~To Chapter One ~~To Chapter Two ~~~To Chapter Three Genres: Mafia (that's a genre, right?), Romance, Action Warnings: Rated... let's say 15+ for violence, adult themes, and language... and then 42+ for adult scenes. No worries, young internet dwellers; I will provide a trigger warning for any explicit scenes. Please enjoy the new characters introduced!
It was obvious Jackson had heeded your complaints. He spoke more often, about your interests, how you were raised, about the family, etc. It was plain small talk, but the effort he made warmed your heart. You felt bad for all the things you said to him, and even though he mentioned not to worry about it, you still felt guilty. Clearly, he was capable of more than you believed. Perhaps his existence was more tolerable than before. You folded your arms over the window sill of your bedroom, blowing a tendril of hair out of your eyes. It was well over a week into house arrest, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. You were patiently waiting for the sun to dip behind the horizon, because Jackson had planned to take you out for the night again. And when the orange ball was no more than a canvas of purple and pink streaks, you swiveled and crossed the floor with a bounce in your step, a knowing smile on your face as you met his eyes. “It’s time.” He didn’t say anything, but you caught the small upturn of his lip when he checked his watch and nodded. You watched the rain patter against the car window, the slight drizzle and chill causing bumps to rise on your arms. Jackson remained wordless, but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, because you knew if you were to say anything, he would respond. You hummed a nameless tune until you pulled up to the familiar building. Its warm orange lights seeped out into the darkness, like a welcoming summon. Jackson pulled the keys from the ignition, glancing at you briefly before turning around in his seat to retrieve an umbrella from the back. You looked out your window again, an eyebrow raised. “We don’t need that.” You saw him falter in his movement, his face unreadable, and he dropped it suddenly. “I was hoping you’d say that,” You smiled his way, and then, with haste, opened the door and bounded towards the entrance, raindrops dancing along your exposed skin and hair. Jackson was quick behind you—he didn’t like when you were off by yourself—and you held the door open for him, your eyes catching a glimpse of another car pulling in the lot in the distance. “Look who’s back already!” “Oh. And wet.” Jackson released a heavy sigh. “Stay here and I’ll grab you guys some towels.” You smiled wryly, Yugyeom ignoring Jackson’s protests as he disappeared into the back. Mark was cleaning out some parfait glasses on the counter, and your eyes traced over the cherry-filled dessert he must have been working on before you entered. It looked unrealistically delicious. He caught your glance and paused, a cheeky smile working its way onto his lips as you sat down on the bar stool. Jackson joined you, curious of the wordless exchange, and observed as Mark turned and swiftly carried the whipped treat before you. “Wait, there’s no need—” “Please, try it. On the house.” It took a few more moments for him to finally convince you to take a bite, and it did far more than meet your expectations, Yugyeom returning as you released an audible gasp after a mere spoonful. There’s no way you couldn’t finish it. You had to, elsewise you would regret not doing so later on. Jackson ordered his usual with unenthusiastic charm, peering your way from time to time as he made small talk with the guys. He must have received the towels from Yugyeom, as he placed one around your shoulders, but you didn’t notice right away. The creamy dessert was little more than a puddle of whipped cream at the bottom of the glass in just minutes, and you joyfully cleaned your spoon, eyes closed in a euphoric haze. Then, you felt gentle pressure at the corner of your lips, and you, startled, flinched in your seat. Mark’s finger was still there when you opened your eyes. He had a small, possibly mischievous grin, his eyes slanted as the pad of his index swiped away a miniscule amount of whipped cream. Jackson ended up smacking his hand away, and you were flushed by the time Mark and Yugyeom were laughing, trying to ignore that he brought his finger to his own lips when he turned his back to you. Jackson was uttering obscenities under his breath, and you were too dazed to tune in. Instead, you cleared your throat, leaning back in the high stool to stretch. But then, of all times it could possibly occur, you were wincing, and you hunched forward. “Damn it... not now...” Your abdomen went through bursts of searing pain, some of which would have actually passed a lot more tolerably had you been lying down. You sincerely didn’t want to cause a scene, a ruckus, so you quietly excused yourself to the restroom, not meeting Jackson’s eye since he was turned away from you in the first place. It took a few minutes, the sharp, merciless peak of it slowly passing, and you stood from your crouched position in the quaint room, a heavy exhale leaving your lips. When you opened the door, you weren’t alone in the hall; Agent Wang had been supporting himself against a wall, and you wondered how long he’d been waiting—as if there was anything better for him to do. He brought up his hand, a small plastic bag of ice dangling from his fingertips. