"Where is it?" Mistress Lim asks, voice hardened as she looks at me.

My hands tremble, body curved as I dip my head.

"As the coach driver told you, a bandit ransacked the carriage. I don't have the money. I don't have the jewels I was wearing. I don't have anything left." I say, voice aching and pleading.

But there's hardness in her eyes when her hand yanks at my hair, forcing my head back, throat arching as she glares at me, red lips thinned as she looks at me.

"So you've lost me a night's worth of investment? A private booking for hours. With the pastor. Do you know how much he paid for discretion?" she hisses.

Her nails scratch against my scalp, a fierce sting where she drags my head back, head throbbing with the pain.

"It wasn't my fault. I tried to keep the money safe but he saw it. He was going to damage me." I say, throat bobbing as I force myself to meet her eyes.

Watching as her eyes flicker.

Rather dead than damaged.

No-one wanted damaged property. No-one wanted broken goods.

"I would be out of service if I had been damaged. He had a knife... what I was meant to do?" I plead.

Hating that I had to grovel for something beyond my control.

Hated that I had to pretend I meant every apology when really my very life depended on her verdict. On her being appeased by the thought and offer of making up the money I had no hand in losing.

"I'll earn it back. I'll work the floors from tonight. I'll do more work between appointments." I say, voice wavering, eyes stinging from the fierce hold she has on me.

Then it loosens, hand unfurling as she lets go, body staggering away from her, hands fisting into my skirts and flinching at the large tear I can feel, knuckles brushing across the side of my legs.

"You will. You'll earn me every lost coin. Clean yourself up. And be on the floor. You'll have a long night... some people happen to like broken goods." She sneers, eyes dropping to the darkening marks around my throat, voice still rough from the pressure, still feeling the weight of his heavy hand pinning me down.

I can't bite back the revulsion that gnaws at my stomach, making it churn uneasily.

And then she's pushing past me, stopping to give me a final glance.

Eyes glittering with disgust and revulsion.

As if she has the right to judge. As if she has the right when she orchestrates every mark on my body and every taint of every hand that grazes it.

"After all... there's no harm damaging what's already broken beyond repair."

And when the door slams shut, the tremor I'd been fighting in my legs win out, buckling as I crumble to the floor, hands winding tightly around me, hand clenched tightly to my mouth to stop the nausea and grief threatening to pour out, eyes stinging furiously, tears trickling down silently as my body shakes.

I feel worse than ever before.

Worse than sullied, tainted and defiled.

Feel dirtier than I ever have.

Because this time there's no sack of coins to validate that I hadn't given my body away for nothing. Because there was no amount lessened from the debt hovering over my head. Because I'd been used over and over today, countless times, and I'd lost the payment for it. Lost it to the cold press of the blade against my skin and a voice dripping with molten danger and promise.

And as my eyes clench shut, the sight of glittering eyes from behind the onyx mask doesn't fade, neither does the mocking croon of his words vanish from my ears.

It takes a long while to realise that another voice batters at the low drawl, softer and sweet, gently coaxing, hands brushing away my hair and drawing my face up. The cool, light touch of fingers brushing away my tears, brown eyes raw with tenderness and empathy as Jimin draws me against him, arm curled tightly against me to hold me to him. The smell of soap, clean and underlying the scent that's intrinsically him. Grounding and comforting.

"It's okay... (Y/N) it'll be okay... I'll work the floors with you, I'll give you my savings." He says, voice aching and desperate, hurting alongside me.

My breath stills, shaking my head frantically as I lean away from him.

"No. You're not doing that. I'm not letting you squander your savings on me. You're nearly out of debt. You were going to leave and start over remember?" I insist, eyes wide as I shake my head, lips pressed tightly. Every word sounds strangled and hoarse; forced out my throat. And I watch his eyes darken, glinting dangerously.

"But... you'll be out of commission if you work nights consecutively to earn that money. I know the pastor would've paid more for discretion and more for... just how much he's marked you up." Jiminie bites out, words laced with an angry growl; eyes simmering with rage.

"I'm not letting you sign away your freedom and the chance to have the brand gone. You're leaving and you're not giving me a penny." I say tightly.

"(Y/N)..." he begins.

I shake my head, drawing myself away, body still aching and protesting at every movement.

