WARNINGS ⚠️

1.THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION ! And advised for adult audience.

2.𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱.!!!

3.𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁/𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀.!!!

WARNINGS ⚠️

!!IMPORTANT!!

This story is entirely original. Any similarities to other works are coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited and constitutes plagiarism. Respect the author's creativity.

The grand council hall of the European mafia was a sight to behold, a vast and imposing space designed to house the most powerful figures in the underworld. The intricate golden chandeliers overhead cast a faint glow over the polished black marble floor, their light barely softening the chilling atmosphere. At the end of the hall, the throne chair of Jeon Jungkook loomed, carved from obsidian and gilded with gold—a fitting seat for the emperor of the underworld.

The room buzzed with tension as mafia leaders, subordinates, and enforcers filled the space, their whispers echoing faintly. Everyone stood at attention, their gazes fixed on the center of power: Jeon Jungkook, seated with an aura of quiet menace. As they bowed in unison to the Emperor out of fear and respect.

At the center of this ominous space sat Jeon Jungkook, the emperor of the underworld, on his obsidian throne gilded with gold. His posture was unyielding, his gaze cold as ice as he surveyed the sea of subordinates, lieutenants, and council members assembled before him. His silence alone held a power that could drown any whispers of rebellion.

Beside him stood Jimin, his usual plain white shirt and black slacks starkly contrasting the opulent attire of those around him. Despite his steady exterior, Jimin's hands felt clammy. He had not been briefed on the nature of this meeting, and being summoned so suddenly near the throne was unnerving. He shifted uneasily, unsure why he had been summoned to stand near the throne amidst such an important gathering.

The Emperor's Call

"Kim Taehyung," Jungkook's cold voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

Taehyung, who had been standing toward the back of the room, froze instantly. His throat went dry as he stepped forward, his gaze cautiously meeting the emperor's. "Yes, Your Majesty," he managed, his voice tight.

Jungkook's dark eyes bore into him, unrelenting and razor-sharp. "Do you recall the lesson you learned when you dared to disrespect the emperor's right hand? Or has time softened your memory?"

The blood drained from Taehyung's face. His hand instinctively grazed his jaw, remembering the force of Jungkook's slap that had nearly dislocated it. "I—I remember, Your Majesty," he stammered.

"Then perhaps you'd like to share that memory with everyone present at the council," Jungkook said, his tone deceptively calm. But the edge in his voice sent shivers down everyone's spine.

Taehyung's hands trembled as he turned to address the room. "I... I had spoken out of turn about the right hand... about Park Jimin," he began, his voice shaky. "I questioned his authority, his position... and His Majesty punished me for it. I was reminded of my place. "I questioned the authority of the right hand. I degraded his position... and His Majesty made it clear that such actions would not be tolerated.""

He faltered, glancing at Jungkook, who gave a slight nod, urging him to continue.

"I was struck by His Majesty," Taehyung said, his tone laced with dread. "And I learned that disrespecting the emperor's shadow is the same as disrespecting the emperor himself."

The room fell silent as Jungkook rose from his throne. The air grew heavier, suffocating, as his presence loomed over everyone.

"Did I grant anyone here the privilege of disrespecting your emperor of this underworld?" Jungkook's voice echoed, venomous and sharp with fury.

A chorus of nervous "No, Your Majesty," rang out, but Jungkook's dark gaze remained unyielding.

"Then how," he spat, his voice rising with barely contained fury, "do I still hear whispers and fucking rumors about my shadow? About Jeon Jimin?"

The weight of his anger pressed down on the room, forcing several attendees to avert their gazes, their fear palpable.

"Who," Jungkook growled, his voice like thunder, "gave you all the audacity to degrade the right hand of the Jeon empire? To question his position, his worth, his loyalty?"

The hall was deathly silent, save for the faint shuffle of feet as some tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. "How dare you all even fucking speak about my right hand huh? He's the superior of this underworld get this into your skulls if not I know how to break skulls with my bare hands." Jungkook said getting his teeth clenching his jaw.

Jungkook motioned with a flick of his hand, and a group of his enforcers entered the hall, carrying a gilded container. The container's elegant exterior belied the horrifying truth of its contents: blood.

"The red attire you were all so eager to see on my shadow," Jungkook said, his voice calm but dripping with malice, "has been custom-made from the lives of those who dared to speak ill of Jeon Jimin."

Gasps rippled through the room as the enforcers opened the container, revealing the thick crimson liquid inside. They didn't flailed to notice how the emperor has addressed Jeon Jimin instead of Park Jimin this time.

Jungkook took the container himself, his movements deliberate and controlled. He approached Jimin, who stood frozen, his mind reeling.

