† 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟲𝟱 †

╭─━─━─━─━─━─╮𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟲𝟱†❝𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗❞╰─━─━─━─━─━─╯

༺ ☠︎ † 𝖁 𝖎 𝖘 𝖎 𝖔 𝖓 𝖎 𝖓 𝕯 𝖆 𝖗 𝖐 † ☠︎ ༻

Patience had never been one of Jungkook's strengths.

Waiting irritated him. It always had. He was the kind of person who wanted things immediately, control immediately and the longer something was out of his hands, the faster his temper started slipping.

And right now, as evening slowly faded into night outside the windows, he could feel his patience wearing dangerously thin.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Only the faint ticking of the clock echoed through the living room, stretching the silence even more. Jungkook sat on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the front door like he expected it to open at any second.

At first, his face carried no visible emotion, just a blank expression, calm on the surface but underneath that stillness, irritation had already started building slowly inside him. Because for the first time in days, he had come home earlier than usual.

And Evie wasn't there.

No sign of her anywhere.

At first, he hadn't thought much of it. He had assumed she was somewhere in the house— upstairs, maybe in the kitchen or locked away in one of her quiet moods again. But after checking room after room and finding nothing, it became obvious she had gone out.

Which was unusual. Especially at this hour.

Evie barely went outside unless it was necessary, and she almost never stayed out late-particularly around the time he usually came home. Most days, she kept herself inside the house like she had nowhere else to be.

So where the hell was she?

The first few excuses came easily to him. Maybe she had gone to the market. Maybe she went for a walk. Maybe she had visited her father. Even though she rarely went there without at least informing one of the maids first.

Still... the time kept passing, minute by minute and outside, the sky had already darkened completely but still there's no sign of her.

He had already asked the maid earlier, the moment he came home and realized Evie wasn't there. She had simply told him, "Mrs. Jeon said she was going out for some personal work. She didn't tell me where she was going or why. She only said she'd be back soon."

That was it. No exact place, no proper explanation, no time. Nothing at all.

At that moment, he had only nodded distractedly and gone upstairs to change, not thinking much about it. But now, as the hours dragged on and darkness settled fully outside, his patience was wearing thinner with every passing minute.

How could she just leave without properly saying where she was going?

The thought alone irritated him more than it should have and the more time passed, the worse his frustration became.

By now, he was already sure that the second she came back, he was going to deal with her properly.

Unable to sit still anymore, he abruptly stood up from the sofa and started pacing around the living room. He walked toward the main door, stopped there for a second, then turned back again, only to sit down briefly before standing up once more and repeating the same restless cycle.

His fingers pushed roughly through his hair as irritation crawled deeper under his skin.

Finally, he pulled out his phone again and dialed her number for what felt like the fifth time tonight.

The call rang and rang. And once again—no answer.

His jaw tightened slightly as the screen dimmed before locking in his hand.

He stared at it blankly for a moment, his frustration growing heavier with every second of silence.

Frustrated, he suddenly turned his head toward the hallway where the maid was still quietly arranging a few things near the console table. The irritation building inside him finally snapped loose.

"Seriously?" he called out sharply, his voice cutting through the silence of the house. "She didn't say anything else before leaving? Not even one thing? Where exactly did she go?"

The maid froze slightly before turning around nervously.

"Sir..." she started carefully, clearly caught off guard by his tone, "I already told you what Madam said. She only mentioned that she had some personal work and that she would return soon."

Jungkook stared at her impatiently, making her continue quickly.

"She left in the morning," the maid explained softly. "She looked normal... she didn't take any luggage or anything important. I thought maybe she was just stepping out for a while."

"And you didn't ask where she was going?" he interrupted immediately, irritation obvious in his voice. "You just let her leave without asking a single question?"

The maid lowered her eyes slightly. "Sir... Madam usually doesn't explain much these days. And honestly, I didn't think it was my place to question her. She only said she'd be back soon, so I assumed—"

"You assumed," he repeated with a humorless scoff, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. Absolutely great."

The maid stayed silent.

"She leaves the house without telling anyone properly where she's going, doesn't answer her phone for hours and nobody in this house thinks that's strange?" he muttered, more to himself than to her now. "Useless. Absolutely useless."