"I'm going to get cleaned up." slowly clambering up, hips twinging and flaring with pain and throat aching, feeling the weight of crushing fingertips and a palm pinning my throat down, remember the dizzying, sickening feeling of my vision turning dark at the corners.

"(Y/N) wait..." Minnie's voice pleads as I slowly limp to the doorway.

I shake my head.

"It's a price I have to pay for the bandit." I say bitterly.

And I move to get washed up, to peel the restrictive layers off my skin, breathing properly when I let the corset fall, stepping into the heated bath, groaning out in relief at the water lapping at my body, leeching the pain and easing the stiffness away.

But no matter how much I scrub, scented water trying to wipe the taint of the pastor away, I can still feel his touch linger, body sinking down in clouded water to try and hide from myself.

I relish in the privacy of the small bathing chambers that's on offer post-appointment, the small sobs ringing out and unheard, scrubbing at my hair, at my throat, at every place where his touch still lingers; hissing in sensitivity.

And yet the memory of piercing dark eyes, a voice dripping with taunt and lips curved in a mocking smirk remains; the touch of a cold blade pressed to my neck, curling around skin in the same way fingers did.

The water suddenly seems cold, body shivering and mind trying to blot out the image, the memory that was burning itself across my vision; fear and panic mounting once more. I stumble as I stand, water sloshing over the rim of the tub, suddenly frantic to get out, body wracked with tremors as I shiver, clutching the hem of the towel around me, hurriedly patting myself dry.

I don't expect Minnie to be waiting, clothes soft and loose and expression warm and inviting, arms held out as I clamber in beside him. I don't expect that after a short while for there to be a knock at the door, a figure slipping in silently; bearing a tray of oils and balms.

My lips part in silent question, a head shake silencing them as they slip forward, sinking down on the edge of the bed, setting the tray down carefully.

"I called hyung." Minnie says softly, sitting up straighter.

"Because you would've forgotten to get tonics otherwise. And without balms your body would've been protesting tomorrow." He chides, unscrewing a tin, sleeves pushed up as he gestures to me.

"Lie down." He urges and under his softly stern look and Minnie's shifting, coaxing me down and nudging my nightdress up, I lie face down on the pillows, groans unmuffled as he rubs and massages the salve in.

"What did the pastor look like?" he asks conversationally.

My body stiffens, head turning to look at him.

Watching anger flicker in brown eyes.

"Why does it matter Jinnie?" I mumble.

The fingers kneading at my back, knuckles easing away knots still.

And his words are steeped with a simmering anger.

"Indulge me. What sicko left so many marks? There's handprints on your hips. And scratches. Did he claw at you?" he hisses.

I shift slightly.

"Pastor Lee. Has a twisted notion of piety. He thinks he purged the filth out of me. Out of Satan's vessel. With his holy, better body." I groan, head dropping at the knuckles easing away stiffness, rubbing a line up and down my spine.

Beside me Minnie's hand comes to lace together with mine, a fierce relentless squeeze as he shifts, disgust pooling in his eyes.

"Pastor Lee. The one wanting to become a priest?" Jin asks, thumbs sweeping circles across skin as he pours massage oils onto me, rubbing and pressing firmly.

I nod.

"He's an animal." I admit.

An animal whose touch Jin tries to erase, carefully massaging my body, taking especially long in his thorough sweep of my body, fingers tightening involuntarily when he sees the marks littering my body; eyes dark and glittering when he spots my throat when I turn around, jaw clenched.

I sense the rage boiling inside as he closes the tins, wiping and cleaning his hands in a small basin, patting himself dry before he's drawing the sheets over me, perching on the side of the bed beside me.

"An animal who mauled you. He doesn't deserve the position. Lording over everyone when he's drowning in the filth of his own beastliness." Jiminie says, carefully lowering himself to lie down beside me, hand gentle as he brushes my hair back and body containing all the rage and agony he wants to let out but can't.

Both of us trapped to the same fate. The same pitiful destiny of being used over and over.

"But he still has it. The position, the power." I say quietly, picking at the sheets.

Knowing that he'd pay a higher cost for tonight. That I'd be working all week to make up for it. That the stiffness Jin had eased away tonight would return tenfold after the week, after I'd given Madame Lim the earnings she'd been hungry for; the same eyes that had gleamed with greed and hunger turning sharp and piercing.

"I'm sorry you had to service the sicko. And sorry that the money was stolen." Jin says.

