...Five years ago...

“The cooperation between the Jeon and Kim family is over.”

Jungkook, standing in front of Woosung in his office, frowned at the bewildering statement. “What? Why? And why are you saying this to me? Did you talk to my father?”

“Your father is dead, Jungkook.”

“What the hell are you saying?” Jungkook roared. “He’s not dead. I saw him this morning.”

“He is. And I don’t have time for you to process this. He’s dead. And I want you to disappear from Taehyung’s life.”

Shock gripped Jungkook like icy claws, rendering him a confounded mess. “Are you crazy?” he whispered, his owlish eyes sparkling with tears, as he couldn’t process anything Woosung spewed at him. “What... How do you know he’s dead? And what does this have to do with Taehyung?”

“I know because I killed him.”

Something feral blazed within Jungkook’s gut, a wild fury that rushed through him like a storm unleashed. With a primal instinct, he pounced on him, fingers clawing into the fabric of his collar, wrenching him to his feet. “You fucking trash,” he screamed, his voice cracking with a tangle of disbelief and wrath. “Why? Why did you do it?”

Rough hands seized Jungkook from behind, pulling him away with an abrupt strength that caused him to stumble backwards. He steadied himself, his gaze searing with rowdyism as he locked eyes with Woosung’s bodyguard.

Woosung straightened his disheveled clothes with a flick of his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles and dusting off imaginary specks of dirt. He settled back into his chair with an air of composed authority, his posture haughty and unruffled despite Jungkook’s violent manner. “I always kill filthy traitors.”

“My father would never—”

“Your father wanted to make a deal with our enemy and push me away from the company!” Woosung’s features contorted with a sudden blast of fury, his normally structured demeanor fracturing under the fierceness of pent-up emotions. “You think I would let him to that? Of course not. I built this company. I devoted my whole life to this company. And he wanted to take everything. His greed is what killed him.”

Tears flooded Jungkook’s eyes, a cocktail of grief and disbelief knocking over him in waves. He sank into the nearest chair, clutching the edge of the desk as if to anchor himself. His gaze remained fixed on a distant point beyond him, lost in a labyrinth of emotions too convoluted to unravel in that moment. He wanted to scream, lash out at the unfairness of it all, but words failed him, trapped beneath a mass of disastrous shock.

Jungkook wiped away the wetness from his face with hands that felt rough and unfamiliar, the touch of tears lingering on his skin. “Still... He was my father. He was your friend since you were young. How could you just kill him? Why couldn’t you just talk him out of it?”

“He didn’t want to listen,” Woosung said simply, his voice steady and composed once more, though the tension in the room hovered like a stifling fog. “He had made his choice. And I made mine.”

Jungkook’s hopelessness, once a heavy cloak weighing upon his shoulders, now morphed into a seething brew of raw disgust and unrestrained wrath. His entire being juddered with the intensity of these emotions, each breath a struggle against the overwhelming tide threatening to engulf him. “You’re sick.”

“Maybe.” Woosung shrugged an idle shoulder. “But he was worse. Now, disappear from Taehyung’s life. And from mine.”

A frenzied laugh, edged with derision and disbelief, burst from Jungkook’s lips as he surged up from his seat. “I’ll tell Taehyung everything right now.” He stormed towards the exit, but before he could reach it, Woosung’s voice sliced through the air like a razor-sharp blade, freezing him in his tracks.

“If you tell Taehyung, your mother will follow your father. And then your little sister. So do as I say. And leave.”

“You fucker,” Jungkook muttered through clenched teeth. “I can’t leave Taehyung. I won’t.”

“If you want to appear in front of Taehyung again, you have to kill me first. And you don’t have the guts to do it. So if you want to keep your family safe, leave the country. Take on a long mission and leave.”

Each word from Woosung fell upon Jungkook’s ears with a crushing force, like heavy stones dropping into his soul. They shattered the fragile remnants of his sanity and pierced his heart. More tears flowed down his savagely screwed face as he stared at his apathetic persona. “How did you kill him? Where’s his body?”

“I shot him and cremated him. Don’t worry. I sent his ashes to your house with my men.”

Jungkook’s vision blurred, his mind consumed by a fiery haze of betrayal. In that moment, he saw red — a boiling rage driving him to attack, erase the mask of calm indifference that cloaked Woosung’s face. He lunged forward, fists clenched with the intent to deliver a ferocious punch that would destroy his facade, but his bodyguard grasped him at light speed.

Jungkook fought against the constraining hold, screaming to be released so he could beat Woosung to a pulp. The bodyguard, unmoved by his outburst, maintained a steely grip, his expression impassive as he hauled Jungkook towards the exit.

Jungkook stood in front of the closed door, buzzing with rage, every muscle in his body twitching. The revelations and orders had left him a complete wreck. They coursed through his veins like a wildfire seeking to consume everything in its path. Through his labored breaths, Woosung’s voice rang from inside the room like a distant mumble. 

