The room was thick with smoke and secrets. Men in sharp suits played poker, their laughter hiding the tension that pulsed through the underground casino like an electric current. Your eyes didn’t wander, not even once. You weren’t here to gamble.

You were here to destroy Jeon Jungkook.

You stood at the bar, posture relaxed but senses sharpened. Every move, every word, every breath you took was calculated. You weren’t YN, the undercover cop who spent years clawing her way into this hellhole for justice. Tonight, you were "Ria"—the street-hardened hacker-for-hire whose reputation got her an audience with the devil himself.

And there he was.

Jeon Jungkook. The heir to the Jeon syndicate. A man they whispered about like a ghost story. Leaning back on the leather couch like he owned the air you breathed, sharp jawline on display, black ink creeping from beneath his collar. Eyes like midnight. Cold, unreadable, dangerous.

You hated that your pulse quickened.

He didn’t look at you. Not yet. But he would. He always did.

Minutes passed. A few card games later, one of his men leaned in and whispered something. Jungkook finally turned. His gaze swept the room, locked with yours, and stopped time.

He gestured with two fingers. A silent command.

You followed.

They led you through an elevator, two guards in front, two behind. At the top floor of the private lounge, Jungkook sat behind a desk made of black glass. You stood tall.

"Ria, right?" His voice was smoother than you expected. Calm, almost teasing. “I hear you're the best at breaking into places you shouldn't be."

“I don't break in,” you said, tone flat. “I make doors where there are none.”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. “Interesting.”

“You didn’t call me here for small talk,” you added.

“No,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on the desk. “I called you here because someone has been leaking information from my inner circle. And you’re going to find out who.”

“And what if I say no?”

He smiled then. “You won’t. Because you want something, too.”

Damn it.

He was right.

You wanted access—more than this petty task. You needed to get close enough to find out what happened the night your brother died. The police report said he was an innocent victim in a gang crossfire. But the whispers on the street told a different story: he had ties to the Jeons.

Jungkook stared at you a moment longer. “You have three days.”

“I only need two.”

You turned and walked out, his eyes on your back the entire way.

**

The next 48 hours were a blur of surveillance, digital digging, and sleepless hours. You didn’t eat. Didn’t rest. Not when you were this close to cracking open the empire that had haunted your dreams for years.

By the second night, you had everything.

Except answers.

Yes, there was a leak—someone feeding data to a rival gang. But that wasn’t what made your stomach twist. It was what you found in the encrypted archives: a file marked with your brother’s name.

Inside was a confession. A recording. Your brother had been working with the Jeon family. Willingly. Secretly. A part of their inner circle. And he hadn’t died in a random crossfire.

He had been executed.

By someone inside the police force.

Your world spun. For years, you blamed Jungkook. Hated him. Built your entire life around avenging your brother.

But the real traitor had worn a badge.

**

That night, Jungkook summoned you again. He sat alone in the same office, the city lights bleeding behind him like distant fire.

“Well?” he asked.

You slid a file across the table. “It was Han Min-woo. One of your own.”

He opened the file. Skimmed. Nodded once. No visible reaction.

“You’re good,” he said.

“I know.”

“You found more than that, though. I can see it in your eyes.”

You flinched.

He stood, walked around the desk, and stopped just a foot away from you. “You came here with a different purpose, didn’t you?”

His voice was low now. Dark velvet.

You stayed silent.

“Tell me,” he said. “Who are you really?”

You pulled out your badge and tossed it on the desk.

“I was YN Sharma. Undercover. Tasked to infiltrate your network. Take you down.”

Silence.

Then a soft, bitter laugh.

“Was?”

“I resigned. Tonight.”

“Why?”

You swallowed. “Because the real enemy wasn’t you.”

Something in his eyes shifted. A flicker of something raw. Real.

“Your brother…” he began.

“I know. He was working with you. I know he was killed by someone on our side.”

“I was there,” Jungkook said. “He saved my life.”

The room spun.

“What?”

“He took a bullet meant for me. That night. It was supposed to be me. But your department wanted to end a gang war, and they thought killing a Jeon would do it. They didn’t care who they hit.”

Tears welled up, uninvited. You turned away.

He stepped closer. Gently.

“I didn’t kill him,” he whispered. “I held him as he died.”

You crumbled.

And for the first time, Jeon Jungkook held you like a man, not a monster. Arms warm around your shaking body. You didn’t fight it.

You should have.

**

Days passed.

The mission was dead. Your career in law enforcement, over. You should’ve disappeared. But you didn’t. You stayed.

For him.

He didn’t trust easily. But with you, something thawed. He showed you the scars on his back—burn marks from when he was thirteen, tortured by a rival gang. He told you about his mother, who left when he was six. About the weight of the empire he never asked for.

And you told him everything. About your brother. Your pain. Your betrayal.

Each night, he’d sit next to you on the rooftop, offering silence and presence instead of apologies. It was enough.

One night, he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was everything you both had been running from—years of pain and guilt and rage poured into that single desperate moment.

You kissed him back.

And once the dam broke, you never stopped.

**

But love doesn't erase blood.

One morning, a package arrived. No return address. Just a USB stick. You plugged it into your laptop.

Surveillance footage.

Jungkook.

Executing a man.

Cold. Ruthless. No hesitation.

The date on the footage? Two weeks ago.

He’d promised he was done with killing. That things were changing.

You confronted him.

He didn’t lie.

“Yes,” he said. “I killed him.”

“Why?”

“He hurt a child. I don’t follow court systems. I deal in justice.”

“And what am I to you, Jungkook?” you asked, voice cracking. “A distraction? A weakness?”

He looked at you with those unreadable eyes.

“You’re the only thing in this world that makes me want to be better.”

It wasn’t enough.

You walked away that night.

And he let you.

**

Months passed.

You tried to rebuild. Got a job in a tech firm. Lived a normal life. Safe. Quiet. Hollow.

One night, you came home to find a letter slipped under your door.

No name. Just two words:

"Blood ties."

You knew it was from him.

So you went back.

To the rooftop where it all began.

He was there. Waiting.

You stood in silence before speaking. “I thought I was done.”

“So did I.”

He stepped forward.

“I’m not the man you want,” he said. “But I’m the man who would burn the world to protect you.”

“And I’m the woman who should hate you,” you replied, voice shaking. “But I don’t.”

He reached out, fingers brushing yours. “Stay.”

You looked at him, this man made of shadow and scar, sin and softness.

And you said the only truth left:

“I never left.”

His arms wrapped around you.

And this time, when he kissed you—it wasn’t desperation.

It was home.

---

THE END

Thank you reading And make sure to follow me on wattpad for daily updates @kookie__milk__

From —

Author MRINAL 🌸 🎀 ✨️