," Taehyung mused, tilting his head slightly. "Didn't you, darling?"

Jungkook shot him a sharp side-glance, her fingers discreetly pinching his thigh in revenge. But her sweet, composed smile never faltered.

"Of course, husband," she replied in an equally sweet tone, her hand not so gently patting his knee. "The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out."

The message was clear: Watch yourself.

Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek to stop his grin. The elders were oblivious to their silent battle, they continued showering them with attention.

Another lady nodded approvingly. "Taehyung, dear, you must be taking such good care of our Jungkook. She looks absolutely radiant!"

Jungkook felt Taehyung's hand slowly trail up the back of the couch, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder, sending shivers down her spine. He was pushing it.

"Of course," he drawled lazily, eyes fixed on her, only on her. "She's my wife. Isn't it my duty to keep her happy?"

Jungkook's hand itched to slap his knee again.

Instead, she turned to the aunties, her expression so sweet it was nearly sickening. "Yes, he tries his best."

Taehyung chuckled under his breath. Well played, sweetheart.

Taehyung's fingers brushed lightly against Jungkook's shoulder, tracing the edge of her sleeve with a touch so subtle it could have been an accident—except it wasn't. She knew better.

Jungkook fought the urge to shiver, keeping her expression perfectly composed as she picked up her cup of tea. But Taehyung? He was relentless.

His fingers moved deliberately.

A featherlight touch down her arm, resting at the curve of her elbow before retreating—only to return moments later. Every time she thought he was done, he'd start again, his fingertips drawing lazy circles against her skin. It was possessive, teasing, infuriating.

"Jungkook, dear," Grandma Kim's voice pulled her back, and she straightened immediately, gripping her teacup a little tighter. "You've done such a wonderful job with the arrangements. Everything looked perfect yesterday."

Jungkook managed a smile, trying to ignore the way Taehyung's knuckles grazed the side of her waist.

"I just wanted everything to feel special for Jimin," she said, keeping her voice light despite the warm fingers ghosting over her waist.

"Oh, you did more than that," one of the elder ladies chimed in, adjusting her shawl. "The decorations, the flowers, the food stations—everything was just flawless. You must have been exhausted!"

Jungkook smiled, careful and polite. "It was a team effort," she replied modestly, shifting in her seat slightly. But Taehyung? He only used the movement to his advantage, his hand settling more firmly at her side.

She sucked in a quiet breath, forcing herself to stay still.

Yeonjun took the opportunity to chime in. "Honestly, Sil, you should plan all our events from now on. The way people were praising everything yesterday, I was half-expecting the guests to start sending you business proposals."

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, lifting her teacup to her lips—partly to mask her flustered expression, partly to give herself something to focus on besides Taehyung's touch.

"Speaking of events," another auntie spoke up, eyes twinkling. "When are we planning yours, hmm?"

Jungkook nearly choked on her tea.

Beside her, she felt Taehyung go utterly still for a moment. Then, as if nothing happened, he shifted again—closer this time, his hand pressing slightly at her waist.

Jungkook didn't dare look at him.

"Oh, come now," the aunt continued, amused by Jungkook's silence. "You two have been married for a while now, haven't you? When are we getting some real good news?"

Jungkook looked devastatingly innocent, blinking up at the room with wide, sorrowful eyes.

"What should I do?" she sighed dramatically, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. "Every night, I sit there, looking pretty, waiting, hoping... but my husband?" She turned to Taehyung, expression all tragic longing. "He just works. And then—he sleeps."

For a moment, silence blanketed the room.

Then—

Laughter erupted.

The aunties clapped their hands, delighted. Yeonjun nearly spat out his tea. Grandma Kim raised a brow, amused but unsurprised. And Taehyung?

His gaze slowly—slowly—shifted to Jungkook, who was sitting there looking like an absolute angel.

An angel who had just publicly murdered his reputation.

"Oh my, Taehyung!" one of them scolded, shaking her head. "Ignoring such a beautiful wife? That's a crime!"

"Young men these days," another tutted. "No romance left in them."

Yeonjun wiped at his tears, gasping between laughter. "Hyung, this is embarrassing. Do better."

Taehyung finally snapped out of his shock, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. His wife—his sweet, innocent-looking wife—was smirking.

Subtly, but it was there.

Slowly, he leaned in, voice just loud enough for her alone. "Oh, you think you're funny?"

Jungkook fluttered her lashes at him. "A little."

His hand found her waist again, squeezing lightly, making her jolt just a fraction.

"You'll regret this later," he murmured, lips barely brushing her ear.

Jungkook shivered but refused to back down, lifting her chin. "Looking forward to it, husband."

The family continued laughing and teasing, showering Jungkook with support.

.....

The afternoon sun slanted through the grand windows of Kim Manor, releasing long golden stripes across the corridors. The guests had spread out, some napping, others lost in calm conversations, and the circus of the morning had finally simmered down.

