2

Taehyung

I opened the door to my bedroom and slammed it behind me. Seokjin had been busy with the clubs' problems, to make sure all our businesses were running smoothly, so house check-ups fell on me. That was Seokjin's job and I didn't trust anyone else to take care of it. So I went myself. Shifting my weight on my feet, I jerked at my tie hard until it came undone and I pulled it off my neck. As I was taking off my suit jacket, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Taking it out, I saw Hobi's name flashing on the screen.

"What is it?" I growled into the phone.

"Boss," he said, sounding panicked and out of breath. I almost rolled my eyes.

"What is it?"

"Boss… "

I didn't hear the rest of his sentence, instead of turning him out.

My eyes widened when I noticed a white cloth extending from beneath my bed. I walked closer, the phone still at my ear.

When I reached the cloth, I crouched down and touched it.

As I lifted the covers around the bed and looked down, my mouth fell open at the sight, then anger coursed through me.

I could feel my eyes narrowed into slits.

A boy.

A dirty-looking boy was hiding under my bed.

"Boss? Boss, are you there?" Hobi yelled through the phone.

"What?" I bellowed as I kept my eyes on the little intruder.

He jumped at my tone and started shaking, his chin trembling and tears forming at the corners of his eyes. I bared my teeth at him and he tried to scoot away from me but I didn't give him a chance. Grabbing onto his white, shredded, dirty dress, I held his still. He wasn't going anywhere.

I fisted the material in my hand and pulled until he was no longer under the bed.

"Boss! Someone broke into the estate," Hobi screamed through the phone, sounding frustrated.

I smiled. The boy kept his knees against his chest, then wrapped his arms around his head as if to protect himself from me.

I laughed at the thought. Poor boy. He didn't even know what he'd gotten himself into. Breaking into the house of the Vante's boss—and then hiding under his bed.

"Boss?" Hobi said, sounding confused.

"I got this," I growled through the phone, glaring at the intruder. I ended the call before he could answer.

Putting it back in my pocket, I grabbed his arm and pulled him upward. He whimpered painfully and his sniffles filled the room. He kept his head down, his hair falling like a curtain around his face, shielding him from me.

When I tried to pull him close, he resisted and tried to twist away. I tightened my hold on his small wrist and I knew I was hurting him. His wincing told me so, but I didn't let go.

If I wanted to, with barely any effort, I could break his hands in half.

I let him go and took a step back. He did exactly what I expected. He ran straight toward the door.

I smirked, pulling my gun from the back of my pants. I pointed it at him and spoke calmly.

"Another step and I'll shoot you."

He stopped.

His body trembled badly and I knew it was from fear.

What he didn't know was that I fed on fear.

I laughed and it sounded harsh to my ears.

He jumped but didn't run for his life.

"Turn around."

He didn't turn around.

Red hot anger coursed through my body.

Nobody dared to ignore me.

Yet, this boy…

"Turn around," I shouted at his back.

My little captive jumped again but this time he swivelled around quickly. He kept his face down.

I wanted to see him.

I blinked at the sudden thought, what?

Shaking my head, my brow furrowed as I watched him. What was he doing here? Why was he here? By the look of him, he didn't belong in a place like this. Not in a Mafia house. Especially not in my house.

"Look at me," I said before I could stop myself.

My fingers tightened around the gun as I waited for him to do as he was told. He took longer than I expected. If he was one of my men, I would have already shot him for disobedience. But I couldn't bring myself to move.

For some unknown reason, the way he covered his face with his long dark hair, looking so childlike, made my chest hurt.

What the fvck?

"Look at me," I said again, this time my voice grating.

He slowly brought his head up and I saw doe-like eyes peeping through his hair. I sucked in a breath and took a step towards him.

As he continued to lift his head, I saw a tiny round nose and then pink lips that had dried blood on them. His cheeks were round but bruised. I couldn't see his face properly, it was so covered with dirt and bruises. He was hugging his arms around himself, his body shaking with silent tremors.

The little intruder was frightened.

He was a tiny boy and I felt my heart twisting at his fragile state.

Taking a step forward, I saw dark brown eyes peeping up at me under his long lashes. He blinked away tears as he saw me approaching, my gun still pointed at him. When I was close, I slowly brought the gun down and glared at him menacingly. When he flinched, I felt my resolve slipping.

He took a step back and I growled, "Don't move."

He flinched again.

My heart was beating fast in my chest.

What the fvck is wrong with me?

I moved closer until our chests were almost touching. I felt him tremble against me, he whimpered in fear. He hugged his body tighter and folded into himself, as if he was trying to hide from me, even in plain sight.

I brought my empty hand up to his face. He winced but didn't move. Silent tears streamed down his cheek and I touched a drop, thumbing it away. He froze and I felt him suck in a breath. I froze too. Something was wrong with me. Before I could stop myself, my hands went to the strands of hair hanging over his face. I slowly moved his hair to the side until his whole face was visible to me. Maybe my heart stuttered for a moment.

I didn't know.

He slowly lifted his gaze until he was staring at me with glassy eyes, the colour of warmth.

I swallowed hard, slowly moving my thumb over his soft cheek. When he winced in pain, I let him go, taking several steps back.

A wave of emotion ran through me. First sadness, then tenderness, and finally anger. I decided to hang on to the anger and let it consume me.

There was no place for tenderness in my life. Tenderness made you weak. Any emotion other than anger made you weak.

And I couldn't be weak. I had thousands of people behind me and I had thousands to lead.

So, I grabbed on to the anger and let it course through me until my body was shaking.

Red hot anger.

I glared at him and pointed my gun at him again. His eyes widened and he let out a cry, his hand coming up to his chest.

He shook his head repeatedly, his mouth opening and closing silently as if he wanted to say

something.

"Who the fvck are you and why are you here?" I growled, my voice low, but my tone dangerous. It spoke volume and it was obvious the boy understood it.

If he didn't give me an answer that I was satisfied with, I would shoot him without a second thought.