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A/n : 80+ comments for next part.

[Jungkook's POV]

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Namjoon, with his smug, blood-smeared face, lying there like he owned the room, like he had all the answers. He didn’t care about the bruises Jimin gave him, didn’t care about the blood seeping down his chin.

He cared about one thing—twisting everything until it made sense only to him.

"Why?", I asked, "Why the hell did you want to activate the Phoenix and destroy the world?"

Namjoon laughed.

He actually fucking laughed.

"Activate the Phoenix?" he echoed, as if I were an idiot for even asking.

"Jungkook, you really think that’s the big question here? Nah, kid. The real question you should be asking is who the fuck installed uranium in that thing? Who the hell decided to make it into something so goddamn lethal—like a walking atom bomb?"

He paused, his eyes flicking over to Jimin. I could see the smirk, the way he was waiting for the tension to settle in, for the poison of his words to sink deep.

"And I can’t seem to recall Mr. Kim signing off on something like this," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You think a soft, academic piece of shit like Mr. Kim would’ve ever approved of a project this fucking massive? This deadly? Nah. He would've run away the second he heard about it."

The smirk widened as he glanced at me, feeding off my confusion. “But let me guess, Jimin here convinced you to get him on board, didn’t he? Big brother needs help, and who else would he turn to but the pathetic, lovesick puppy willing to do anything for a fucking glance from Mr. Kim’s daughter?”

My chest tightened, rage bubbling up inside me, but I couldn’t say anything.

His words—they were getting to me.

And Namjoon could see it.

“Oh, come on, don’t look so shocked,” Namjoon spat, laughing darkly. "It’s almost funny when you think about it. The big, bad Jeon Jungkook, a director at one of the top universities, reduced to some sad, love-struck idiot. You were still hung up on Y/n when you saw her for the first time in the party, weren’t you? Even after she humiliated you at that party. And Jimin? Well, of course he knew about that. You yourself told him that you are keen to know about Y/n. And Jimin saw the opportunity. He played you, Jungkook. Played you like the idiot you are.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jimin growled from behind me, but Namjoon’s laugh just grew louder, crueler. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Or what, Jimin? You’ll hit me again? Break my face some more?" Namjoon sneered, his voice turning razor-sharp.

"Face it, you don’t want him hearing the truth. You don’t want him to know that you’ve been pulling his strings all along. You needed him, didn’t you? Needed him to talk to Mr. Kim and get him involved because you couldn’t do it on your own. And you knew just how to do it—wave the pretty little girl Y/n in front of him, let Jungkook think he’s got a shot. Let him think that helping you will get him a chance to be closer to her.”

Jimin stepped forward, his face red with anger, but I held up my hand, stopping him.

I needed to hear this. I needed to know.

“And it worked, didn’t it?” Namjoon continued, his voice low, taunting, each word like a stab to the gut.

"Because Jungkook here, the dumbass he is, just wanted an excuse to see Y/n. He didn’t give a shit about the Phoenix project—he cared about getting close to the professor’s daughter. How could you not see it, Jungkook? You’ve been nothing but a pawn in Jimin’s game."

I swallowed hard, the bile rising in my throat. Namjoon was ripping apart everything I thought I knew.

And the worst part?

It made sense.

Jimin never asked me for anything.

Never needed my help.

But the one time he did, it was for something that would bring me closer to Y/n, the one thing I wanted more than anything else.

"You son of a bitch," I muttered, my grip tightening on the gun.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "Oh, now you’re getting it. Took you long enough."

“Don’t listen to him, Jungkook,” Jimin cut in, his voice pleading. “This is all bullshit. We did this for the defense forces. The Korean army needs the Phoenix for protection. It’s official. There’s a contract—"

“Defense forces? Really?” Namjoon cut him off, his laughter sharp and biting. "Jungkook, you’re going to believe that? Your brother’s feeding you the same lies he’s been feeding you for years. You think the Korean army gives a shit about you? Or Y/n? Or anyone? Jimin’s been using you, manipulating you, since day one."

I felt my stomach churn, memories flooding back—Jimin asking for my help, pulling me into the project, playing on my feelings for Y/n. It all lined up.

“You fucking bastard,” Jimin snarled, trying to step closer but I stopped him.

“You want to know what’s really funny?” Namjoon asked, his voice lowering, like he was sharing a secret with me.

"Your brother’s whole life has been about controlling people, using them. You’re just another one of his tools. And the best part? He knew exactly how to manipulate you, Jungkook. He knew you’d do anything for Y/n."

