TWISTED LOVE JEON JUNGKOOK X (READER) {Complete}

Jungkook

MY WORLD CRASHED DOWN TWO WEEKS AFTER MY UNCLE'S VISIT.

On my way to work, I received an urgent call from Jin. His silence since being ousted as CEO was telling, and his sudden request for a meeting—expected.

I immediately instructed my assistant to clear my schedule for the remainder of the day and managed to reach Philadelphia in just two hours.

Approaching my uncle's office, I deliberately slowed my pace, well aware of the cameras that were likely tracking me since my arrival at the estate's gates.

Inside, he was seated at his desk, engrossed in his favorite Russian drama.

"Hello, uncle," I greeted, leaning casually against the wall with my hands tucked into my pockets—a facade of nonchalance.

Jin's eye twitched. "So you finally made it, you little shit."

I suppressed a smile. My uncle rarely cursed; he must have been out of his mind with anger. I could see why; he looked horrible. I spotted a bald spot in his hair, as well as scaly red patches and a few nasty-looking pustular eruptions on his skin. His face looked haggard, his complexion wan.

For someone as vain as my uncle, the deterioration of his looks must be a living nightmare.

"I'll always make time to visit my favorite uncle." My only uncle, though not for much longer. "You don't look so well. Stressed over losing your job?" A muscle ticked in his jaw. "You're handing the CEO position back to me."

I almost laughed out loud. "Why would I do that?"

"Because." Jin leaned back and laced his hands over his stomach. "I have something you want, and I have a feeling you'll do anything to get it back including resigning from Jeon Group, reinstating me as CEO, and wiring me fifty million dollars. For the emotional distress," he explained.

His mental facilities must be deteriorating faster than his physical appearance if he thought I would do any of those things.

"Sure you do," I said indulgently. "Let's see what this magical 'something' is first."

"Did I say something'?" Jin's eyes glowed with malice. "I meant 'someone. Bring them in." He barked the last statement in Russian.

There was a scuffle outside the door, and my blood ran cold when a massive man in camo pants and dog tags entered, dragging two bound and gagged girls behind him.

Y/N and Bridget.

They stared at me, their faces etched with fear in every expression.

Summoning all my willpower, I managed to keep my reaction hidden.

"I see," I responded, my voice dripping with ennui. "Apologies, Uncle, but I fail to spot anything—or anyone—compelling enough to even consider parting with a trifling sum, let alone fifty million dollars."

Y/N had a small cut on her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at me with wide, beseeching eyes. Bruises marred her arms—evidence of Camo's harsh grip—and the raw, reddened skin around her wrists betrayed the bite of tightly bound ropes.

Y/N. Hurt.

Wild, all-consuming anger erupted in my stomach until it filled every inch of my being.

I stared at Camo, and he stared back, smugness oozing from his ugly mug.

Not for much longer.