063

Y/N

"Then they said meet at the street Winston." 

"Winston?" I frown, shift uncomfortably— this bump pressing on my bladder like a heavy stone. "Uh Where the hell is that?"

Layla rolls her eyes hard, "Mrs. Jeon—you’re a lawyer! You don’t know the Winston Street?"

I pat Lucas’s back absently, his drool soaking into my dress. "No, Layla. No. I don’t."

She huffs— "It’s the birthplace of the underworld. Every illegal empire—every gang war—every blood oath—started there."

"Oh—Cool." I wipe drool off my collarbone. "Never heard of it."

Layla stares at me like i just grew a second head."What? I never worked with criminals," I mutter, shift Lucas to my other shoulder. "Before this asshole."

She exhales sharply— "It’s in the southeast… about half an hour from here."

A beat.

Then—

"You’re really gonna go?" Her voice cracks.

I sigh—glance down at Lucas—his tiny fist clutching my hair even in sleep—then at my swollen belly.

"Did they... mention anything else?" I ask slowly. "A time—A date?"

She shakes her head. "It just says... 'anyday.'"

"What Any day —So if I go there now—"

"You'd find them there." she finishes.

My throat clogs "W-Wha— How?"

She exhales sharply "Mrs. Jeon—They're Scorpions. They've waited years to drag boss down—you think they'd risk missing this because of something as stupid as dates?" Her eyes burn into mine. "They're waiting every day. Every hour."

I gulp. "You're saying... they're out there right now?"

She nods—slow, deliberate.

Fuck.

I glance toward the window—rain lashes against the glass like nails scraping down a chalkboard. Thunder growls somewhere beyond the villa— The world beyond the window is blur of gray and black—no shapes, no silhouettes—just the suffocating knowledge that somewhere in this mess, they're watching.

Waiting.

For me.

My fingers tighten around Lucas, For a moment—just a moment—If i walking out there. Letting the rain soak through my clothes, Lucas bundled tight against me, stepping into the mouth of the storm where the Scorpions lurk.

Would they slit my throat first?

Or take my baby from my arms before they—

"No. No, Mrs. Jeon—don’t even think about going out there now."

I blink at her. "I wasn’t."

She scoffs. "Yeah, yeah!"

I smile.

Her eyes narrow. "I know you."

She’s right. She always sees through me.—"Mrs. Jeon you're heavily pregnant, and all this will put you more in danger."

I smile weakly at her —She exhales, rubbing her temple. "Mrs. Jeon… at least wait until the delivery."

"What—why?"

"Because—" she gestures at my swollen belly—"you can barely walk without waddling like a penguin, let alone run if things go wrong!" Her voice drops—"And those monsters out there? They won’t care if you’re bleeding out on the pavement mid-contraction!"

"But—"

"A few more weeks. That’s all." Her eyes drift to my bump, swollen all round below the oversized hoodie "Then you can… whatever this is."

My fists clench—I glance down at my bump, at the way Lucas’s tiny fingers curl trustingly into my clothes even in sleep.

She’s right.

Stupidly, painfully right.

Outside, the storm rages—perfect cover, perfect chaos—but my body? It’s a liability.

"...Fine." I mutter.

But the resolve doesn’t fade—it just settles deeper, colder.

"Also boss is in the house." She mumbles "He will find out if you try anything."

Yeah. She's right.Probably watching from a dozen different cameras, that unblinking red eye watching me with silent judgement.

Of course he’s watching.

Of course.

I glare at the security system in the corner—daring him to say something.

Layla bursts out laughing."Mrs. Jeon—stop! Boss is definitely staring at you right now!"

My heart stops—"Then why the hell did you just spill our entire plan in front of it?"

She grins—then points to a tiny, almost invisible button on her uniform collar."I muted the microphone."

I freeze."Wait—really?"

She nods. "He can see us—but he can’t hear a word—unless they’re lip-reading experts" she grins  "They’ve no idea what we just talked about."

Holy shit.

A slow, relieved exhale escapes me.

She carefully takes Lucas from me—who still fast asleep, milk-drunk and blissfully unaware—and adjusts him in her arms."Now you—get some rest. And this little demon?—i’m taking him to boss."

I scoff— "Good luck with that, He won’t take him."

She smirks—already backing toward the door— "Oh, he will."

I frown.

She adjusts him carefully in her arms. "I’ll just say, ‘Mrs. Jeon told me to bring little master to you'  and he'll gladly take this little bundle."

A pause.

I couldn't help but smile. A real one.

"Thank you, Layla."

She bows slightly—  "Anytime, Mrs. Jeon."Then turns—cradled him expertly and walks out, shutting the door softly behind her.

Leaving me alone.

With the storm outside.

Sigh.

I lean back, the softness cradle my head—the downy softness of them a relief to my aching body.

I shift—trying to find a comfortable position—but this damn bump feels heavier day by day.

In the end, I give up, and manage to shift on my side. My belly presses comfortably into the pillows, one hand instinctively cradling it.

