The sound of rain tapping against the tall windows of the estate was soft, rhythmic — like a quiet lullaby meant for someone long forgotten. But inside the master’s chamber, silence reigned with the oppressive weight of something deeper. Something crueler.

Jungkook was on his knees.

The marble floor beneath him was cold, but his body had grown numb to temperature. The only warmth he felt came from the fading sting of red marks scattered across his thighs, his chest, his wrists. His robe — thin, silken, violet — hung loosely over his shoulders, the collar around his throat tight, biting softly into his skin. The leather was worn, embossed with the letter V in gold. A brand. A reminder.

I belong to him.

I always did.

He had stopped crying hours ago. The tears hadn’t done much, except make the humiliation feel heavier. His breath was shallow, his mind replaying every mistake he made in the last twenty-four hours — things he said, things he didn’t.

> “You spoke without permission. You left the room without command. You didn’t kneel when I entered.”

Each word from Taehyung’s mouth had been slow and deliberate. It wasn’t just about obedience. It was about control. Ownership.

Love had long since bled into something else.

The door creaked open behind him.

Jungkook didn’t need to look to know who it was. He could feel him — his presence was like ice and fire wrapped in silk. Taehyung’s footsteps were calm, unhurried, each one echoing like a death sentence.

> “Still sulking?” Taehyung’s voice was soft, almost amused.

Jungkook didn’t answer. His fingers curled into his palms.

> “Answer me.”

Jungkook’s lips parted. His voice came out in a whisper, hoarse from the night’s screams. “N-No, Master.”

Taehyung walked in front of him and stopped, his tall frame casting a long shadow over Jungkook’s smaller one. He looked like a painting — shirt half unbuttoned, dark hair tousled, lips slightly parted as he studied his broken pet.

There was no sympathy in his gaze. Only calculation.

> “Do you know why you’re being punished, Jungkook?”

The name hit like a bullet. He never used it unless he meant to wound.

Jungkook hesitated. “Because… because I disobeyed.”

> CRACK.

The crop struck his thigh again. Sharp. Clean.

Jungkook flinched but didn’t scream. He had learned not to.

> “Wrong,” Taehyung said. “You’re being punished because you lied.”

Jungkook’s head lifted slightly. Confusion twisted across his tear-stained face.

Taehyung leaned down until their faces were inches apart. “You’re hiding something from me.”

That was the truth. But hearing it aloud from Taehyung’s mouth made Jungkook’s stomach knot.

The secrets — they were dangerous. Not because of what they were, but because of what they meant. The past he had buried, the things he had done, the people he had betrayed… and the one lie that ruined everything.

The night I lost you was the night I became yours.

He looked away.

> “Still won’t speak?” Taehyung murmured, brushing a finger along Jungkook’s cheek. “You used to cry my name like it was the only thing that kept you alive. Now you hide from me like I’m the monster under your bed.”

You are, Jungkook thought.

But I still love you.

[FLASHBACK – 5 Years Ago]

Springtime. Seoul National University.

Cherry blossoms danced in the breeze, and the air smelled like youth. Jungkook was twenty, shy, too pretty for his own good, and too naïve to realize it. He walked with a canvas under his arm and paint smudges on his cheek, hurrying to class.

Then, like fate, he crashed straight into him.

> “Shit—watch it, bunny.”

Taehyung’s laughter was like warm caramel — rich, smooth, addicting. He had always called Jungkook that: bunny. Not out of cruelty, but endearment. A secret nickname only they shared.

Jungkook had dropped his paintbrushes, and Taehyung, effortlessly cool, helped him pick them up. Their fingers brushed. Something sparked.

> “You okay?” Taehyung asked, brushing hair from Jungkook’s eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

> “Haven’t,” Jungkook said honestly, eyes flickering away.

> “Want me to walk you to class? Make sure you don’t pass out on the way?”

That was how it started.

Late-night study sessions became sleepovers.

Sleepovers became cuddling.

Cuddling became lips on lips, fingers exploring, hearts tangled.

But it didn’t last. Nothing perfect ever does.

[PRESENT]

Taehyung stood, turning away from him. He walked to the glass window and stared out into the storm.

> “Do you ever think about what you did, Jungkook?”

Jungkook blinked. “I-I didn’t—”

> “You broke everything.”