I twist in the bed, turning to face him, hand reaching for his and squeezing lightly.

"Nothing any of us can do about it."

He shakes his head, gaze forlorn and hurting.

"I wish I could."

-------

"You'll be working nights every day. Don't get fussy with your clients, don't get picky. You need the money, don't be showing airs." Madame Lim instructs, eyes running scrutinisingly over my clothes, frowning slightly.

"Fix your neckline. The whole point of assets is to sell them." She says, walking over and spinning me around. Pushing me against a wall as she hisses.

"Sell your body as many times. I want that money earned. Every last penny and compensation." She bites, unlacing my corset to yank on it harder, pulling it taut against my body, the weight of the hard boning crushing my ribs, breasts spilling out, straining for breath as she relaces me in. Tight and trapped.

"Yes Madame." I answer, voice dull and submissive even as my heart burns, roars and screams at the injustice of it all. Wanting nothing more than to push back and hiss I didn't have a choice. That if I had died then she'd have lost the very asset she was so proud of flaunting. The very trophy she kept adorned prettily would've vanished, would've been gone and the money never recovered if the bandit had slit my throat and robbed me afterwards.

"Now go and earn for me little bird." She croons, nudging me towards the entryway, the hum of music seeping through the air; a heavy, low seductive base that pulsed like a livewire; a heartbeat that accelerated and hummed, filled every crevice of the large reception.

The eyes that trail over every worker are clouded with lust and carnal hunger, women and men alike letting unhurried gazes drifting over us.

A hand brushes against the low of my back, voice murmuring gently in my ear.

"That dress looks painful."

I don't let my lips twist, curved wide and appealing, even as my eyes flicker to Minnie.

"It is. You look..." I begin, eyes raking over the loose silks and glittering jewels, to the painted lips curved sensually.

"Ravishing. Although let's see how many get to touch this." He says, gesturing to the gaping neckline revealing pale smooth skin, brows raised.

And it's clear from how he seamlessly filters in and out the crowd, fingers curled around the stem of a crystal cut glass as he drinks that tonight he's playing hunter. Tonight he won't just let anyone touch him and use him.

He's here from his will. He's not obliged to spare anyone a glance.

He's here as moral support.

He's here to perhaps enjoy a night where it's by his rules they play and to his lure and beckoning fingers they dance and move. He's here to have a night where he can control how he uses his body.

It's a rare pleasure. A rare privilege to finally be in charge of his own body.

But above all... he's not here as a courtesan. He's here as Jimin.

"Unwind Minnie. Take it easy." I say, quietly stepping away, gratitude clear in my eyes, lips softening for him in a genuine smile, watching him step away; gaze far too alert and the languid poise of his posture beguiling.

It isn't the same for me.

I step out into the foray knowing very well I had to make money tonight, that I had to make money but at least I'd be able to gauge their personalities, their character before letting myself be with them.

My body flits in and out, the delicate crystal cut flute in my hand the perfect tool to avoid conversation, drawing small sips when I notice interested gazes linger. It's also a tool because I know eyes follow the bob of my throat, the way my tongue flicks against my lips to catch any droplets of wine, the way the satin pink leaves an imprint of my mouth behind on the glass.

There's plenty experience in eyes, seasoned lust; honed to its most basest form, carnal hunger flickering, pupils dilated and gazes unabashed in their trail, hands darting out for a touch, to graze fingers across what they wanted a taste of.

"Let me taste you beautiful?" a woman croons, hand curling around my wrist when I turn back with a refilled flute, eyes fixing on my lips, her face hovering close, slender figure tall and imposing.

I lean away, humming as I take her in, a slow trail; bored and disinterested but I make sure to keep my lips curved, eyes shining with flattery, eyes batting coyly.

"Pardon lady... I've already been booked for the night. The gentleman doesn't like sharing." I say apologetically, lying through my teeth.

Her eyes flash, hungry and wanton, gaze settling on the swells of my breasts; heaving as I draw in air, knowing under the dim glow of lanterns, my skin radiant and soft.

I twist my lips, eyes fluttering, hand curling around her wrist to draw hers off.

"Although with how breath-taking you are, I'm sure you'll have men and women falling over themselves to offer them themselves up on a pretty platter." I croon.

Her fingers fall away, lips stretched wide and the scent of alcohol clinging to her breath when she speaks.