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” “Ever the keen eye sight, Agent.” He didn’t say anything more, approaching you. You wondered what he planned on doing, and when he gestured for you to go back through the door, you were more than curious. The enclosed space may have been awkward for anyone else—lucky for you, you two spent enough alone time together it was almost questioning. Just a bodyguard and his living, breathing job. “Take off your jacket,” You quirked a lip, obeying, though your mind was going places, and where it traveled made you want to laugh. How ridiculous and unlikely. When your jacket was piled onto the floor, Jackson pried some paper towels from a dispenser, wrapping the ice pack presumably retained by the pastry chefs. “I never thought to ice it.” “It probably won’t do anything.” “It’s the thought that counts,” You smiled softly and he turned towards you. He offered the pack and watched you lift your shirt until it exposed the scarred area, his hard eyes set on the flesh. You thought of what could have been going on in his mind, eventually shrugging. “Probably not much, anyway.” As the ice did whatever justice it would provide, a subtle hiss sounding from your lips, the chill instantly cooled the area like it had been burned just beforehand. It was held there for a bit, then you turned around to retrieve your discarded jacket, the back neckline of your shirt dipping as you stood. “That’s your Tag?” He was referring to the black ink painted along the narrow part of your spine, draped abstractedly like a curved curtain between shoulder blades. You nodded. “You ever see a L/N Tag?” He shook his head when you looked back. You didn’t blame him. While other Families wore theirs exposed for the most part, yours was known for being a bit more discrete. All the more professional, you’d say. You brought the tag of the loosely clinging shirt further down with your free hand. You didn’t care to explain it; of course the hard noir of the compass and snake and various small star components all had deep meaning, dating back to the Family’s establishment way back when. But you didn’t feel like mentioning all that. It was getting easier to stray from Family talk with him, and you weren’t in the mood to give a history lesson anyway. “When did you get it?” He settled on asking, earning a small hmph from you after you readjusted the shirt. “I was five.” He didn’t respond. The blond left a few minutes before you dumped the bag of water into the sink, and you joined him back at the counter, just in time for him to announce your departure. Saying goodbye to Mark and Yugyeom was harder than you expected, you had a slight feeling it’d be a while before you saw them again, and you hid your face as they made not-so-subtle comments on how long the two of you had been gone. The rain was only a mist when you exited, a slight feeling of dismay washing over you like a blanket of fog. Jackson nodded for you to get in, starting up the vehicle as though he was concerned you wouldn’t make it in time, despite having just under an hour left until you were due back to the mansion. Streetlights illuminated the empty streets, dim glows against the dark of the night. You recounted all the conversations you’d had with your bodyguard in the past week and a half, something you found yourself doing in the freest of free time you had, and it suddenly occurred to you how little he spoke of his own interests, life, and family. You wanted to question it. You did, truly. To hell with overstepping boundaries, you did that on a daily. But your eyes met the side mirror and your mouth snapped shut. “Wang, we’re being followed.” “I know.” “Why didn’t you say anything?” “I thought it would be best to avoid the confrontation I know you’re hoping on.” Damn. He figured you out. That thrill seeker within you never failed to seek. “Then try to lose them if you’re too much of a puss.” Your taunt only earned a vein to pop in his neck. His eyes flickered between the road ahead and the rear view mirror. Could have been Mins. Could have been anyone. “How’d you know?” He asked, and you bit your lip, eyeing the black cruiser that was a few car-lengths on your trail. “They have been tailing us the last three miles. Pulled in after us at the café. How about you?” “Same thing. It was a given when no one walked in. No one just parks at that place and doesn’t go in.” You wanted to laugh, but you also felt it necessary to worry a tiny bit. Maybe that car wasn’t alone. Perhaps if they were smart enough, they wanted you to know they were there, so you’d think you were going to lose them but end up right where they wanted you. Definitely a Min kind of thing, if it was them. “Hang on.” You had hardly any time to, since you were lurching to the right at the sudden turn. Jackson sped up, the rev of the engine echoing in the night. The vehicle spun around and crossed into the other lane, soaring past the mysterious cruiser so fast, you only caught a glimpse of two shadows beyond the tinted windows. Jackson took another turn, into a series of connected alleyways, easing through the maze like he studied the damn city map. