26

A/n : 150+ comments for next part.

Y/N's POV:

I can still feel the heat from Jungkook’s body as I slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake him. My legs are weak, and my lips still tingle from our fierce kiss.

My mind, however, is far from satisfied. Tomorrow, everything will change. Westminster, Phoenix, Namjoon—it all feels too much. I need air, clarity, something to steady the storm raging inside me.

I pull on my robe, feeling the cool fabric against my skin, and glance back at Jungkook. He looks peaceful, innocent even, the complete opposite of what tomorrow holds.

I grab the research paper—*Destroying Thermonuclear Weapons: A Controlled Approach*—from the table, the one I foolishly thought would solve everything. It feels heavier now, like it holds more of my failure than hope.

The hotel is quiet, eerily so. I wander down the hallways, each step echoing louder in my mind, every thought blending with another until they’re a chaotic mess. Phoenix. Namjoon. The safe.

I make my way to the pool area, the smell of chlorine biting into my nose. The water is still, unlike the storm in my chest. I walk closer, peering into the pool, my reflection staring back at me.

Childhood memories flood my mind—fear of drowning. I hated water then, and even now, the idea of being submerged terrifies me.

I take a step back, suddenly anxious, and that’s when I hear it.

“Internship gone wrong, Miss Kim?”

I freeze. The voice is low, familiar, dripping with mockery. I spin around, my heart hammering in my chest.

Kim Namjoon.

He’s sitting there, casually leaning against a poolside chair, a whiskey glass in his hand. He looks unarmed, relaxed. But that smirk on his face—it’s dangerous.

My heart races as I shove the door open, the cool night air hitting my face, but it does nothing to calm the panic rising inside me. I can still hear Namjoon’s voice behind me, mocking, dripping with arrogance.

Run, Y/n. Just get the hell out of here.

I push through the poolside gate, scanning the area for an exit. My fingers tighten around the knife I grabbed earlier, but it feels useless now. I need to get out of here, find Jungkook, tell him what Namjoon just said.

But as I move further, I realize something’s wrong.

The fence surrounding the pool is high—much higher than I remember. I glance around, searching for a way out, but everything’s sealed. The doors back into the hotel are locked, the gates shut tight.

Shit.

My pulse quickens. It’s like a cage—one I didn’t even realize I had walked into. I turn back toward the pool, my eyes scanning desperately for another exit, but it’s hopeless. The only way back is toward Namjoon, who’s still lounging by the pool, calmly sipping his whiskey like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Trying to run, Miss Kim?” His voice is smooth, amused. He doesn’t even bother standing. “You should’ve known better.”

I take a step back, my eyes darting around for any possible escape. My chest tightens as I realize that I’m trapped, that there’s no way out. I want to scream, to fight, but it feels pointless. He’s planned this. He knew what he was doing all along.

Goddamn it, how did I fall for this?

“Why don’t you stop trying to be a hero and come sit?” Namjoon’s voice carries over the empty poolside, cutting through my panic. “We both know you’re not getting out of here. Might as well hear what I have to say.”

I spin around to face him, my blood boiling. “You think I’ll just sit and listen to you? After everything you’ve done?”

He shrugs, unbothered, raising his glass. “Suit yourself. But you’re not leaving until I’m finished, so you might as well make yourself comfortable.”

I grit my teeth, my fingers itching to throw the knife, to do anything to wipe that smug look off his face. But I know he’s right. I’m trapped. Running now is pointless. Maybe, just maybe, if I sit down, I can figure out what he’s planning—find a way to stop him.

I back away, my hand frantically searching for something, anything. I spot a fruit bowl on the nearby table, grab a knife from it, and point it at him.

“Talk,” I say, my voice hard, cold. “But don’t think for a second that I’m falling for any of your bullshit.”

Namjoon smirks, clearly enjoying this far more than he should be. “You’re smarter than that. Good. That’ll make this conversation more interesting.”

I glare at him, my heart still pounding, my mind racing with a hundred different ways this could go wrong. “Get to the point. Where’s the Phoenix safe?”