But not for Taehyung.

No—he had spent the last three hours chasing Jungkook through the house.

Every time he got close, she'd slip away—ducking behind guests, laughing with Minjun, hiding behind Yeonjun (that traitor), all while throwing him smug glances over her shoulder.

She knew what she'd done this morning. She knew she had pushed him too far. And she knew he was going to make her pay for it.

Which was why she had run.

But Taehyung was nothing if not patient.

So when he finally spotted her, alone in the quiet corridor, her back to him as she fixed one of the flower vases by the railing, he struck.

Silent as a shadow, he closed the distance.

Jungkook had no idea what was coming until it was too late.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and before she could even yelp, she was lifted—her feet leaving the ground as Taehyung hoisted her up and sat her firmly onto the broad, marble railing of the corridor.

Jungkook's breath hitched, panic flashing in her wide eyes as her hands instinctively clutched at Taehyung's shoulders. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white as she dared a glance behind her—only to see nothing but air.

A long, dizzying drop straight to the ground floor.

"I—I'll fall," Jungkook whispered, voice tight, barely above a breath.

Taehyung only chuckled, the deep rumble of his voice curling around her like a dark promise. "Bold of you to think I'd ever let that happen?"

His hold on her waist tightened. He stepped in between her knees, pressing close, a silent reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere. That she was his to hold, to keep.

Jungkook swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Y-You shouldn't just lift me like that," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but it only came out breathless.

Taehyung smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Why not?" His voice dropped lower, rough, intimate. "You fit so perfectly in my arms."

Jungkook's grip on his shoulders tightened. "You're so—"

"So what?" he murmured, leaning in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Reckless? Dangerous?"

Jungkook shivered. "Annoying," she gritted out, turning her face away, but her fingers didn't let go.

Taehyung laughed softly, his nose grazing against her cheek. "Mmm, that's not what your hands are saying, Mrs Kim."

Jungkook hated the way her skin betrayed her, heat rushing up her neck. "Let me down," she said quickly, voice shaking—not from fear, but from him.

Taehyung hummed, his lips brushing dangerously close to her jawline. "Not yet."

Jungkook's breath hitched again. "W-Why?"

His hands trailed up, fingertips ghosting along her arms. He held her gaze, eyes dark and unreadable, something deep and endless swirling in them.

"You have been running all day."

Jungkook huffed, turning her head away. "I wasn't running—"

Taehyung tipped her chin back toward him. "Oh?" His thumb brushed against her jaw. "Then what were you doing?"

Jungkook's lips parted, but no words came out. Because the way he was looking at her now—dark-eyed, amused, hungry—had her pulse stuttering.

This was not how she had planned for things to go.

Finally, she cleared her throat, trying for nonchalance. "You looked busy," she said airily. "Didn't want to disturb you."

Taehyung let out a low hum, his fingers flexing on her waist. "That's funny," he mused. "Because I distinctly remember you disturbing me in front of my entire family this morning."

Jungkook bit her lip, her grip tightening on his shoulders.

Ah. So that's what this was about.

"Mr Kim," she said sweetly, her voice laced with feigned innocence. "I was just being honest."

His eyes gleamed. "Oh?"

Jungkook nodded, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "Of course. A wife should be truthful about her husband's shortcomings, don't you think?"

Taehyung tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then—

He leaned in.

Jungkook sucked in a breath as his lips brushed—barely—against her cheek, his warmth sinking into her skin.

"You're right," he murmured, voice like silk. "A wife should be truthful."

Taehyung's lips had barely ghosted over her cheek when the sharp trill of his phone shattered the moment.

Jungkook blinked, her breath catching as the warm tension between them cooled in an instant. The soft haze of teasing touches and murmured words faded, replaced by the sharp reality of the device buzzing insistently in his pocket.

Still perched atop the railing, Jungkook scowled as Taehyung pulled out his phone, his gaze flickering between the screen and her sulking expression. His smirk slipped just slightly, replaced by something unreadable—his jaw tensing, the warmth in his dark eyes dimming into something more guarded.

Jungkook's pout deepened. "Really?" she huffed, kicking her feet lightly, her legs still caged between his. "Right now?"

Taehyung flicked his eyes up at her, amused despite himself. "Duty calls, Mrs. Kim."

Jungkook scoffed. "Duty needs to learn some manners."

But as Taehyung pulled out his phone, Jungkook's eyes flickered downward, just close enough to catch the name flashing across the screen.

Lawyer Min-soo.

Her pout faltered.

A lawyer? Why was a lawyer calling Taehyung?

Jungkook tilted her head, blinking up at him. His brow furrowed just slightly, his lips pressed into a firm line, his whole posture a bit straighter—more guarded.

Without thinking, Jungkook spoke. "Who's Lawyer Min-soo?"

