The day had started like any other, with a routine that Hana had come to find comforting in its normalcy. She had spent the morning at the hospital, enjoying the bustling environment and the satisfaction of helping others. As she stepped out into the cool evening air, she didn’t notice the shadowy figures lurking nearby. She was focused on the plans she and the boys had made for dinner that night—a home-cooked meal together, something simple but warm.

She was only a few blocks from the hospital when it happened. A van screeched to a halt beside her, and before she could react, rough hands grabbed her, pulling her into the vehicle. Her phone clattered to the ground, the last connection to her safety severed as the doors slammed shut. Panic surged through her, but she bit down on it, refusing to let fear take over. Hana knew her boys would come for her; she just needed to stay calm and survive until then.

The ride felt endless, her heart pounding with each turn, every bump in the road sending fresh waves of terror through her. The men who had taken her didn’t speak, their faces hidden by masks, their intentions clear in the way they handled her with brutal efficiency. Hana tried to focus on her breathing, tried to hold on to the belief that Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, and the others would find her. But doubt crept in, whispering insidious fears into the corners of her mind.

When the van finally stopped, Hana was dragged out and shoved into a dark, cold basement. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and mold, the only light coming from a small window near the ceiling. She stumbled as she was pushed forward, falling to her knees on the hard concrete floor. The door slammed shut behind her with a heavy, echoing finality.

Hana sat there for a moment, shivering not just from the cold, but from the fear that had settled deep in her bones. She wrapped her arms around herself, drawing her knees to her chest as she tried to think of what to do. The basement was silent, save for the distant sound of water dripping somewhere nearby. It was a place meant to break people, to make them feel utterly alone.

But she wasn’t alone. She had to believe that. Her boys would come for her—they had to.

Back at the penthouse, the atmosphere was anything but normal. Namjoon was pacing the living room, his usually calm demeanor shattered by the anxiety clawing at him. Jin was on the phone, barking orders to their network of contacts, his voice strained with barely concealed panic. Yoongi sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clenched into fists, the anger radiating off him in waves.

Jungkook was the first to notice Hana hadn’t returned home on time. He had tried calling her, but when the line went straight to voicemail, dread had settled in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t like her to be late without sending a message. His worry had quickly spread to the others, and when they found her phone abandoned on the sidewalk, their worst fears were confirmed.

“She wouldn’t just leave it,” Jungkook had muttered, his voice thick with fear as he picked up the cracked phone. The sight of it had sent a shockwave through the group, the reality of the situation crashing down on them.

“They’ve taken her,” Namjoon had said, his voice cold and steady, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “And we’re going to get her back.”

The room had erupted into a flurry of activity. Jin had immediately started coordinating with their network, pulling in every resource they had to track down Hana. Taehyung and Jimin had left to scout the streets, hoping to pick up any clues that might lead them to her. Hobi stayed behind, working with Yoongi to trace any possible leads on who could be behind the kidnapping.

The boys were terrified, but their fear was masked by the fury that burned within them. The idea of someone taking Hana, hurting her, was enough to push them to the edge. They had vowed to protect her, to keep her safe, and they had failed. That failure gnawed at them, fueling their determination to make it right, no matter the cost.

But beneath the rage and the action was a deep-seated fear, one that they rarely allowed themselves to acknowledge. What if they didn’t find her in time? What if the worst had already happened? These thoughts were pushed aside, buried under the overwhelming need to find her, to bring her home where she belonged.

Hours passed in the basement, though it was impossible to tell how many. Hana’s body ached from the cold, and her mind was a whirlpool of fear and hope, each battling for dominance. She had no idea where she was or why she had been taken, but she clung to the belief that the boys were looking for her, that they would find her.

She had been sitting in the darkness, trying to stay awake, when the door creaked open. The sudden light blinded her for a moment, and she squinted as a figure stepped inside. It was one of the men who had taken her, his face still hidden behind a mask. He said nothing as he approached, his silence more terrifying than any threats he could have uttered.

Hana’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as he came closer. But instead of touching her, he simply dropped a bottle of water and a piece of bread at her feet before turning and leaving as silently as he had come. The door slammed shut, and Hana was plunged back into darkness.

She stared at the food, her stomach growling with hunger, but fear kept her from reaching for it. Was it drugged? Was this some kind of sick game? She didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at her. She was scared—terrified, even—but she forced herself to think of the boys, to imagine their faces, their voices telling her it would be okay. They were her strength now, and she couldn’t afford to give up.

The search for Hana had become a frantic, all-consuming effort. Namjoon had mobilized every asset they had, turning the city upside down in their quest to find her. Yoongi had dug deep into their network, trying to identify who could be behind the kidnapping, while Jin had worked tirelessly, coordinating the search with military precision.

Taehyung and Jimin had returned with nothing but frustration and fear in their eyes. Every minute that passed without a lead felt like a lifetime. The normally vibrant and lively atmosphere of their home had been replaced with a tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Hobi, usually the one to bring light and energy into any room, was quiet, his face a mask of worry as he tried to piece together Hana’s possible location from the scant clues they had. The boys were a formidable force, but right now, they were just a group of desperate men trying to save the woman they loved.

“She’s strong,” Jungkook said, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. His voice was thick with emotion, his hands shaking slightly as he clutched Hana’s abandoned phone. “She’s strong, and she knows we’ll come for her.”

Namjoon nodded, though his eyes were shadowed with doubt. “We will find her,” he said, his voice laced with determination. “No matter what it takes.”

In the darkness of the basement, Hana tried to hold on to that thought. She was strong, and the boys would find her. She had to believe that. The hours dragged on, the cold seeping into her bones, but she refused to let herself break. She had survived this long—she could survive a little longer.

And when they came for her, she would be ready.