Chapter 4:
The front door clicked shut with a dull echo as Taehyung stepped inside, the late evening air clinging to his coat like exhaustion wrapped around his frame. His briefcase, usually carried with confidence, now dangled loosely from his fingers before he dropped it on the small entryway bench.
It had been a long day.
As the President of Phoenix Rigid University and one of its most respected professors, the weight of the upcoming annual exams had pressed harder than usual. Endless meetings, last-minute scheduling, and frustrated staff had pulled every thread of energy from his body.
He loosened his tie with one hand as he moved through the silent house, each step heavy. The soft click of his polished shoes against the wooden floor echoed in the quiet, making the stillness feel more pronounced.
Their shared bedroom was dimly lit when he entered.
His fingers hovered for a moment on the light switch, but he didn’t turn it on. Instead, he walked to the en-suite bathroom, his mind still fogged with memories of the previous night—a complicated mixture of disappointment and aching affection.
He wasn’t angry with Jungkook.
No, anger never even crossed his mind.
He was… sad. Hurt. And maybe—just maybe—feeling a little helpless.
He had raised that boy since he was six. He had held him through nightmares, taught him how to ride a bike, bandaged his scraped knees, and years later, stood beside him on their wedding day, proud and in love.
So, to hear Jungkook question his worth… to see that spark of insecurity in the boy he’d always encouraged to be brave; to be enough… it had cracked something in him.
After a long, quiet shower, Taehyung came out with his hair damp and curling softly around his temples. He wore simple black lounge pants and a loose grey sweater. The usual confidence in his posture was subdued tonight, his movements slower.
He walked back into the bedroom—only to stop.
A small table had been set up near the balcony doors, where sheer curtains swayed lightly in the breeze. The room was bathed in warm candlelight, flickering gently from a few tall holders placed carefully around the space.
The table itself was modest, but beautifully decorated — two white plates arranged with food, garnished lovingly, with a small bouquet of baby’s breath and violets tucked in a small glass jar between them.
Jungkook sat quietly in one of the chairs.
He was wearing a soft white silk shirt, looking like an angel, hair brushed neatly, eyes wide and nervous as they lifted to meet Taehyung’s.
But Taehyung said nothing.
He walked over slowly, his face unreadable, and took the empty seat opposite Jungkook. Not a word, not even a glance.
Instead, he picked up the serving spoon and began putting food on his plate.
Jungkook watched every movement with anxious eyes, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. The silence between them was thick, like fog—settling around them heavily.
Unable to bear it any longer, Jungkook leaned forward slightly, his lower lip pushed out in a dramatic pout.
“Hubbyyyyyyyy...” he whined, dragging out the syllables like a child seeking forgiveness. “Don’t ignore me…”
Still, Taehyung didn’t look at him. He just took a slow bite of his rice.
“I’m sorry.” Jungkook’s voice cracked slightly. “I was wrong. I’ll never think like that again, I promise.”
Nothing.
Jungkook pouted harder, his big doe eyes glittering under the candlelight, looking more like a guilty bunny than a grown man. His mind flashed with what Jimin, Niki, and Soobin had told him that afternoon:
“He’s not just your husband, Kook. He’s basically your parent figure too.”
“He raised you. He watched you grow. He built you strong.”
“And now you’re doubting yourself like this? He must be hurting. Not angry. Just... hurt.”
Jungkook swallowed hard.
And now, sitting across from him—Taehyung’s every quiet bite, every unspoken word—confirmed it. He wasn’t mad. He was disappointed.
That realization stung more than any scolding ever could.
The clink of cutlery on porcelain marked the only sound in the room, save for the quiet flicker of candle flames.
Taehyung sat still, calm on the surface but carrying the weight of thoughts beneath it. His expression unreadable, his movements refined—every bite he took seemed calculated, emotion carefully tucked away. He didn’t look up, even once.
Across from him, Jungkook sat anxiously, fingers playing with the edge of the tablecloth. He had tried everything—his softest voice, his most apologetic pout, even his signature bunny eyes—but nothing broke through Taehyung’s silence. Not yet.
