60

Taehyung

3 weeks later

My head was buried in Jungkook's pillow.

It still smelled like him.

I refused to have it washed.

I needed something of him, and his sweet vanilla smell was the only thing left of his.I inhaled and felt my eyes burn.

I felt pathetic.

I was too far gone, almost three months without Jungkook and I was slowly losing myself.

Every day, it was worse, it got harder until I didn't know how to live anymore. I forgot to eat, to sleep. Just stared at the wall, lost in the memories of my Angel.

I never stopped searching.

Not a single day but no matter how much I searched, how far I looked, he was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he never existed. Never here, I wondered if it was all a dream sometimes.

I wondered if Jungkook had been here.

With me.

But he was here.

I could still smell him, see him sometimes.

Hear Jungkook's laughter and sweet voice.

Jungkook was everywhere but still gone.

And I was empty without him.

Was that how my father and Hae-jin felt?

The whole house had been in a despairing mood.

Nobody talked.

We all stopped caring about everything else. The only one we cared about and thought about was Jungkook. Jimin lost a friend who was more like a brother, with Hae-sook, Jungkook was a son. Another child to pamper and love.

My men felt like a failure while I lost the man who was my everything.

With a sigh, I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling. Through my pain, I thought about what Jungkook was going through. His pain was no comparison to mine. It hurt more knowing that he was hurting.

My pain didn't matter, but Jungkook's did. I felt his pain, it was enough to break me. Byungchan used to call but it had been three weeks since his last call.

Three weeks of nothing but silence from the other side. I realized that I was somewhat thankful for his daily call. At least I knew Jungkook was alive. Now, I didn't know. I knew nothing, all I could do was hope but hope was such a silly emotion, how could I hope when I felt so helpless and hopeless?

It was all jaded hope.

Instead of hoping, I chose to believe in our love. Maybe it was strong enough to keep Jungkook alive. I knew that when I found Jungkook, he would never be the same again. I also knew that when the time came, I wasn't going to give up on him.

I would heal Jungkook again as I did before.

I would teach Jungkook how to live, to smile, laugh, and love again.