“Did you find anything?” A brief pause followed. “Find it as soon as possible! Search his house again, his office—” Another pause, longer this time. “Where the hell is it, then? If you get the job done, I’ll pay you double. Just find it.”

With a heart ruptured into a thousand pieces and a soul blackened by despondency, Jungkook went home.

The sight he faced as he opened the door to his house was gut-wrenching. The usually tidy living room lay in disarray, furniture overturned and belongings strewn across the floor as if a storm had torn through the once serene space. Smashed glass glittered on the floor, photographs cracked down the middle, abandoned on the coffee table.

His haggard eyes took in the image of his mother sitting on the couch, her usually vibrant demeanor now overshadowed by the unbearable ruination of grief and despair etched upon her features. In her limp hand, she held a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid untouched as tears streamed down her pale, strained face. Her eyes were filled with a hollow emptiness as she stared, unseeing, at the small jar resting on the coffee table before her.

Jungkook’s heart convulsed at the sight of the jar — a simple vessel containing his father’s ashes, a solemn reminder of the man who had been the base of their strength. He wasn’t the warmest person, nor that outwardly caring, but his presence had always been a steadfast anchor in their lives.

Sung Ryung swigged her drink, preparing herself to explain the situation. As she leveled out her head, she detected tears sliding down her son’s cheeks too as he sank down next to her. “You know,” she croaked out.

“Kim just told me.”

Sung Ryung refilled her glass, her hand shaking under the weight of the bottle. “That filthy asshole. I knew something was wrong. But your father wouldn’t tell me.”

“Mom. Kim is looking for something. Do you know anything about this?”

“No. But I figured. His men made our house like this.” Sung Ryung drained her drink and placed the glass on the table with a soft clink.

“Why didn’t you put our men to stop them?”

“There was no point. They would have just killed each other for nothing.”

“You don’t want to take revenge?”

“Revenge?” Sung Ryung scoffed weakly, her voice tinged with a mixture of agony and exhaustion. Her hand reached for the bottle of whiskey again, seeking solace in its numbing effect, but Jungkook intercepted her, gently cupping her trembling hand in his own.

“He threatened you, didn’t he?”

Sung Ryung twisted to look at her son, her eyes brimming with tears that spilled freely down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails on her cheeks. “I can’t lose you too. Or your sister. You two are all I have now.”

Jungkook lowered his head. “He told me to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“He doesn’t want me near Taehyung anymore.”

“That’s a given, son. Woosung killed your father.”

“Exactly. Taehyung’s father did it. Not Taehyung. He’s not at fault in any way.”

“Still. That family destroyed us. I love Taehyung too. I know him since birth. He’s an angel. But how can you be with him after this?”

“I don’t know, mom,” Jungkook said, his voice barely audible as it squeezed out through the suffocating grasp of despair that girdled his form. “Taehyung is my life. How can I just leave him?”

“Jungkookie. You have to find what Kim is looking for. Your father had been going to Japan and England more often the past few years.”

A single crease formed between Jungkook’s brows, a subtle but revealing sign of the mystification churning within him. “England? I didn’t know about England.”

“No one did. I had found a plane ticket in his pants’ pocket one time. He must have forgotten to throw it away.”

“Why would he go there?” A haziness pinwheeled in Jungkook’s eyes as he strove to find an answer, and it soon struck him like a slap. “Gu Minseok.”

“What about our enemy?”

“Kim said my father wanted to make a deal with him. What if he was cooperating with Minseok without anyone knowing?”

“That’s the betrayal Kim’s men talked about, huh?”

“Yes. Dad loved us. But he was no angel, mom. You know it too. He was greedy. He put money and work above everything.”

“Still,” Sung Ryung uttered, heartbreak shimmering in her sunken characteristics. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

“I know,” Jungkook sighed. “Look. It has to be him. Minseok is the only one from Korea who has connections in England.”

“And a business there.”

“Exactly. If they were cooperating, maybe dad told him something.”

“He’s our enemy, Jungkook.”

“Is he, though? Because his problem always seemed to be with Kim. Minseok did nothing to us and we did nothing to him. He’s our competitor. But he’s not an actual enemy.”

“What if all this was his plan? To break our cooperation with Kim and make them fight each other?”

“There’s one way to find out.”

Sung Ryung’s brows flung upwards in shock as she interpreted the meaning of her son’s words. “Jungkook, no. You can’t work for him.”

“Well, I have to work, anyway. And I can’t work at the company anymore.”

“Jaesuk had a side business, and you know it. I’ll run it now. You can work there.”

“I get hired to protect the most important people in the world, mom. I’m not a mere bodyguard anymore.”