"Shame it couldn't be you." but falls away easily, loose skirts swishing as she turns, moves to stalk down another morsel of flesh to consume, to sink her teeth into.

And once more, armed with the slight warmth that the wine brings, making my body feel relaxed and languid, I move back into the fray, spotting Minnie's figure stretched across a chaise; gaze blasé and bored at the cluster of men he had crowding him, drifting over them with plump lips that pouted in disappointment at what he found.

They fawned over him.

And he was despising it. As I drift close, I catch their words, their honeyed offers to look after a pretty slip of a thing, to ruin and wreck him.

It's almost pitying the glance I shoot them, taking in broad, tall frames, dark eyes and lazy confident grins.

Oh if only you knew.

And poor Minnie looked bored and suffocated, trapped behind a wall of bodies of which he wasn't even considering entertaining a single one.

I duck close, leaning forward and reaching for his hand.

"May I whisk you away gorgeous? There's no-one who quite makes me scream as you do." I flirt, eyes fluttering and leaning in closer, knowing full well the curve of my back is bowed, torso hovering close and eyes teasingly dropping to his lips.

There's a flicker of playfulness in his eyes, hand warm and curling around to rest on the low of my back, nose brushing my jaw as he leans in. Lips pressing to my throat.

"It'd be my pleasure to take you apart." Warm voice, dulcet tone and stepping up, body brushing against mine.

The way he doesn't turn to spare them a glance is dismissive.

Not worth dark outlined eyes to fall on; shimmering as he presses a kiss to my cheek.

"Thanks sweets. I was suffocating under big brawny men. Who when put to it won't know how to make someone unravel." He laments.

I laugh, nudging his side gently.

"Well~ I wasn't lying... you know how to make me scream alright." I croon.

And though it's been a while since we've fallen against each other, bodies pressed close and coaxing out endless pleasure from each other. Even though it's been some time since we've found comfort in each other's sheets and each other's touch... he's always been a pleasure that's comforting. A pleasure that was given and taken freely without debt or transaction.

He knew exactly how to play my body against me.

Just as I knew for his.

"I know how to play you to a beautiful melody dear~ but I'm afraid that can't be tonight. Because I'm not allowed to financially help. And that means I can't take you to bed and ruin you." He says pointedly. Final words dripping with honeyed seduction. Sparking a flare of want.

And so he couldn't whisk me away, couldn't entangle himself with me, bodies curled together on the sheets, unhurriedly exploring.

"But~ I do know how to find loopholes." He drawls with a grin, loose and bright, eyes warm.

And the body that curls around mine moments later is broad, firm and familiar.

So is the low murmur as lips graze the shell of my ear.

"I heard we have a damsel to free. Hope you don't mind a night with me darling~" the voice croons, dark eyes glittering and lips stretched wide, tall frame a protective cocoon.

My lips part, eyes drifting from him to Minnie.

"You didn't..." I begin.

"Oh but I did~ enjoy sweets." And with a peck to my cheek he slips away, eyes twinkling.

Deep brown eyes watch as my gaze drift over him, hands drifting across his chest to curl around his nape, head cocked. I find the tension curling around my body loosen slightly, that gnawing anxiousness abating slightly.

Beaming at the dimpled grin, charming and playful, that greets me.

"A night with you Namjoon? Sign me up."

TAE POV:

Eyes fix on me as I enter. Fix on the jewellery glittering and shining under the tavern's lights. Fix on the tailored fit of my breeches, trailing openly over the length of my legs and eyeing the wide gape of my shirt, jerkin open and hair tousled with the wind, cheeks ruddy from the night air nipping and biting at skin.

Eyes fix on me and I relish in them. Grinning at the greed and envy pooling in drunken, intoxicated eyes. Striding forward and navigating past crowded tables, dodging the wide slosh of a tankard, ears catching onto snippets of conversations and raucous laughter.

Moving towards the front, sliding into a chair and grinning when the owner moves towards me, face lighting up with a friendly smile, dark hair brushing against dewy skin, the bright silk of his shirt, loose and fluttering.

It's a pretty colour. And it sits well on his frame.

The figure beside me downs the small knuckle amount of amber liquid, hissing as he slams down the glass without any of his usual finesse, strands of hair falling forward, the flush spreading to the tips of his ears as he turns to face me. But there's no intoxication in his gaze and a new tightness to the broad set of shoulders.