Byungchan may have clipped his wings but I was going to make sure he would fly again.

~~~

2 weeks later

I stood in the driveway and watched Yoongi going through the lock and opened the door.

I walked inside the house, my men following behind me. The house was quiet, almost seeming empty, the traitorous woman in the living room betrayed the perception of the house is empty. Her back was to us, at the sound of our footsteps she swivelled around quickly, her hand going to her chest in panic. Her eyes flared in fear and took several steps back hitting the wall.

"Hello, Nayeon, never pegged you to betray me." I started, walking further into the house, making the air seem more dangerous and deadly.

Nayeon trembled against the wall, her whole body quaking with terror. To say I was surprised that she came back was an understatement. She must have known what to expect the moment she stepped foot back into Daegu but still returned and now she would lead us right to Jihoon.

"How was your trip?" I asked nonchalantly as I took a seat on the sofa in front of her.

I sat back and crossed my ankle on my opposite knee, watching her reaction like a hawk.

"You... what... are...?" she stuttered, looking wildly around the room and at my men.

She looked for an escape, but there was none.

Not this time.

It didn't stop her from trying, though.

She ran into the kitchen, and I sighed in frustration.

"I don't have time for a game of cat and mouse, Nayeon."

I called out loudly enough that my voice echoed across the walls. I heard her scream, and yell at someone to let her go. Rubbing my face in frustration, I waited for her to come back to the living room. I turned around to see Yoongi dragging her back as she flailed. Nayeon threw her body on the ground, trying to stop Yoongi. Instead of stopping, he just grabbed her arm, dragging her body across the floor.

"No. Let me go! D@mn you! You're hurting me." She whimpered as Yoongi deposited her in front of me.

"If you cooperate, I won't hurt you," I replied stoically, levelling her with a glare.

She flinched and scrambled backwards, shaking her head, she whispered, "I don't know anything about Jungkook."

My eyebrows raised high in surprise, a heartless chuckle vibrated from my chest. "How do you know I'm here for Jungkook?"

Her eyes widened, snapping her mouth shut.

Too late, she was already caught.

"Tell me where Jihoon is and I will let you go," I smirked, sitting forward so that my face was mere inches from hers.

She shook her head repeatedly. "I don't know. I don't know. Please, I'm telling the truth."

"I hate when people lie," I tsked before sitting back, giving the frightened woman some breathing space.

"I'm not lying," she begged, her eyes wide with fright.

She looked at my men, her eyes begging as if asking someone to help her. No one was going to help her, she was at my mercy.

Traitor.

"I know the things you have participated in, every single detail. You might have an innocent face but you are far from innocent," I hissed, my voice getting louder with each word.

Jihoon was part of the human trafficking business with Byungchan to please the Mexican Cartel. I was surprised to know that this traitor was part of it, she trained the victims to become slaves. It made me sick to think that a woman I trusted to be part of Vante would do that to another. She fed me reports that she had a hand in. Those poor innocent victims, it made my heartache to know that Jungkook could have been one of those victims. Her shaking worsened, face crumbling as tears slid down her cheeks.

It didn't faze me one bit.

Her fear was useless, she was helpless.

"Start talking!" I bellowed.

Her back straightened as she flattened herself against the wall, cowering in the corner. When she said nothing, Yoongi stepped forward and pulled her up. Seokjin brought a chair and placed it in front of me. She fought Yoongi as he pulled her down on the chair. She screamed and cried when Seokjin tied her to the chair, rendering her useless and at our mercy.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered in horror when I took my gun out. "Please. Believe me, I don't know anything."

"I'm not going to hurt you," I simply replied, my voice as emotionless as before.

"Have mercy," she begged when I stood up, towering over her much smaller body.

"As I said, I'm not going to hurt you," I scoffed at her attempt to beg.

If only she would talk.

Leaning forward until our faces were close, I continued, "I will never hurt a woman."

It was the truth.

I would never hurt a woman or even lay a hand on them in an attempt to kill them.

It wasn't how my men and I worked.

Her body sagged against the ropes, a look of relief flashed in her eyes.

"You won't hurt me? Will you let me go? Please, I don't know anything."

This time I smiled.

A cold, heartless smile.

Her eyes widened.

The look of distress on her face almost made me laugh.

How naïve of her.

Panic and horror painted her face as she trembled with the uncertainty of her fate.

I waited.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

With each passing second, her panic grew.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

She cried silently. I just smiled, or was it a half sadistic smile?

Probably.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

I heard the door behind us open.

It closed with a bang, I heard the sound of high heels clicking against the hard floor.

"Did someone call me?" the intruder said to my back.

I felt the smile in the intruder's voice.

I didn't answer.

My gaze stayed on Nayeon, unflinching. Although she was looking behind me now.

Her already wide eyes widened more.

"I said I wasn't going to hurt you, but that doesn't mean someone else can't," I murmured so only she could hear.

"No, no, no," she whispered in alarm as I pulled back, my back straightening as I stood to my full height, "What are you going to do to me?" Her voice trembled, but the words were spoken clear enough for everyone to hear.

"You know me so well, babe."

The words were softly spoken but the voice held such dark promises. I took a step back and watched Nayeon shake in fear. Dread filled her expression, her lips paled and quivered with the effort to keep her tears at bay. I turned around and faced the intruder.

The side of my lips tilted up in a small smile.

Only he would dress up for a job like this. Black leather jacket, tight black leather pants, red heels.

The hood of the jacket was over his head, covering half of his pixie face.

It was used to camouflage his appearance.

One second passed.

Another.

He lifted his hands and pulled the hood down, showing his face. His face was as flawless as ever, with his plump lips painted red. Only this time, she looked different, his expression showed no emotion.