Jimin was shaking now, his hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t say anything.

He couldn’t.

Because deep down, I knew Namjoon was right.

“You think Jimin ever cared about you?” Namjoon continued, his voice turning brutal, mocking. "You think he ever saw you as his brother? Nah. You were just a means to an end. A way to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was power. And you, poor little Jungkook, were just stupid enough to fall for it.”

“I’m not—” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

“You’re not what?” Namjoon sneered.

“You’re not stupid? Look at you. You’ve been running around like a fucking lapdog, doing everything your brother says because you think he’s family. But he’s not. He’s just another asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about you."

I glanced at Jimin, my head spinning. I wanted to deny it, to call Namjoon a liar, but I couldn’t.

Namjoon’s voice grew softer, more sinister. “Tell me, Jungkook—why do you think you never got to live the life you wanted? Why do you think you’re standing here with a gun in your hand instead of a fucking research paper? You wanted to be a professor, didn’t you? You loved research. You were happy with that life. But Jimin? Oh, no. He ripped that away from you. Forced you into his world, into his mess. You’ve been nothing but a puppet, your strings pulled by the very man who was supposed to be your brother.”

Jimin stepped forward, desperate now. "Jungkook, stop. Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to turn us against each other."

But Namjoon wasn’t finished. “Turn you against each other?” he scoffed.

“You’ve been against him since the beginning, Jimin. You’ve been using him, manipulating him, turning him into something he never wanted to be. All for what? Your fucking missile? Your precious Phoenix?”

My grip on the gun tightened, my knuckles white. I wanted to scream, to rip Namjoon’s throat out.

But I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if I could trust Jimin.

Namjoon’s laugh echoed in the room, dark and mocking. “You see it now, don’t you? You’re just like me, Jungkook. Used. Manipulated. Left to rot. But don’t worry—I’m going to enjoy watching it all burn.”

Jimin’s voice cut through the tension, loud and desperate. "Namjoon, stop! Enough!"

"Shut up, Jimin," I growled, the words barely scraping past my teeth.

I didn’t want to hear him. Not right now. I couldn’t.

Every word he had thrown at me was tearing through my mind like jagged shards of glass, and I was spiraling, my thoughts a mess of confusion, betrayal, and rage.

But I had to know. I needed the truth. The real truth. Not the lies Jimin had fed me for years. Not the manipulations that had pulled me deeper into his world.

I turned to Namjoon, my eyes narrowing. "Why should I believe you?" I hissed, my voice sharp. "Why should I believe anything that comes out of your fucking mouth? You’re just as much a liar as Jimin. Probably worse. So why the fuck should I trust you?"

Namjoon’s lips curled into that sick, mocking grin again, the one that made my blood boil. "Oh, Jungkook… you really think this is about trust?"

"Why believe me?" Namjoon asked, his tone turning more sinister, more calculated.

"But why believe me over your precious brother? I mean, after all, Jimin is your brother." He let the word roll off his tongue mockingly, like it was some sort of twisted joke.

His voice dropped, quieter now, but it carried more weight.

More malice.

"Except... he's not your only brother."

For a moment, my heart stopped. The air in the room thickened, and it felt like the walls were closing in on me. My grip on the gun faltered, just for a second, as the world around me seemed to slow to a crawl.

"What… what the fuck did you just say?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, but my pulse was racing, pounding in my ears like thunder.

"You heard me, Jungkook. We share the same mother. Hana? Yeah, she’s my mom too. That bastard lady who couldn’t keep her pussy covered. Always needed a dick to fill her up. She wasn’t just screwing around with your dad. She had me too. We’re family."

Namjoon? My brother?

No. No, this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t fucking be real.

But the more I tried to deny it, the more it all started to make sense. The twisted puzzle pieces of my fucked-up life began to click together.

[Flashback]

I remembered my mother—Jeon Hana.

She was never there.

She was always out, fucking around, leaving me with Gumeun eomma.

Suddenly, I was back there—back in those memories.

Those horrible, suffocating memories.

I was a kid again, no older than four or five, sitting in a home with Jimin and Gumeun eomma.

I didn’t belong to anyone, not really.

And I would call my mom, hoping she would come and take me home. Hoping she would hear my cries and do something.

But all I ever got on the other end was the sound of her fucking.

The sound of her with some man who was or wasn't my father.

I remember crying into the phone, begging her to pick up, to talk to me, to just fucking be there for me.