Namjoon doesn’t flinch. In fact, he laughs, taking a slow sip from his glass. “That’s cute,” he says, eyeing the knife in my hand. “But you’re not going to get very far with that. Why don’t you sit down, have a drink with me first?”

I don’t lower the knife. Every fiber of my being is screaming not to trust him, but I can’t deny the curiosity creeping in. There’s something about his calm, his arrogance, that makes me want to know what game he’s playing.

I sit down across from him, knife still in hand, but my grip loosens. “What’s your game, Namjoon?” I ask sharply, my voice laced with accusation. “Why remove the Phoenix safe? Why send me to Russia?”

Namjoon grins, raising an eyebrow as if amused by my questions. “I’m helping you build your CV, sweetheart. What’s got you so worked up?”

His sarcasm ignites something inside me, and I lean forward, eyes narrowing. “Don’t play dumb with me. You sent me to Russia knowing I wouldn’t find the safe there. You’re trying to get rid of us—Jungkook, Jimin... What’s your endgame?”

Namjoon’s smirk widens, and he pours himself another drink. “You really want to know?” he says, the mockery still heavy in his voice. “Alright. I’ll bite.”

He leans back, swirling the whiskey in his glass, and then looks at me with that same, infuriating calm. “Jungkook’s a liability. Always has been. I needed to get rid of him, and what better way than to send him on a mission he won’t come back from? A suicidal one, no less. Then, once he’s out of the picture, I pin it on Jimin. One arrow, two shots. Jenesis Brothers? Gone.”

I feel my heart drop at his words, my stomach twisting in disgust. “You want to blame Jimin for Jungkook’s death? That’s insane,” I hiss, gripping the knife tighter.

Namjoon chuckles darkly. “Insane? Maybe. Effective? Definitely.” He takes another sip, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. “And once they’re gone, I’ll have what I’ve wanted all along.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What? Jenesis Corp? That’s what this is all about?”

Namjoon’s laughter fills the space between us. “There it is. The sharp brain I knew you had. Yes, Jenesis Corp. That’s always been the prize. And if it weren’t for your meddling, I’d have gotten rid of them both by now.”

My blood runs cold as I piece it together. This was never about Phoenix, or the research, or even the weapons. It was about control.

Power.

I narrow my eyes, my heart pounding louder in my chest. “You think you’re entitled to Jenesis Corp? Jungkook and Jimin built that from the ground up.”

Namjoon’s smirk deepens, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Jungkook and Jimin stole that from me. I’m the rightful heir, Y/n. They took everything from me, and now, I’m taking it back.”

I stare at him, disbelief mixing with anger. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he admits, shrugging. “But I’m also the one with the plan. And trust me, tomorrow, when everything falls into place, it won’t matter what you or Jungkook think. Jenesis will be mine.”

“You recommended me for the internship,” I say slowly, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. “You knew I was pregnant.”

Namjoon raises his glass, mockingly toasting to me. “Bingo. Can’t have little infant babies running around after me and coming for my throat in future, now, can I? Thought I’d kill four birds with one stone.”

I feel the bile rise in my throat, my fingers trembling around the knife. “You planned to kill us all.”

He shrugs, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “It’s cleaner that way. No loose ends.”

“Oh, and Y/n?” His tone is softer now, almost mocking. “If I were you, I’d start thinking about what comes after Jungkook. Because once he’s gone, you’re next on my list.”

I freeze, every muscle in my body tensing. Slowly, I turn to face him again, my mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Namjoon’s smirk widens as he sees the fear in my eyes.

“And don’t worry,” he adds, his voice a low murmur. “I’ll make sure you don’t suffer. Much.”

“You think you’re so clever,” I spit, my voice shaking but firm. “But Jungkook is going to stop you. We both will.”

Namjoon laughs—a low, mocking sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Oh, Y/n, you really don’t understand, do you?”

He steps closer, and I instinctively take a step back, my eyes darting to the gate again. Still locked. Still no way out.

“You’ve already ruined a lot of things for me,” Namjoon continues, his voice calm, far too calm for what he’s saying. “Because of you, Jungkook didn’t complete the suicide mission in Russia. He didn’t die like he was supposed to.”

