The Beast’S Beloved
Chapter 1: The Return of the Beast
The chandeliers blazed above like captured stars, scattering golden shards of light across the marble floors of the Jeon estate’s grand ballroom. Diamonds glittered on the wrists of women draped in silk, and sharp-eyed men in tailored suits whispered power into their champagne glasses. It was a night of elegance and menace, a gathering where one wrong glance could sign a death warrant.
The Jeon mafia family was celebrating the return of its eldest son.
His name rippled through the crowd like an unspoken prayer—and a curse. At twenty-eight, the man carried himself with a lethal calm. Dark hair brushed the collar of his fitted black suit, and his gaze—obsidian, unreadable—sliced through the ballroom like a blade. Whispers followed him, about his years in America, about the empire he’d built in silence, about the trail of bodies that seemed to shadow his every step.
And then… his gaze stopped.
The world around Jungkook bled away. The champagne flutes, the music, the laughter—it all dulled into static. Only Taehyung’s presence remained, as sharp as a wound that never healed.
He hadn’t changed. Not in the ways that mattered. His hair, a shade darker than honey, fell over his forehead, his lips parted in a soft, nervous smile as he walked beside another man. His fiancé. Jeon Jaegguk. Jungkook’s younger brother.
Jungkook’s jaw tightened until it ached.
The word echoed in his skull like a gunshot.
Taehyung’s fingers brushed against Jaegguk’s sleeve as they wove through the crowd, polite smiles hiding the strain of formality. He had prepared for this evening—trained himself to be calm, to bury the past in the deepest part of himself. He hadn’t expected him. He hadn’t expected Jungkook to be here, standing like a ghost made flesh, burning holes through him with those black eyes.
Taehyung’s chest constricted. Memories surged—memories of a dorm room drenched in sunlight, of stolen kisses between textbooks, of whispered promises under the cover of night. And the memory of leaving. Of breaking. Of shattering not only Jungkook but himself.
He looked away quickly. He had to. Because if he looked too long, he would break all over again.
But Jungkook didn’t look away.
As the crowd celebrated, as speeches were made and glasses clinked, Jungkook’s eyes never left him. He didn’t care about business alliances or hollow compliments. He didn’t care about the rival bosses gathered here in polished suits. His entire focus narrowed into a single point—Taehyung.
Jaegguk placed a hand on Taehyung’s lower back, guiding him through the sea of guests. Jungkook’s fingers twitched against his glass. A primal rage curled inside him, dark and familiar, whispering to be let out. How dare he touch him? His own broth
The champagne snapped beneath his grip, glass shattering in his palm. Red droplets slipped down his skin, staining the white cuff of his shirt. He didn’t even flinch.
A waiter rushed forward, stammering apologies, but Jungkook’s eyes slid to him like a predator scenting prey.
Jeon Jungkook
Careless,” Jungkook murmured.
The waiter froze. The room’s chatter swallowed the tension, but in the shadows beyond the ballroom, screams muffled quickly. No one asked questions. No one looked too long. Because this was the Jeon family’s world—where elegance danced with death.
Jungkook returned minutes later, expression smooth, cuff clean, glass replaced. But the darkness in his eyes was sharper, alive. A glimpse of the beast he kept chained.
Taehyung felt it—the weight of that stare digging into his skin. His throat tightened as he excused himself from Jaegguk’s side, murmuring something about needing air. He slipped into the hallway, his steps quick, desperate.
His phone buzzed. A single message from Vantan.
Kim Vantan
“Don’t be late. He’s waiting.”
Taehyung’s breath caught. His chest clenched with guilt and fear. He typed back quickly—
Kim Taehyung
I’ll be home soon
and shoved the phone into his pocket. No one could know. Not Jaegguk. And especially not Jungkook.
But as he rounded the corner of the silent corridor, his heart froze.
Jungkook stood there, waiting.
The hallway was dim, lit only by the flicker of chandeliers bleeding in from the ballroom. His silhouette leaned against the wall, arms folded, gaze burning.
Jeon Jungkook
Going somewhere?” His voice was low, velvet lined with ste
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung swallowed hard, forcing his spine straight. “Move, Jungkook.”
But Jungkook didn’t move. Instead, he pushed off the wall, closing the distance with slow, deliberate steps. Each one echoed like a countdown
Jeon Jungkook
Five years,” Jungkook whispered, stopping just a breath away. His scent, dark and intoxicating, wrapped around Taehyung like chains. “Five years, and you still think you can walk past me? Pretend I don’t exist?”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung’s hands clenched. “We’re done. That was the past.”
Jungkook’s smile was wrong. It was too calm. Too empty. His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from Taehyung’s face with terrifying tenderness.