But all I got were her moans.

Her breathless, disgusting moans, as if I didn’t fucking exist.

"Mom… please," I would whisper into the receiver, my tiny voice shaking with tears. "Mom, I’m scared. Please, come get me…"

But she never did.

And now… now Namjoon was standing here, telling me that we were fucking brothers.

That my mother had betrayed me again—had another family, another son, another life that I never knew about.

[Flashback over]

“Our mom’s a whore, Jungkook.” He smirked, the corners of his lips curling into something disgusting, something vile. “You know it. I know it. She spread her legs for every man who could give her a better life, a better status. And then she left us. Left me. Took one look at your father’s wealth and thought, ‘Well, that’s my ticket.’”

“You’re lying,” I managed to choke out, but my voice didn’t carry the strength it needed.

Namjoon tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “Am I?” His voice was mocking, every word coated in venom. “Tell me, Jungkook, you're not that stupid to believe that your mom isn't a whore?"

“Mom… left you?” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “You… you’re her son?”

Namjoon laughed, but it wasn’t a laugh that held any joy. It was bitter, harsh, the sound of someone who had been hurt too many times.

“Yeah, I’m her fucking son. But I guess I wasn’t good enough for her. I was just a mistake. She had me with some guy—Mr. Kim’s personal assistant. That’s right, Jungkook. Our mother was fucking her way through his staff before she landed your precious father.”

I felt like I was going to throw up.

“After she had me, she dumped me with my father and ran off with Mr. Jeon,” Namjoon continued, his voice growing colder with each word.

“You know what that was like? Watching your mother walk away, knowing she was never coming back? Knowing she’d rather spread her legs for a rich man than raise her own son?”

I could hear the bitterness in his voice now, the raw hatred that had been festering for years.

And for the first time, I saw Namjoon not as the enemy, but as someone who had been broken just like me.

Someone who had been abandoned, betrayed, just like me.

“She didn’t care about us, Jungkook. She didn’t care about me. She didn’t care about you. All she cared about was herself,” Namjoon spat, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto mine with a ferocity that made my skin crawl. “She had her fun with my father, but when he wasn’t good enough anymore, she found your dad. Found the mansion, the luxury, the status. She left me to rot with my pathetic excuse of a father.”

The truth was laid bare in front of me, and it was more grotesque than I could’ve ever imagined.

“What… what happened to your dad?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Namjoon’s expression darkened, his smirk twisting into something cruel, something filled with hatred. “Oh, he tried to get her back. Over and over again. Pathetic, really. He begged her to return. Begged her to come back to me. But Hana? She didn’t give a fuck. She never even looked back. She was too busy being the good wife to Mr. Jeon, living her perfect life in that mansion."

Our mother… she wasn’t just unfaithful.

She was ruthless.

Cold.

She had abandoned him.

Left him with a father who couldn’t bear the weight of her rejection.

“And when she didn’t come back, you know what my father did?” Namjoon’s voice lowered to a growl, his hands clenched into fists. “He fucking killed himself. Couldn’t take it anymore. He was too much of a coward to live without her.”

I recoiled, the shock of his words hitting me like a freight train. Namjoon’s father… had committed suicide.

And it was all because of her.

Our mother.

The woman who had raised me, who had pretended to care about me and Jimin, had destroyed Namjoon’s life. She had left him to suffer while we grew up in a mansion, living in comfort, unaware of the hell she had left behind.

“You don’t get it, do you, Jungkook?” Namjoon snarled, his voice rising. “You had everything. You and Jimin, living in that fucking mansion, being raised like princes while I was rotting away. She gave you everything and left me with nothing.”

“She robbed me of what I deserved!” Namjoon’s voice was a roar now, filled with years of pent-up rage. “I should’ve been the one living that life! I should’ve been the one with the mansion, the status, the family! But no. She left me to suffer while you lived in fucking luxury. She abandoned me, and she chose you.”

"Shut the fuck up, Namjoon!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "You think you’re the only one who suffered? You think I had it easy? You think growing up with her was fucking easy?"

Namjoon sneered at me, his eyes filled with contempt. “Please. You lived in that mansion with your precious father. You don’t know a damn thing about suffering.”

I stepped forward, my hands trembling, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. “You think I didn’t see it? You think I didn’t hear it? The fucking moans on the phone when I was just a kid, calling her, crying for her? She didn’t give a fuck about me either, Namjoon! She was too busy with her lovers, too busy living her own life!”