And then, slowly, Jungkook stood.
Taehyung's fork paused mid-air. His eyes flicked up, and in an instant, the air changed. It thickened, heavy with tension.
Jungkook stepped around the table, the candlelight dancing across his bare legs—long, toned, and completely exposed under Taehyung’s crisp white shirt. The hem fell just barely below his hips, teasing glimpses of his dick made Taehyung’s throat tighten.
But what truly robbed Taehyung of breath—what nearly shattered the restraint he was desperately clinging to—was the delicate piece of jewellery wrapped around Jungkook’s upper thigh.
A thin, glinting chain adorned with dangling charms, each soft movement causing a subtle, musical jingle. A sensual melody that seemed to echo louder than it should in the quiet room.
Taehyung’s jaw clenched.
Jungkook stepped forward, slowly, like a feline closing in. His gaze never left Taehyung’s eyes, unwavering, knowing. He gently moved Taehyung’s plate aside, clearing space—his movements innocent in action but sultry in execution.
Then, without asking, he sat on the edge of the table, right in front of Taehyung. One leg lifted slightly—resting on Taehyung’s thigh. Soo close to his now hard on. The chain kissed Jungkook’s soft legs with every slight motion, cool metal brushing warm skin.
Taehyung stared, eyes now dark as night, but his face remained unreadable. Jungkook leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper, as he rested one hand on Taehyung’s chest.
“Please, hyung... don’t be disappointed in me,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities get the better of me. I just... I didn’t mean to think like that. I know you’ve always made me feel safe, loved… But last night, my head just… wasn’t right.”
His voice trembled, vulnerability dripping from every word. It wasn’t seduction anymore. It was an apology—raw and real.
Taehyung closed his eyes for a moment. A sigh escaped his lips, part frustration, part exhaustion, and maybe part surrender. When he opened them again, the softness in his gaze returned. Still intense, but no longer cold.
“You think I’m ignoring you because I’m angry?” Taehyung asked, his voice low, rough. “I’m not. I’m disappointed because you thought so little of yourself. Because you believed—after all this time—that I could ever look away from you. That I could leave you.”
Jungkook’s eyes welled, but he bit his lip, nodding.
“I don’t need you to beg for attention or wear chains to earn forgiveness,” Taehyung said, his hand finally lifting to cradle Jungkook’s jaw. His thumb swept over Jungkook’s cheek gently. “But I won’t lie, you do look... unfairly stunning right now.”
A shy smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips.
Taehyung smirked slightly, but it didn’t reach the mischief it usually did. Instead, it was warm, wistful.
“You’re not getting off the hook this easily, though,” he added, rising from his chair.
Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”
Without warning, Taehyung reached behind Jungkook and pulled off his tie from the back of the chair. He slid it smoothly around Jungkook’s waist, securing it gently—not tight, but enough to guide.
“Come on,” he said, voice a quiet command. “Let’s finish this conversation... somewhere else.”
And with that, he gave the softest tug, pulling Jungkook down from the table. The charms on his thigh jingled once more as he followed, willingly, toward the bed—guided by the silk of Taehyung’s tie, and the bond only they truly understood.
Taehyung’s gaze dropped slightly—to Jungkook’s clothes, the subtle nervous tremble in his fingers, the flushed pink rising in his cheeks. So soft. So guilty. So heartbreakingly sincere.
Taehyung’s throat went dry. His body froze for just a second, and he could swear his soul left his body at the look on Jungkook’s face.
Vulnerable. Ashamed. Loving.
And waiting to be forgiven.
Taehyung sighed, his expression softening, even if he tried to keep it firm.
Jungkook blinked. “Hyung...?”
“We’re not done,” Taehyung said softly, his voice low but without coldness. “But you’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”
And then, without another word, he gently tugged the tie, guiding Jungkook with him near the bed, across the dimly lit room.
Not rushed. Not angry.
Just… quietly dominant. Controlled. And somehow still tender.