His frustration spilled out carelessly and even he knew half of it wasn't really directed at the maid. But irritation had been sitting under his skin for hours now and she had simply become the easiest target for it.

The maid nodded quietly, not wanting to get caught further in the middle of his temper. She gave a small apology under her breath before walking away quickly toward the kitchen.

The moment she disappeared, the silence returned again, heavy and annoying, his irritation only worsened the more he thought about it.

The audacity of her to leave the house like this, without properly informing anyone. Without answering his calls. Without even bothering to pick up once.

She had left in the morning and now it was already evening–dark enough that most people had finished their day and were probably sitting down for dinner by now. Yet she was still outside.

Where the hell could she even be?

He had no fucking idea.

With a frustrated exhale, he dropped back onto the sofa, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees again. This time his eyes stayed fixed on the tiled floor beneath him, though his mind was running too fast to focus on anything properly.

"This woman..." he muttered under his breath with a tight jaw. "She never fails to give me a damn headache."

But even then, after saying it, his eyes still lifted back toward the front door again automatically still waiting for it to open.

He kept trying to convince himself that maybe she had gone to her father's house. That was the only explanation that made some sense to him because there was no way she would stay wandering outside alone this late for no reason.

And after everything that had happened between them over the past few days— the fights, the growing silence, the coldness settling heavier between them —maybe she just needed space again. Maybe she was still angry. Still holding onto everything that had piled up between them.

It wouldn't have been the first time she had distanced herself when things became too much.

Still... even then, she usually came back before it got this late.

That was what was bothering him now.

The sky outside had already turned completely dark, and yet there was still no sign of her. On top of that, she wasn't answering a single one of his calls. That alone was enough to slowly turn his irritation into something sharper.

He thought about calling her father directly but what if she wasn't there?

Then questions would start. Too many questions. Questions he didn't feel like answering or explaining. So for now, waiting still seemed like the better option.

But if she didn't come back soon, he knew he would eventually have no choice but to go out and look for her himself.

There wasn't much else he could do at the moment except sit there and wait.

And so he did.

Time dragged painfully slowly. Every minute felt longer than it actually was. His leg bounced restlessly against the floor while his fingers tapped against his knee. His jaw kept tightening unconsciously before relaxing again.

Then finally, the sound of the front door unlocking broke through the quiet.

Jungkook immediately straightened from the sofa and turned toward the entrance.

His eyes locked onto the doorway the second Evie stepped inside.

She looked tired but not panicked. Calm, almost too calm. Her expression wasn't rushed or guilty like someone returning home late expecting questions. If anything, she looked composed.

And that instantly caught his attention.

She was dressed more formally than usual, like she had gone somewhere important—a meeting, maybe some kind of appointment. A small purse hung from one shoulder while another bag rested in her hand.

For a second, he just stared at her silently, his eyes instinctively scanning her appearance.

As she walked in, his first instinct was to stand up and he did. His voice came out sharp and questioning, not angry, but definitely irritated. "Where were you all day?" he asked as he moved toward her. "I've been waiting for hours. I came early and you weren't even home."

She paused slightly, her body reacting to his presence but she didn't stop completely. She turned her eyes toward him, briefly, surprised to see him there so early. Normally, he stayed out late, sometimes not even returning home until the middle of the night.

And for the past two days, he hadn't come home at all except to sleep. Seeing him here now, suddenly questioning her, wasn't what she expected.

She gave him a glance but didn't say anything immediately, too done with everything to even respond properly and continued walking inside. But he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Evie," he said again, "I asked you something. Where were you? I've been calling like a fool and you didn't even pick up. What the hell?"

She tried to move past him but he didn't let her, once again stepping in her way to stop her.

Letting out a breath, she looked at him and replied, "I was out. I had some personal work and was quite busy the whole day to notice your calls." Her tone was flat... like she didn't have the mood to explain herself to him or even waste her time doing so.

"Personal work?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What kind of personal work keeps you out all day long? It's dark outside, Evie. And you didn't even bother answering your phone." His jaw tightened as he stared at her, irritation and restlessness clear on his face. "Do you even realize how worried I was? I called you so many damn times."