Namjoon’s smirk faltered for a moment, but then it returned, sharper, more cruel. “At least you had a life. At least you had a fucking mansion. All I had was a dead father and a mother who didn’t want me. She gave you everything I was supposed to have.”

“And you think I fucking wanted it?” I shot back, my voice breaking. “You think I wanted to be part of her twisted game? You think I wanted to be the son of a woman who couldn’t even look me in the eyes?”

Namjoon broke the silence, his voice softer now, but still filled with anger. “She ruined us both. But you got the better end of the deal, Jungkook. You got the life. You got the family. And I was left with nothing.”

I couldn’t argue with him.

Not anymore.

He was right, in a way.

I had the mansion, the family.

But it was all a lie.

Everything about my life was a fucking lie.

The gun in my hand felt like dead weight now, but I wasn’t sure if I could even trust myself to put it down. My mind was spinning, every memory, every lie, every hidden truth resurfacing like bile in my throat.

Namjoon’s voice cut through the haze, cold and calculated. “You don’t get it, do you, Jungkook? All of this… everything I’ve done… it’s been for one reason. Revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge for everything your family took from me. I wanted to watch you burn in the ruins of everything your filthy family built, every lie they spun, every fucking dollar they made off the backs of people like me.”

“You know why Phoenix was gonna target those cities, don’t you?” he continued, his tone mockingly casual.

“New York, New Delhi, Tokyo, Beijing,  Seoul Cairo, Birmingham, London, Ankara, Ontario, Sydney, Manila, Dubai and Doha. Only the cities where your precious Jeon family has their trading bases. Jenesis Corps. All those sparkling, shiny towers you and your brother sit in. I was gonna blow them to pieces.”

Jimin let out a low growl behind me, his voice thick with rage. “You’re insane. You think you’re some kind of hero, taking down Jeon Enterprises? You’re a fucking psychopath. The Phoenix’s blast wouldn’t just destroy those towers. It’d wipe out entire cities. Millions of people.”

Namjoon’s grin twisted into something darker, more grotesque. “Oh, I know. That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? You don’t get to pick and choose who dies, Jimin. Collateral damage, they call it, right? The way your family treats people as if they’re nothing more than collateral.”

"Your little revenge fantasy doesn’t make you righteous. It makes you a fucking monster.”

Namjoon’s eyes flicked to me, ignoring Jimin’s rage. He smirked, that same sickening grin that twisted my stomach. “Isn’t that what we all are, Jungkook? Monsters, wearing the skin of men. You and I… we’re not so different. We were both robbed of something. But at least I have the balls to take back what was mine.”

“You think blowing up cities, killing millions of people, is going to fix anything? You’re just proving that you’re as broken as the rest of us. At least I tried to live better, even after everything that happened.”

Namjoon’s grin faded, replaced by a cold, mocking sneer. “Live better? Don’t fucking kid yourself, Jungkook. You didn’t live better.

You didn’t live at all.

You just fucked your way through every woman who would spread her legs for you.

You think fucking your way through every woman in sight is gonna fill that hole she left in you?

You’re a sex addict, Jungkook.

Just like her.”

The words stung like acid, burning through me. “Shut up,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Namjoon’s laughter was cruel, harsh. “What’s the matter? Truth hurt? You think fucking all those women makes you a man? It just makes you as pathetic as her. You didn’t live a good life, Jungkook. You lived in denial. You let your dick lead you through life because you didn’t want to face the truth about who you really are. Just a scared, broken little boy.”

Namjoon’s eyes bore into mine, cold and unforgiving. “You think you can fix it now? You think there’s some way out of this? You’re a fucking joke, Jungkook. And you know what’s the best part?”

He leaned in, his voice a chilling whisper.

“Your lover is carrying your child and you never even got to know about it.”

The room felt like it was closing in on me, the air thick with tension and betrayal.

My eyes flicking between Namjoon and Jimin, but it was Y/n’s shivering frame that drew my attention.

She stood there, shaking, like she was about to collapse, her eyes wide with fear, guilt, and something else—something that mirrored the disbelief I felt boiling inside me.

Her arms wrapped around her body as if she could shield herself from the truth that had just been laid bare.

Pregnant with my child.

I’d known. Deep down, I’d suspected it. There was no denying the signs, the way she avoided me after that night, the fear in her eyes whenever I’d confronted her. I had even asked her, confronted her in Moscow when we were alone. But she’d denied it. Flat out. She’d looked me dead in the eyes and told me it was from another one night stand of hers.

