The night settled over the city, casting a silver glow through Isabella’s apartment windows. The air between them remained charged, thick with an unspoken tension that neither could escape.

Jungkook had made himself at home, sitting across from Isabella as she finished eating. His dark eyes never left her, tracing every flicker of emotion on her delicate face.

Isabella hated how her body reacted to his presence—the way her skin burned under his gaze, the way her heart betrayed her by beating just a little too fast.

She wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Not about him.

Not about the man who had taken over her life without permission.

She swallowed hard, trying to shake the feeling. “Are you going to leave now?”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back against his chair, looking completely at ease. “Do I look like I’m in a hurry, angel?”

She clenched her jaw. “I didn’t invite you here.”

“And yet, here I am.” His voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

She huffed in frustration. “You can’t just—”

He tilted his head, his expression darkening ever so slightly. “I can do whatever I want.”

The reminder sent a shiver down her spine.

She should be afraid. She should push back harder.

But the weight of exhaustion settled over her. She didn’t have the energy to fight him tonight Jungkook watched her closely, his smirk fading just a little.

“You’re tired,” he observed.

Isabella sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t have time for this, Jungkook.”

He stood abruptly, moving toward her. Before she could react, he reached out, brushing his fingers against her forehead.

She froze.

His touch was unexpected—not rough, not cruel. Just… warm.

“You’ve got a headache,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Isabella swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “So?”

His lips twitched. “You’re so stubborn.”

She glared at him. “And you are insufferable.”

Jungkook only chuckled, stepping back. “Go to bed.”

Her brows furrowed. “You’re not staying here.”

He gave her a look. “Sleep, Isabella.”

Her fingers curled into fists. “You can’t just—”

Jungkook leaned down, his breath ghosting against her cheek.

“Try and stop me.”

Her stomach flipped.

Damn him.

Isabella sat on the edge of her bed, her mind a tangled mess.

Jungkook had made himself comfortable in her living room, clearly refusing to leave.

Why?

What did he want from her?

With a deep breath, she got up and walked back toward the dimly lit room.

Jungkook was sitting on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his eyes closed as if he had all the time in the world.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then, before she could lose her nerve, she spoke.

“Why do you want me?”

His eyes snapped open.

Dark. Intense. Unreadable.

She swallowed but held his gaze. “You could have anyone. Why me?”

Jungkook studied her for a long moment before standing. He moved slowly, deliberately, until he was right in front of her.

She forced herself to stay still, even as her body screamed at her to step back.

Jungkook reached out, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of her cheek.

“You’re mine, Isabella.” His voice was low, dangerous. “From the moment I saw you, you belonged to me.”

Her breath hitched.

“That’s not an answer,” she whispered.

Jungkook’s thumb brushed against her lower lip, making her shudder.

“Because you’re the first thing in this world that I want—not because of power, or business, or control. Just because.”

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.

Jungkook’s voice dropped even lower, his eyes darkening with something dangerous.

“And when I want something, angel…” His grip on her chin tightened just a little. “I don’t stop until it’s mine.”

Her knees went weak.

Her mind screamed at her to fight. To run.

But a treacherous part of her—the part she didn’t want to acknowledge—was drawn to the danger in his eyes.

Jungkook smirked, sensing her hesitation.

“Now,” he murmured, stepping back. “Go to bed.”

She stood frozen, breathless, as he walked away.

She should be terrified.

She was terrified.

But not just because of him.

Because deep down, she knew—no matter how much she fought…

Jungkook would never let her go.

And worse?

A part of her wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
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.Isabella woke to the smell of coffee.

For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.

But when she stepped into the kitchen, she nearly tripped over her own feet.

Jungkook stood by the counter, his sleeves rolled up, a mug in his hand.

He turned when he heard her, his lips twitching. “Morning, angel.”

She gaped at him. “You’re still here?”

He smirked. “You talk in your sleep, you know.”

Her face went up in flames. “What?”

Jungkook took a slow sip of coffee. “Something about me being an arrogant bastard.”

She wanted to die.

He was enjoying this way too much.

She groaned, running a hand over her face.

Why are you really still here?”

Jungkook set his mug down, his expression turning serious.

“I have business in the city today. I figured I’d stay.”

Her stomach twisted at the reminder.

Jungkook wasn’t just a businessman. He was the mafia. A man with blood on his hands.

She didn’t know why it unsettled her more today than it did before.

Maybe because, for a moment last night, he had been human.

But that was an illusion, wasn’t it?

Jungkook wasn’t soft. He wasn’t kind.

He was dangerous.

And she needed to remember that.

She straightened, crossing her arms. “Well,your business isn’t here. So go.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened with something unreadable.

He stepped closer, crowding her space, until her back was pressed against the counter.

His fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her chin up.

“I’ll leave,” he murmured. “For now.”

Her pulse raced.

“But don’t forget, angel—” his thumb grazed her lower lip, making her breath hitch— “I always get what I want.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Jungkook smirked, stepping away.

“I’ll see you soon.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Isabella breathless.