He looked straight at the tied-up woman behind me.

A smile spread across his lips, although it was nothing close to welcoming or gentle.

No, it was a sadistic smile.

A predator ready to hunt its prey.

The man standing in front of me looked very much like the killer he was.

Jimin.

He worked undercover for me. someone who did my dirty work. A trained assassin.

And by dirty work, I meant torturing the answers out of women who refused to cooperate.

She took a step forward.

Another.

A few more steps until she walked past me and stood in front of Nayeon.

"What you need to know is that by the time I'm done, you won't remember your name. Or the difference between living and dead," he sing-songed, his voice taunting and deadly. Leaning forward until their faces were close, noses almost touching, Jimin's lips curled up, "I never really liked you, Nayeon. 'Today, I am your worst nightmare, babe.'"

Those were the same lines Jimin fed her captives.

They would tremble in fear and sometimes piss their pants

The reaction she got from Nayeon was no different.

Jimin was good at his job.

Better than most.

He did his job with a passion.

Jimin had the same darkness that my men and I had in us.

He craved blood.

Jimin needed to kill.

"Your tools and everything you need is in the bag next to your feet," Seokjin announced, finally speaking up.

"Thank you," Jimin replied, not glancing away from his captive.

"She's all yours," I muttered before turning around and striding away.

Shaking my head, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension there. I walked out of the house with my men following closely behind me. Jimin worked alone, not that he needed help. Yoongi closed the door as I leaned against the wall.

"So?" Seokjin asked.

My reply was simple, "We wait."

That was exactly what we did.

We waited.

It was mostly quiet but if I listened carefully, the muffled screams could be heard. They filled our ears as we stayed by the door. It shouldn't have taken him hours to break Nayeon - but knowing Jimin, he was just taking his time and enjoying this.

The traitor deserved it.

I could imagine what was going on in there but I stopped thinking after a few minutes. Jimin liked to get creative, he always surprised us, whatever he did was always effective. At the end of the day, we got the answers we needed, that was all that mattered.

How we got it didn't matter.

After three hours, although I was surprised Nayeon lasted this long, the door finally opened. Jimin walked out, looking fresh and surprisingly decent from what just occurred inside. But then again, Jimin was a clean assassin.

As clean as a killer could get, Jimin stopped beside me, his face impassive as he stared straight ahead. His sadistic smile was gone and now replaced with a more contented, relaxed one. He removed his black leather gloves. They were most definitely stained with blood, but the thing with black was that the blood we spilt never showed on it.

He passed the gloves to Hoseok, who was standing beside him, eyes on his hands as he inspected his nails, "I need another manicure," he muttered and tsked.

Shaking my head, I glanced at the door.

Jimin noticed where my attention was and sighed.

"Jihoon is hiding at the Black Club."

My eyebrows furrowed in question, "The what?"

"The one and only 'Black Club.' They're working with Byungchan. Undercover. No wonder they're helping hide Jihoon," Jimin replied with an exaggerated huff.

"Nayeon finally admitted it?" I asked quietly.

Jimin nodded. "It took me a little longer to break her." He shrugged before continuing. "No matter how long it takes, by the time I'm done with someone, they are always left broken."

That was true.

Jimin was good at what he did.

He liked to call himself 'Nightmare.'

He earned that name, though.

"She's surprisingly pretty loyal, the fvckin' traitor," Jimin added.

Unfortunately, when it came to life and death, her loyalty flew out of the window.

"Is she alive?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

"Well, she was when I left... I thought it would be nice to let her think about her life. I was in a generous mood, lucky her. But she stopped breathing about two minutes ago," Jimin replied dryly, looking down at his watch.

Seokjin scoffed, "Generous mood," he muttered under his breath.

Jimin heard and sent him a glare. "All of a sudden, I'm not in a generous mood anymore. Don't test me, Seokjin."

He turned back to me and lost his glare in the process. His face was still cold, there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"About Jungkook, I'm sorry," he said regretfully, "I know that I didn't get to help the first time, I can't imagine what Jungkook is going through right now." My chest tightened at his words, my body grew cold. Shaking his head, Jimin glanced down before continuing. "I know the type of man Byungchan is. Go. Find him quickly. Mom and I will be waiting at home."

When I opened my eyes, I saw Jimin nodding, we fell into silence, he stepped off the porch.

"If you need any other help - for anything, let me know," he said, his back straight, a look of determination and true loyalty on his face. I struggled to breathe, my chest heaving with the effort to be in control. I stared at Jimin's retreating and after a few minutes, I finally found myself calming down.

Although my blood still roared with the need to kill, I kept the rage underneath the layers on my skin. I glanced back at the door. I should have just walked away and let Hoseok take care of the cleaning, but curiosity got the best of me. I stepped back into the house and was assaulted with the smell of blood. I stared at the woman tied to the chair. Or what was left of the woman.

No remorse.

No emotions at all.

I approached her slowly and stopped a few feet away. Seokjin swore behind me, "Fvck yeah. Now that's what I call art."

"Creativity at its best," Hoseok added quietly, and Namjoon chuckled.

I just stared, her head fell limply against the back of the chair, her body sagging as her blood poured around her. She was missing all the fingers on her right hand. All her nails from her left hand, her missing fingers were on the floor in a pool of blood. She was missing an eye and it looked like it had been carved out most painfully and horrifyingly as humanly possible.

Not that I was surprised, her other eye stared straight ahead, lifeless. The light had left her, her face was covered in blood, clothes were soaked with it.

The smell of death hung in the air.

An unfortunate death for an unfortunate situation.

"Hoseok... Don't clean this mess. Let them see." I ordered, turning away from the lifeless woman.

I walked out of the house and took a deep breath as soon as I hit the fresh air.

I felt Seokjin beside me, "What's next?"

"The Black Club," was my only answer.