She didn't reply right away. For a second, it looked like she might ignore him altogether and walk away but then she stopped. She met his eyes–not with defiance, not exactly with frustration either, maybe just a little–but with the same calmness she had walked in with.

"I was with Ethan," she said simply. "Today was my interview for a new job. I had to go."

Jungkook frowned as he looked at her, confusion written all over his face. "What? Job?" he asked, like the word itself didn't make sense coming from her mouth.

Evie sighed, already feeling the heaviness settling in her chest. She knew this conversation would turn ugly, and honestly, she didn't want to deal with it right now. She was already too tired to stand there, look at his face and answer his questions. The last thing she wanted was another baseless fight, another evening where her peace and the good mood she had after such a long time would be ruined all over again.

But still, she answered him because hiding it would only make things worse and she didn't think she should hide the fact that she had passed her interview.

Let's see how crazy he'll get after hearing it, because no matter how he felt about it, she was going to do it anyway.

"Yes. A job," she said firmly, looking straight at him. "I had an interview today. I applied for it a while back... and I got selected. I'm going to start working again. Ethan helped me prepare for it, that's why I got late and couldn't come back earlier. Any more questions?"

Jungkook blinked at her, looking genuinely stunned, as if someone had just dropped a bomb in front of him. His expression shifted from shock to disbelief, and then to something darker... maybe anger.

"You're working again?" he repeated, as if saying it out loud would somehow help him process it.

She gave him a small nod in response, already knowing his reaction wouldn't be anything positive or helpful enough to preserve her good mood. But she was too tired to care anymore.

His voice grew harsher. "Why the hell would you even do that? Didn't I make it clear earlier that I didn't want you to work? I thought we already discussed this."

Evie clenched her jaw. She had expected this reaction. She had played this conversation in her head a hundred times and it always ended the same way—with him trying to control her life like he always did.

She didn't want to argue but she also didn't want this man to be so delusional that he thought he could command her and she would simply obey him.

"First of all, whether you want me to work or not doesn't matter to me," she said, her tone calm but firm. "And as for your concern, I need to do something for myself. I need to feel like me again. I'm doing this because my mental health is getting worse every day. I feel stuck, and I need a way out. So yes, I'm going to work. And I'm not asking for permission, especially not yours."

Okay, it was indirectly challenging him, and somehow, it pinched his pride.

Jungkook's jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on her. "Well, nice try but I'm your husband, and I don't want my wife working under someone else like some random employee. It's not good for my reputation. We can find another way for you to deal with your mental stress."

She looked him dead in the eyes without blinking. Again, all this nonsense. But now, she wasn't going to tolerate any of it anymore.

"Well, I'm not just someone's wife in the first place," she replied. "I'm also a person. And I will be joining the job within a few weeks. If I don't see any problem with it, then you shouldn't either. And if you can't handle seeing me work, then that's your problem, not mine. I won't let it bother me anymore."

He stared at her like he couldn't recognize her anymore.

The confidence in her voice, the way she didn't flinch—this wasn't the same Evie who used to stay quiet and let things slide. This one was finally standing up for herself.

Jungkook exhaled harshly, frustration bubbling in his chest. He knew her.

He knew this was her way of rebelling—of getting back at him for how things had been between them lately. Especially after everything that happened during her birthday. He couldn't help but feel like she was trying to pissing him off.

"Stop this nonsense," he snapped, trying to stay calm but clearly failing. "You're just doing this to piss me off. I know how you are. That day—you were the one who ruined things. I snapped because I was angry by your mistake. And on your birthday, I even gave you my credit card, but you ignored it. I didn't wish you—so what? It's just a day. That's not a reason to suddenly rebel like this. This is very childish."

Evie looked at him in disbelief. What the hell.

Did he really think she was doing all this just to annoy him?

Did he really think her pain, her suffocation, her choices—were all about him?

How delusional could he be to think she was doing all this just to get his attention back or to piss him off? When in reality, she was only trying to pull herself out of this mess.

He stepped closer, his voice hardening. "Now stop acting dramatic, change your clothes and come downstairs. It's dinner time."

