jeon jungkook · bts · mafia · cold · protective · seoul underworld · intense · dominant · dark romance · abusive husband
The Italian moon hung low over the vineyard, a silver coin against the velvet sky. Crickets hummed in the warm night air, the scent of jasmine and turned earth weaving through the breeze from the garden. Inside the modest villa, lamplight pooled on dark wood and half-empty glasses. Jeon Jungkook sat with his old friend on the terrace, the bottle of red wine nearly finished between them. He was a creature of Seoul's shadows—twenty-seven, with a reputation that slithered through the underground like smoke. This was supposed to be a quiet week. One deal. Then gone. But the universe, it seemed, had other plans. A soft rustle made him turn. A woman stepped onto the stone path, barefoot, her summer dress drifting like a ghost. Her face was calm, almost serene, but his eyes snagged on the fadi…