The Seven{BTSxReader}

C. 1.

The First of The Seven: Park Jimin

"I already told you no."

Jimin's deep, gruff voice echoed throughout his spacious office, his brows furrowed together in annoyance as he shuffled through the numerous papers and files on his desk, his professionally tailored suit hugging his muscles perfectly and his M1911 pistol resting comfortably in it's holster on his hip.

"But sir," His employee pleaded softly, swallowing hard as Jimin's cold gaze met his. "The-The client refuses to meet anywhere else....He said that if you don't show-show up..You'll lose his business."

Park Jimin raised an eyebrow at that.

Lose his business? It was almost laughable.

As if he needed his "business" anyway. He only needed men, nothing more.

After everything that had gone down with The Jeon Gang, he realized exactly how ill-prepared he would be if the Jeon brat ever got the balls to try and raid him.

Sure, Jimin was smart. He had money, power and guns. Lots and lots of guns...But there was one the Jeon had that he didn't...Manpower.

Jimin had employees, and yes they were all trained in combat, but they were only there to serve as bodyguards for himself...He needed men that could protect the empire he had built from the ground up...If Jeon thought that he could just threaten everything Park Jimin had...he was dead wrong.

Lately, Jimin had been contacting the leaders of some small gangs around the city, hiring them and their men as muscle for his own benefit.

But it seemed like one of the small people thought they were important enough to give Jimin orders...and he did not like that one bit.

You see, if Jimin went..he would be breaking one of the basic rules of this game: Never meet on someone else's terms...It puts them in control.

Jimin refused at first, but the man- Mr. Chang was his name- was absolutely set on having their meeting at "Wings", the city's most famous and prestigious strip club.

The place was locked up tighter than Alcatraz. Every single "employee" that worked their had been a model at some point in their life, but Jimin was convinced that this place paid higher than any modeling agency especially because of the clientele.

It was at least a two year wait to get onto the reservations list and even then you had to make your arrangements months ahead of schedule or else you wouldn't even make it past the door.

Of course, Jimin wasn't at all worried about any of that. He could get in with a mere snap of his fingers.

However,

The place was owned by Jung Hoseok.

Sure, Jimin had enough men to protect him for the night, but he didn't want to go stirring up trouble before he had fully thought out his plan to take down the others.

Even though the black-haired man knew that he may cause up a stink, he couldn't help but seriously consider Mr. Chang's proposal.

If this little man thought he could order Park Jimin around...He had another thing coming.

But sending someone else to kill him wouldn't be nearly as fun as sending a bullet through his head himself. In person.

Jimin clicked his tongue in annoyance, rubbing his face in thought.

If he killed Chang...His men would more than likely run to the next highest bidder...which was Jimin...

So, in short, killing him would cause everything to work out in the young mobster's favor..perhaps he could even enjoy a show or two after his men had finished cleaning up the man's brains off the floor.

Jimin's dark eyes shot up to his shivering employee who flinched as the terrifying man's attention landed on him, his heart fell at the sight of his evil smirk.

"Contact Mr. Chang." Jimin started, placing his hands on his mahogany desk and slowly lowering himself in his seat.

"Wh-What would you like for me to tell him s-sir?"

Jimin smiled, spinning his chair around to stare out of the large glass window that over looked the entire city below him.

"Tell him I'll meet him at midnight."

{Eight hours until you.}

A/n,

This book is a birthday present to myself.

Happy birthday, me.

Yes. This is another mafia book.

No. I don't care if it's cliched.

I do what I want.

-Max