That authoritative tone alone was enough to mess with her head and make anger rise inside her.

"Stop this nonsense," she told him bluntly. "I'm not doing this to get back at you or create some scene. And honestly, I don't have time for all this nonsense just to get your attention back. I'm doing this for me. For my life. I want to be independent. I refuse to become one of those women who depend on men for every damn thing. If that makes me rebellious in your eyes, then so be it."

That was enough to leave him speechless for a moment. He just stared at her, clearly caught off guard by the confidence in her voice.

She turned away from him, exhausted and unwilling to ruin her mood any further. "I'm done for today. Move. I want to rest."

But as she tried to walk past him, his hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back suddenly. His grip was firm enough to catch her off guard.

"What the hell are you even doing?" he asked, anger simmering beneath his voice, though he still seemed to be trying to keep it under control. To him, it still felt like she was deliberately trying to provoke him.

She immediately tried to pull herself free, but his grip tightened as he dragged her back again.

"Stand still," he ordered, his eyes fixed on her.

She instantly yanked her arm out of his grip, her expression shifting from calm frustration to rising anger. She stared at him, trying to make sense of this behavior, but all she felt was disbelief.

Jungkook didn't even seem to realize how controlling his tone had become. His eyes were serious, filled with authority as he stepped closer and said through gritted teeth, "Didn't you listen to me before? Back then, when I told you I didn't want you to work, you listened, didn't you? Well, I'm saying it again now. Take it however you want, but you're not going to work. I don't give you permission."

Did this man even hear himself before saying all this bullshit and expect people to actually take him seriously? Because this is unbelievable, the level of confidence he has that she'll listen to him.

Her chest rose sharply with every breath as she tried to control herself, but her patience was finally breaking. When she spoke, her voice was firm and straight to the point.

"Permission?" she repeated in disbelief. "Are you serious right now? Do you really think you're some superior person whose wife needs permission to make decisions about her own life? Stop being so delusional and thinking you have authority over me when you don't. I was stupid enough to listen to you before, but not anymore."

He only let out a scoff at that, his eyebrows twitching in irritation as he stepped closer to her— close enough that she had to take a few steps back just to maintain some distance between them.

"I know you're bitter about earlier," he said coldly. "And I know you're doing all this just to piss me off. But I don't care. You listened to me back then, didn't you? Even you admitted it was stupid. So you'll listen to me again."

God, she really didn't think it would be this hard to explain something as basic as human rights and freedom to him. Was it really so difficult for him to understand?

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself before speaking again, trying to explain things without completely losing her temper on him.

"Back then, I gave up that job because I respected you," she said firmly. "Because I thought that's what mutual understanding between a husband and wife looked like. I thought that's what love and partnership meant— respect, not ownership. That's why I listened to you before. But not anymore."

Jungkook let out mocking scoff, clearly growing more frustrated with every word coming out of her mouth.

"I don't give a damn about all this moral bullshit you're talking about," he snapped. "I said what I had to say, and that's the end of it. Keep arguing all you want, it won't change anything. You're still going to listen to me."

She shook her head in disbelief. She swore she was making perfect sense, trying to avoid a bigger argument by simply stating facts, but he was making everything difficult by being so irrational.

"Don't twist basic respect into some power game," she said sharply. "I respected you as my husband—not because you ordered me to, not because I was supposed to obey you. I agreed back then out of understanding, not because I was beneath you. But now? I won't live like this anymore. I won't sit quietly while someone tells me what I can or cannot do. No one gets to control my choices—not my parents, not my husband, no one."

That was it. Something inside him finally snapped.

In just two quick steps, he closed the distance between them and grabbed her shoulders harshly, pulling her toward him until she was forced to look directly into his eyes.

"I'm saying it again," he said through clenched teeth. "I don't give a flying fuck about your opinions or all this moral crap. You belong to me. You'll stay in this house, and no matter how much you try to feed me this bullshit, things will happen on my terms."

The sudden physical contact made anger and disgust instantly rise inside her. Her hands immediately pushed against his wrists, trying to force him off her shoulders, but his grip only tightened harder.

