The oak doors of the meeting room opened with a heavy groan.
Cigar smoke swirled in lazy patterns above the polished table, where the Bangtan family gathered. Namjoon sat at the head, calm eyes behind his glasses, the quiet menace of a man who never needed to raise his voice to command respect. Beside him sat Jin, papers neatly stacked, gaze sharp and calculating. yoongi leaned back, tapping a pen against the table, expression unreadable. Hoseok, in contrast, grinned faintly as he cleaned a knife with a white cloth, looking far too entertained.
Jimin reclined with elegance, sipping wine, a teasing smile on his lips as he whispered something to Jackson—who was draped casually in his chair, all confidence and charm.
But Jungkook barely saw them. His gaze was fixed on one person.
Kim Taehyung.
Seated in the middle, whiskey glass in hand, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. His eyes burned sharper than anyone else’s, and his smirk carried the weight of both danger and temptation.
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