My heart clenches. This bastard. He wanted Jungkook dead all along.

“But now,” Namjoon goes on, taking another step closer, his eyes gleaming with malice, “I’ve got something even better. You see, I don’t need to trick him into sacrificing himself anymore. He’ll do it voluntarily... for you.”

My blood runs cold as his words sink in. I tighten my grip on the knife, trying to stop the tremor running through my hand. “You’re sick.”

Namjoon’s grin grows wider, more sinister. “Am I? Or am I just practical?”

I step back again, keeping my distance, but he’s moving closer, like a predator stalking its prey. “You won’t get away with this,” I hiss. “I’ll fight you. I’ll make sure Jungkook knows.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He stops a few feet away from me, his eyes dark with cruel amusement. “You see, Y/n, the moment Jungkook finds out that you—and his precious little unborn baby—are in my hands, dangling at the end of my knife, he’ll give up everything. He’ll walk right into my trap and hand over his life, his company and the Pheonix to save you.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. My voice comes out more frantic than I want it to. “He won’t. He won’t fall for that.”

Namjoon chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “He will. Because that’s what love does, doesn’t it? Makes you weak. Makes you foolish.”

I lunge at him, knife raised, but he’s faster. He dodges me with ease, grabbing my wrist and twisting it painfully until I drop the blade with a clatter. My heart pounds in my chest as I struggle, thrashing against his hold, trying to pull free.

But he’s too strong.

“You little fool,” he murmurs, tightening his grip. “You should’ve just stayed out of it.”

I kick out, aiming for his shin, but he sidesteps me again, pulling me closer, his breath hot against my ear. “I’ve had enough of your interference.”

I open my mouth to scream, but before I can make a sound, I hear the gate creak open behind me. My heart leaps in my chest—someone’s here, maybe help—but then I see them.

Two large men, dressed in black, stepping into the pool area with calm, practiced ease. One of them pulls out a small cloth from his pocket, and my stomach drops.

Chloroform.

“No—no!” I thrash harder, panic flooding every nerve in my body as I try to break free from Namjoon’s grip. My legs kick out wildly, my arms flail, but it’s no use. His hold is ironclad.

One of the men steps forward, holding the cloth outstretched, and I scream, kicking at him, trying to knock it out of his hands. But they’re faster. So much faster.

Before I know it, the cloth is pressed against my face, covering my nose and mouth. I hold my breath, struggling against the sickening chemical smell, but I can’t hold out for long. The world around me begins to blur, my limbs growing weaker by the second.

“No... please... Jungkook...” The words barely escape my lips before my vision tunnels, black spots dancing at the edges of my sight.

I try to fight it—try to stay awake—but it’s no use. My muscles go limp, my body sagging into Namjoon’s arms as darkness overtakes me.

The last thing I hear before everything goes black is Namjoon’s cold, triumphant whisper in my ear.

“You’ll be the perfect bait.”

Then nothing.

---

[Author's POV]

Namjoon sat comfortably in the backseat of the sleek black SUV, a glass of champagne in hand. The convoy of cars surrounding him sped down the dark roads on the outskirts of London, the headlights cutting through the night.

Y/n lay unconscious behind him, her head resting against the window, oblivious to everything happening around her.

He couldn’t help but grin to himself, swirling the champagne in his glass. Everything was going according to plan. He’d left a little note for Jungkook outside his hotel room, baiting him to come and fetch his beloved Y/n tomorrow. The thought of Jungkook walking right into his trap made Namjoon laugh out loud.

“Too easy,” he muttered to himself, taking a long sip of the champagne. “Jungkook’s so predictable. Always has been.”

It was almost poetic—the final act of this messy drama was about to unfold, and he would be the one holding all the cards. He took a sip from the champagne glass, eyes still glinting with satisfaction.

He was already planning his next move, how he’d finally rid himself of both Jungkook and Jimin, how he’d claim the Jenesis Corp for himself. Everything was falling into place.

But suddenly, the sound of screeching tires behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.

“What the hell?” Namjoon muttered, leaning forward slightly to look out of the back window. In the distance, he saw it—a Porsche.

