Jungkook was dragged roughly by two guards, his hands still cuffed, as they shoved him into a dimly lit room. The door clanged shut behind him with a finality that made his jaw clench in frustration. He was handcuffed to the bed—arms above his head, the cold metal biting into his wrists. He was furious. The humiliation of being captured by Isabella still stung, but now, he was helpless, chained like a prisoner awaiting his captor's next move.

He had no choice but to lay there, staring up at the ceiling, plotting his revenge. His body ached from the earlier struggle, his muscles tense, his mind racing. The thought of Isabella, with her sultry voice and her dangerous beauty, made his blood boil. She had reduced him—Jungkook, the most feared mafia man in the underworld—to this. She had played him perfectly, manipulating him at every turn.

The door creaked open, and his heart skipped a beat as Isabella sauntered in, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. She was as breathtaking as ever, her leather outfit clinging to her every curve, her presence filling the room with an aura of dominance that only heightened his frustration. Her dark, seductive eyes locked onto his, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she slowly approached the bed.

“Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, Jungkook. All tied up and at my mercy.” She tilted her head, her gaze trailing over his restrained form. “Not exactly the position you’re used to, is it?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. He hated how she made him feel—vulnerable, powerless. “This won’t last,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll get out of here. And when I do—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she interrupted, her finger pressing softly against his lips, silencing him. “You’re in no position to make threats, darling. Right now, you’re mine. And I think we both know that, don’t we?”

Jungkook glared at her, his chest heaving with the effort of restraining his rage. He wanted to fight back, to overpower her, but the cuffs kept him helpless. Isabella’s smirk deepened as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her body angled toward his. Her fingers trailed lazily across his chest, her touch both soft and infuriatingly teasing.

“You’re so predictable, Jungkook,” she murmured, her hand traveling lower, her fingertips brushing lightly over his abdomen. “Always thinking you can control everything, always believing you’re the one in charge. But not this time.”

Her touch sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine, and he cursed his body for reacting to her. “What do you want from me, Isabella?” he demanded, his voice tight with frustration. “You’ve got me here—now what?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering near his ear. “Oh, Jungkook,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. “It’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what I can do with you.” Her hand slid lower, dangerously close to his intimate area, her touch light and maddening.

He clenched his fists, his mind racing. He couldn’t let her get to him, couldn’t let her play these games. But Isabella knew exactly what she was doing. She knew he had fallen for her, knew that he was captivated by her in ways he couldn’t admit to himself. And she was using that knowledge to her advantage.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” he said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his composure. “You think this is a power move.”

Isabella’s laughter was soft and mocking as she shifted closer, her body pressing against his. “Of course it’s a power move,” she replied, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. “Everything in this world is about power. Control. And right now, I have both.”

Jungkook’s muscles tensed as her hand continued to roam across his body, her fingers exploring with an intimacy that made his blood boil. She was taunting him, pushing him to the edge, and she was enjoying every second of it.

“You want me, don’t you?” she whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe. “You’ve wanted me since the moment you laid eyes on me. I could see it in your eyes, Jungkook. That hunger, that desire.” Her hand moved lower, her touch eliciting an involuntary response from his body. “But here’s the thing—you’re not the one in control. You never were. And you never will be.”

His breath hitched, and he cursed himself for the way his body reacted to her touch. She was right, damn it. He had wanted her from the start. He had been drawn to her beauty, her power, her deadly allure. But he had never expected to be on the receiving end of her games, never expected to be this vulnerable, this exposed.

Isabella pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she took in the sight of him—Jungkook, the powerful mafia man, bound and helpless beneath her. “You see,” she continued, her voice soft and seductive, “this isn’t just about you and me. It’s about the bigger picture. You’re a piece in a much larger game, and right now, I’m holding all the cards.”

Jungkook’s chest heaved with frustration. He hated feeling this powerless, hated being at her mercy. But there was something about her—something that made it impossible for him to look away, impossible for him to fight back. He was trapped, both physically and emotionally, and he knew it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Isabella,” he said, his voice low and filled with warning. “You think you can keep me like this forever?”

She smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made his blood run cold. “I don’t need to keep you like this forever,” she replied, her voice silky smooth. “Just long enough to remind you who’s really in charge.”

Her hand trailed down his chest once more, lingering just above his waistband as she gazed down at him with a look that was both possessive and taunting. “You’re mine now, Jungkook,” she whispered, her fingers tracing circles on his skin. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but he couldn’t deny the truth in her words. She had him. For now. But he wouldn’t be hers forever.

Isabella stood up, her hand trailing along his body as she moved away from the bed. She paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. “Sleep well, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

With that, she disappeared, leaving Jungkook alone in the room, still bound to the bed, his body aching from her touch, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. He would get out of this. He had to. But for now, he was at her mercy, and he hated every second of it.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Jungkook closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He wouldn’t let her win. Not for long. Because one thing was certain: no one kept Jungkook tied down for long—not even Isabella, the mafia queen.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.