𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

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𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

He looks at me like I'm his lifeline. I stare back with a faint pulse, letting the situation sink in as my heart rate slowly rises until I'm in panic mode and standing to my feet.

"You died. You can't be alive," I won't deny I'm a little in shock. I never knew the guy, but I heard so much about him that it almost seems like I do know him somehow. "How is this possible?" I can't contain myself anymore.

I step forward, mere inches away from him as I stare into his eyes. "How did you survive the bullets? I thought your heart went to Yoongi?" I ask the two main questions my mind manages to offer.

With a warm smile on his features, he gestures to the seat nearest to me. "Sit, and I'll answer all your questions." He ushers me to the seat, and I take it without hesitation. I lean close to him, on the edge of my seat, while awaiting his response.

"I wore a bulletproof vest," he begins, letting his words sink in with patience.

"I managed to take a good amount of bullets that punctured through my skin. As for Ghost," he pauses to sigh. "I thought he was a friend. He's the one who shot me in the face, damaging my appearance forever. He left the scene thinking he killed me, and as I stated earlier, I wished he had for a long time. Miraculously, the bullet didn't puncture my brain, only shattered the edge of my nose and went out through the bottom of my mouth. I was lucky to be alive."

He moves his head to the ceiling, pointing to the scar underneath his chin that resembles a hole.

"I laid on the ground with nothing but blood in my eyes and the scent of a metallic smell overwhelming what little nose remained on my face. I didn't die, but I could have." He explains.

"The doctors immediately took me to surgery, saved my life, then worried about the multiple repairs that would need to be made to my face to look normal again later on."

"I paid the doctor shush money to inform my family that I died from my injuries, and he did. Yoongi was given a heart from a donor who recently passed. I paid for the surgery, told the doctor to tell whoever asked that it was my heart, had them arrange an agreement with my parents to have a closed-casket funeral, and everything was handled properly after a week. I was dead, yet life kept moving on. I had a lot of money back then from my father, but I never knew where it came from until now."

"Anyway, I've been in the hospital for a very long time, Vee, but I've been keeping up with Ghost and his plans." He admits, laying back in the seat where he relaxes.

"I know if he found out I was alive, he would try to do it again. You know, at first, I didn't know it was Ghost. I thought it was the police, too, but only once I started investigating and discovered certain things that didn't add up, I knew it was him. The answer stared at me the whole time, even before that night—he had been trying multiple times—and I never realized it until he almost killed me."

There's a defeated tone in his voice, pulling out pain and sadness from deep within his soul.

A moment of silence passes by us, welcoming its quietness to the topic at hand. Soon, he kicks it out of our conversation and begins speaking once more.

"I need you, Vee. Ghost is a clever person, and he doesn't see you as a threat. If you get close to him, you could screw up this whole organization and bring him down. He won't once think you could get in his way and ruin his plans, but you can. You can change everything—"