And not just any Porsche.

The very same Porsche that Jungkook loves to rave on the streets of Seoul.

The same Porsche that gives him the control of roads like a madman.

Like he owns them all.

His grip tightened around the champagne glass. "Shit," he cursed under his breath.

The car wasn’t alone. Two other cars flanked it, one slightly ahead, the other trailing behind.

“Sir, we’re being followed,” the gunman next to Namjoon said, his voice tight with tension.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Namjoon spat, his calm demeanor evaporating. “Step on it! Lose them!”

The SUV lurched forward as the driver slammed his foot down on the gas, the engine roaring as it picked up speed.

The convoy of cars around them adjusted immediately, speeding up to form a tighter protective circle around Namjoon’s vehicle. But the three cars behind them weren’t backing down.

“Who the hell is driving those other cars?” Namjoon muttered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to make out the shapes of the other vehicles.

The Porsche was unmistakably Jungkook. No one else drove like that, like a bat out of hell, weaving in and out of traffic with reckless abandon.

But the second car, slightly behind the Porsche—that had to be Jimin. Namjoon cursed again under his breath.

But the third car? The sleek black Mercedes, keeping a steady pace just behind the other two—that was a surprise.

"Who the fuck..." Namjoon squinted, trying to get a clearer look. His eyes widened as the car came closer. The driver—Kim Seri—his wife.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he snarled, slamming his fist down on the seat beside him. "Even she’s getting involved in this shit now?”

The car swerved around a slower car, the tires squealing as they barely avoided a collision. Namjoon’s convoy did the same, but Jungkook’s Porsche was right on their tail, getting closer with each second.

Inside the Porsche, Jungkook’s face was a mask of fury. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, weaving through traffic like it was a game to him.

He barely registered Jimin shouting something over the radio from his own car.

“You’re not getting away this time, Namjoon,” Jungkook growled under his breath, slamming his foot down harder on the gas. The Porsche roared, shooting forward like a bullet.

In the car behind him, Jimin cursed loudly, trying to keep up. “Slow the fuck down, Jungkook! We need to corner him, not fucking race him!”

Jungkook ignored him, his eyes laser-focused on Namjoon’s SUV ahead. “I’m not slowing down for shit, Jimin! He’s got Y/n, and I’m not letting him get away.”

Jimin cursed again, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Fine, fine, but don’t get reckless! We need to think this through!”

Meanwhile, in the third car, Seri—Namjoon’s wife—was driving with a calm intensity. She wasn’t about to let her husband slip through her fingers again.

“You always were an asshole, Namjoon,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowed as she closed the distance between her car and his. “But you’re not getting away from me this time.”

Back in Namjoon’s SUV, the tension was rising. The car swerved again, narrowly avoiding a car coming in the opposite direction. The convoy was doing its best to shake off the pursuers, but it wasn’t working. Jungkook’s Porsche was gaining on them, and Jimin’s car wasn’t far behind.

In the Porsche, Jungkook’s heart pounded in his chest. He could see the back of Namjoon’s SUV now, could practically feel the heat of the exhaust. “Come on,” he muttered, his foot pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor. “Come on, you bastard."

Jimin’s voice crackled over the radio again. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jungkook! We need to box him in, not ram him off the road!”

“Shut up, Jimin!” Jungkook snapped. “I know what I’m doing!”

“He’s going to get himself killed for his lover if he’s not careful,” Seri muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Damn it, Namjoon... what have you gotten us all into?”

Jungkook’s eyes blazed with fury as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. “I’ve got you now, you son of a bitch.”

Suddenly, the SUV swerved again, trying to throw him off, but Jungkook was ready. He swerved with it, staying right on its tail, not giving Namjoon a single inch of breathing room.

Behind him, Jimin cursed loudly over the radio. “Jungkook, you’re going to get us all killed!”

“Shut the fuck up, Jimin!” Jungkook shouted back, his eyes never leaving Namjoon’s SUV.

Seri and Jimin, positioned in their respective vehicles, orchestrated a calculated assault on the cars carrying Namjoon’s men.

