Damned Royalty

Chapter 19

You nearly broke your ankles as you rushed up the stairs of the Park's estate in your heels. The place looked much different than it did the night of Jimin's party. This time, instead of crawling with party goers, it was quiet and eerie save for the few security guards you noticed on occasion. When you got to the door, you were greeted by a face you recognized. It was the man – Jimin's man – the burly one you saw in the penthouse the first night you stayed over. Despite not having ever formally met him, it brought you a modicum of relief to see a familiar face.

He led you through the house, through a wing you hadn't seen last time, until he ushered you into a large office where you found Stanford, his wife and a tall, lean man in a black suit.

"Ms. Y/N," Stanford greeted you when you walked in.

"Oh, please, sir. No need to call me Ms."

"Of course. Take a seat," he smiled and gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you so much for calling me," you tried to at least maintain pleasantries even though your insides wanted to scream.

"Of course – you deserve to know what is happening."

"What is happening?"

Stanford looked to the man in the suit. He must've been his head of security or something. The man began to speak.

"Jimin went for a walk the other night. He decided not to take security with him and that's when he was picked up."

"Picked up by who?"

"From what witnesses have told us, it was the cartel."

"What are they going to do to him," the panic rose in your voice.

Stanford spoke. "We assume this has something to do with certain... activities we've had with the cartel."

"The selling off of your assets?" you interjected.

"I see Jimin has told you then," Stanford looked curiously at you.

"He's told me some," your cheeks flushed, afraid you had perhaps ousted Jimin to his father – but that wasn't what was important right now."

"We assume they want to hold him ransom, or at least make some sort of power claim by having him... but we haven't heard a thing yet."

"Well... how long has it been?"

"Four days," the man in the suit informed you.

"Four days?!" you nearly shrieked. You opened your mouth to yell at the room – to demand why you hadn't been called sooner, but you closed it again, realizing it would do no help to blame them.

But you felt an overwhelming sense of regret. A regret for having ghosted him all this time; a regret for the fight you had. That's when you realized... four days ago was when you last saw him. It was the last time you spoke. It was the night of the fight. It was the night that he was taken.

"Don't leave me."

Jimin had asked you not to go, but you did. That must've been why he went out by himself that night – after you did leave him.

"Shit," you buried your face in your hands. "This is all my fault."

"How so?" asked Stanford.

"I was with him that night. We had a fight. A bad one. We were both upset, and I left. He must've wanted to clear his head."

"That's not your fault, Y/N. He knew better than to go places without a security detail."

His words were meant to sooth you, and in many ways they did – but they still didn't bring Jimin back... and now all you could think about was if your fight was the last thing that would ever happen between you two. It couldn't be. You needed to get him back.