You are my anchor when the waves come crashing down...

⚡Double update!! Make sure you read the previous chapter.⚡

"Don't tell me you're going to—"

"Yes." Jungkook's gaze was fierce, desperation flickering in his eyes like a candle in the wind. "I have to get stronger."

Jimin slumped his shoulders, feeling the weight of his friend's resolve. "I'll miss you."

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook shot back, "Don't act like I'm the only friend you have. Now you seem to like Taehyung more."

"Well... I..." Jimin fumbled over his words, a shy grin creeping onto his face as he rubbed the nape of his neck. "He's just a good hangout! But I swear you're my best friend forever. Besides, he's only here for a limited time."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the tension in his chest easing momentarily. "You've got that right. No one can replace me," he teased, a hint of warmth in his tone.

As he stood up, the bandage underneath his T-shirt tugged slightly at his skin, a reminder of the pain he'd endured. The moonlight bathed his red hair in a soft glow, making him look almost ethereal as he turned toward the house. The uncertainty of his journey weighed heavily on him, but he pushed those thoughts aside.

"You know, Kook," Jimin called after him, his voice laced with sincerity, "if you need anything while you're training, don't hesitate to reach out. You won't be alone in this."

Jungkook paused, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks, Jimin. I'll keep that in mind." He smiled back at his friend, feeling the warmth of their bond anchoring him in the storm of his emotions. As he stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him, he took one last look at the stars, silently vowing to return stronger—not just for himself, but for his sister, for his friends, and for the life he wanted to protect.

............

Taehyung tossed and turned in his bed, a restless captive of his own mind. Sleep eluded him, each attempt to drift away only drawing him deeper into the chasms of his fears. Whenever he closed his eyes, vivid memories of gunshots echoed relentlessly, a haunting soundtrack to his chaotic thoughts. Bryon's horrified face played on a loop in his mind, a reminder of the violence surrounding him. "I hate her. I hate her very much," he kept chanting to himself, as if repetition could purge the feelings clawing at his insides.

Desperate for escape, he approached the window, the cool night air beckoning him like a long-lost friend. He gazed down at the dark green meadow sprawling two floors below, its silence contrasting sharply with the turmoil within him. The thought of jumping out, running away from this nightmare, flitted across his mind. He yearned for the simplicity of his old life: performing surgeries, treating patients, sharing drinks with Yoongi, and dozing off in his cramped cabin after endless nights of work. A family of his own—two children laughing and playing—was a dream he held dear. For Taehyung, happiness and peace were worth more than anything else in the world.

Yet, here he was, trapped. Captivity was a punishment he hadn't earned, a fate thrust upon him without reason. He lived, ate, and spoke, but all of it felt like a performance dictated by the whims of gangsters, a puppet dance where he had lost control of his strings.

Without realizing it, one foot had already found its place on the window sill, the world outside enticing him with promises of freedom. The night sky seemed to open its arms, welcoming him into its vastness. A gust of cold wind brushed against his face, drying the tears that had slipped from his eyes. For a fleeting moment, an undefinable ecstasy enveloped him, pulling his lips into a blissful smile—a sense of release he thought was long gone.

But then, a chilling thought pierced through his momentary peace. "I'll track you down no matter where you go. Probably your hyung..." The words echoed in his mind, dragging him back into the abyss of despair. With frustration boiling within him, he stepped back and slammed the window shut, as if blocking out the world could silence his thoughts.

If he was never going to be free, he told himself, then he should not even dare to dream of it. His throat felt parched, a dry reminder of his overthinking spirals. He needed to distract himself, to find solace in something tangible. With a heavy heart, he walked downstairs to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, hoping that the simple act of hydration would ground him, if only for a moment.

As he moved through the mansion, he felt a flicker of gratitude that he could at least roam its halls. After spending over a month with the Titans, he had earned some semblance of trust, a fragile connection that kept the darkness at bay—if only temporarily.

............

Sri saw her younger self standing in the dark alley, enveloped in an eerie silence that pressed down on her like a heavy shroud. The twelve-year-old girl was a ghost of innocence lost, her clothes torn and her eyes bloodshot, reflecting the horrors she had endured. She looked like a zombie amidst the encroaching darkness, a tragic figure forgotten by the world.

