The Golden Son
The mansion gates loomed higher than any cathedral, iron wrought into sharp crowns that cut against the night sky.
Bogum’s hands trembled on the steering wheel as the black car crawled up the private drive. The headlights washed over polished marble, fountains glittering under gold lights, and a palace that looked less like a home and more like a kingdom.
Inside, the halls of the Kim mansion were silent but heavy with power. Every chandelier glittered like judgment. Every painting on the walls—a dynasty of faces with the same sharp jaw, the same piercing eyes—seemed to glare down at him.
Bogum’s throat tightened when the sound of footsteps echoed on the marble staircase.
He didn’t simply walk. He descended like someone who had never been taught what it meant to wait. Wrapped in a perfectly cut black suit, his shoulders straight, his gaze colder than diamonds, Taehyung was every inch the untouchable icon the world worshiped. The man who had owned headlines for years: 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚’𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫. 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞.
People begged to be near him. They carved his initials into their skin, cried at his premieres, bought his colognes. To breathe the same air as him was a privilege—one he never granted lightly.
And Bogum had failed him.
Bogum started, voice cracking.
Park bo gum
I’m sorry. I should have been at the airport. I lost track of time, I—
The single word froze him. Taehyung’s tone was not loud. It was worse than loud. It was sharp, restrained, carrying a disgust that made Bogum’s stomach twist.
Kim Taehyung
Don’t come near me.
Taehyung’s jaw clenched. His eyes flicked over Bogum as if he were filth dragged in from the street.
Kim Taehyung
𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
Park bo gum
What—what do you mean— *Lips parted*
Kim Taehyung
That stench.
Taehyung’s words dripped with venom.
Kim Taehyung
Perfume. Cheap liquor. Smoke. You reek of a 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲. Tell me, cousin, is that where you spent your time while I was waiting at the airport like an idiot?
Bogum paled, words tripping over each other.
Park bo gum
It’s not— I just—please, forgive me—
Taehyung’s laugh was hollow, humorless. His eyes darkened, voice cutting like glass.
Kim Taehyung
I don’t forgive betrayal. And I don’t forgive filth. You touched one of them, didn’t you? 𝘼 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚.
His lips curled as though the word itself tasted foul.
Kim Taehyung
I can hear it in your voice. I can smell it. Disgusting.
Bogum flinched, every apology choking in his throat.
Taehyung turned away, hand tightening into a fist at his side.
Kim Taehyung
Do you know what I hate more than lies? *voice dropped, deadly low*
Kim Taehyung
Dirt. And tonight, you brought dirt into my house.
The words should have killed him right there—but another voice broke through the tension.
𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘌𝘖 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘒𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘢’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘫𝘢𝘸 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.
Namjoon’s gaze fell on Taehyung first, not Bogum.
Kim Namjoon
Your cousin made a mistake. You don’t need to burn him alive for it.
Bogum’s knees nearly buckled under the weight of his shame. He wanted to beg, to kneel, but Taehyung’s glare froze him where he stood.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭—𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘉𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.
He muttered, voice clipped.
Kim Taehyung
You weren’t there. You didn’t hear it. You didn’t hear the sound of that thing’s voice on the phone. Just the memory makes me sick.
His jaw clenched, words slicing the room in half.
Kim Taehyung
He went to that—that 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚. In all the world, he chose that. And he thinks I should forgive?
Namjoon’s gaze darkened but calm.
Kim Namjoon
Still, he’s blood. That’s enough.
Taehyung’s laugh was sharp, bitter, teeth bared. He shook his head once, turning his back on both of them.
Kim Taehyung
Blood means nothing if it reeks of dirt.
With that, he strode toward the grand staircase, every step echoing like a warning.
Kim Taehyung
Don’t expect me to look at you the same again
He threw over his shoulder, voice dripping disdain.
Kim Taehyung
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗵’𝘀 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳.
The slam of his door upstairs reverberated like thunder through the mansion.
Bogum stood frozen, breath ragged, shame curling around him like chains.
Namjoon’s sigh broke the silence.
Kim Namjoon
You should leave him for now. His temper will cool.
But as Bogum’s trembling hands clutched his coat tighter, he knew better. Taehyung’s temper didn’t cool. It carved scars.
Author
Be honest, guys—how does our flawless, arrogant Taehyung look to you so far? Can you imagine him losing his mind over a shameless hooker like Jimin?
Author
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Comments
bts forever💜 tk 💚💜
author now I am damn excited about there first meeting 💜❤thanks for update
2025-09-04
1
DΛRLO
well prepared i can already imagine him 🥸🤌🏻😌
2025-09-06
2