Jungkook

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"Where is she?" I demanded, my grip on Madeline's throat just firm enough to command her attention without inflicting harm. I fought the impulse to tighten my hold, eager to erase the smugness from her expression.

I'd maintained a strict personal rule: never to lay a hand on a woman in anger. The exceptions, made clear in the privacy of consensual encounters, were always mutually agreed upon. But now, my control wavered precariously.

The anger had ignited upon viewing the video—undeniably capturing Madeline's act of pushing Y/N into the pool at the Hauss mansion, a locale familiar from previous visits. I had sped through the city streets, furious and concerned, ignoring every speed limit. By my arrival, the remnants of the party had dissipated to just a few lingering guests. I found Madeline in high spirits amongst her entourage in the kitchen. A mere piercing look from me was sufficient for her to detach and shadow me into the hallway.

"Why not tighten your grip?" she crooned challengingly. "It's what you want, isn't it?"

"This isn't a game," I retorted through clenched teeth, desperately clinging to my patience. "Tell me what I want to know, or your family's empire crumbles."

"You can't wield that sort of influence."

"Don't be so sure," I countered sharply, devoid of any affection. "You're mistaken if you believe intimacy has given you insight into my capabilities or connections. Now unless you fancy explaining to your father about regulatory scrutiny and plummeting stock values, I'd advise you answer promptly."

Muted defiance flickered across Madeline's face before yielding to my demand. She delivered her admission with clear reluctance: "Her friend rescued her from the pool; they've gone home. How was I supposed to know she couldn't swim?"

The muscle in my jaw flexed as I perceived Madeline's misguided glint of desire in response to our altercation, reinforcing my disgust with her character. "Let's hope she's unharmed," I warned in a hushed but biting tone. "Otherwise, Hauss Industries' demise will be insignificant compared to your troubles." My final words left no room for negotiation: "Stay away from her—and from me."

There lingered only defiance in Madeline's eyes as she squared her shoulders against me.

"Do you understand?" I pressed my thumb against the soft flesh of her neck, not harsh enough to harm but sufficient to elicit a flinch.

"Yes," she managed, her voice dripping with resentment.

"Good." I let go and retreated, forcing my steps to be calm as I was consumed with the urge to dash to Y/N's house and ensure her safety. She hadn't responded to my calls or texts, and despite understanding her reasons, anxiety gnawed at me.

"Is she really worth all this?" Madeline's voice trailed behind me, but I ignored her.

Yes.

Reaching my car, I hit the gas and narrowly missed a cluster of drunken students. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I envisioned how terrified Y/N must have been at the pool—and how she must be feeling now.

Anger and concern twisted in my gut. My earlier words to Madeline became irrelevant; after what she did to her family, destruction was imminent for Hauss Industries.

Arriving at Y/N's place, I saw Stella leaving. Shutting off the engine, I approached with urgent strides.

"How is she?" The urgency was clear in my voice.

Stella looked worried. "Considering what happened, not too bad. I was away when she went into the pool room..." She faltered. "I found her right after that woman pushed her in. She was retrieved before losing consciousness, but she's clearly distressed. Jules hasn't returned, and though Y/N asked for solitude to rest, she's still unsettled." Stella looked concerned. "You should see her—just in case."

Considering Stella rarely sought help from me, it underscored Y/N’s vulnerable condition.

"I'll handle it." I bypassed Stella and headed into the house. Her voice caught me as I left. "How did you find out about tonight so quickly?"

I answered over my shoulder, "Online." Note: Erase every detail of today’s incident from the digital world. Recalling the tech expert who never failed me in five years—deleting videos or retrieving confidential information from rivals—I knew he could ensure there'd be no electronic footprint of this night's events whatsoever.

Bounding up the stairs two at a time, I arrived at Y/N's door and noticed light seeping through a crack—the sign she was awake contrary to her claims of going to sleep.

I knocked softly twice on the door. "It's Jungkook."

A brief silence followed before hearing an invitation to enter.

Y/N sat up in bed with damp hair and eyes displaying caution as they met mine. My concern deepened at the sight of her pallid cheeks and subtle shaking despite being enveloped in a thick blanket with the heat on.

"I witnessed the incident. Someone broadcasted it live on social media." Seated on the bed's edge, I suppressed the overwhelming urge to draw her into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You shouldn't shoulder the blame for the horrendous actions of others."

A faint smile touched my lips as she mirrored my earlier advice.

"However, your choice in partners could use refinement." Y/N wiped away a tear. "Aim higher." "Madeline and I are done. In truth, it never began."

"That contradicts what she implied."

Puzzled by her curt tone, I tilted my head. "Are you... jealous?" The notion was more gratifying than I cared to admit.

"Not at all." Her scowl softened her appearance, making her look like a disgruntled kitten in a fluffy gray sweater. "So what if she's statuesque and fair-haired with runway model looks? She's despicable. At our next encounter, she'll regret it."

Suppressing a full grin, I contemplated Y/N's bluff—her single Krav Maga class was hardly sufficient for any confrontation yet her spirit was endearing.

"She won't trouble you anymore." My expression sobered. "Regarding the incident at the pool—"

"I thought it was over for me."

A shiver of horror passed through me at the possibility.

"I thought I was going to drown due to my inability to swim coupled with this pervasive phobia that I loathe." Clenching the bed covers tightly, Y/N's voice conveyed a deep-seated frustration. "The feeling of utter helplessness and losing control over my own life repels me. Imagine having dreams of worldwide travel—to marvel at the Eiffel Tower, gaze upon Egypt's majestic pyramids, to walk the expanse of China's Great Wall—and being unable to pursue them due to an overwhelming fear of flying above an ocean." Pausing for a breath laced with distress, she continued: "Submerged in that pool, facing what I believed were my final moments, was when it hit me—I haven't experienced any of what I yearn for. Should tomorrow be my end, a myriad of regrets would accompany me; that realization petrified me more than the water itself." She lifted her gaze, eyes brimming with vulnerability. "That's why there's something crucial I need from you."

Taking a deep breath as the gravity of her request sank in, I gently asked, "What do you need from me, Sunshine?"

Determinedly, she met my gaze. "Teach me how to swim."

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