It is the story of one of the most perilous but secret Mafia King "Suga" and a deadly government agent, he is cruel but for those who mess with him, he has a very dangerous aura, Hearing his voice, people's souls tremble, People are afraid to even m...
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The night air was thick with tension, the scent of gunpowder lingering as blood pooled on the cold ground. Jimin’s wide eyes fixated on the lifeless body in front of him, his breath coming out in short, panicked gasps.
He wanted to run. He needed to run. But his body wouldn’t move. Fear wrapped around his limbs like chains, keeping him frozen in place.
Then, he felt it.
A gaze.
Dark. Cold. Dangerous.
Slowly, his trembling eyes lifted to the man in black—the one holding the gun, the one who had just taken a life without hesitation. His heart slammed against his ribs as the man took a step toward him.
Jimin whimpered, his legs wobbling. He tried to take a step back, but his body refused to obey. The aura of the man was suffocating, overwhelming.
His breath hitched when the man finally stopped, just a few steps away. The stranger tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Look what we have here,” the man mused, voice low and raspy.
Jimin’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
He was so scared.
The man’s eyes roamed over him, taking in his delicate features—the soft brown hair, the big doe eyes shimmering with unshed tears, the way his red silk shirt hugged his petite frame.
A muscle in the man's jaw ticked as he murmured, “Fucking angelic.”
Before Jimin could react, a strong hand grabbed his wrist from behind and yanked him back. His breath stuttered as he collided against a firm chest.
“Ah—!” Jimin gasped, struggling instinctively, but the grip around his waist tightened.
A warm breath ghosted against his neck, making his body shiver violently.
Then, a whisper.
"Mine."
The single word sent a chill down Jimin’s spine, making him whimper softly. The voice was deep, possessive, laced with a dangerous edge that made his stomach churn.
The man—Suga—slowly turned Jimin around, his hands gripping his waist firmly. Jimin looked up, his heart pounding in terror.
“W-what do you w-want?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Suga’s lips curled up in amusement as he tilted Jimin’s chin up with his index finger.
“Where do you think you were going, doll?” he asked, his tone mockingly soft.
Jimin’s lips trembled, tears threatening to spill. He was scared—so scared. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, trying to keep himself together.