Taehyung sits on their bed first, guiding Jungkook to stand in front of him by the silk tie still wrapped around his waist. The subtle jingle of the charms on Jungkook’s thigh echoed gently with every step — light, sweet, and absolutely intoxicating.
Taehyung let go of the tie but turned slowly. His eyes dropped again to that glinting accessory dancing across Jungkook’s upper thigh. With a quiet hum, he reached out, fingers ghosting over the delicate chain.
The cool metal shimmered against the soft skin it hugged, and Taehyung watched, fascinated, as one small charm twisted beneath his touch.
He gave the chain a light flick.
Jingle-jingle.
Jungkook shivered. “Hyung...”
“You have no idea what this does to me,” Taehyung murmured, voice low and full of awe. “How unfair it is.”
Jungkook looked at him, lips parted. “Then... punish me.”
Taehyung smirked — that slow, dangerous curl of lips — but his eyes remained tender. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”
Without another word, he gently pulled Jungkook closer and tapped the inside of his thigh, signalling him to part his legs just slightly. Jungkook obeyed with a soft breath, his hands took support against Taehyung’s shoulders to stay still.
The sight before Taehyung — the hem of his own shirt barely covering anything, his sin peeking beneath the fabric, the shimmering chain glinting under the lights, the sound of those tiny bells chiming like a siren’s song — it was too much, too beautiful.
Taehyung brought his hand back and gave one firm, calculated spank across Jungkook’s thigh — not hard, just enough to make the chain (them) jingle brightly.
Jingle-jingle-jingle.
Jungkook gasped, not from pain but from the warmth that bloomed across his skin. Taehyung chuckled, now gently running his fingers along the charms again.
“That's the sound,” he said, eyes locked on the movement. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
He knelt slightly, brushing his lips just above where the chain rested, letting his nose graze against the dangling charms. “It’s... addicting.”
Jungkook let out a shaky breath. “Hyung…”
“I want you to wear this more often,” Taehyung said, gently biting at a charm before standing. “For me. Only for me.”
Jungkook nodded, eyes shining. “Only for you.”
The tension between them slowly softened into something deeper — something safe. Taehyung brought Jungkook into his arms, kissing his forehead, then his nose, then finally, with all the love he had stored in his heart, kissed his lips. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t punishing. It was soft, claiming, and full of promise.
He whispered, “No more doubting yourself, hmm? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Nothing about you is replaceable.”
Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s neck, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I was scared… But I trust you more than anything. I just need to learn to trust myself, too.”
Taehyung held him tighter, lips brushing the shell of Jungkook’s ear. “Then let’s learn together.”
He scooped Jungkook up bridal-style and put him on the mattress softly. The soft glow from the candles still lit the bedroom gently, now casting shadows across the sheets.
Lying Jungkook down, Taehyung climbed in beside him. Jungkook curled into him instantly, his face nuzzling in the crook of Taehyung’s neck, a small smile resting on his lips.
Taehyung traced small patterns on Jungkook’s bare thigh, occasionally tapping the chain just to hear it sing again.
Jingle-jingle.
“You know,” he murmured, lips brushing against Jungkook’s temple, “this sound might become my new obsession.”
Jungkook chuckled sleepily. “More than me?”
“Never,” Taehyung said, voice thick with affection. “But you with this sound… That’s something I’ll never forget.”
As their breaths began to slow and sync, Jungkook whispered, “Goodnight, Hyungie…”
Taehyung kissed the crown of his head. “Goodnight, my love. Dream of music, chains, and nothing but my name.”
And with that, the room faded into quiet — filled only with the faint jingle of metal against skin and the gentle breathing of two hearts finally at peace.
--------------------------
The bedroom was steeped in the soft glow of the moonlight slipping through the curtains.
The once flickering candlelight had melted down to silence, and in the cozy aftermath of their emotional evening, Taehyung lay with Jungkook wrapped tightly around him like a vine—arms locked around his waist, legs tangled in his, and his cheek nestled in the crook of Taehyung's neck.
It was peaceful.
Until—Taehyung flinched slightly.
A soft nibble.
Then another.