Jungkook’s voice cracked. “You don’t understand—”

Taehyung spun around, rage flickering behind his eyes. “Then make me understand!”

Jungkook flinched. His nails dug into his palms until they left little crescent moons in his skin.

> “I… I was scared,” he whispered.

> “You weren’t scared. You were selfish.”

There was silence again. Deafening.

But something shifted in Taehyung’s eyes. Regret? Pain? Longing?

Jungkook crawled forward slightly, until his hands touched the edge of Taehyung’s trousers. He pressed his forehead against the fabric.

> “I never stopped loving you.”

Taehyung froze.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But he didn’t push him away either.

Elsewhere in the Estate…

Down in the east wing, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, cigarette dangling between his lips, smoke curling around his perfect face. He looked tired. Empty. Still beautiful, but hollow.

Yoongi entered without knocking. As always.

They stared at each other like strangers — like the love they once shared had been erased, overwritten by something ugly.

> “You shouldn’t be here,” Jimin said coldly.

> “And yet here I am,” Yoongi replied. “We need to talk.”

> “There’s nothing left to say. You made sure of that.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t betray you, Jimin.”

> “You lied.”

> “I protected you.”

> “You ruined me.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken things — betrayal, lust, heartbreak. And somewhere in the background, laughter echoed from a hallway.

Hoseok was watching everything unfold.

Back in the Master’s Chambers…

Taehyung finally looked down at Jungkook. His hand moved, brushing through the younger’s tangled hair.

> “You always say the right things when you're broken,” he murmured.

Jungkook looked up at him, eyes wide, red, desperate.

> “That’s the only time you ever listen.”

Taehyung said nothing. But when he dropped to his knees and cupped Jungkook’s jaw, something flickered — a ghost of the boy he used to be.

For a moment, just one moment, Taehyung kissed him. Softly. Not like a master. Not like a punishment.

But like a man who used to love him with everything he had.

Then it was gone.

> “Go back to your room,” Taehyung said coldly, standing.

> “But—”

> “Now.”

Jungkook rose, trembling, and turned to leave. He paused at the door, looked back.

> “You’re wrong,” he said quietly. “You think you own me because I kneel for you. But I’ve only ever knelt… because I chose you.”

He closed the door behind him.

Taehyung stood alone.

The hallways of the estate were eerily silent as Jungkook made his way back to his room — if it could even be called that. It was more of a gilded cage: high ceilings, silk sheets, no locks on the inside.

He walked barefoot, his robe fluttering slightly with each trembling step. The sting on his thigh still burned, and the echo of Taehyung’s lips lingered on his mouth.

A kiss that wasn’t punishment. A kiss that wasn’t command.

He touched his lips, almost reverently. His heart clenched.

> “What are you doing to me, Taehyung…”

Meanwhile — East Wing Lounge

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting golden light across Jimin’s smooth skin as he sat curled up on a leather armchair, drink in hand. The glass trembled slightly between his fingers.

> “He kissed him again,” he muttered.

Hoseok, lounging nearby with a lollipop between his teeth, raised a brow. “You spying again, Minnie?”

Jimin didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the flames.

Yoongi’s voice still echoed in his head.

> “I didn’t betray you.”

Liar.

He had trusted Yoongi with everything — his body, his secrets, his soul. But trust meant nothing when blood had been spilled in the name of silence. Jimin would never forget that night… the deal Yoongi made, the silence he bought, the consequences Jimin paid for.

> “He's breaking him,” Jimin said suddenly.

> “Taehyung?” Hoseok asked, twirling the stick of his candy.

> “Jungkook,” Jimin replied. “He’s not just hurt. He’s... hiding something. Something big.”

Flashback — Two Years Ago

It was pouring that night, too. The dorms were quiet, save for the laughter coming from Room 5B. Jimin was curled in Yoongi’s bed, half-naked, tangled in sheets and cigarette smoke.

> “You ever think it’ll end?” Jimin asked softly.

Yoongi hummed, fingers trailing lazily along Jimin’s spine. “Everything ends eventually.”

> “What about us?”

> “Not unless you want it to.”

Lies. Beautiful, cruel lies.

The next morning, Jimin woke up to an empty bed and a message burned into his phone screen:

> “Don’t look for me. It’s done.”

And just like that, Yoongi was gone. No reason. No goodbye. Just gone.