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and soon enough, you caught on. “Nice one, Wang.” He didn’t respond, but instead, took another sharp turn, luring the other vehicle into its own demise. The roles reversed, and you could almost see the sweating of the passengers within the other car, placed creatively, facing head to head in a narrow alleyway. They were cornered, the opening where they entered requiring at least a three point maneuver to turn back out of. And that would cause for a lengthy escape. Jackson then warned you to stay in the car. He drew his glock from the back of his pants, kicking the door open and using it as a shield as he aimed. “Exit the car, unarmed, hands in the air.” The demand was calm, as expected, but booming. You watched on with generous anticipation as the occupants of the other vehicle remained motionless for several moments. Then, with a burst of impatience, you reached over and fired up the fog lights, a tactic that only brightened up the brick building walls and further intimidated the other driver and passenger. Finally, both doors opened, slowly, carefully, and you figured there was no way they were Mins. Or any Members of any Family, really. The two men were tall and obviously bearing sturdy statures. But they also looked young; not young as in just a teenager, but around your age, one possibly just a few years older than the other. Of course, it was hard to determine from the distance. “What the fuck?” Jackson breathed out, suddenly, his gun lowering as he stared on in disbelief. You identified his response to be recognition, and your eyes went back to the two who approached the BMW with hesitation. You were right about your earlier analysis; one was definitely older than the other, both donning similar black jackets. You spotted the same logo Director Park had attached to his suit when he dropped by, pinned to the hearts of their jackets, and it only made you more confused. The blonde agent went around the door, concealing his weapon again, and met them halfway; so they were safe enough to waltz on up to, huh? “What the hell are you guys doing here? Why were you following us?” One of them began talking, and you strained to hear. Fuck it; you quietly opened the door, inching out and towards the trio. “...Was all Jimin wanted us to do. Sorry man, it wasn’t up to us.” You watched Jackson heave an exasperated sigh of what could have been disbelief. Or anger. His jaw moved back like he was biting his tongue, his fists clenched at his sides. Definitely anger. When he shifted on his feet, the taller one looked past him and met your eyes directly. He looked shocked, his lips parting as he nearly took a step back, hand going for his hip. “Jin, chill out.” Jackson warned, like his anger was put to the side as soon as the guy made a move for his holstered gun. Jin halted, eyes darting between yours and the bodyguard’s, and you took your que to stride up to the party, barely set off by the fact he almost pulled a gun on you. Was your presence that threatening? “Who are they?” You asked, eyeing the younger one. His lips had a natural pout to them, and while his eyes were dark and glossy, you could tell he probably wasn’t as big a man as his partner. Jackson glanced your way briefly, you could see the vein popping in his temple, and he stepped one foot in front of you for precaution. “Jin. Jungkook. They’re part of the agency.” The way he said it seemed spiteful, and you raised a brow, silently pegging him to go on. He sighed, digging a hand into his jacket pocket, and said, “Jimin sent them undercover to follow us.” Your mind reeled in questions and you looked to the two before you. They were put off by you, clearly, their guard was up, but you could tell they were definitely not ranked as high as Wang. You looked back to the blonde. “Why would Jimin order them to do that?” Jackson suddenly turned sharply on his heel, nudging you along with him, his teeth gritting together behind closed lips. “We’re about to find out.” ~~~ Y/N followed Jackson into the seemingly desolate warehouse, which ended up being the headquarters of the agency, of course. The girl observed her surroundings mutely, wanting to ask questions, but Wang looked as though he wasn’t quite in the mood for answering. She saw beyond his calm façade, the very march in his stride a giveaway since it had been easier to track his emotions, anger being an exclamation point. While she was following him, the two men who were sent undercover trailed her. Y/N knew she’d probably have much to do to gain their trust, however, that was nowhere