He blinked awake, confusion giving way to amusement as he realized it was Jungkook—still deep in sleep—gently biting at the base of his neck, mumbling something incoherent.
Taehyung tilted his head slightly, stifling a chuckle. “What are you dreaming about, bunny?”
He listened closely. Jungkook’s brows were faintly furrowed, lips barely moving as little sounds slipped through.
“…H-Hyungggg…aah….mm… hubb-y…aah….so..go…ahh..ood… ” he mumbled between sleepy moans and murmurs.
Taehyung’s eyes widened a bit, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his lips. “Ah, so that’s what this is…” he whispered to himself, brushing Jungkook’s hair back from his damp forehead.
Jungkook’s warm breath fluttered against Taehyung’s collarbone. Every now and then, he would tighten his hold, rub his cheek against Taehyung’s skin like a clingy pup, and then give a little squeaky groan, lips and tongue brushing over Taehyung’s shoulder, licking, nibbling, biting, marking.
“P-Profes-sor Kim…aah… fas-ter..ah…”
Taehyung’s heart swelled at the sight as well as his trousers—his gorgeous, bratty little husband turning into a needy koala even in his dreams.
He could feel the warmth of Jungkook’s bare skin against him, the soft twist of the shirt Jungkook had worn earlier now barely covering anything. His body is mostly naked, and so is his lower half.
The chain around Jungkook’s thigh adorned his naked lower body, its tiny charms gently chiming every time Jungkook shifted. Jungkook is looking no less than a sleeping sin begging to be committed, and his moans are just adding to his sinful look.
Taehyung sighed, rubbing soft circles on Jungkook’s back to soothe him, though his own body wasn’t unaffected. His thoughts wandered briefly—mischievous, curious—but he reined them in. Jungkook was dreaming, and Taehyung would never let desire override care.
Still, his fingers couldn’t resist reaching out to brush lightly over the little charms hanging from Jungkook’s thigh chain, smiling as they jingled softly. The sound was oddly addictive, almost musical.
“I’m definitely making you wear these again,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to Jungkook’s temple.
He thought the moment had passed. That was, until Jungkook suddenly tightened his hold again and bit his neck—not too harsh, but enough to make Taehyung gasp.
“Aish—!” he hissed under his breath.
Jungkook giggled in his sleep.
“Steak…” he mumbled softly, and then, licking the same spot he’d just bitten, he sighed happily. “Ice cream… coco… hmm…”
Taehyung was speechless for a moment before covering his face with one hand.
“You little food-obsessed troublemaker,” he whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Dreaming of food and me in the same breath—should I be flattered or offended?”
Shaking his head, Taehyung gently adjusted the covers over both of them and pulled Jungkook tighter into his arms. Despite the lingering heat between them and the chaos Jungkook’s sleep-talking had left behind, Taehyung’s heart was soft and full.
“Sleep well, my bunny,” he whispered into Jungkook’s hair. “We’ll talk about this… food dream of yours in the morning.”
With one last glance at Jungkook’s peaceful face, Taehyung finally closed his eyes again, smiling as they drifted back into slumber, tangled in warmth and each other’s heartbeat.
-----------------------------
It all started at 5:30 AM.
The Kim Mansion, usually a haven of elegant tranquillity, was quiet. Too quiet. Only the soft rustling of maids preparing breakfast could be heard. But even they paused now and then, throwing side-eyes to one another, whispering about how early a certain someone had woken up.
“Did you see Master Jungkook today? He was already dressed and grinning when I passed by the hall,” whispered one maid.
“And he was in a very good and cheerful mood today, just like a bouncy bunny hopping around,” Soojin added, looking at Jungkook with eyes full of adoration.
“That’s exactly the problem,” the head maid deadpanned. “He’s planning something. I am already looking ahead to today's drama.”
And oh, was he ever.
Down the hall, Jungkook was tiptoeing past Taehyung’s study, holding a small remote and a very smug grin. Last night’s harmless teasing and playful bites weren’t enough for him. His Hyungie was too innocent and naïve sometimes.
