"Open your mouth and speak!" the brunet bellowed, gripping the man’s chin with an unrelenting force. "Who sent you to spy on us?" His voice reverberated in the dimly lit room, a blend of menace and impatience. The captive winced, his face contorting in pain as the brunet's nails dug cruelly into his skin. Tears pooled in his eyes, threatening to spill.

"N-no one sent me, V! Y-you have to trust me..." he stammered, his voice quivering with desperation.

Taehyung—known to many as V—exhaled sharply, his frustration palpable. He released the man’s chin with an air of disdain and turned to the woman standing beside him. Her gaze was cold, almost indifferent, as though she were observing a mundane task.

"Kill him, Y/n. He’s of no use," Taehyung commanded, his tone icy and resolute.

Y/n inclined her head, her movements measured as she drew her gun. The distinct click of it being loaded echoed ominously in the silence. A smirk ghosted her lips as she raised the weapon, aiming it squarely at the man’s head. His expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his breath hitching audibly.

Taehyung leaned against the wall, his palms pressing firmly against its cold surface, as though grounding himself. He smirked darkly when the man’s frantic pleas shattered the tension.

"D-don’t kill me, please! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!"

Amusement flickered across Taehyung’s face as he turned, his predatory gaze locking onto the man. "Speak," he ordered, his voice cutting like a blade.

The captive’s words tumbled out in a panicked rush. "Y-Yakuza sent me..."

Y/n didn’t flinch, her gun still trained on him. Her finger hovered over the trigger, and Taehyung’s jaw tightened at the mention of his rival.

"Hee-sung," Taehyung spat through gritted teeth, his fury barely contained. Y/n’s grip on the gun tightened in silent acknowledgment. Meeting Taehyung’s gaze, she gave a subtle nod. Without hesitation, she turned back to the man and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The deafening sound lingered in the room, and the man’s body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Y/n lowered her gun, her expression impassive as she watched the light fade from his eyes.

Taehyung turned to Jackson, his tone curt. "Clean this up."

With that, he strode out of the room, Y/n following close behind. He moved with purpose, his steps heavy with barely restrained rage, until he reached his office. Throwing the door open, he stormed inside. Y/n paused momentarily, shaking her head in quiet resignation before stepping in after him.

As the door clicked shut, Y/n observed him with a mixture of concern and understanding. Taehyung’s shoulders were slumped, his usual commanding presence momentarily diminished.

"Taehyung," she called softly, her voice laced with empathy. It was enough to draw his attention. He turned, his expression weary yet appreciative.

"Y/n," he murmured.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her gaze searching his face.

A faint, humourless smile tugged at his lips. "I’m fine. Thank you."

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping closer to him. "That’s the generic response every leader gives. Taehyung, it’s just us here—no audience, no expectations. You don’t have to pretend with me."

Taehyung sighed heavily, leaning against the edge of the desk as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear. "I don’t even know why my father spared him," he began, his voice low but seething. "Hee-sung killed my brother—right in front of us. And yet, he let him go. Now, look at him! Sending spies, scheming… It’s obvious he’s planning something!" His fist collided with the desk in a fit of anger, the sound sharp and jarring.

Y/n closed the distance between them, her hands gently gripping his arms. "Look at me," she urged, her tone firm yet calming. "Take a deep breath, Taehyung."

He glared at her, his frustration simmering. "This isn’t the time for breathing exercises, Y/-"

"Taehyung," she interrupted, her grip tightening just enough to ground him. "Do as I say."

His jaw tightened, but her unwavering gaze disarmed him. Reluctantly, he complied, taking measured breaths until some of the tension ebbed from his body.

"You are Kim Taehyung," Y/n reminded him, her voice steady and deliberate. "The man everyone fears. The man who doesn’t flinch when faced with danger. Whatever Hee-sung is plotting, we’ll handle it—together. We’re fighters, not quitters."

A faint sigh escaped Taehyung as he leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. His hands found their place at her waist, his touch gentle despite the storm raging within him.

Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile as her fingers threaded through his soft hair. "Everything will be alright," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind.

Taehyung hummed in response, his warm breath brushing against her neck, sending an unbidden shiver down her spine. They both knew the unspoken truth—they cared for one another far more than they dared admit. But in their world, where danger loomed at every corner, their feelings were a liability they couldn’t afford.

Their shared moment was shattered by a sudden shout. "Kim fucking Taehyung!"

Taehyung’s head snapped up, his reflexes swift as he pulled out his gun and aimed it at the intruder. Relief flooded his features when he recognised the familiar face.

"Jin, for the love of—why are you shouting my name like that?!"

Jin rolled his eyes, utterly unbothered by the weapon pointed at him. "It’s 9 a.m., and everyone’s waiting for breakfast. But here you are, playing Romeo and Juliet with Y/n."

Taehyung groaned, shoving the gun back into his waistband. "We’re not—there’s nothing between us," he snapped, glaring at both Jin and the smirking Jisoo behind him.

"Biggest lie of the year," Jisoo quipped, earning a scowl from Taehyung.

As the group dispersed toward the dining room, Jisoo lingered with Y/n. "You like him, don’t you?"

Y/n’s laughter was hollow. "It doesn’t matter," she said quietly. "Even if we feel the same, we can never be together."

Jisoo’s expression softened. "Then why did you break up before?"

Y/n’s heart clenched at the memory. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Maybe you should ask him that."