She had shut me down cold, and I’d believed her. Why wouldn’t I? She had no reason to lie, right? But now…

Now, with Namjoon’s cruel grin stretching across his face, it all came crashing down.

I glared at her, heart pounding in my chest. "You… you lied to me?" My voice came out ragged, more a growl than words. She didn’t answer.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked away, unable to meet my gaze.

Namjoon took a step closer, his tone gleeful, feeding off the chaos he was sowing. “Oh, she didn’t just lie to you, Jungkook. You’ve been a puppet this whole time, dancing on strings that Jimin’s been pulling. You think she just randomly denied it? Nah, man. She came to that party to tell you everything, to spill the truth about your little lovechild. But guess what happened?”

His eyes flicked to Jimin, who was standing as still as a statue, squirming under the weight of what was coming.

“Jimin happened.”

I froze, my grip on the gun tightening as I turned my attention to Namjoon’s every word. He took his time, relishing in the way he had control over the situation. "Yeah, that’s right. Your big brother here made sure Y/n would never tell you the truth. He painted a picture for her, Jungkook. A disgusting, manipulative, filthy picture of who you are.”

Jimin's face was pale, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t say a word.

Namjoon continued, his voice laced with venom. “Y/n came to you at that party, desperate, terrified. Pregnant by her professor. A girl with her whole life ahead of her, carrying your baby, Jungkook. But do you think Jimin was going to let her tell you? Hell no. He cornered her first. Fed her lies, twisted everything in that sick little head of his.”

I clenched my teeth, unable to tear my eyes away from Y/n. She was crying now, soft, quiet sobs that made my stomach twist.

“Jimin told her you didn’t care,” Namjoon said, voice darkening with glee. “He made sure to plant those little seeds of doubt. Told her you were a manwhore—said you’d only used her, that you’d never want anything to do with a baby. He painted this beautiful, tragic picture of you as the monster, Jungkook. That all you cared about was screwing her and moving on.”

I couldn’t stop the snarl that ripped from my throat. “Jimin… is that true?” I asked, my voice shaking, a mixture of fury and disbelief. But Jimin stayed silent, his jaw clenched, his eyes flickering between me and the gun in my hand.

Namjoon laughed bitterly. “Oh, it gets better. You think that’s the worst part? He didn’t just stop at telling her you wouldn’t want the baby. No, no. He told her to get rid of it. Encouraged her to abort it.”

Y/n’s sobs grew louder, and she collapsed to her knees, her hands covering her face as if she could block out the reality unfolding around her.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she choked out, voice muffled through her tears. “I was scared, Jungkook. I… I didn’t want to lose you.”

My heart hammered in my chest, my vision blurring with anger. “Jimin!” I roared, my voice echoing in the small room. “Is this true? Did you tell her to get rid of our child?”

Jimin flinched, his face tightening, but still, he said nothing. His silence was damning. It was confirmation enough.

Namjoon’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp as a blade. “You see, Jungkook, Jimin didn’t want you to know about the baby. Because he knew—he fucking knew that once you found out, you’d never be able to focus on what he wanted. He needed you distracted, but not with fatherhood. No, that would ruin his plans. He needed you focused on something bigger, something that would benefit him. And a baby? Well, that would just be a distraction, wouldn’t it?”

Park Jimin.

My brother.

The one I loved the most.... Is the reason behind my broken life?

A million emotions of pain and wrath combined together fall short in explaining the amount of hatred I felt in that moment for my dear brother..

Park Jimin.

How dare you?.....A/n : This story is coming to an end very soon.

Also, you guys should check out my new book :) it's out now on my profile.

Book name : Sex & Blood

Author: Moon_3004

Prologue :

“You’re mine, body and soul. You can scream, cry, and fight all you want, but it won’t change a damn thing. No one else will ever touch you again.”

In a world where power and passion intertwine, Jungkook is a mafia king with a ruthless reputation and a dark secret. He kills her father, but she doesn’t know, igniting a dangerous game of deception and desire. Y/n, a fierce mafia queen, won’t bow to anyone—not even him.

He grips her throat, whispering promises of pleasure mixed with pain, reminding her that she belongs to him. Their love is a violent battle.

In this twisted tale of obsession, they discover that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. As the bodies pile up and their hearts become entangled, they must confront the dark truth of their feelings: sometimes, love is the deadliest weapon of all.