Without a word, Jungkook tilted the container, letting the blood pour over Jimin's shoulders. The crimson liquid soaked his pristine white shirt, spreading rapidly and staining him completely.

"Red suits you, doesn't it?" Jungkook said, his voice dripping with mockery as he tilted one more container over Jimin's shoulders.

The sight was both horrifying and mesmerizing. Jimin stood still, his breath caught in his throat as the blood dripped down his arms, his chest, his back. He could feel its warmth, its weight, its symbolism. Jimin was all soaked and drenched in blood his white shirt line gone turned bloody red.

Jungkook stepped back, his expression cold and unreadable. "Jeon Jimin is in red now," he said, his voice echoing through the hall. "And I believe there won't be any fucking words of disrespect spoken about my shadow again."

His gaze swept over the room, daring anyone to challenge him. "Disrespecting Jeon Jimin," he continued, his tone lethal, "is disrespecting your emperor. And I do not tolerate disrespect."

A Walk to Remember

With that, Jungkook turned on his heel and walked away, his steps steady and unhurried. The hem of his coat brushed the blood-streaked marble floor as he ascended the dais and reclaimed his throne.

The crowd remained stunned, their fear tangible. For years, they had whispered about the emperor's ruthlessness, his unparalleled cruelty, but today, they had seen it firsthand.

Jimin, still standing in his blood-soaked attire, struggled to process what had just happened. He glanced at Jungkook, who sat regally, his gaze fixed ahead as if nothing had transpired.

Jimin's mind was a whirlwind as he stood there, drenched in the blood of those who had mocked him. The significance of Jungkook's actions wasn't lost on him. This wasn't just a display of power—it was a declaration, a message to the entire underworld. Jungkook had done this for him. Not just as any act of fear but also to engrave horrors on the minds of people about Jimin, it was a wrenched declaration. A deathly warning to the entire underworld.

Jungkook had gone to these lengths for him. Not as a husband, but as an emperor. It was a cold, brutal gesture, yet it carried a strange sense of protection.

Jimin's chest tightened. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet also shielded in a way he couldn't fully comprehend. Jungkook's actions were calculated, but there was no denying their impact.

The meeting adjourned shortly after, the attendees filing out in silence, their faces pale and their hands trembling. No one dared to speak a word, the weight of Jungkook's actions silencing even the boldest of them.

Jimin remained behind, his body rigid as he stared down at his stained shirt. The reality of what had just occurred began to sink in.

And for the first time, Jimin felt the full extent of what it meant to be Jeon Jungkook's shadow, but it also came with a shield—a terrifying, blood-soaked shield that only Jeon Jungkook could provide.

***

The next morning sun bathed the Jeon estate in a golden hue, the air alive with the anticipation of the final wedding ritual. The grand tradition of visiting the in-laws' home—a ritual steeped in hospitality and familial blessing—was all anyone could talk about. The chatter buzzed through the halls like an electric current, building with every passing moment.

Jeon Jungkook sat at the head of the breakfast table, stoic as ever, exuding a calm that betrayed none of his thoughts. Across from him, Namjoon and Seokjin were a picture of happiness, their post-wedding glow evident as they whispered to each other, their smiles uncontainable. The rest of the Jeon family watched the couple with varying degrees of admiration, envy, and in Minhae's case, satisfaction.

Jimin, standing silently by Jungkook's side as always, felt like a shadow. He watched as Seokjin's fingers brushed Namjoon's, their love so palpable it was suffocating. His mind, however, was racing for an entirely different reason.

"We will go first," Seokjin declared, his voice bright and filled with excitement. "To my family home."

Namjoon nodded in agreement, his confidence radiating as he added, "It's only right. Jin's family has prepared everything to welcome us."

Nobody objected. Even Jungkook, who typically exuded an air of authority over such decisions, remained silent. His dark gaze lingered on Namjoon for a brief moment before he gave the smallest nod of assent.

The Jeon family began preparing to leave for the Kim clan's estate. The grandeur of the event was apparent as the finest cars were brought forward and guards were stationed to ensure security. As the procession moved forward, Jungkook's reluctance to attend was clear. He hated being dragged into such ceremonial displays, especially when it involved Namjoon. But as the head of the Jeon family and the emperor of the underworld, his presence was non-negotiable.

The Jeon family had arrived, their convoy of black luxury cars lining the cobblestone driveway like an ominous procession. The Kim estate, with its sprawling gardens and towering marble columns, was alive with movement as staff and family members prepared to welcome their new son-in-law, Namjoon, and his illustrious family.

Jimin stood a few steps behind Jungkook, his usual position as the emperor's shadow. Yet today, he felt like a ghost. Everyone's attention was on Namjoon and Seokjin, the happy newlyweds who basked in the glow of their union. Meanwhile, Jimin's thoughts swirled with anxiety.