As she raised her hands to eye level, she gasped at the sight before her—her fingers coated in crimson. The girl trembled, fear coursing through her veins like ice. No one was there to comfort her; no one would answer her desperate cries. She cried and cried until her lacrimal glands refused to produce any more liquid. But then something shifted within her. Her mind began to twist the narrative, accepting the grim reality. Her lips curved upwards, and she smiled, a transformation that morphed into sinister laughter echoing through the desolate alley.

She was no longer afraid of the blood staining her hands, nor the lifeless body sprawled at her feet. A sense of pride surged through her—she had punished the miscreant for his wicked deeds. She had protected herself.

Yet, something unforeseen struck her like a bolt of lightning. A sharp ache blossomed in her chest, quickly escalating into an excruciating pain that robbed her of breath. Blurry images flickered before her eyes, her lungs burning and her head spinning. She thrashed her limbs in a futile attempt to escape the agony, but the more she fought, the more she became ensnared in a web of despair.

Sri fluttered her eyes open, the domain of her nightmare dissolving into the dark corners of her mind. But the pain lingered, and in fact, it had intensified. Her windpipe constricted, cutting off her oxygen supply, and the anguish in her chest escalated until it felt as though her very soul would tear free from her body. "H-help—" she croaked, the sound barely escaping her lips. Who would hear her at this hour?

Just then, she heard the door bang open, followed by rapid footsteps approaching her room. "Sri??? What happened?? Are you hurting??" A familiar husky voice called out, slicing through the fog of her pain. She clutched the nearest object—Taehyung's shirt—seeking an anchor in the chaos of her emotions.

The doctor had been passing by her room after quenching his thirst when her cries pierced through the night. Initially, he had wanted to ignore her, but something deep within urged him to check on her. As he entered the room, the sight that met him was alarming.

Without wasting a moment, Taehyung assessed her symptoms. His mind raced, quickly diagnosing the issue: an artery blockage. She had pushed herself too hard, neglecting her body when it needed time to heal. "Hold on! I'm bringing an injection from my room!" he commanded, turning to leave, but Sri's grip on his shirt tightened. She was in a half-seated position, desperately trying to keep him close. Taehyung was her anchor, the one she needed most at this moment.

His heart softened at the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks. Gently, he pried her fingers from his shirt and raced to fetch the necessary medication. Within moments, he returned, injecting the sedative into her system.

As the drug coursed through her veins, her body gradually relaxed. Taehyung cradled her upper body in his arms, watching as her breathing steadied and she drifted back into slumber. Relief washed over him, though it was tinged with concern. She always managed to make things difficult for him, yet here he was, playing the role of her guardian.

He tucked her under the blankets, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead with a damp towel. His gaze fell upon the pack of tablets sitting neglected on the nightstand. Sri hadn't taken her medication for three days, too consumed with the mission involving Bryon. Taehyung felt a surge of frustration; he had never anticipated she would be so reckless with her health. "Looks like I have to take better care of her," he mumbled softly, brushing her hair back from her face.

In that moment, a voice in his mind whispered, "You hate her, Kim Taehyung." His hands froze, caught between duty and disdain. The memories of their tumultuous past clung to him like shadows. He wanted to forget this day, to shake off the burden of her presence as if it were a nightmare, yet her imperturbable face lingered in his thoughts, a haunting reminder of the duality of their relationship.

..................

Sri opened her eyes, the weight of last night's pain lingering in her chest. The first thing she did was check for signs of life, pinching her arm to confirm she was still here, still breathing. The throbbing in her chest was a reminder of how close she had come to losing it all. She sat up slowly, her gaze falling on Taehyung, who was sleeping on the couch, his face relaxed in slumber.

A flicker of familiarity washed over her as she recalled a voice—a soothing presence that had pulled her from the brink of despair. It felt like déjà vu, the warmth emanating from him wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, her eyes glued to the doctor's sleeping figure. Taehyung was the last person she should have allowed herself to rely on. Their lives were worlds apart, yet somehow, he felt so close, like a distant star she could reach out and touch.

As if sensing her gaze, the brunette shifted in his sleep, his instincts attuned to the presence watching him. When his eyes finally opened, he found himself locked in an intense stare with Sri. Her usual void-like gaze was filled with a whirlwind of emotions—sadness, relief, regret—but she was an enigma he couldn't decipher.

After an awkward silence hung between them, Taehyung was the first to break it. "How do you feel?" he asked, concern lacing his tone.

