𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒔 {ɴᴀᴍɢɪ ᴀnɢsᴛ} (Under Heavy editing and rewriting:3)

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{REVISED SNEAK PEAK}
Namjoon jolted awake in a cold sweat trying to catch his breath, he clutched his shirt tightly in his hand. His vision shook and blurred, as he controlled his breathing the view of his room slowly began to form. He sighed heavily as he looked to his right. The digital alarm clock sat neatly on his bed side table, 4:10 AM glowed red in the dark.

Namjoon groaned, massaging his temples in an attempt to calm his raging headache but to no avail.

A knock suddenly rang throughout the cold room before slowly opening only a crack, a man began to whisper something about orders and politely placed a case next to the door before dismissing himself.

Namjoon's father was Kim Jung-Il, THE Kim Jung-il, the internationally famous and renowned business owner of the world's largest law firm to date. From the outside, Jung-il was a poor man who built his firm from the ground up, through countless trials and tribulations, through ran and shine. The man who loved his family and son more than the job itself. Until he faced a tragic loss of both his daughter and wife.

Through it all he was bold and determined! He continued to build his empire to where it is today, except it's all a lie, well I suppose not all of it. It's true that Jung-il was poor and that he lost his wife but how he got there was nothing worth commending.

Behind closed doors Jung-il has connections, EVERYWHERE. He has his hand in every pot you name it he's got power. Jung-il killed to be here. To keep competition of his back he had personal hitmen, to keep cash flow, yea he runs a law firm but he also has ties in the trafficking, drug dealings, and smuggling rings. His hands are beyond dirty and he dragged his own son into it all.

It's all a facade, he couldn't give two shits about his sons, or the bitch he re-married too or about any of the fame. For as long as everyone knew he had power, his world kept spinning.

Namjoon sluggishly retrieved the case, popping the locks open.

25 years old
5"8
Korea American
Trained in self defense
Unarmed

A sigh was all the man can manage, instead trudging to his medicine cabinet rummaging around, throwing so pill bottles aside when they weren't what he was looking for.

Quickly he snatched the white bottle of high strength painkillers knocking down a few other bottles as he did. He popped the cap off and tossed 3, more than prescribed , in his mouth swallowing them dry.

He rested his elbows on the bathroom counter massaging his temples, wishing the pills would knock out this raging headache of his.

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Fully dressed now, in all black of course , Namjoon pulled the handle hidden by his bedside table up. The mattress was pulled up and underneath it was an array of weapons, pistols, smg's, knives, pocket knives, and melee weapons. He stared down blankly thinking shortly before picking up an unloaded pistol, sliding it into the gun holster snug on his belt.

The stoic male slipped his black leather gloves on, grabbing a singular magazine of ammo and his phone. He went to grab the door handle but like he had telepathically told it to open, the door handle twisted on its own.

A small "oof" was heard as the unsuspecting person on the other side didn't expect to be met with tension from the other side.

"Ah, Joon I didn't expect you to be up already." The door was wide open now, compared to Namjoon the boy, Kim Jimin, looked tiny and frail. But he was only 5"2, with the cutest fluffy brown hair that barely touched the edges of his shoulders. Jimin looked slightly disappointed at the realization that his Half brother was already awake, his round cheeks puffed out ever so slightly as his innocent eyes wandered Namjoon's dimly lit room.