I try to ignore the way my breasts ache, still leaking where Lucas latched on—wet circles spreading over the fabric—milk dripping down my skin—thick, sticky— but im too exhausted to wipe it off.

My eyes flutter shut.

Rain continues to drum outside—an endless, rhythmless downpour, like the sky had opened just to cry.

Dark gray sky outside. No sun.

Thunder rumbles again—louder, closer.

Click—

The door opens again.I smile– eyes closed. Now she's returning with Lucas again— "I told you—He won’t take him, He doesn’t even love his own son, bloody bastard—"

"So I’m a bastard now?"

My eyes snap open.Cold hands—slide around my waist, dragging me back against a hard chest.

I jerk—try to twist around—but the grip tightens, locking me in.

"Ugh—P-Please—"

Hot breath against my ear—lips brushing the shell "And who said I don’t love my son?"

I swallow-

He shifts slightly— "Maybe not more than you...but I do love him."

"I-I'm sorry—"

"Don't be."

Nose drags up the side of my neck—slow—Silence.The rain keeps falling outside.

"P-Please—stop—"

"I won't."

I try to twist away—but his grip is iron, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my nightgown—pulling it up my bare thighs—higher—

Shit.

I’m not wearing anything underneath.

"Please—J-Jeon—"

"Why?—I am the bastard. Right ?"

"N-No, I didn’—didn’t mean—"

"No—you’re right." Teeth graze my earlobe "I am a bastard"I whimper .Tongue drags hot wet—from behind my ear down to my throat—he cups underside of my belly—

"Please—"

Lips skimming lower- down my neck to my shoulder. Rain drums harder outside—muffling the choked sound that escapes me, he holding my bump—

My chest tightens.

I hold the side pillow tighter—

"Please—Jeon—stop"

Tongue drags another slow, wet stripe up my shoulder blade. Tears comes hot, silent—sliding down my temples on the sheets.

"Say Jungkook."

"P-Please...J-Jungk—" I choke, his name tastes like acid. Jungkook my foot— Teeth graze my neck—sharp—

"Please—Jungkook—stop."

He doesn’t.

The nightgown lifts—inch by inch—fabric dragging over sensitive skin until I’m bare beneath the duvet, exposed. His palm splays over the curve of my hip—

"Please—"

"Shh" he breaths against my damp skin— his mouth doesn’t stop—lips trailing lower—teasing—biting—licking away my tears like he owns them too.

Outside, the storm rages on—thunder shaking the windows—as if the sky itself is screaming for me.

Because I can’t.

Tears streak down my cheeks—his lips move lower. My chest heaves with silent sobs. I struggle against him, but his grip unwavering.Hand slides lower, cupping one aching breast and squeezes—I gasp—milk instantly seeps out—

— "S-Stop—"

But he squeezes my swollen breasts from behind—firm, relentless—

"Please—stop—"

I whimper as streams of milk leak onto the sheets beneath. The ache is sharp, unbearable—yet he doesn’t let up, fingers pressing deeper—

"Stop—please—stop—"

He flips me onto my back swiftly— pinning me beneath him. Our eyes lock—he is Shirtless.

Muscles taut.

But looks something… different.Dangerous. something I haven't seen before.

He leans—kisses me.

Hard.

Possessive. Tongue slipping in my mouth. rough, hungry. I struggle- Hands never stop squeezing—milking me shamelessly—as if marking his claim all over again.

And I—

I don’t know if I’m crying from the pain…or the betrayal of my own body arching under his touch.

The rain rattles the window glass—thundering—like the sky itself is screaming in anger. But inside—the silence is a crushing, suffocating weight.

I keep my eyes shut tight.

"Please don't do this—"

"Why not?"

his lips slide from my mouth, down my jaw, to my neck— hot , greedy.

Tears leaking out of my eyes— tongue leaves a wet trail down my neck. I shudder— teeth graze my ear.

"Please," I whimper, even though I know it's useless.

He doesn't stop.

Hands keep squeezing, squeezing—milking me relentlessly, like he wants to mark every inch of me.Fingers twisting my nipple until I gasp.

"I own this body."

"Every drop. Every breath. Even the ones you save for him."

My tears fall faster—but he licks them away like they're his too.

"...and this baby? And my Lucas?" He nips my ear— "He calls me appa. Not Jungkook. Not bastard."

His hand slides down—over my belly—to the edge of my thigh.

"So be good, wife." He presses between my legs—not fully—but enough to make me whimper.I try to twist away—but he’s too strong—I struggle, body twisted, writhing frantically, he pushes me down into the pillows—I gasp, his mouth wraps around one leaking bud, suckling hungrily—the sharp ache shooting through me.

"P-Please...stop—"

He sucks—deep, forceful—

"Ahhh—STOP! PLEASE—"Sharp gasps tears from me— "Ahhh— stop! Please stop—"

But he doesn’t.

He sucks.Hard. Deep. Like Lucas does. Like I belong only to be fed on and used.I squirm beneath—desperate—but he holds me down with ease, his weight pressing my hips into the mattress

Hand keeps squeezing the other breast, milk already leaking in thin streams down my sides, pooling on the pillows beneath me—dripping off my skin like shame made visible.