The two cars trailing ahead Jimin and Seri erupted in flames, their contents turning into twisted metal.

Namjoon’s men, trapped in their vehicles, struggled to respond. Their ammunition was nearly depleted, and their position made it impossible to fire effectively.

As Jimin and Seri continued their assault, vehicles were sent tumbling end over end, crashing in fiery explosions.

From his vantage point in the lead car, Jungkook watched the mayhem unfold. His heart raced, not just from the adrenaline of the chase but from the fear for Y/n's safety.

He reached for the radio, his voice cutting through the static with a raw, fierce urgency.

“Jimin, Seri, blow them all to hell, but don’t touch Namjoon's car! Don’t you dare touch that car, it’s got Y/n in it. I swear, if something happens to her because of your damn recklessness, I'll tear the whole city apart and I’ll make sure you never see another sunrise.”

Jimin’s reply crackled over the radio, laced with his own brand of harshness. “I’m on it, Jungkook. We’re keeping our fire clean. But don’t think for a second that we’re taking it easy.”

Explosions lit up the night sky, sending flaming debris and sparks flying. The tires of Namjoon’s escort vehicles were shredded, sending them tumbling end over end until they finally crashed to a halt.

Inside Namjoon’s car, the situation was far from calm. Y/n was beginning to stir, her head pounding as consciousness returned. She slowly rose to her feet, her heart pounding with fear and determination.

As she glanced around, she noticed the gun hidden in the boxer shorts—Jungkook’s boxer shorts. She chuckled darkly, remembering how she used to tease him about his “spicy buttocks” due to the holes he’d left in them.

“Thank the heavens,” she muttered to herself. “Who knew these damn boxers would come in handy for something other than laughs?”

She pulled the gun out, her grip firm as she aimed it at Namjoon’s neck.

A gun.

His heart skipped a beat. Where did she get that?

"Well, well, well..." she murmured, her voice low, steady. "My internship really went wrong, didn’t it, Namjoon?" Her smirk grew wider as she leaned forward, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against Namjoon’s neck.

Her other arm snaked around his throat, choking him lightly as she whispered in his ear. “Thanks for the CV enhancement, though. My journalism career’s about to start with a bang.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in disbelief. His pulse quickened, the icy touch of the gun against his skin sending shivers down his spine. He clenched his teeth, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You—” He choked, gripping the wheel harder. “You’re making a mistake.”

Y/n leaned closer, tightening her hold on him. “No, Namjoon, I think the mistake was yours.” Her eyes flickered with a dangerous glint. “Now, how about you pull this car over, and we can chat?”

Outside, Jungkook’s Porsche screeched to a halt in front of Namjoon’s car, cutting off the path for any further escape. His anger was palpable as he leaped out of the car, his face flushed with fury.

Namjoon’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, his panic growing. He was outnumbered, outmatched, and now, with Y/n’s gun to his neck, he was running out of options.

Just then, Y/n’s voice broke through the chaos, calm and deadly. “You know what? Maybe I’ll just end this right now.” She pressed the gun harder against his neck, her finger twitching on the trigger.

There was no way out.

“Alright, alright!” Namjoon yelled, his voice strained. “You win. I’ll pull over.”

Y/n smirked, lowering the gun just slightly. “Good boy.”

“You goddamn son of a bitch!” Jungkook shouted, his words laced with rage. “You think you can just take my girl and get away with it? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Jimin and Seri were right behind him, their cars skidding to a stop as Seri immediately opened fire on the tires of Namjoon’s car. The bullets punctured each tire, sending the car to a shuddering stop.

The three of them converged on the car from different angles, their expressions fierce and unyielding.

Jungkook approached the car from one side, a grim smile spreading across his face. His gaze locked onto Y/n, holding Namjoon hostage with the gun.

“Well, well, look at you, sweetheart,” he said with a mix of pride and affection.

"What a lovely show you’ve put on, my doll. I almost fell for your act near the pool.", he smirked. .....A/n : You finish the target and get the next part, or else wait another 20 days lol.

Yeah, in next part, I'll clear about Seri, Joonie, Jiminie, Kookie, Y/n and ....... Everything else.