She stared straight into his eyes without fear, no longer caring about consequences because she had already seen the worst side of him.

"Just because I signed a marriage certificate doesn't mean you own me," she whispered coldly. "Just because I use your last name doesn't give you the right to treat me like something you possess. I'm still me. I have my own identity, my own life, and I don't need your damn permission to live it. You don't own me—no matter what fantasy you've built inside your head."

His jaw tightened immediately, and his grip became even harsher, enough to almost make her hiss in pain, though she forced herself to stay quiet.

His ego was bruised. His pride was wounded. And she could see it clearly all over his face. His eyes had darkened with pure rage now.

He leaned closer, staring directly into her eyes, his entire demeanor turning dangerous. His voice dropped lower, slower, but filled with such terrifying intensity that it made her feel trapped beneath it.

"Keep living in your little delusion if that helps you sleep at night," he said. "But the moment you signed those papers, the moment you took my surname, you became mine. Whether you like it or not, I fucking own you—your life, your choices, everything. You will obey me. If I say you can work, then you'll work. And if I decide you stay locked inside this house, then that's exactly where you'll stay."

Her struggle against his grip slowly stopped as the intensity of the moment settled heavily around them.

For a moment, she couldn't even speak. She only stared at him in shock, feeling something crack painfully inside her chest.

His words weren't just controlling anymore. They were cruel.

This couldn't be the same man she had fallen in love with a year ago. That man and this version of him felt completely different.

This wasn't anger anymore—it was power. Domination. The way he spoke made her feel less like a person and more like some object he believed he owned.

Every instinct inside her was screaming now. Every part of her body felt alarmed, repelled by him and everything he was becoming. He wasn't someone she recognized anymore.

But he still wasn't done.

"You're growing wings now, huh?" he said mockingly. "Getting bold all of a sudden. Is it Ethan? Is he the one putting all these ideas into your head? Making you think you can stand against me?"

His expression darkened even more at the thought of Ethan helping her behind his back. Betrayal—that was all he could see in it but he'll deal with it later for now his only focus was on her.

"I'll deal with him later," he muttered darkly before tightening his grip on her shoulders again. "But you better understand one thing. You are tied to me. You belong to me. And without me, you're nothing."

The more she stared at him, the more she felt herself recoil from him. Everything about this felt unbearable now–not just his touch, but his entire presence. It was enough to push her over the edge.

With rising anger, she shoved his hands off her shoulders and forcefully freed herself from his grip.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" she yelled, pushing him backward with both hands. He didn't fall, but he did stumble a step back. "Did you even hear yourself? Own me? Obey you? Who the hell do you think you are? My father? My master? You think a marriage certificate turned me into your property? Are you seriously out of your damn mind?"

"Evie, stop this—" he tried to cut her off, but she didn't let him finish.

It was obvious now– she wasn't tolerating any of his bullshit anymore.

Rage had completely blinded her ability to hold herself back, and for the first time, she didn't even want to stop. Everything between them already felt like it was hanging by a thread, stretched to its breaking point, and she could see that final strand ready to snap at any second.

And somehow, a part of her wanted it to snap completely.

"I'm not your servant," she snapped. "You don't own me. You're not some god whose words I have to follow. You're just a man—a pathetic man who once begged me to marry him! And if you couldn't handle the kind of woman I am, then maybe you should've thought twice before asking me to marry you in the first place!"

He froze for a second.

The moment the word begged left her mouth, it hit him like a slap across the face.

His jaw tightened instantly, and something shifted in his expression. She didn't need to say anything more—he had heard it loud and clear. That single word had wounded something far deeper than his pride. It hit the part of him he always tried to bury beneath control, ego, and dominance.

No matter how much authority he tried to project, it didn't change the truth—he had been the one chasing after her while she barely gave him the attention he wanted.

When he still didn't respond, standing there with a tense expression as if he'd suddenly lost his voice, she pushed even harder.

"What happened?" she asked sharply, her voice shaking with fury. "Did your ego get bruised? Your fragile little pride can't handle the truth, is that it?"

His face darkened immediately, anger clouding every other emotion in his eyes.

"Evie," he warned in a dangerously low voice, "I said stay in your limit."