near priority at the moment. When they neared the end of a corridor, Jackson brought one hand out, gesturing for her to stop. “Jin, Jungkook, take her into a closed office. Y/N, stay with them. This will only be a few minutes.” “They don’t trust me. How can I trust them?” He sent her a mild glare, to which she held her hands up defensively and nodded once. “Right. I understand. See you around.” He eyed her as she turned and gestured for the other two to lead the way, to which they looked at each other in momentary panic, and then sighed simultaneously. Then, Jackson stared down the familiar door, his eyes displaying little of the fury he actually felt. He didn’t bother knocking, and brought himself in. “What the hell, Park?” “Why, yes, please do come in, Agent Wang.” Jimin was lounged back into the cushion of his desk chair, eyes not even glancing away from the newspaper in hand. Jackson let the door slam behind him, the rattling of the windows and frame not even startling the shorter man. “You know why I’m here.” “And if I do?” “Cut the bullshit, Jimin, why did you send UCs after me?” He seethed darkly, fingers coming down to clench around the edge of the solid wooden desk. His face lowered and he glared sharply through his eyebrows. But all the director did, donned in an immaculately pristine navy suit, was sit even further back, and flip a page of his newspaper. Jackson waited, moments, and prepared to ask him again, though the black-haired man finally said, “They weren’t following you.” He scanned the page, then closed the bundle of articles entirely, tossing it onto his desk. His fingers came together and he leaned forward, meeting the confused gaze of the Agent, elbows supporting him. “I had them after her.” “Why?” “Just as precaution.” Jackson’s mind searched, clueless. It didn’t make sense. He was her bodyguard, it was his job to keep her safe. Words fumbled around in his mouth, because there was so much he suddenly wanted to ask, but Jimin rose from his chair, moving around the desk and standing before the taller man. His black rimmed glasses proudly sat at the bridge of his nose, and he smiled up at the agent, saying, “There’s more to her than you are aware, Wang. There’s more to her than even she is aware. That girl is more valuable than any business deal her Family makes.” He looked down to fiddle with a small sculpture on his desk, then, he stilled, something dangerous lurking behind his grin. “Her very existence can start a war.” ~~~ “Are you guys Jimin’s underlings or something?” You saw the older one’s throat bob, but he continued looking past you. You sighed, deathly bored. Deathly bored of them being afraid of you. You crossed your legs, the younger of the two itching to reach for his holstered weapon at the slightest movement, and you closed your eyes. Enough was enough. “I’m not going to hurt you!” You emphasized with extended arms. They seemed to jump at your outburst, Jin leaping to his feet defensively. “Well how the hell are we supposed to know that?!” You rolled your eyes, a dramatic groan leaving your lips. “I’m too lazy and too hungry?? Besides, I have no reason to. My second best friend is your superior.” Best friend, haha. It seemed funny to you, but you went with it. You weren’t quite sure if Jackson and you were on that level yet. “Second best friend? Jackson?” Jungkook questioned, and you nodded. “Then who’s the first?” Junior flashed in your mind briefly, but you shook your head. “Never mind that. But seriously, you’re making me feel like an alien. I’m not going to do anything, so will you two please just chill out?” You inwardly cheered in victory when they noticeably relaxed, Jin sitting back in his chair. “Sorry about that.” You froze, because you hadn’t been expecting an apology, but you nodded in reassurance. “That’s alright. I come from a well-known mob family. It enlightens me you know what I am capable of.” You heard one of them snort, and glanced towards Jin, who had finally revealed a small smile. ‘Whoa...’ You thought. ‘He’s kind of cute’. You pushed aside your thoughts and asked what their jobs were in the agency. “We’re actually just undercover cops.” “Just?” You rose a brow. Jin nodded and laced his fingers in his lap. “You’re right about us being Jimin’s underlings. We do what he asks. Follow who he says to.” Jungkook then added, his pouting lips prominent, “We’d be normal undercover policemen if Jimin hadn’t recruited us from our precinct. But that doesn’t make us any special. We’re like the lowest of low here.” You felt fleeting sympathy within you and you tucked your chin into your palms, elbows on your knees in the seat. They must have felt even more like shit when you and Jackson trapped them. “Well, that can’t be true.” You said, voice chipper than before, reassuring. “The lowest of the low have to be the janitors.” It took a moment of silence for wide grins to flourish across their features. You shrugged nonchalantly, they laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Jungkook giggled. They were more handsome when they weren’t displaying