"Rough week Jin?" I ask.

His full lips press tightly, nodding.

Face softening only a fraction as he gestures for another drink.

Two glasses are set down, albeit the one nudged forward towards Jin with a gentler touch and worry in dark eyes.

"What's wrong Jin?" body leaning forward over the bar.

He doesn't speak.

Downing the shot once more, grimacing at the bite of alcohol, burning as it goes down. A hiss escaping his lips.

"Just... work." He acquiesces.

I shake my head, loose curls falling forward, escaping the ribbon that ties them back.

"Shame... I've had quite a good week myself." I admit, taking a small sip of the fruity liquor, humming at the pleasant taste, at the slight warmth that creeps through my veins.

Two unimpressed faces stare at me.

"Don't kick someone who's already down Tae." the owner admonishes, his familiar heart-shaped smile replaced with a downwards twist.

I shrug, hand raised in surrender.

"Sorry Hobi. Sorry Jin... I'll try keep my tales to myself." I easily relent. Sighing as I hold my own glass, wanting to share, wanting to tell them of the loot I'd pillaged.

My eyes drift over the bowed shape of Jin's back, defeated and slumped. Body curved forward and hand tight around the glass. There's a stiffness in the way he holds himself, jaw tight with anger and eyes dark and gleaming, deep in thought.

"I need... Hobi I need your help in exposing someone." He begins.

The worried gleam recedes slightly, eyes flaring with a bright eagerness.

Whether that's for Jin or for the task, who knows. Maybe both. Because it's Jin asking him for the favour.

"Who? Who do I need to get filth dug up on?" he croons, lips curving up.

But the hard flintiness he's greeted with makes my own body jolt with surprise.

Jin's rarely ever like this.

Rarely ever simmering with anger and resentment, bubbling away.

He's always smiles, smooth talk and oozing charm, radiant and confident in himself.

He rarely ever looks like this... rarely ever looks down.

"I want utmost discretion. It can't... whatever it takes it cannot be traced back to me." he begins, voice tight.

Hobi nods.

A small furrow between his brows.

"Who? And what sort of dirt?" he prompts.

"A pastor. Paster Lee to be precise. The one at the church an hour's ride out." He says, a bite to his words.

My brows rise.

"What do you need or rather gain by exposing a pastor? What are you going to reveal... his long cotton white drawers? That stale scent of dusty halls? Don't tell me... he drinks other than wine." I gasp, leaning forward, hand propping my head up, peering curiously.

Taken aback by the sharp snap and the way Jin's eyes blaze, a tempest brewing in them. Dangerous waters.

Hobi's hand curls around his forearm, a small squeeze when Jin's voice growls out, unbridled rage in them.

"Funny you think that Taehyung. Because he's the devil parading in holy garments. And I want the world to know what filth lies underneath." Body straightening and spine locking.

"What exactly did he do?" I push.

The shuddery breath he draws in is rattled, the sound weak and pained. A sharp cry from the fierce anger that seeps off him.

"He hurt my own. Because he defiled and abused the body of a woman who matters to me. Because everyone deserves to see the truth behind such a mask. Because he's a man and yet he's dragged that title through utter filth. He's a beast." He hisses, voice low and thrumming with hatred.

And where I'd expect his words to make Hobi retreat, his fingers press tightly instead to his forearm, a bruising touch and I see embers begin to flare in his own eyes.

"Is it..." he hedges, voice imploringly tentative. Wishing and wanting for the question to be brushed aside.

But he gets a tight nod.

The curse that flutters past his lips is shaky. And his hand falls away to push at his hair, throat bobbing.

"Well then. Pastor Lee's not going to know what's hit him. Any riches he has, Tae you can pillage. He deserves to be on the streets scrabbling for pennies." Hobi says, voice viciously tight, hands curling around the edge of the counter, posture intimidating and tall.

"Can't say I know the entire picture. But amen to that." I nod, the sweet full-bodied taste of berry bursting across my tongue as I take another gulp, lips stretching wide at the prospect.

I didn't know who Jin was avenging. Didn't know what woman had been caught in it all.

But I was all in.

The thought of money spilling through my fingers in excess making my body thrum, alight with eagerness.

And I sink back into my chair, dismayed and put out when I try to recount my stories, to share them only to be shot down by a glower that simmers with fire and a curt warning.