Taehyung's eyes flickered to hers, unreadable. For a second, he just looked at her—silent, calculating. Then, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"No one you need to worry about," he said finally, his voice smooth but distant.

Jungkook frowned, her fingers curling around the lapels of his shirt. "That's not an answer," she mumbled, her voice softer now, curiosity laced with something a little more serious.

Her lips parted slightly, wanting to push further, wanting to ask more. But before she could speak, his hand lifted.

Warm fingers brushed against her cheek, cupping her face with a gentleness that made her breath hitch. His thumb glided over her soft skin in slow strokes, a silent attempt at reassurance.

Don't worry, his touch seemed to say.

And against her better judgment, she leaned in.

Taehyung's eyes softened further, his gaze lingering on her as if trying to silently assure her of something he couldn't put into words. He leaned down, his lips pressing tenderly against her forehead.

A soft kiss.

"I'll be out for a few hours," he murmured against her skin.

Jungkook's fingers tightened slightly on his wrist, a quiet reluctance flickering in her eyes. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. The faintest trace of a smile curved his lips, but the tension in his shoulders told her that his thoughts were elsewhere, burdened by something he wasn't sharing.

Without a word, Taehyung's hands slid to her waist and he effortlessly lifted her off the railing. He set her down, making sure she was steady before guiding her back against the cool marble. His hands lingered a second longer than necessary, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of her dress.

Jungkook searched his face, trying to read the emotions hidden beneath his smooth exterior. But Taehyung was a master at keeping his walls high. Still, she nodded. "Okay."

For now.

Taehyung strode down the hallway, his confident steps echoing against the polished floors. His phone was already pressed to his ear by the time he disappeared from view, his voice low as he spoke to whoever was on the other end.

Jungkook remained in place. The kiss on her forehead had been warm but the look in his eyes—calm yet distant—lingered in her mind like an unanswered question.

Her thoughts raced.

She replayed the scene in her head, her mind picking apart every detail: the way his expression shifted the moment he saw the caller ID, the guarded tone of his voice, the way he brushed off her question as if it were nothing.

The unanswered questions tugged at her. Was it work-related? Something personal? Or something entirely different?

Jungkook bit her lip, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with her dress. Taehyung's words from earlier echoed in her mind—"No one you need to worry about."

But the unease in her heart said otherwise.

_______________

The black car rolled to a stop in front of the barren manor.

The atmosphere was heavy, oppressive even. The manor loomed in the distance, its once-grand façade now cloaked in decay. Ivy crawled up its stone walls like veins, and the windows, dark and shattered, seemed like the hollow eyes of a ghost staring back at the world.

Fog and mist covered the grand estate.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rot. The once-manicured gardens were now overtaken by weeds and creeping vines. The wrought-iron gates stood slightly ajar, as if inviting them to enter, or perhaps, to test their resolve.

Taehyung stepped out of the car, his polished shoes crunching against the gravel.

The creak of the car door closing echoed in the stillness, swallowed almost instantly by the thick silence of the place. He stood tall, his red shirt was an arresting splash of color against the gloomy backdrop.

The faint breeze played with his hair as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves.

At the threshold of the barren manor, stood three men in dark suits, their faces shadowed under the brim of their hats.

Lawyers.

Taehyung's sharp eyes swept over them, his expression unreadable, but the furrow of his brows betrayed the tension.

"Mr. Kim," one of the lawyers greeted.

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze briefly flickering to the manor before returning to the group. "Everything is in place?"

The lawyer hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "Yes. We've followed the instructions to the letter. But..." His voice trailed off, as though he was unsure how to continue.

"But?" Taehyung's tone was calm, yet it carried an edge sharp enough to cut through the thick air.

The lawyer swallowed, glancing back at the manor as if it might come alive at any moment. "It's... a peculiar place. The kind that holds onto things, if you know what I mean."

Taehyung's lips curled into the faint smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Places like this don't hold onto things," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "they bury them."

The men exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.

Taehyung took a step forward, his shoes sinking slightly into the damp earth.

"How long has it been?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.

"Twenty-one years," another lawyer replied.

"Twenty-one years," Taehyung repeated, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening for something only he could hear.

The faint rustle of the wind through the overgrown trees?

The whisper of memories long buried?

The lead lawyer cleared his throat nervously. "Mr. Kim, are you sure—"

"I didn't come here for certainty," Taehyung interrupted. He turned to face the man, his gaze piercing. "I came here to finish what was started."

The men fell silent again.

Taehyung stepped past them, his hand grazing the rusted iron gate as he pushed it open further. The creak of metal against metal echoed like a mournful cry, cutting through the eerie stillness. He paused just beyond the gate, his eyes scanning the overgrown grounds, the cracked stone path leading to the heavy oak doors of the manor.