How would this ritual play out when it was their turn? Would Jungkook even attend? And what about Jihyun? How could Jimin possibly prepare his little brother for this?

The Grand Welcome

As the Jeon family stepped out of their cars, the Kim family lined up in an elegant row to greet them. Seokjin's parents, dressed in traditional attire adorned with intricate embroidery, bowed deeply to the Jeons, their smiles radiant.

"Welcome," Seokjin's father said, his voice warm yet filled with respect. "It is an honor to have the Jeon family gracing our estate."

Jungkook, ever the picture of cold authority, gave a curt nod in acknowledgment. His piercing gaze swept over the assembled family members, lingering on each of them for just a moment longer than necessary, as if assessing their worth.

Seokjin's mother stepped forward, holding a gilded box in her hands. Inside was the key to a brand-new white Bugatti, its polished surface gleaming in the sunlight. Gasps rippled through the gathered Jeon family members, even among those accustomed to luxury. Minhae's face lit up with delight, her pride evident as she nudged Yeji.

"This is extraordinary," Yeji whispered, her eyes wide with awe.

But Jimin didn't share their excitement. He stood silently, his chest tightening as he watched Namjoon accept the key with a gracious smile. He couldn't help but compare this grand gesture to the emptiness he felt. What would Jihyun offer Jungkook? A heartfelt bow? A hastily bought gift? The thought was humiliating.

The spectacle didn't end there. Seokjin's uncle and aunt stepped forward next, their presence commanding as they carried a small, ornate box. Inside lay the deed to a sprawling mansion nestled in the vineyards of Florence.

"This is our gift to Namjoon and Seokjin," the uncle announced, his voice filled with pride. "A sanctuary where they can create cherished memories together."

Applause erupted, and even the stoic Jeon family members exchanged murmurs of approval. Minhae's smile widened, her satisfaction palpable as she basked in the grandeur of her son's new life.

Jimin, however, felt like he was shrinking. He stood by Jungkook's side, his usual composed mask cracking under the weight of his thoughts. How could he possibly match this?

The Kim family escorted their guests into the estate's grand dining hall, a masterpiece of opulence. Chandeliers dripped with crystals, and the aroma of gourmet dishes filled the air. World-class chefs stood behind intricately decorated stations, presenting cuisines from every corner of the globe.

Namjoon and Seokjin sat at the center of the room, their love radiating as they shared whispered conversations and private smiles. Minhae and Yeji were engaged in lively discussions with the Kim family, their laughter ringing through the hall.

Jimin sat quietly at the far end of the table, feeling like an outsider. He glanced at Jungkook, who remained as silent as ever, his presence commanding yet distant.

As the meal progressed, Jimin's anxiety grew. The weight of the upcoming ritual pressed heavily on his shoulders. His thoughts were consumed by Jihyun—how would his younger brother manage this alone? Jimin's heart ached at the thought of burdening him.

Excusing himself from the table, Jimin slipped out of the hall and into a quiet corridor. He pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling as he typed a hurried message to Jihyun.

When Jimin finally found another moment alone, he knew he couldn't waste any more time. With trembling hands, he typed out a text to Jihyun.

"Jihyun, please forgive me for not telling you sooner, but I got married. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I need your help. There's a ritual we have to complete tonight, and I need you to prepare everything. You know what's required. Please do your best. I'm sorry for burdening you like this, but you're all I have. But please do this for hyung"

Hitting send, Jimin let out a shaky breath. He hated himself for putting this on Jihyun at the last minute, but he had no other choice.

As the grand buffet continued, Jimin stood near the edges of the room, his thoughts spiraling. He felt like an outsider, watching everyone celebrate and bond while he struggled to hold himself together.

His gaze drifted to Jungkook, who sat silently at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. Jimin wondered what Jungkook thought about all of this—about the rituals, about their marriage, about him.

But Jungkook didn't spare him a single glance. It was as if Jimin didn't exist.

And maybe, Jimin thought bitterly, that was for the best.

As he turned to head back to the dining hall, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Running away from your duties already?"

Jimin froze and turned to see Jungkook standing in the shadows, his piercing gaze fixed on him.

"I wasn't running," Jimin replied, his voice steadier than he felt. "I just needed a moment."

Jungkook stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Don't let them see weakness, Jimin. Not here, not ever."

Jimin swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand."

"Good," Jungkook said, his tone softer but no less commanding. "Now, get back to the table."

As they walked back together, Jimin stole a glance at Jungkook. For all his coldness, there was something almost reassuring about his presence. It was a strange realization—despite everything, Jungkook had never humiliated or degraded him. Even today, when Jimin felt like he was drowning, Jungkook's words, though sharp, had steadied him.

A tiny flicker of warmth sparked in Jimin's chest, a feeling he didn't quite understand.

