14

As the music swelled, Jungkook pulled Y/n close, his touch a familiar brand against her skin. She met his gaze, her eyes hardening with a cold anger that sent shivers down his spine.

"Aren't you a little too public with your little sinful secret, Mr. Jeon?" she spat, her voice barely a whisper above the music.

Jungkook's jaw clenched. He knew exactly what she was referring to.

"Y/n, please," he began, his voice tight. "This isn't about Catherine. It's…" he hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Oh, it's not about Catherine?" she scoffed, her voice rising slightly. "Then pray tell, what exactly is this about, Mr. Jeon? A public display of keeping your 'secret' close?"

Her use of the word 'secret' stung like a wasp. Jungkook's eyes narrowed, the playfulness he'd used earlier completely vanished.

"There's a lot at stake here," he explained, his voice low and urgent. "This is bigger than both of us. Please, Y/n, try to understand."

"Understand?" she echoed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "What about me? What about the life you so conveniently left behind?"

Jungkook's grip on her hand tightened, his voice tinged with desperation. "Later. We can deal with this later. Right now, just…"

"Later?" she spat, her eyes flashing fire. "Is that all you have to say? Is that how you plan on dealing with our... situation?"

He flinched at the word 'situation'.

"Y/n," he said, his voice a low growl. "Don't make this personal."

"Personal?" she repeated, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "Isn't a little late for that, wouldn't you say? When you conveniently disappeared the moment…"

She trailed off, the accusation hanging heavy in the air.

Her pointed silence, her barbed comments about 'availability' – they were all jabs at his absence from the most crucial part of their connection.

It's a shame that Jungkook hardly had a realisation of any of it.

"Y/n," he pleaded, his voice softening. "I know this is hard to understand, but there are things I can't tell you now. Just trust me, when the time is right…"

"When the time is right?" she countered, her voice laced with disbelief. "And when exactly will that be, Mr. Jeon? After the wedding? After your honeymoon? After your conveniently timed amnesia fades?"

"My life isn't some convenient box you can open and close at your leisure, Mr. Jeon," Y/n spat, her eyes blazing with defiance.

"If you can't handle the consequences of your actions, then maybe you shouldn't have taken them in the first place."

The music reached a crescendo, signaling the end of the dance. The spell of the waltz seemed to break, leaving them both breathless and filled with a simmering tension that crackled between them.

As other couples broke apart and mingled, Y/n yanked her hand free from Jungkook's grip.

Without a backward glance, she pushed her way through the throng of people, her anger a potent shield against the stares and whispers that followed her. Her destination: the solitude of her room in the mansion.

Jungkook watched her go, a knot of frustration tightening in his gut. He knew he needed to follow, to explain, to beg for her understanding. But he was caught. Catherine, her face flushed from the dance, looked up at him expectantly. He forced a smile, the act leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

The night wore on, a tedious parade of speeches, toasts, and forced merriment. With each passing moment, Jungkook's desperation grew.

He needed to get away, to reach Y/n, to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight and the festivities began to wind down, Jungkook finally saw his chance. Catherine, after a few too many champagne flutes, had retired to her room, whispering something about a headache.

Seizing the opportunity, Jungkook excused himself, his movements fueled by a desperate need to see Y/n.

He navigated the silent corridors, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Reaching her room, he took a deep breath and knocked softly. When there was no response, he pressed his ear against the door. Silence.

Ignoring the nagging voice of doubt in his head, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room was dark.

For a moment, the only sound was his own ragged breathing, the silence thick with the memory of intimate moments they had shared in this very space.

"Y/n?" he called out, his voice barely a whisper.

He waited, his senses on high alert.

Stillness.

"I know you're angry. I know you don't understand."

He ran a hand through his hair, the silence a deafening counterpoint to his racing thoughts.

"And I know you're angry that I didn't give you an explanation. But..... I couldn't tell you," he choked out, the guilt, a bitter pill to swallow.

"Jimin… there is a past incident between us, something from four years ago which ties my hands in front of him. He thinks you're a big mouth and an obstacle. He hates the idea of you and I together and it's under his certain ... Conditions that I had to keep you out for so long."

"Leaving you… it wasn't a choice. It was never a choice. It was all about the Phoenix MK-VI."

The name hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the weapon he'd overheard whispers till now.

Now, it was a tangible nightmare, a monstrous creation built by her father and Jimin.

"Russia," he muttered, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. "They have it. The weapon your father and Jimin built. It was supposed to be for Korea's defense, but… but now it's with Russia."

His voice trailed off.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mingling with despair.

"The Phoenix… it's a self-propelled missile platform," he explained, his voice tight.

"Designed for pinpoint accuracy and maximum devastation. Once fired, it can't be stopped. Not until its target is… finished."

Jungkook's voice cracked, the weight of the weapon's capabilities settling on him like a leaden weight. He continued, hoping his words would somehow reach her.