But she didn't back down. If anything, she stepped even closer and shoved him lightly again out of pure defiance.

"Limit? What limit?" she shot back. "Let me remind you of something you conveniently keep forgetting. You walk around acting like you're some goddamn king and I should feel lucky to be with you but don't forget who begged who. You begged me. You chased me. You kept coming back no matter how many times I pushed you away. So stop acting like I'm some burden you were forced to carry when you were the one desperate enough to marry me."

And God, it felt good.

It felt so fucking good to finally speak without holding herself back or worrying about consequences. Because now she knew exactly where this was heading. This marriage was already falling apart, and instead of trying to save it, she found herself pushing harder toward the inevitable end.

For the first time in months, she wasn't swallowing her feelings just to keep the peace. She was throwing the truth directly in his face, and the reality check clearly wasn't sitting well with him.

Before, she used to argue with him. Now, she was exposing every ugly truth without fear because she had already taken the first step toward her freedom.

Her voice cracked with anger as she continued, refusing to stop when he still gave her nothing but that furious, wounded expression.

"You've spent the last six months acting like you're doing me some favor," she said bitterly. "Like this marriage is some burden you're tolerating. But don't twist the story, Jungkook. You were the one desperate to marry me. You're the one who kept coming back until I finally gave in. So don't stand there now and talk to me like I owe you something."

"I can see you finally got your tongue back. Ethan fed you all this, didn't he?" He said bitterly.

She stepped even closer, her face only inches away from his, her voice deadly quiet but steady. "No one teaches me anything, so stop being so insecure. I have my own brain to think. And don't mistake my silence for weakness. Just because I kept my mouth shut and tolerated your bullshit doesn't mean I can't stand up for myself. You think you can keep treating me like this and I'll just take it? You're wrong. So fucking wrong."

His teeth clenched at her words. He was barely controlling his anger now, and she was only pushing him further toward the edge.

And honestly? She wanted to see him snap. She wanted to push him until there was nothing left of this fake control he hid behind.

She wanted to see his real face completely-the person he truly was underneath all this.

She let out a scoff.

"And that crap you said– that I'm nothing without you?" she said in disbelief. "You actually believe that? Are you even listening to yourself? What kind of man says that to his own wife? You think I need you? That I rely on you? That I'd fall apart without you?" Another bitter scoff escaped her lips. "Let me tell you something. I've seen men like you before—controlling, insecure, full of themselves. And trust me, I've seen better men too. You're not special. You're not superior. You're just a man with a huge ego and an even bigger mouth."

That was the second push.

This time, stronger than before.

And she noticed it instantly–the twitch in his expression, the barely controlled rage burning beneath his skin. The way he stood there trying to hold himself together while his fragile ego was getting ripped apart piece by piece.

Funny, really.

She could see it all over his face.

He stayed silent for a moment, probably expecting her to calm down eventually, to give up, cry, or storm off to her room like before.

But no. Not this time.

This time, she was going to force every ugly truth right into his face whether he liked it or not.

Her voice turned calmer now, but somehow even more dangerous.

"You keep talking about that marriage certificate like it gave you ownership over me," she said. "Well, if I signed those papers, then I can damn well sign another set to end this marriage too. Don't think I won't."

Third push.

And his reaction this time was even worse. A deep breath left him as his eyes darkened with rage. He looked furious enough to break something.

Whatever she was doing, it was working perfectly.

Because Jungkook was never good at facing the truth, and right now she was rubbing every painful reality directly in his face.

She looked him dead in the eyes.

"You don't own me. You never did," she said firmly. "My father raised me to be strong enough to stand on my own, and I don't need a man–especially not one who talks down to me like I'm some possession. If I wanted to, I could walk out of this house right now and never look back. I could have any man I want—– hell, men far better than you—and you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it."

She paused deliberately, letting every word sink into him.

Fourth push.

And maybe this one was finally enough to tear apart whatever control he still had left.

Because the moment those words left her mouth—

"I can get any man I want. Better than you."

—something inside Jungkook snapped.

It wasn't just his pride anymore. It was something deeper. Something darker.