Back in Present — Jungkook’s Quarters

The moment the door closed behind him, Jungkook sank to the floor. The tears came slow at first, then harder, shaking his chest as sobs ripped through him.

He pressed his hands to his face, whispering over and over:

> “Why do you hate me… why do you still feel like home…”

His phone — hidden beneath a loose floorboard, unknown to Taehyung — buzzed.

UNKNOWN:

> They’re looking for the files. You have 3 days, Jeon. Don’t make me come there.

Jungkook’s breath caught.

No. Not now. Not while everything was falling apart.

He typed quickly:

> I told you I’m handling it. Stay out of sight.

He threw the phone across the room.

Secrets. Buried, but not dead.

And Taehyung? He had no idea the very boy he claimed to control was tangled in something far more dangerous than disobedience.

Later That Night – Taehyung’s Private Lounge

Yoongi sat with a drink in his hand, eyes sharp under low lighting. Taehyung lounged across from him, two buttons open, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass.

> “You still watching him bleed?” Yoongi asked, voice indifferent.

Taehyung didn’t look up. “He deserves it.”

> “No one deserves you,” Yoongi scoffed.

> “You’re one to talk,” Taehyung said coolly. “Didn’t you sell out your soulmate for a signed contract?”

Yoongi’s jaw ticked. “I did what I had to.”

> “And Jimin paid for it.”

Silence stretched thick between them. Neither man moved. Neither flinched.

> “You still love him?” Taehyung finally asked.

> “Always.”

> “Then you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

Yoongi leaned forward, eyes suddenly dark. “Says the man who keeps a leash on the only person he’s ever loved.”

Taehyung smiled slowly, menacingly. “At least I never lied to Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s voice turned sharp. “But you broke him.”

Midnight — Jungkook’s Dreams

He was back in the studio. Paint everywhere. The scent of turpentine and roses.

Taehyung leaned over him, shirt stained with color, lips tasting like strawberries and heat.

> “You’ll always be mine, you know that?”

> “Even if I run?”

> “I’ll find you.”

> “Even if I break?”

> “I’ll still love you.”

Jungkook reached for him, tears streaming, but everything dissolved into smoke.

Morning – Estate Garden

Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting broken rainbows across Jungkook’s pale skin as he sat beneath a stone arch, sketching silently. His fingers trembled slightly, and not from cold.

He heard the steps before he saw him.

Taehyung stood tall, hands in pockets, watching him like one might watch a caged animal they didn’t know how to love — or release.

> “You skipped morning call,” Taehyung said.

> “I didn’t feel well,” Jungkook replied, voice distant.

Taehyung walked closer. “I didn’t ask if you felt well.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. “And I didn’t ask for your permission.”

The slap came fast. Not hard. But enough to sting.

Enough to remind him who he was.

Taehyung leaned down, lips grazing Jungkook’s ear. “Defy me again, and I’ll remind you what punishment really tastes like.”

Jungkook stared ahead, blinking away tears.

> “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Maybe pain’s the only way you know how to touch me anymore.”

Taehyung froze.

And in that frozen silence, he saw something he hadn't in years:

Fear.

Not in Jungkook.

But in himself.

The sun didn’t shine inside the walls of this estate — not truly. It tried, bleeding through stained glass and grand windows, but everything about this place turned light into shadow. Jungkook felt it in his skin. The deeper he stayed, the darker he became.

And yet… he hadn’t left.

Even when he could.

Jungkook’s Room — Noon

He sat by the mirror, shirtless, tracing over the bruise on his cheek. Faint. Fading. But not forgotten.

Taehyung’s slap still echoed in his bones.

He remembered how he used to crave Taehyung’s touch — warm hands cupping his jaw, gentle thumbs brushing his tears away during college nights when deadlines felt like death. Now, his touch came wrapped in cruelty, dominance, and silent rage.

I made him this way, Jungkook thought bitterly. I broke something that was too fragile to survive.

But he had his reasons. They weren’t excuses. They were truths he couldn't tell.

He opened the drawer beneath his bed and pulled out a folded note. Its corners were frayed, stained with age, but the writing inside hadn’t faded.

> "If you ever tell him, they’ll kill us both. – H."

He crumpled the paper, swallowing back bile.