Ignoring his question, Sri's voice was steady but demanding. "Don't tell anyone downstairs about this." She gestured toward her health, her face hardening. She didn't want the Titans to see her as weak; she was determined to maintain her position of strength. The Dark Squads loomed over her like a storm cloud, and she couldn't afford any cracks in Titan unity.

Taehyung rolled his eyes in annoyance, crossing his arms. "Why would I? You're the one who didn't take your medicine."

Sri didn't respond. Instead, she swung her legs over the bed and stood up, walking toward the door. As her hand gripped the doorknob, she paused, giving him a deadpan glare. "I'm sorry for yesterday." With that, she left the room, not bothering to look back at the stunned gangster behind her.

[A/n: imagine Taehyung's expression after BTS got nominated for the Grammys.]

"Wait—did she just apologize? Did the world's most feared woman just apologize???" His eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh no! Did I give her the wrong medicine last night?" 

"Aish! I should have recorded this," he muttered, slumping back onto the sofa in defeat, his mind racing with thoughts of how to make sense of what just happened.

.....................

Jungkook's eyes flickered to his sister as she entered the meeting room. She looked pale, a sight that tugged at his protective instincts, but he refrained from commenting in front of the other Titans. The atmosphere was tense yet charged with energy as S took her place at the head of the table, leaning back and crossing her right leg over her left. Power radiated from her presence, a magnetic force that drew the eyes of every Titan in the room.

"I hope you remember last night," she began, her voice steady and commanding. The silence that followed was palpable, each member of the team nodding in acknowledgment. "I want the Dark Squads at my feet at any cost! I'm going to see this through to the end. They are up against fire, and we will burn them to ashes."

Her words ignited a fierce determination in the room. Everyone's expressions transformed into wicked grins, fueled by an insatiable hunger for victory. Jungkook felt a surge of adrenaline, excitement coursing through his veins.

"Namjoon?" She turned her head toward the dark-haired man seated nearby. "I want all the information on the Dark Squads. I'm curious why Kim Goojung did this." She traced her thumb across her lower lip, deep in thought.

"I have the same confusion, but don't worry. I'll gather all the information within a week," Namjoon assured her.

"Very well. Jimin, you can start your job. Make sure you know every detail about the gang." Her gaze shifted to the blonde, who nodded eagerly.

"Yes, boss!" Jimin replied, excitement evident in his tone.

"Viper, I need you to hack into all their illegal business sites. We need to crash the dark webs of their operations and dismantle their financing." The blue-haired male nodded, determination lighting his eyes.

Name: Chen Heekyung (Viper)

Age: 32 years

Profession: The hacker of the Titans. God-gifted brain. Most wicked member of the Gang.

Likes: Dark Webs. Power and money.

Dislikes: Everything/everyone that is no good to him.

He was like a packet boomer, a rare find among the Titans. Viper's computer skills were nothing short of legendary. With an extraordinary brain that could outsmart most, he was undoubtedly the most wicked member of the gang. While his talents made him a valuable asset, S recognized the potential threat he posed. In the world they inhabited, individuals like Viper were not easy to come by, and they often wielded power that could tip the balance. S knew how to manipulate his intellect for the Titans' benefit, employing a mix of diplomacy and intimidation. After all, she always had the option to eliminate him if he became a liability.

"Arin," S said, her voice cold and authoritative, cutting through the tension in the room. "I have no job for you right now. You will continue overseeing our drug deals, but I expect you to focus on honing your skills until further notice. I want to see 100 rounds of rabbit hopping around the lawn every day."

The drug leader's face went pale at her words, a look of disbelief washing over him. He felt like a high schooler being punished by a relentless PE teacher. "Why, boss? What did I do?" he protested, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Lying is bad, Mr. Kang," she replied, her gaze unyielding. The other gangsters in the room struggled to suppress their smiles, amusement dancing in their eyes at Arin's predicament.

Arin hung his head low in embarrassment, the weight of his mistake pressing down on him. He was grateful that S hadn't challenged him to a fight in the ring; she was a monster when it came to combat, and he had no desire to end up on the receiving end of her skills. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling a mixture of shame and relief.

S then shifted her attention to the underboss seated nearby. "Jungkook?"

The red-haired male turned his head towards his leader, hesitating for a moment before speaking up. "Boss, I want to exclude myself from this mission." 

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