Jeon Jungkook
“Did you really think…” His voice dropped, a whisper sharp as glass. “…you could ever escape me, Taehyung?”
The words curled into Taehyung’s chest like a dagger.
And the hallway seemed to close in.
Chapter 2: Chains of the Past
The hallway was silent, yet the air quivered as if it could sense danger. Taehyung’s back pressed against the cold wall, Jungkook’s frame towering before him. The dim light from the chandelier cut sharp lines across Jungkook’s face, turning his beautiful features terrifying and unrelenting.
Jeon Jungkook
“Five years,” Jungkook whispered, his breath brushing Taehyung’s skin. “Five years, and you thought you could walk back into my world… with him?”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung swallowed hard, keeping his voice steady even though his pulse thundered against his ribs. “I didn’t come here for you, Jungkook. This is Jaegguk’s family. I came to show him respect.”
The words were meant to create distance. They only drew Jungkook closer. His hand slammed against the wall beside Taehyung’s head, making him flinch. Jungkook leaned in, his eyes dark, his lips curving into a smile that was not a smile at all.
Jeon Jungkook
“You owe me respect, Taehyung,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous velvet. “Not him. Never him.”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung forced himself not to look away. “We’re done. You need to accept that.”
Something flickered in Jungkook’s gaze—a maelstrom of rage, hurt, and obsession all tangled into one dangerous storm. For a moment, Taehyung thought he saw it again: the beast caged behind those eyes, rattling its bars, desperate to break free.
But before Jungkook could reply, a new voice cut through the corridor.
Taehyung’s fiancé approached , his steps quick, his brows furrowed. Relief flooded Taehyung’s chest, a feeling he tried to hide. Jungkook, however, only straightened slowly, turning toward his younger brother with the fluid grace of a predator.
Jeon jaegguk
“Hyung,” Jaegguk greeted, his tone polite but cautious. “I didn’t expect you to corner my fiancé on his way out.”
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook’s lips curved. “Corner?” He chuckled, though no humor reached his eyes. “I was simply… catching up with an old friend.”
Jeon jaegguk
Jaegguk’s gaze flickered between them. A silent understanding, a subtle suspicion, passed between the two men. But Jaegguk said nothing. He only reached for Taehyung’s wrist gently. “Come. The car is waiting.”
Taehyung allowed himself to be pulled away, but not before Jungkook leaned close, his whisper a blade against his ear.
Jeon Jungkook
“This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
The gala’s music swelled behind them, a cruel reminder of the world they were trapped in.
Jungkook stood alone now, watching as Jaegguk led Taehyung out of sight. His hand tightened around the stem of his glass, the delicate crystal cracking under his grip. He welcomed the sting. Pain was familiar. Pain was fuel.
Jeon Jungkook
“Mine,” he muttered under his breath. The word wasn’t a declaration. It was a vow.
Later that night, the mansion’s corridors were quiet, stripped of music and chatter. Taehyung sat in the car beside Jaegguk, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He felt his fiancé’s gaze linger, but Jaegguk didn't speak. He didn’t ask about the tension in the hallway, or why Taehyung’s hands trembled.
For that, Taehyung was grateful. He couldn’t bear to lie. Not about Jungkook. Not again.
His phone buzzed once more. A message from Vantan.
Kim Vantan
“Come straight home. Don’t delay.”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung’s throat tightened. He typed back quickly: I’m on my way.
Beside him, Jaegguk’s hand brushed his. Taehyung forced a small smile, leaning against him. He wanted to believe this was enough—that the life he had now, the promises of safety, of marriage, of family—would be enough to bury the past.
Jeon Jungkook
But Jungkook’s voice still haunted his ears: Did you really think you could ever escape me?
Back at the Jeon estate, Jungkook sat alone in his study, the firelight painting his face in gold and shadow. Before him, a knife glinted on the desk. Slowly, almost tenderly, he dragged the blade’s tip across the polished wood, carving deep, deliberate strokes.
When he lifted his hand, Taehyung’s initials were burned into the surface.
Jungkook’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. His lips moved, whispering words no one was meant to hear.
Jeon Jungkook
“Mine. Always mine. No matter who tries to take you away.”
His eyes gleamed with a light that was not entirely sane. The beast rattled its cage, closer to breaking free.
Guard
A knock came at the door. One of his men entered, bowing low. “Boss?
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook didn’t look up. “Follow him,” he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of thunder. “Kim Taehyung. I want to know where he goes. Who he meets. What he hides.”
He lifted the knife again, pressing the cold steel briefly against his own palm until a thin line of blood welled up. The sting made him smile faintly.
Jeon Jungkook
“Every. Single. Night.”
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