And the low hum of chatter that flows between the two, heads bent close and Hobi's touch trying to ease away the anger in Jin's body is almost too intimate to let my eyes drift across. Too tender and full of shared meaning between them.

And when their bodies tilt closer, a touch that's both full of propriety and possessiveness as slender fingers curl around Jin's jaw, I groan.

Batting away the touch.

"Now why don't you take this to the back rooms the tavern so wonderfully provides?"

"Don't be so forward gentlemen... in a public place too." I tease.

Pushing myself away from the sigh with a grimace, setting down a handful of coins, far too much for the drinks, and relishing in the curiosity in Hobi's eyes as he counts them and slides them off the varnished wood.

"New loot?" he asks, brows raised, gaze impressed.

I shrug, letting the pillaged red earrings dangle as I lean forward. Droplets of blood was how they looked.

Suspended in air and glowing dark red.

"Why not take pretty things for myself? I think I suit them better than a woman no?" I say, fingers grazing my jaw as I tilt my throat.

There's a scoff and then a nudge.

"I've seen better people wear them... in fact I—" before the words trail off and Jin's hand darts to wrap around my wrist.

A fierce tug as he yanks me forward, eyes narrowed at the earrings, taking them in carefully, voice low and shaking slightly. But there's no mistaking the anger in each syllable.

"Taehyung who exactly did you take them from?" he demands.

I lean back, frowning but his grip tightens, eyes glinting.

"Taehyung... where did you get those earrings?" he demands again.

"Just some rich lady on the way back from a daytime tryst! Jin let go... since when have you cared who I loot?" I grunt, trying to tug myself free, surprised by the way he stands, chair scraping and looming close. Lips thinned and gaze turning into molten fire; heavy and burning.

"Since your stunt cost someone, I love and care for, their body. Over and over."

------

"For the last time Jin, I didn't know! When do I ever do background checks on who I decide to loot? Since when have you ever cared?" I hiss, eyes fixed on his stony expression.

His eyes flash warningly.

"It's never bothered me. Your life lived your way. It bothers me because I've just come from someone who can't even move without crying out in pain." He growls, the same simmering anger from nights ago returning with a vengeance.

Crackling searing fire in his words and venom in his eyes.

I flinch away from it, from the way he glares at me. None of his warmth remaining.

"And that's my fault? That the woman you're protective of whored herself out to a pastor?"

His face turns to stone, the pure vitriol in it sharp and consuming. And it's a look that burns itself across my mind and memory when his fist slams against my jaw, hand curling into my shirt to fist me close when I stagger back, face looming near mine.

"I don't care if you're my friend Taehyung. Talk filth about her as if she had any choice, as if she's ever had any say in this... I will forget every bond. She spent her tryst with the pastor as you said but because you looted her, she'd had to work night after night, forcefully whoring herself out because you made it that way." He grits out, the word spat out like a curse, distasteful and cheap, jaw clenched tightly and eyes blazing. Knuckles pressing tightly to skin, fingers looping into the chains brushing against my skin.

There's a tug, the metal biting at my nape as he looks at them, eyes glinting with hardness, with not a shadow of the man I know and a frown twisting his lips.

"For once Taehyung... for once the sight of these disgust me." and then he's shoving me away, body stepping away from mine, slamming down a coin to the counter towards the other owner and stalking away, ignoring the harried yelp as Hobi calls after him from the tavern floor, tray of empty glasses.

There's a sigh as the man opposite me takes the coin, dark brown eyes filled with sympathy. It always usually surprises me to see those doe eyes beguilingly innocent working behind counter, propositioned by countless drunks. But as he straightens I'm reminded that with the innocent, boyish face comes a tall, broad strong frame, sweat glistening across skin as he moves to take my empty glass.

"It takes a lot to make Jin explode. So... congrats." But it's hollow.

And the pain blooming across skin is so very, very real. Sharp and fierce, throbbing mouth and the metallic taste of blood where my tongue flicks against my split lip.

And the feeling, left alone at the tavern's front, his words echoing in my head leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

An emptiness.

And the weight of the very jewels I wear and love to adorn myself with feel heavy, the chains feel like shackles, curling around my throat in a vice grip.

And the glittering pools of red sitting inside my pocket, delicate and exquisite, spread their taint across fabric.