His hands clenched tightly at his sides, his jaw locking so hard it looked like he might crack his own teeth. His eyes turned cold, distant, almost unrecognizable, like every last ounce of restraint inside him had finally shattered.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he moved.

Before she could even process what was happening, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and he slammed her back against the wall.

The impact was hard enough to send a sharp pain shooting through her skull and spine, a small gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes widened in shock as her hands instinctively grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull him away, but for a second, her body completely froze.

"What the fuck did you just say?" he growled, his voice so low and dangerous it made the air around them feel suffocating. "Other men? Other fucking men?"

Right now, he was only seeing red.

Nothing else.

Anger had completely clouded his senses, swallowing every rational thought inside him.

His grip tightened around her throat, making it harder for her to breathe, forcing her to feel the full weight of his fury.

She gasped desperately for air, struggling against both his grip and the wall pressed against her back. Tears instantly filled her eyes.

"You dare say that shit to me?" he seethed, leaning even closer, his eyes wild with something far beyond anger as he stared directly into her tear-filled eyes. "You even think about another man, and you expect me to stand here and take that fucking bullshit? You have no idea what I'm capable of. No fucking idea."

A weak whimper escaped her lips as her body trembled violently beneath his hold. Tears blurred her vision now. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out, only shaky breaths and quiet sobs as she struggled under his grip.

"I told you to stay in your fucking limits," he snarled, his voice shaking with rage. "You're beneath me. Mine. I own every fucking piece of you, and if you dare go against me—" He paused, his burning eyes locking onto hers. "—then you'll see exactly how cruel I can be."

Another broken gasp left her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes silently pleaded with him, but he wasn't looking at her like a husband anymore.

He looked like a man completely consumed by rage.

And somehow, despite the fear clawing at her chest, a part of her still wanted to tear apart whatever mask he had left. She wanted to destroy that final thread completely.

And now it finally had snapped.

Now she could finally see him clearly. The real him beneath all those perfect-man facades he had fed her for so long.

This was the real Jungkook.

And he didn't even feel like someone she knew anymore.

At that moment, she could only blame herself too—for being naive enough to trust him, stupid enough to believe in a version of him that never truly existed.

"If I ever hear that bullshit again," he snarled before finally releasing his hand from her throat, "if I even hear you mention another man..." His voice dropped into something colder, darker. "Then you'll really see who I am behind this face you think you know."

And with that, he shoved her back with enough force that she stumbled and slid down against the wall. Her legs gave up beneath her and she collapsed to the floor, clutching her throat, coughing and crying, gasping as the air returned to her lungs.

She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, completely shaken, her heart pounding so loud it hurt.

He didn't even blink. His breathing was heavy and uncontrolled. Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed the glass vase from the table and slammed it on the floor with full force. The sound of it shattering echoed through making her more flinch.

"Other men?" he repeated under his breath, pacing back and forth like a storm about to explode. His hands were shaking now with anger, with disbelief.

He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him so hard the walls seemed to shake. Inside, the rage continued—the sound of drawers being thrown open, objects crashing to the floor, something else smashing into the wall.

He was losing it –completely unraveling, consumed by the one thought he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried.

She said she could get other men. Better than him.

And that single thought? It tore through him like fire.

Meanwhile she sat there on the cold floor, her back against the wall, her body still shaking from the way he had held her, from the weight of his words and the look in his eyes that didn't feel like human anymore—it felt like something terrifying she couldn't name.

Tears kept falling endlessly as her hand trembled while touching her throat, still feeling the pressure of his grip. Her breath came out in short gasps, her vision blurred, her heart raced, and the silence in the room only made it worse.

She didn't know how long she sat there like that.

But at some point, the weight inside her became unbearable.

She had to get out. She needed to escape before she completely lost herself in this madness.

She needed to leave.

There was nothing left anymore. Nothing left to understand, nothing left to hope for. She had already seen everything with her own eyes.

With trembling legs, she slowly pushed herself up from the floor, swaying slightly when the room spun around her for a moment. She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, but they wouldn't stop falling.

Her body hurt everywhere. Her throat burned, her head ached, and her chest felt so painfully tight she could barely breathe properly.