obvious fear of a young girl in the mafia. When the room calmed down again, you were more comfortable, as they probably were too. But your eye caught the clock glaring at you from a wall, and you bolted up from your seat, cursing. You only had just under thirty minutes to make it back to the mansion before your father arrived. Instinct was to run out of there and hunt down your bodyguard, and when you reached the door at breakneck speed, a hand gripped your wrist. “Where are you going?” Jin questioned firmly, like warning signals were going off in his head. “I have to get back to the mansion. I need to find Jackson.” You went for the door handle again, but he pulled you back. “Y/N, please,” Jungkook’s voice was filled with concern. He was on the other side of you, hands up just in case he needed to step in. “If anyone else from the agency sees you, there will be uproar. We can’t have a Mob Boss’ daughter on the loose. They will recognize you.” You gave him a puzzled look. “We have tabs on all lineage of every known Family, but no one else knows we’re involved with yours.” He had placed a hand on your shoulder, gently. But all you could think about was what your father would do if he caught you going out. ‘Would he send Jackson away for being responsible for it?’ Jin tugged lightly, but you resisted. “We’re trying to prevent there from being any mistakes.” Jackson’s face flashed before your eyes, and you suddenly had Jin pinned against the wall beside the door, your eyes ablaze. “The only mistake was you following us.” Despite the height difference, the adrenaline pumping through your blood gave you superior strength. Jin appeared stunned. Jungkook was shocked and motionless, and you let go of the eldest, throwing the door open and racing out into the hall. Whatever overcame you blinded you of your surroundings. You retraced the steps to the best of your ability, but you wound up lost, and in the middle of a bustling, busy office space. And it only took a few seconds for all eyes to be on you. And for a single pistol round to be fired. ~~~ Jackson jumped at the familiar noise, echoing down the halls, and Jimin’s head shot towards the door. “Shit.” He mumbled, moving to open the blinds of the window exposing the hall. “You brought her here?!” Jackson didn’t reply. He was already charging out of the door and down the hall opening up to the cubicle area. Every person was stood, faces trained towards an empty spot in the air. They were all professional killers, all armed, all dangerous when needed be. And they were all waiting. He felt his heart stop. Jin and Jungkook appeared around a corner, gasping at the sight before them. They called out “Don’t shoot’s” and “Stand down’s”, racing to a crumpled body on the ground. Jackson shoved people out of the way, jaw clenched in a blend of anger and disbelief when he saw the girl he’d hired to protect motionless, palms covering her face. “Out of the way!” He yelled, moving through the rest of them and in between where Jungkook and Jin were trying to get her to respond. He didn’t see any blood, but that didn’t stop his panic. “Y/N! Can you hear me?” He tried peeling her palms away from her face, but then, there was laughter. Not just any laughter. Hers. “Oh, just in time, Wang.” She removed her hands and smiled brightly up at him, her eyes shining like she’d experienced the world’s most thrilling roller coaster. He released a sigh of relief, then scanned her body for any damage, to which she turned out of his grasp and twisted away from him. “I’m fine. Whoever did it was a shit shot. Missed me entirely.” She called out over him, and he brought her to her feet. The blonde stood protectively in front of her, searching the faces of anyone who had drawn their gun and fired at her, his patience boiling in silent fury. “Jesus Christ you scared us.” Jin placed a hand over his chest and he and Jungkook surrounded her, cautiously eyeing the rest of the office as everyone watched on in shared confusion. Jimin paced through them all casually, drawing their attention. “Wang. Take her home. We will discuss what need be discussed at another time.” Jackson nodded, his bodyguard instinct kicking in immediately. He grabbed Y/N by the hand and pulled her away from the large room, leaving Jin and Jungkook behind. They disappeared from earshot as Jimin began. “Everyone—I believe the time has come to share some very important details...” ~~~ The two of you made it to the mansion in time, just minutes to spare before you watched Junior escort your father through the front doors. He glanced at you like he knew something was up, your father not even batting an eye your way, but he left it at that, and you released a heavy sigh. You stood from where you were sat on the grand staircase, wincing slightly, and carried yourself tiredly up the stairs, Jackson at your side with his arms folded behind his back. “I’m going to go shower.” There was a slight slur in your words, but you hid it by clearing your throat. No need to behave like a drunkard, despite your vision growing foggy. Man, were