He pictured the map Jimin had shown him, the circled targets a stark reminder of the impending doom. "The US, South Korea, Europe – these are the targets, Y/n. Cities reduced to ash in an instant. The Phoenix… it fires once, but it keeps firing until its target is finished. A whole country, the size of China, could vanish in a blink."

He ran a hand through his hair, the memory of Jimin's frantic warnings flashing before his eyes.

The weapon's power source, a next-generation hyperdrive engine, fueled by a core of unstable Isogen.

Incredibly powerful, but also incredibly volatile.

"But there is a way to stop it. There's a failsafe," he continued, his voice a mere thread. "A mechanism hidden within the core of the Pheonix to destroy it. But activating it… it's a suicide mission. Whoever gets close enough to trigger it…"

Dies.

However, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to say this.

The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air.

He chuckles, the laugh being humourless. He was here, all alone, willing to sacrifice his life.

He really couldn't afford her creating troubles right now.

"So after the Russians stole it from Jenesis Corps', we had to find a way get it back or destroy it before the Russians destroy the world. Robert Silvia was my last hope. He is a close associate to the President and has a big hand in managing defense system. Only he has access so far to the Phoenix."

"Silvia wouldn't budge to give back the Pheonix," he continued, his voice laced with frustration.

"The Phoenix was his bargaining chip. But I… I negotiated. A twisted deal. Catherine's hand in marriage for a delay, a chance to engage Silvia and find a way to stop the Pheonix from being used."

His voice trailed off, the unspoken plea hanging heavy in the air.

Silence.

Taking another deep breath, he reached out and fumbled for the light switch.

A soft click filled the room, and Jungkook blinked as the room flooded with light.

His stomach clenched.

The bed was empty.

Y/n was gone.

The room flooded with harsh illumination, revealing a sight that sent a fresh wave of terror crashing over him.

The room was pristine, the bed neatly made, Y/n's belongings meticulously arranged.

It wasn't the empty bed that chilled him – it was the utter absence of her life. It spoke of a hasty departure, a calculated escape.

"Y/n?" His voice echoed hollowly in the sterile silence. He called out again, his voice rising in a choked plea. There was no answer, only the mocking emptiness staring back at him.

Frantic, he spun around, scanning the space for any clue, any sign of where she might have gone.

It was late, past midnight.

Where could she have possibly disappeared to at this hour?

He retraced his steps towards the doorway, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Just as he was about to step out, his foot caught on something soft.

He stumbled, and a muffled thud resonated through the room. Looking down, he saw a small, leather satchel lying overturned on the floor, its contents spilled out haphazardly.

A jumble of clothes, toiletries, and travel essentials lay scattered like a puzzle with missing pieces.

With a trembling hand, Jungkook began gathering them, a cold dread settling in his gut.

As he reached for a silk scarf, his fingers brushed against something hard. It was a file, the stark black cover emblazoned with a single word: "Phoenix."

A jolt of electricity shot through him.

This must be it.

Bile rose in his throat as he clutched the file, the weight of his deception crushing down on him.

He hurled the file across the room, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence.

It landed with a heavy thud on the dresser, momentarily silencing the frantic thoughts swirling in his head.

But the silence didn't last. From behind the fallen file, a corner of another object caught his eye.

He leaned down, his breath catching in his throat. It was a sonography picture, the image clear and unmistakable.

The caption at the bottom burned into his retinas, a stark contrast to the black and white image:

"Baby Kim, Coming This November."

The sonography picture lay on the floor like an accusation, a stark rebuttal to the justifications he'd built in the darkness.

"No," Jungkook rasped, the word a desperate plea echoing in the sterile silence. "No, this can't be true."

But the image remained, the words mocking him with their cheerful font.

Baby Kim.

Her baby.

Y/n's baby.

A sob ripped through him, a raw, primal sound that tore at the flimsy dam he'd built around his emotions.

Was this it?

Was this why she was so distraught, so distant?

Was the anger that had burned in her eyes fueled not just by betrayal, but by the silent scream of a future ripped away?

His future.

Their future.

He sank to his knees, the sonography picture clutched in a hand that trembled violently. Tears, hot and unexpected, streamed down his face, blurring the image in his hand.

He didn't deserve to see it, didn't deserve the promise it held, the life he'd unknowingly turned his back on.

Every justification he'd whispered in the darkness turned to ash in his mouth.

The Phoenix, the world, they all seemed so distant, trivial compared to the weight pressing down on him.

He'd been so focused on saving the world, he'd forgotten the one small world he'd helped create, the one that now felt like a million miles away.

A chilling numbness began to creep through him, a suffocating sensation that threatened to steal his breath.

This wasn't just fear, not anymore.

It was a profound sense of loss, a hollowness that echoed through his very core.