Still wearing the same formal clothes from earlier, she shakily slipped her feet into her shoes. She didn't even know where her purse or phone had fallen after everything that happened. Maybe somewhere on the floor.

But she didn't care anymore.

Jungkook had crossed every line tonight-every limit, every boundary of basic decency.

And now, she didn't even recognize the man he had become.

Everything was over.

Without allowing herself another second to think, she rushed toward the front door. Her hands trembled violently as she unlocked it and pulled it open.

The guards standing outside immediately turned in surprise at the sudden movement.

"Ma'am—wait! You can't leave. Mr. Jeon said not to-"

But she didn't stop.

She didn't care anymore.

Using whatever strength she still had left in her exhausted body, she shoved past them and ran.

Ran like she was trying to escape a nightmare.

Because this house no longer felt like home.

It felt like hell.

†

She ran like she was being chased by her own thoughts, her own pain.

She didn't care that it was already late at night. She didn't care that she was still wearing the same dress from earlier, with tears continuously streaming down her cheeks. She didn't care who saw her like this anymore.

People stared at her in confusion and concern, but she kept running–through crowded streets, past shops preparing to close for the night, past strangers, glowing signboards, and moving cars. The cold wind hit her face and tangled her hair, but she didn't stop.

Because right now, running felt like the only thing keeping her alive.

It had already become too dark, too late, and she had been running for far too long.

And finally, after what felt like forever, her feet began to slow down on their own. Her body gave up before her mind did. Her legs trembled weakly beneath her, her lungs burning painfully with every breath.

She stopped in front of a familiar house.

Her blurry eyes lifted toward it slowly, tears stinging her vision all over again.

But even through the haze, she recognized it immediately.

She knew this house.

She knew this door.

Home.

A painful sob almost escaped her chest at the realization. Never in her worst nightmares had she imagined herself standing here like this after marriage—crying late at night, running away from her husband's house just to return to her father, broken beyond words.

But life had a cruel way of surprising people, didn't it?

A few seconds later, the front door opened.

Her father looked up casually at first, probably expecting a neighbor or someone familiar. But the moment his eyes landed on her, he froze completely.

For several seconds, he couldn't move. Couldn't even speak.

He only stared at the heartbreaking sight in front of him.

Her face was covered in tears, her hair disheveled from the wind, her body trembling uncontrollably. She looked completely shattered.

"Evie...?" he whispered in disbelief, like her standing there at this hour didn't even make sense to him.

At first, she couldn't answer. Her lips parted slightly as more tears rolled down her face. Her eyes were filled with unbearable pain.

And then, in the softest, most broken voice—

"Dad..."

That was all it took.

The moment the word left her lips, all the strength holding her together finally collapsed.

Her knees gave out beneath her as she stumbled forward straight into his arms, clinging to him desperately like she would completely fall apart if she let go.

Her entire body shook violently with sobs as she buried her face into his chest, holding onto him like he was the only safe place left in the world.

And maybe he was.

Her father caught her immediately, panic and confusion flooding his face as his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Evie—Evie, hey... what happened?" he asked frantically. "How are you here? What's going on?"

His voice was full of fear and concern as he looked down at her trembling form, but she only cried harder, unable to speak properly.

"Evie, talk to me," he said again, softer this time, his hand gently stroking her back despite his growing panic. "What happened? You're scaring me."

And honestly, anyone would panic seeing their daughter standing outside their door late at night looking like this–crying alone, trembling, her clothes messy, her entire appearance shattered.

It was something no father could ever process calmly.

"Are you okay, Evie?" he asked again, his voice breaking with worry. "Please tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

But she only held onto him tighter, like she was terrified he would disappear too.

Between broken sobs, she repeated the same words over and over again, barely able to breathe properly through her crying.

"Dad... Dad... I'm not okay..." she cried painfully. "Nothing is fine... your daughter is not fine..."

Her father tightened his arms around her instantly, fear settling heavily inside his chest as he felt her tears soak through his shirt.

And at that moment, he understood one thing clearly–

Whatever had happened to his daughter tonight had broken her deeply.

★ ★ ★

—𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗏𝗈𝗍𝖾         𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍···୨ৎ