My chest—heaves.Milk smears across his lips, drips down his chin—he doesn’t care.His face glistens—with it—with me.

"Please—" My voice cracks. "Stop..."I gasp, can't struggle anymore...Tears roll into my hairline.And worst of all?

I feel it again—the treacherous warmth low in my belly…

The body that hates him, betrays itself.

But he just pulls back for a breath—

—and goes back harder on other nipple while crushing the other between rough fingers and thumb until more milk sprays out—white bursts landing across his cheek, dripping down his jaw like war paint—

Another squeeze.Another suckle—I gasp—a strangled, hoarse sound—

"S- stop—"

He doesn't.He sucks harder—like a starving man, desperate for his meal—until the first sprays of milk land on his face—he doesn't seem to care—he keeps drinking—

"STOP! STOP—YOU BASTARD—!"

He stops.Lips hover my swollen, slick nipple—leaving it glistening aching.

I gasp — ragged breaths tearing my chest.

Silence.

His hands slowly loosen. Body still.He doesn’t move away, eyes lock on mine. Then — slowly — he licks his lips. Milk smears across them like sin.

I close my eyes.

Silence.

"This bastard loves you."

My heart stops.

Eyes snap open—His face hovers mine, eyes unwavering.

Time still.

The rain fades outside.The thunder vanishes.Air feels frozen—

I swallow.

He leans closer, breath hot on my lips.

"This. Bastard. Loves. You."

Silence.

Wha—

Love?

"...W-What?"

A beat.

"You heard me."

He swallows hard—holds my gaze—

"I...I love you."

My body goes cold—ice flooding through veins.

No–

He can't—

He… loves me?

And he’s saying it?—after the bruises, after—after all this—

I scramble back fast—he stumbles behind, caught off guard—I yank the blanket around me and turn away—can't look at the man who says he...he...

Love.

The word tastes like ash. Bitter.

I wipe my face—tears, snot, shame all smeared on my skin—

Outside—the storm still rages.Gray. Endless.Like everything inside me now.

"L-Leave"

Silence.Not a breath.

No sound but rain on glass.

I stare the stormy dark sky, And wish for lightning to strike this villa—and burn it all down with him inside—

My face wrenched forward—fingers clamping hard on my jaw—forcing eye contact.

"Say . It." His eyes red, veins thick along temples, jaw clenched. "Say you love me."

My stomach lurches—

Vile.Nauseating.Every inch of me screams to puke—to spit on his nasty face—claw those dark eyes that demand devotion from a woman, he has broken over and over—

But instead—I bite my cheek and taste blood—I pry my face from his grip. "L–leave..."

A beat.

He doesn't move.

Grips my chin hard."Say. you. love. me."

I stare at him in disbelief— How— How does he think I could ever love him?

Does he even understand the meaning of love?

It's a joke.

A sick, twisted game, isn't it—He must relish the power it gives him to demand this from me—

His face hard, veins bulging.

"Say you love me."

The audacity —How dare he?How does he even believe—believe—I could love him? Does he think I forgive and forget like it's nothing?

No.

The least of things i want is to bury him alive.

Fingers squeeze tighter—I wince—

"Say . it."

He sits. Bare chest. Messed hair. Milk on his face—and dares to say those words like they mean something sacred?

My hands tremble under the duvet—

“Leave, Jeo—"

"Junkook—Call. Me. Jungkook."

I close my eyes. Breathe deep— “Leave… J-Jungkook.”

The name tastes like poison on tongue.

I open my eyes—and he’s still here.Watching me.Waiting for a lie that will never come.

Silence.Heavy breaths.relentless rain outside like a thousand fingers tapping against glass.

Suddenly— lips crash on mine—i gasp, tongue tries to push in—but I clamp my teeth shut—shove with everything I have—He stumbles back—eyes wide.Mouth parted.Shocked.

Like he’s never been pushed before.

Like he can’t believe this tiny woman—the one he breaks every day—is daring to fight back with more than words.

I wipe my mouth with the duvet—clutch it tighter."LEAVE—leave now."

But he straightens up, hands clenched at his sides. "Not until you say it."

My blood boils—

Silence stretches.Tears well in my eyes.

"No–" i choke out  "I will never—" Clutch—A sharp sound—cold metal presses against my forehead.

The barrel of his gun.

"Say. It. Now." His voice low, trembling .

I close my eyes.

Please... please just pull the trigger.Let it end now.

"Say it now."

I clutch my bump "No."

BANG

I flinch—Glass shatters on floor beside. A vase? A picture frame?

"Say. It . Now."

Silence.

Tears spill fast—endless—

I shake my head."N-No-"

BANG

Another glass shatters—a lamp explodes near the door—room flickers into darkness for a second then sparks spit from the wall socket—

Still—he's there.Gun raised.Eyes black pits.Breathing hard. sweat glistening.

Silence.

The gun—pressed to my temple—no longer cold.

Now warm.

Alive.

"Say. It."

I swallow, lift my chin up— "No."

BANG

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