Flashback — Three Years Ago

The Night of the First Lie

Jungkook had been standing in a rain-soaked alley behind the Fine Arts building, his phone clutched tight. The man he’d been forced to meet was wearing a suit, gloves, and no expression.

> “Your friend’s father has debts,” the man had said. “Gambling. Drugs. The cartel doesn’t like unpaid balances.”

> “What does that have to do with me?” Jungkook had whispered, shivering.

> “Because you’re the one who can save him.”

A photo had been placed in Jungkook’s hands.

Taehyung. Bloodied. Unconscious. Chained in a basement.

> “You give us the faculty data you’ve stolen access to, and he walks free. You say a word to him? You both die. Do we have an understanding?”

Jungkook had nodded.

And from that moment forward, he started living a lie that unraveled everything.

Present — Estate Library

Taehyung stood in the vast private library, watching an old surveillance feed replay on loop. It was blurry — two figures exchanging something in the dark — but the silhouette was unmistakable.

Jungkook. Handing off a USB.

A week before their fallout.

Taehyung's fist clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

> “You gave them everything, didn’t you?” he muttered.

He didn’t know who “they” were yet. But he would. And when he did, he’d drag the truth out of Jungkook’s throat — even if it broke him.

Yoongi’s Apartment — Downtown

Jimin hadn’t meant to show up. Not really.

He had been drinking — alone — and found himself outside Yoongi’s private city flat. The building reeked of quiet wealth. The kind that smelled like betrayal.

He knocked once.

Yoongi opened the door, surprised.

> “Jimin?”

> “Don’t say my name like that.”

> “Like what?”

> “Like it still means something to you.”

Yoongi stepped aside, letting him in. “You’re drunk.”

> “Not enough,” Jimin muttered, brushing past him.

The place was immaculate. Like Yoongi always kept things tidy so no one would see how messy he was inside.

> “Why did you do it?” Jimin asked suddenly, dropping onto the couch.

> “You know why.”

> “I don’t.” His voice cracked. “You left. You disappeared. You let me take the fall for something I didn’t even understand.”

Yoongi walked to the minibar and poured two drinks.

> “Because your name was already on the list, Jimin. They were going to use you whether I helped or not.”

> “So you saved me by ruining me?”

Yoongi turned to him, eyes glinting. “I saved your life.”

> “I wish you hadn’t.”

Back at the Estate — Dusk

Jungkook had cleaned himself, changed, and stood by the courtyard fountain. The water sparkled faintly in the dying light.

Taehyung approached slowly, wearing black on black. Always elegant. Always lethal.

> “Come.”

Jungkook followed without protest.

They walked to a smaller chamber — cold, stone-walled, dimly lit. It was Taehyung’s punishment room. No chains tonight. Just silence. And distance.

Taehyung pointed to the floor. Jungkook knelt.

> “Tell me what you did.”

> “I… don’t understand.”

> “Don’t lie to me.”

Jungkook looked up. For a moment, he saw the boy he loved standing in front of him again. Then it was gone.

> “I never meant to hurt you.”

> “But you did.”

Taehyung’s voice was low. Calm. Dangerous.

He walked around Jungkook like a predator, circling him slowly.

> “I gave you everything. I would’ve set the world on fire for you.”

> “You did.” Jungkook’s voice cracked. “And you let me burn in it.”

Taehyung stopped walking.

> “You betrayed me.”

Jungkook’s lip trembled. “If I told you the truth… you would’ve died.”

Taehyung grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up, mouth inches from his.

> “Then maybe I should’ve.”

Silence.

Breathless, charged, deadly.

Then Taehyung shoved him to the floor and turned away.

> “Go,” he said.

> “Taehyung—”

> “Leave.”

Later That Night — Secret Wing

Jungkook met Hoseok in the hall near the west wing, both careful not to be seen.

> “Did you get it?” Jungkook whispered.

Hoseok handed him a small envelope.

> “This is the last time, Kook. You’re dancing on a blade.”

> “I know.”

> “Taehyung finds out, he won’t punish you. He’ll destroy you.”

> “He already has.”

Hoseok hesitated, then said softly, “He’s not as blind as you think. He’s watching everyone now.”

> “Then let him watch.”

Jungkook walked away, envelope tucked inside his robe.

The first page inside?

A photo of the cartel leader who tortured Taehyung three years ago.

The second?

A blood contract with Yoongi’s name on it.