"They called it a home once," he said softly, almost to himself. His voice carried a weight of emotion that was hard to place—regret? Anger? Sorrow?

"And now?" one of the lawyers ventured cautiously.

Taehyung turned his head slightly, his expression still unreadable. "Now, it's just a tomb," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the dead leaves that littered the ground.

"They say time heals all wounds," Taehyung murmured. He glanced back at the men, his gaze sharp. "But time can't heal what's been buried. It only hides it."

The lawyers exchanged hesitant glances. Taehyung adjusted the cuffs of his red shirt.

"Let's not waste time," he said, his tone cool and commanding. "We need to finalize the matter today."

One of the lawyers, an older man with graying hair, hesitated before stepping forward. "Mr. Kim, about... the name," he began carefully, choosing his words as if walking a tightrope. "Are you certain it should go to this individual?"

Taehyung turned his gaze to the man. "It's not about certainty," he replied, his voice steady. "It's about what's right."

The lead lawyer, a younger man with sharp features, cleared his throat.

"But there's risk, Mr. Kim. Naming someone... tying this place, this history, to them—it could stir things better left undisturbed."

Taehyung's lips curved into a faint humorless smile. "Some things were never meant to stay buried. No matter how deep you dig, no matter how many years pass—truth has a way of finding its way to the surface."

A tense silence fell over the group, the only sound the rustling of the wind through the overgrown trees. The manor stood ominously in the background, listening to every word exchanged.

"Very well, Mr. Kim. We'll proceed as instructed."

As the lawyers began gathering their things, Taehyung remained rooted in place, his eyes never leaving the manor. He could feel its presence, its history pressing down on him like a physical force.

As the men turned to leave, one of them paused, looking back at Taehyung with a faint hesitation. "And the name, sir... will you tell us who it belongs to?"

Taehyung's lips curled slightly, his expression still cold but with a flicker of something—perhaps a memory, perhaps a secret. He took out his wallet, his fingers brushed over the edges of a photograph, and for a brief second, he paused.

The photograph in his hand was of a person, captured in a moment of joy. Eyes shone with a radiance that seemed to defy the years and smile spoke of a life lived with purpose and passion.

Then, he handed the photo to the lawyer closest to him.

The lawyer's eyes widened as he studied the photograph. His fingers trembled slightly as he held it, glancing between the image and Taehyung, whose gaze remained fixed on the manor in front of him.

Taehyung's gaze never faltered, his eyes dark and distant, lost in thought. Staring at the mansion

"Everything that is buried here," Taehyung said quietly, "will be unearthed. And when it is, it will be that person's name that will carry it forward."

The lawyers exchanged uncertain glances but said nothing, retreating quietly to their car.

Taehyung didn't wait for the lawyers to leave completely. His eyes remained fixed on the manor, and once the car was out of sight, he turned his back to it and moved forward, stepping over the thick grass and damp earth.

He passed the overgrown garden, ignoring the thorned branches that reached out to grab at him as he headed toward the back of the estate.

The sound of the river grew louder as he approached its edge. The water flowed smoothly. The river had witnessed many things over the years—secrets whispered, lives lived, and lives lost.

Its waters knew too much, much like the manor that stood silent and tall behind him.

Taehyung's gaze shifted as he arrived at the small, secluded garden by the river. Here, the serenity of nature seemed almost out of place.

The flowers had wilted with age, and the path was barely discernible through the growing weeds.

At the very end of the overgrown path, stood two weathered gravestones, their names barely legible beneath the moss that had settled over them. The stones were worn, chipped by time and neglect, but still they stood—reminders that something, or perhaps someone, had been lost here.

Taehyung knelt down, his knees pressing into the soft earth as his fingers brushed gently over the carvings. He studied them for a long time, his brow furrowing as though he could read the hidden truths buried within the stone.

The air was thick with memories—ghosts of the past that never fully disappeared, even in death.

The mist around the garden seemed to grow thicker as though trying to conceal something that wanted to remain hidden.

"Twenty-one years," Taehyung muttered softly to himself.

"And still, not a word. Not a whisper."

He glanced over at the second gravestone, his lips tightening. The names were almost impossible to read now, the letters blurred by time, but he knew them well.

The faces—he would never forget their faces.

The faces of those who had been betrayed.

"They trusted him," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "They thought they were doing the right thing. But in the end... they never knew who they were dealing with."

Finally, Taehyung stood up. His gaze shifted to the distant manor, a ghostly presence looming against the fog.

The wind shifted, and for a brief moment, Taehyung could almost feel the presence of the two who rested here, as if they, too, were listening. He closed his eyes, his breath slow, allowing the past to settle around him.

With one last look at the graves, Taehyung turned away, his footsteps muffled by the mist that enveloped the garden.

The door of the past was closing but he knew it would soon swing open again, and when it did, everything that was hidden would rise to the surface.

—-
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