When they returned to the table, the mood was as vibrant as ever. Namjoon and Seokjin were beaming, their happiness infectious. Jimin forced a smile, his mind still preoccupied with the ritual that awaited them.

As the meal concluded, the Kim family stood to see their guests off. Seokjin's father addressed Jungkook with a bow. "Your Majesty, it has been an honor to host you. Your presence graces our family."

Jungkook nodded curtly, his expression unreadable. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The Jeon family began to leave, their convoy of luxury cars waiting to take them back to the estate.

As the cars rolled through the streets, Jimin sat beside Jungkook, his hands clenched in his lap. He couldn't shake the image of Jihyun struggling to prepare for the ritual. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on him, but he knew he couldn't let it show.

Jungkook, seated beside him, glanced at Jimin briefly. "Stop overthinking," he said, his voice low but firm.

Jimin looked at him, startled. "I wasn't—"

"You were," Jungkook interrupted, his gaze fixed ahead. "Focus on what needs to be done."

Jimin nodded, swallowing his nerves.

***

The evening sun cast a soft orange glow over the sleek convoy of black SUVs as they arrived at Jimin's residence. Unlike the grandeur of the Kim mansion, this house was modern and understated—neither humble nor extravagant. It was far from the lavish estates the Jeon family was accustomed to.

Jimin's heart raced as the vehicles came to a halt. Each passing second tightened the knot of anxiety in his chest. He had no idea what Jihyun, his freshly graduated brother, had managed to prepare. The poor boy had no resources—no black card, no money transferred as unfortunately Jihyun bank account was facing some technical issue, and only his savings with Yoona to scrape together whatever they could.

The Jeon family exited the vehicles one by one, their impeccable attire glinting under the streetlights. Minhae stepped out first, her gaze scanning the house critically. Namjoon and Seokjin followed, their smiles warm yet tinged with curiosity. Even Yeji raised her eyebrows in faint judgment.

Jimin kept his face carefully neutral, though internally, he was drowning in nervousness. His grip on the door tightened as he watched Jihyun rush out of the house with Yoona trailing close behind.

The Awkward Welcome

"Welcome, welcome!" Jihyun called out, his voice a little too loud and his bow a little too deep. Yoona mimicked his bow, her hands folded respectfully as she added, "We're so honored to have you all here."

Jihyun straightened up and locked eyes with Yeji. Recognition flickered in his gaze, and an idea quickly formed in his mind. Of course! Jimin hadn't told him much, but Yeji's presence made perfect sense. His brother must have married her. Because it was surely not Tanzeela so may be things didn't worked out between them and that's why his hyung got married to Jeon Yeji. And Jimin had mostly been into womens so it made perfect sense. Why else would the emperor's step-sister be here, standing so elegantly among the Jeon family?

Smiling broadly, Jihyun stepped forward. "Welcome to the family, sister-in-law," he said, his tone warm and confident. Jihyun said, smiling as he stepped forward with two elegantly wrapped black boxes. "Please accept these gifts as a token of our gratitude and welcome."

The world seemed to come to a screeching halt.

Jimin's breath hitched as his eyes widened in pure horror. "Sister-in-law?" he thought, his mind reeling.

The world seemed to tilt for Jimin. His face turned ashen, his pulse racing in panic as he processed Jihyun's words.

"Jimin Hyung, congrats!" Jihyun added, his tone cheerful as he held the boxes out to Yeji.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Yeji froze, her perfectly manicured hand hovering in mid-air. Namjoon's head snapped toward Jihyun, his eyes alight with restrained laughter. Seokjin blinked rapidly, struggling to process what he'd just heard. Minhae's jaw clenched, her lips thinning into a dangerous line.

"No, no, no!" Jimin blurted out, rushing forward and bowing deeply. "Please, forgive us! This is all a misunderstanding. I'm so sorry!"

Minhae's voice cut through the air like a whip. "How dare you bring such disrespect to His Majesty?" Her sharp gaze landed on Jimin like a physical blow.

Jimin's heart sank as he fell to his knees, bowing even lower. Fuck he should have mentioned he got married to the emperor. But may may be he didn't wanted to accept it deep down, the reason he failed to admit this to his brother ? But nevertheless lives costing disaster had happened on the first encounter itself. One thing was sure may be his blood was next which is going leashed for putting the Emperor in such an embarrassing situation.

To be continued......

Share your views guys ?

Okay guys so here's the thing I felt like needed to clear.

Though Jimin is a multi millionaire with fat bank balance in his black card but jihyun's bank account got some technical issues that's why Jimin was not able to send the money. And for the second point Jihyun and yoona both are freshly graduated students who lived in Harvard Cambridge so it's natural that they won't keep unrequited extra cash they used whatever they had for the gifts.