He felt dead inside, a walking corpse haunted by the ghosts of his own mistakes.

The image of Y/n, strong and defiant, flashed in his mind. But now, he saw the hurt in her eyes, a pain deeper than anger, a sorrow that mirrored his own. 

He'd failed her.

He'd failed their child.

And in that moment, the weight of his failures threatened to crush him whole.

With a choked cry, he slammed his fist against the floor, the pain a pale imitation of the agony tearing him apart.

"Every time… every time she tried to reach out," he choked out, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.

"She was trying to tell me, wasn't she?"

His mind raced back, replaying every accusation, every frustrated outburst.

The pieces clicked into place, forming a horrifying picture. Her accusations of him being distant, unreachable – it wasn't just emotional neglect.

It was the crushing weight of an unspoken truth, a burden she'd carried alone.

"The fights… the arguments…" he whispered, his voice thick with despair. "Was it because of this? Was it always about this?"

Guilt, a venomous serpent, coiled around his heart, squeezing the life out of him. He remembered her tear-stained cheeks, the hurt that flickered in her eyes, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

He'd been so caught up in his own web of lies, he hadn't seen the truth staring him in the face.

The sonography picture slipped from his grasp, fluttering to the floor like a fallen dream.

He sank to his knees, the sterile room blurring into a kaleidoscope of pain and regret.

He'd pushed her away, brick by agonizing brick, building a wall of secrecy that had ultimately shut him out of their future.

With a shaking hand, he reached for his phone, a desperate lifeline in a sea of his own making.

He didn't care about the mission, the Phoenix, or the world anymore. All he wanted was to hear her voice, to explain, to beg for forgiveness.

But as he unlocked his phone, a cold dread washed over him. Her name, usually a beacon of hope on his screen, was met with a stark red notification: "Number Blocked."

The world tilted on its axis.

Blocked.

She'd blocked him.

The pain that ripped through him was a mirror image of the hurt he'd seen in her eyes, a reflection of the isolation he'd forced upon her.

A choked sob escaped his lips.

This was it.

This was the pain he'd inflicted with his silence, his distance.

Guilt, a venomous serpent, coiled around his heart, squeezing the life out of him.

He couldn't stay there, not in that sterile prison of his own making. He stormed out of the room, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He had to find her, had to explain, had to plead. He sprinted through the silent halls, his frantic calls for her echoing unanswered.

He searched every room, every hallway, his desperation growing with each empty space.

But Y/n was nowhere to be found. Just as despair threatened to consume him entirely, he caught a glimpse of a faint orange glow on the balcony.

He flung open the terrace doors, a cold wind whipping at his tear-streaked face.

There, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, stood Y/n, a cigarette dangling from her lips, smoke curling into the night air.

The sight of her, so fragile and alone, sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over him.

He approached her slowly, the chill of the night air a stark contrast to the raging inferno within him. "Y/n," he rasped, his voice raw with a mix of desperation and something else, a dawning realization.

She turned, her gaze as sharp as the shards of ice he felt pricking his eyes. "What do you want, Jungkook?" Her voice held a coldness that sent shivers down his spine.

It was a far cry from the warmth he craved, a stark reminder of the chasm he'd created.

He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. He couldn't be direct, not yet. "Shouldn't you be… inside?" he ventured, the question flimsy at best.

"Why does my well-being matter to you now that you've pushed me away? Isn't that what you wanted, Jungkook?" Her reply was laced with a bitterness that twisted his gut. "You pushed me away, remember?"

His breath hitched. "Pushed you away?" He echoed, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. "Y/n, it's… it's not what you think."

He took a tentative step closer, the sonography picture burning a hole in his pocket.

"Baby Kim?" he ventured, his voice barely a whisper.

A harsh laugh escaped her lips, a hollow sound that scraped against his already frayed nerves. "So, you found the sonography."

Her eyes, usually sparkling with life, were now clouded with a deep-seated pain.

"Why did you hide it?" he pleaded, desperation coloring his voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hide it?" she scoffed.

"When did I even try to hide it, Jungkook? When I told you at the party, the very same night you decided to throw me away like yesterday's trash?" The anger in her voice was a dam breaking, a torrent of emotions long suppressed.

"Don't tell me you didn't know!" she spat, her voice shaking with barely controlled fury.

"Did Jimin not tell you? Or did you conveniently choose to ignore everything that didn't fit your narrative?"

Jungkook's world tilted on its axis. Jimin? Lies? A cold dread washed over him, a sickening realization dawning.

"Jimin… he said… he said you were going to the press," he stammered, the words catching in his throat.

He hadn't known.

He hadn't known about the baby.

Fury ignited in Jungkook's eyes, a flicker of defiance against the tide of despair threatening to drown him.

"He lied," he snarled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "He told me you were going rogue, to the media to expose me, that you were a threat... Threat to my plan under execution."