“You know I hate that you endanger your life for others. Maybe you should go back to being a mere bodyguard. You even handle guns now. You shoot at people. And Taehyung has no idea.”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Jungkook said with distinct bitterness. “I didn’t have enough time to tell him. I have to leave him now. I have to leave my life.”

“What will you tell him?”

“That I have to leave for a bit. I can’t break up with him. I won’t be able to keep myself together if I do that. And he can’t suspect that something is wrong. He can’t know about any of this.”

“The poor boy... It’ll break him. He loves you so much.”

“It’ll break me just as much. Because I love him too.”

As tears traced silent paths down Jungkook’s cheeks, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again after this day.

. . .

A heavy sigh leaked out of Jungkook’s mouth at the harrowing memory that was so vivid, as if it had happened yesterday. He stared vacantly at the couch he was sitting — the couch he had held his mother’s hand for the last time before meeting Taehyung, lying to him so ruthlessly, and leaving for England.

His attention snapped to the door the moment he heard it open. The heaviness of the gruesome memory lifted off his shoulders, and a smile burst onto his face, lighting up his previously somber expression, upon seeing his little sister walk in with Sung Ryung by her side.

Jungkook hopped off the couch and drew closer. “Hey, baby girl.” He bent down to her level to cradle her cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss on the top of her head.

“I’ll go see if the lunch is ready,” Sung Ryung said and shuffled off towards the kitchen.

“Let me help you with your bag.” Jungkook reached out to slip the straps off her shoulders, but his face crinkled with a pattern of mystified lines when Jiyu recoiled slightly.

“I’m a big girl now, oppa. I don’t need help.”

Jungkook scrutinized the forced smile on her lips, his gaze lingering on the subtle stiffness that distorted her usually bright expression. The sense of awkwardness flitting in her chocolate-brown eyes didn’t escape his notice; it was as if a shadow had momentarily passed over her innocent face, dimming the light that radiated from her. He could see the unease in the way her eyes darted away from his, the way her smile didn’t quite reach them. It was an immense difference to her usual exuberance, and it set off alarm bells in his mind.

“Come here,” Jungkook uttered, taking her small hand in his and guiding her to the couch. As he settled down, he pulled her into his lap, cradling her sideways against his chest. He could feel the tension in her body as Jiyu let her bag slide off her shoulders, the weight of whatever troubled her pressing against him.

“Baby,” Jungkook said, voice as gentle as a falling snowflake. “You saw me two days ago for the first time after five years. And I could tell you were a bit awkward and distant with me, but I thought it was just by your surprise. Tell me what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.”

A little pout bloomed on Jiyu’s lips, a small crease forming between her brows as she lowered her eyes. “It’s... It’s nothing.”

Jungkook set his knuckles under her chin and lifted her head, encouraging her to meet his gaze. He cupped her cheek, his thumb smoothing across her silky skin in a calming gesture. As he looked into her eyes, his own softened, glimmering with an infusion of sadness, bitterness, and remorse. “Do you hate Jungkookie for leaving without saying goodbye? Hmm? Are you mad at me for disappearing for five years?”

A blanket of gloom carpeted Jiyu’s face, deepening the pout that clung to her lips. “I don’t hate you, but... I’m a little mad.”

“You can be mad at me a lot, baby girl, not just a little. Oppa deserves it. But he’s also so, so sorry for hurting you,” Jungkook said, voice thick with the intensity of his remorse. “I had to protect a very important person. That’s why I left. I had to be with that person all day, every day until I safely led him back to his house.”

Jiyu’s doe eyes cast him a series of glances, each one filled with a sparkle of curiosity and hesitation. “Who was that important person?”

“He was a prince.”

A high-pitched gasp flew out of her mouth, any hint of sadness dissolving into amazement. “A prince? Like in fairytales?” she breathed, her voice flavored with a blend of wonder and disbelief.

Jungkook nodded as he hummed an affirmative, sugary sound, his heart swelling with relief at the sight of her vibrant smile. Seeing the light return to her eyes cocooned a part of his guilt, brimming him with a renewed sense of hope that they could one day put everything behind them. “The prince had to travel to different countries, and I had to accompany him to keep him safe. I couldn’t let a prince get hurt, right? Didn’t oppa do the right thing?”

“Hmm, yes, you did the right thing, oppa.” Jiyu draped her arms around his nape, her small hands gripping onto him as if he were her anchor in a stormy sea. She nestled into his embrace, finding comfort in the familiar warmth of his presence. “But... can you protect me now? Forever? I don’t want you to leave again. I was so sad without you.”

Jungkook felt a tingling sensation around his nose, a clear sign of emotions rising within him. His vision blurred with a thin layer of tears, the quietness in Jiyu’s desperate voice hitting him like a tsunami. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure as he held Jiyu close. “I promise I won’t go anywhere from now on, okay? Oppa will protect you forever.”