The feeling only intensifies when Hobi returns, face tight with disappointment, setting the trays down beside Jungkook.

"You should know better Tae. Than to sully someone's character without knowledge." He says, voice soft, the clinking of glasses as he gathers them up and drops them into the sink, the sharp splash of water spraying across his shirt before he lowers it, begins scrubbing them clean.

I sigh.

"I don't get it. What's so special about her?" I ask, slumping forward, the prickling feeling of guilt and trying to push it away.

Trying to focus on the pain and heat that seems to be spreading across my jaw, teeth gritting.

"What's special about any of us? We care for people even if they're not special." Jungkook murmurs, voice looming close and a cold compress is held against my jaw; his eyes brimming empathetically, shrugging when I stare at him.

I take the small bundle of ice wrapped in cloth, smiling gratefully at him even though I know I deserve the ache and the pain flaring across my jaw, wincing when I press it tighter.

What makes any of us special?

"That being said... it means you had no right to comment Tae. She might not be the cream of the crop or high class, she might not be a lady by title but you had no right disrespecting a woman." Jungkook says, voice firm.

And despite being younger, there's maturity in his words and a strength, a respect gleaming in his eyes for the nameless woman.

Who knew one loot would've left me so messily entangled?

Would've made Jin furious and Hobi silently worried. An anger and need to expose the pastor, spilling his dark secrets with a grimace and letting the tavern do the work.

Operating by letting comments drop.

And if that hadn't been enough, he'd landed his hands on transaction papers.

The amount of money I'd so easily torn her dress' skirt for, remembering the satisfaction at the heavy weight of the sack clinking in my hand, at the weight of it pressing against my side, buried deep into my pocket... the same money I had no guilt or shame in taking for my own had my stomach twisting slightly to see written out in ink.

A transaction for her body.

A transaction for her silence and discretion.

A payment Jin had bitten out venomously to be a monster and his eyes were full of unspoken words and knowledge, knuckles whitened from how he gripped the glass and tried to bury his pain away.

A payment that I'd inadvertently cost her. Twice.

And a payment she'd had to pay off with selling herself over and over.

The nausea that swirls alongside the guilt is suffocating. Sickening.

I remember wide eyes, silently pleading, remember a collar of fingertips bruising her neck and stays that hadn't been laced up properly. Remember the sight of bruising on her leg when I'd cut the small sack free. I remember how she'd pleaded.

Anything.

"Please... don't take the sack. I'll give anything." Her tone so filled with desperation. Swollen lips parted and her trembling figure going still when the blade had pressed to her throat; emotions shuttering away as she stiffened.

I'd mocked her.

Thrown the proof of desire back at her... and it wasn't that. It was the price of his lust, the gift and shackle left behind; proof of his greed and want for more.

"Greed after all isn't attractive. It's a sin."

And those words, my own, curl tauntingly around me.

Greed had landed me in this after all.

And I hated the feeling of a debt hovering over me. A debt that all the riches and jewels couldn't dismiss. It made me feel angry and sick. It made me want to get rid of it.

I remember painful eyes begging silently, a frown tugging at my lips.

Hating the image of weakness lingering.

I let the cold compress fall, clunking against the wood, a numb chill dampening my skin, one I know will fade and leave a glorious purple regardless.

Jin had struck me hard.

He wanted me to feel the pain of his words in the action.

He wanted it to leave a mark.

"Lee. How do we bring the bastard down?"

And how do we end this once and for all.

(SECOND CHAPTER! I THOUGHT I'D GET A BIT STUCK WRITING TAE BUT HE WAS JUST SO... SEAMLESSLY COMING OUT, SO EASILY WRITTEN AND EXPRESSED AND IT WOULD'VE GONE ON LONGER HAD I LET MYSELF! BUT!! TRYING NOT TO GET CARRIED AWAY! AND THIS SHALL BE FAST PACED AND MOVING! ACTION AND STUFF HAPPENING EACH CHAPTER!! GAHHH! CAN'T WAIT TO BRING BOTH OF THEM TOGETHER! AND TAE!! STOP DIGGING YOURSELF A HOLE! AND HEAR HEAR TO JK! RESPECT WOMEN TAE! HE'S GOT A LOT OF STUFF TO MAKE UP ON! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS~ Midiiplier  ENJOY BABIE! MWAH!)

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3