But the anger quickly dissipated, replaced by a pleading vulnerability. "Y/n, please," he rasped.

"The baby… I never knew. I would never…"

His voice trailed off, the words failing him. How could he explain the tangled web of lies he'd been caught in?

How could he express the regret that gnawed at his insides, a monstrous beast born from his own deception?

Y/n scoffed, a humorless sound that echoed in the stillness of the night. "So convenient, isn't it, Jungkook?" she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Another lie to pin on Jimin. But don't play dumb with me."

She took a long drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing a defiant red in the darkness. "You knew something was wrong, Jungkook. You knew I was hurting, desperate. But all you saw was a threat, a liability."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, a chilling counterpoint to the tremor in her voice. "Destruction, not leaving you… those were my cries for help, you fool. Didn't you think it was strange? Didn't you ever ask why?"

"Y/n, I…" he began, his voice thick with remorse. But she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"So what now, Jungkook?" she challenged, her voice laced with a steely resolve.

"Now you know. Does it change anything? Does it bring back the weeks, I spent feeling alone, abandoned, carrying the child in silence?"

Jungkook stood there, shaken to his core. Y/n's words echoed in the emptiness, a relentless indictment. With a trembling hand, he reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions.

Shame.

Regret.

A desperate need to somehow bridge the chasm he'd created.

Hesitantly, he removed the cigarette from her grasp, the ember glowing accusingly at him before fading into darkness. He cupped her cheek, his touch hesitant, as if fearing rejection.

"I… I was too focused," he confessed, his voice raw. "Too stone-hearted to think rationally."

Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind. He led her towards the edge of the railing, their movements mirroring the turmoil within him. They sat down, a fragile truce in the war he'd waged against their passion.

"What do you want to do, Y/n?" he asked finally, his voice barely a whisper. The question hung heavy, a plea for guidance in the storm of his own making.

She looked out at the city lights, their twinkling brilliance a stark contrast to the darkness within her. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

"It's okay," he offered, the words hollow even to his own ears.

"No, it's not," she countered, a spark of defiance flickering in her eyes. "Everything's haywire. My life, our future… It's all been turned upside down."

She reached for a pack of cigarettes, her hand trembling slightly. But before she could light one, Jungkook's hand shot out, gently removing the pack from her grasp.

"Please, no," he pleaded. "Think of your health and the life inside you."

Y/n's eyes narrowed. "Why?" she challenged, her voice laced with a bitter edge.

"Concerned about your heir now?"

He shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "Because it's not good for your health. And…" he hesitated, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. "if you don't stop smoking, I'll kiss you."

A flicker of surprise crossed her features, quickly replaced by a sardonic smile. "Kiss me?" she scoffed. "As if that would change anything, Jeon Jungkook."

She reached for the pack again, her defiance a mask for the vulnerability flickering in her eyes.

But before she could retrieve it, his hand shot out, capturing hers tightly. He held the pack hostage, his gaze locked on hers.

With a swift movement, he flicked the cigarette she held from her lips, the ember disappearing into the night.

Before she could react, he closed the distance between them, his lips crushing onto hers in a kiss that was both desperate and pleading.

It was a kiss born of regret and a desperate hope for redemption. He poured his heart and soul into it, a silent apology for the pain he'd inflicted. The kiss was rough at first, urgency battling with the need for tenderness.

The fire of his kiss died against a wall of ice. Y/n pushed him away, her touch surprisingly strong. "This changes nothing, Jungkook," she said, her voice a cold whisper.

A flicker of pain crossed his features. "No, Y/n, please," he pleaded, desperation lacing his tone. "I came looking for you, to change things, but-"

"But you only came looking after you found out about the baby," she spat, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "Don't pretend you were worried about me. I was just an incubator, wasn't I? A way to secure your legacy."

"I'm more than a baby machine, Jungkook," Y/n continued, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

"I'm a person. A woman you felt passionate about, or so you said. But your love was conditional, wasn't it? Dependent on me being convenient, on me not getting in your way."

Tears welled up in her eyes, glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. "Look at you," she choked out, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

"Desperate now that you know there's a child involved. But what about before? When I needed you most?"

Shame choked Jungkook's voice. "Y/n," he rasped, the word a desperate plea.

"Before I came to you tonight… I was practically set for suicide in less than four days."

Y/n scoffed, a harsh, disbelieving sound. "Suicide? Don't be ridiculous, Jungkook. You are getting married on the fifth day, to your supposed love."

A flicker of pain crossed his features. "I wasn't pretending, Y/n. The whole reason I'm even in Moscow… it's because of that. I was suicidal."

He hesitated, the name 'Phoenix' a dangerous secret on his tongue.

"That's why I came here, to your room. To talk."

"Talk then, Mr. Jeon.".....A/n : It's gonna go down from here :(

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