you tired. Jackson nodded, once, and presumed position outside your door as he did when night came around. You walked into your room, stumbling somewhat over a rug, and didn’t bother to strip as you dazily located your bathroom, flinging the door open. The shower dial was turned without ease, and you released a near-silent whine, the water taking its merry time to heat up. Then, you removed only a single article of clothing; your jacket. It had concealed where a spot of blood had consumed the entire side of your loosely-clinging T-shirt. You were happily surprised you had it hidden so well, and that the liquid had only spread to the inside of the jacket. Of course, there wasn’t even that much blood anyway; a flesh wound hardly amounted to much when it was just a simple graze of the bullet. Though, it still hurt like hell. You thought you were going to pass out from exhaustion. Perhaps you weren’t eating well enough? There was no way that could be a result from the minor blood loss. Anyway, you shrugged it off, hopping into the shower, still donning your clothes. Clothes were replaceable anyway. It took a few moments for you to slide down the tiled wall, leaning against it as hot water streamed down your woundless-side. As you sat there, eyes growing heavy, you stared blankly through the doorway to the stand-in shower, and the doorway to the bathroom itself as well, both of which were entirely open at the expense of your laziness. “Ugh.” You knew you had to get out eventually, and clean your wound. But it was just so comfortable sitting there. You were so out of it, you failed to realize Special Officer Jackson Wang was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, eyes widened. “Y/N—” He stopped, watching the tiny stream of maroon trickle down into the drain, opposite side of where the shower was aimed. “Huh? Oh hey Wang.” You finally realized he was there. “How’s it been? How long have I been in here?” He moved towards you quickly, carelessly stepping into the shower himself. He tried pulling you up, but you resisted, releasing a cry. “Just let me stay for a bit.” The pain in your side had subdued to a numb sensation when you were still, and you were better off like that. “Dammit, Y/N. You can’t always go around pretending. You were fucking shot.” He blocked the water from hitting you, his clothing growing soaked by the second. You groaned out. “It’s just a graze. Happens all the time, don’t worry about it.” He still didn’t have any of it. “You’ve been in here for two hours, why the hell shouldn’t I be worried?” He shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it out of the shower space. Then he shifted down, onto his knees, and maneuvered you carefully. You still hissed at some points, mind too hazy to piece together what he was actually doing, and then you were settled between his legs, back pressed against his sculpted chest. The both of you were drenched, and you let it briefly cross your mind the T-shirt you wore would have done little to hide anything. But the man didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he carefully exposed the violated area on your left hip, and you saw what it looked like for the first time as well. “See? Just a grazeeeee.” He cursed and dropped the material, a hand cupping over the affected skin like a protective dome against the water. “I’ll let you stay a few more minutes in here, but that’s it. You’re lucky the bleeding stopped.” He was right, all that was left was the blood residue hanging around. And that’d be a bitch to clean off. “How did you even cover this?” He questioned, chest rumbling against you. You bit back a moan at the sensation, puzzled by how great he felt, and leaned your head back against his shoulder. “My jacket. I had it around my waist when the gun was fired. I used angles to hide the blood spot until I was able to put it on completely.” He sighed into your ear, which tickled, and you both watched as the bloodied material finally caught under a small stream, a red river dipping into the drain. “You’re too clever.” He said, and you could only chuckle before you fell asleep, and Jackson was left holding you and pondering what more of you there was to know. ~~~ “Hey V, is Zelo bringing the mollies for this one or am I doin’ it again?” Namjoon expertly let a butterfly knife dance along his fingertips, kicking his feet up onto a desk. Taehyung peered around the door of the armory. “All you man. Zelo wants to try just using his zipcord. That dummy’s gonna die.” Namjoon smiled with malice, aiming the blade towards his friend, who in turn, stuck his tongue out. “Fine by me, I guess.” He stated, a finger pressing against the sharp edge until a prick of blood was drawn. “Are we ready to go then?” Taehyung walked out, brandishing two polished Uzis, a box smile between his cheeks. “Ready if you are. We’re in charge of this thing.” Namjoon let out a whistle, standing and sucking the ball of liquid from his index. “Well, then.” He turned around, slipping the knife into his sleeve. “Let’s go burn the L/Ns to the ground."