A grin swept across Jiyu’s face, stretching from ear to ear as she squeezed him repeatedly in a fit of joy. “Really? You promise?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle softly, overwhelmed by the sheer excitement emanating from his little sister. “Yes, love. I promise. You and mom are all I have. I’ll protect you forever.”

Fragments of the brightness in Jiyu’s face drained away with the faintest of twists that crazed her forehead. She pulled back enough to look at him, her lips shrinking until they drooped at the sides. “What about Taehyungie oppa? You should protect him too.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew rounder with a semblance of fondness at her adorable pout. “You want me to protect him?”

“Yes. He was really sad these five years you were gone too.”

“How do you know?” Jungkook asked softly, his touch tender as he tucked a strand of her long, dark brown hair behind her ear. “Did you keep contact?”

“No. He only came to see me once. It was two years after you disappeared. After that, I heard our mom talk to him on the phone from time to time, and I said hello to him too. He told me he was so busy with work that he couldn’t come see me.”

“Hmm, and you’re not mad at him at all for not coming to see you even if he was busy?”

“At first I was mad because he forgot about me completely. He didn’t call mom and didn’t drop by the first two years after you left. But from the moment he visited us, at least I could say hello to him. But I couldn’t talk to you at all. Not even mom could talk to you.”

Pangs of guilt slashed across Jungkook’s chest anew, each stab a sharp evidence of all his lies. He had asked Sung Ryung not to let Jiyu know about their weekly phone calls over the past five years, fearing it would reopen old wounds for her. He couldn’t bear the thought of causing his sister more pain. And Jungkook wouldn’t be able to stay away if he talked to her.

Jungkook released a muted, long sigh that seemed to embody the load of all the years he had been away from Jiyu and all his lies. “You’re right. I’m sorry, baby girl. Can you forgive me?”

Jiyu’s face cut wide open with a beam, like the sun breaking through clouds after a storm. “Yes. I can’t stay mad at you. And you also promised to protect me forever.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook smiled and placed a feathery kiss on her cheek, a smooching sound undulating across the room.

Jiyu giggled at his tender gesture. “Since you’re back, does that mean Taehyungie will start coming to our house again too if he’s not that busy now?”

“Why? Do you miss Taehyungie?”

She nodded cutely, stretched lips pressed together with a smidgen of playful innocence. “I miss him so much, oppa.”

The smile on Jungkook’s face saddened with concealed despair. It was a fleeting expression, a moment of vulnerability that hinted at the inner wretchedness he wrestled with every day for the past five years. He took a deep breath, trying to push aside the crippling sorrow for the sake of his sister. “I don’t think he’ll be coming here anytime soon.”

“Why?”

“Oppa hurt him. That’s why. I left without saying goodbye to him as well. And he’s still mad at me.”

“Taehyungie never stays mad at someone for long. He’s the kindest.”

Her cute words nudged a chuckle out of Jungkook, a gentle sound that seemed to ease the shreds of dismay eddying within. The warmth in her voice and the innocence in her expression melted away some of the heaviness he carried, even if it was only for a moment. “More than me?”

“Yes,” she chirped, her grin widening into a lively expression that could illuminate even the darkest corners.

Jungkook pinched her side, making her laughter bubble up, a melody of happiness that bounced around the walls, filling the air with warmth. “Do you want to go see him?”

Jiyu clasped his nape, inhaling sharply, as her doe eyes popped open with elation, reflecting the gleam of eagerness that danced within her. “Really?”

“Yes, baby girl. I’m sure I know where to find him.”

“How?”

“Remember the park in the neighborhood where we used to go with Taehyungie?”

“Hmm.”

“It’s his favorite place. He always said that watching kids play brings him such happiness. There’s nothing he loves more than the laughter of kids.”

The light in Jiyu’s eyes dimmed as she lowered them, a glimpse of sadness briefly clouding her expression. “If he loves kids so much, why did he forget about me for two years when you left? Is it because I got older?”

“You were still six then, my big girl,” Jungkook said, his tone a cross between teasing and softness. “And I’m sure he didn’t forget you. He just... It would hurt him to see you often because of what I did to him.”

“Did he lie about being busy, then?”

“You should ask him, love.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook smashed a long kiss on her cheek, stealing another giggle from her before he rose from his seat and helped her to her feet. “Mom, we’ll go to the playground for a bit,” he spoke with a sonorous voice, ensuring he could be heard clearly.

Sung Ryung emerged from the kitchen a few seconds later. “The food will be ready in about an hour. Don’t be late, loves.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, mom!” Jiyu said, her voice filled with excitement as she held onto Jungkook’s hand, her heart eagerly anticipating seeing her Taehyungie again.

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This chapter has a second part, so it's a good time to give you a double update as a thank you as well!! Don't go far☺️