How can he not notice that Jungkook was not actually sleeping but had intensely decided to give his Hyungie blue balls? His Hyungie needed a reminder that Jungkook still had the upper hand when it came to chaos.
And today was the day.
Operation: Prince Panic
Earlier that morning, Jungkook had carefully rigged Taehyung’s walk-in wardrobe with a set of mischievous surprises—all remote-controlled and timed perfectly for dramatic effect.
As per his daily routine, freshly showered Kim Taehyung entered his wardrobe at precisely 6:45 AM to get ready before breakfast. He opened his neatly arranged drawers to pick out his favourite silk tie, when—
PFFFFFFFTTTTT!!
A loud air horn blared from inside the drawer, making Taehyung stumble backward and nearly knock over a coat rack.
“What the—?!”
Before he could recover, he opened the next drawer—
BOINGGGG!
Out sprang a glitter bomb—gold and rose glitter exploding in a beautiful, yet savage cloud, covering his hands, his chest, and most importantly… his hair.
“JUNGKOOK…” he whispered darkly, blinking through sparkles.
He reached for his trousers.
Instead of finding his usual pressed pants, he found none, all mysteriously missing—replaced by a single pair of hot pink boxers with “PROPERTY OF KIM JUNGKOOK 💋” written in glittery letters across the butt.
Taehyung’s eye twitched.
He stomped toward the mirror—already coughing glitter—and found a sticky note pasted right at eye level.
“Good morning, Professor Kim 💼✨ — consider this revenge for ignoring my sexy self last night.
Wanna know a fun fact about bunnies? Bunnies are one of the most sexually active creatures.
Your horny Bunny 🐰
P.S. I might have switched your cologne with vanilla room spray. Hope you smell delicious today. And just for a bit more twist, I was not asleep last night, it was intentional just to give you some blue balls as a gift😘”
It was the final straw.
Downstairs, in the dining hall, the maids pretended to be busy setting the table, while Mr. and Mrs. Kim sipped their morning tea—hiding amused smiles. Everyone was waiting.
Jungkook, already seated at the table in his neatly ironed fluffy clothes and innocent expression, was munching on toast and humming.
He didn’t even flinch when it happened.
A thunderous, earth-shaking voice bellowed through the halls—
"KIM JUNGKOOKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!"
The spoon in Mrs. Kim’s hand clattered to her saucer as she burst into quiet laughter.
Mr. Kim didn’t even pretend to hide it. “That boy has a death wish.”
The maids leaned toward one another, whispering excitedly.
“Oh, it’s happening!”
“What did he do this time?!”
“Go see if he runs again!”
They didn’t have to wait long.
Jungkook froze mid-chew, blinked once, and bolted from his chair—toast still in hand—dashing out of the dining hall with the speed of a track star.
“Where is he going?”
“Probably to his office! That’s his only safe zone!”
True to prediction, Jungkook sprinted out the front door, dodging a now glitter-drenched, silk-tie-wielding Taehyung, who had emerged from the stairs looking like a furious fashion god dipped in fairy dust.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, KIM JUNGKOOK, YOU ARE SO DEAD WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!”
Jungkook called back with a cheeky grin, “Love you too, hyungieeee!” before hopping into his car’s backseat and speeding off.
Mrs. Kim took a serene sip of her tea and sighed. “It’s too early for this. But I love chaos. I practically live for it.”
Mr. Kim chuckled, shaking his head. “At least it’s not boring today.”
The mansion buzzed with laughter, gossip, and sparkles for the rest of the morning, because everyone knew this was only the beginning of another war between the playful prince and his glitter-bombed king.
-------------------
The grand hall had transformed into a wonderland of grace and luxury.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen constellations. Ivory drapes cascaded down the tall windows, allowing golden sunlight to spill gently across polished marble floors.
Along the runway, ivory roses interlaced with soft blush peonies formed delicate floral borders. Cameras clicked. Murmurs fluttered. Excitement buzzed in the air — today was KJ Label’s most anticipated launch to date: The Eternal Vow Wedding Collection.
This wasn’t just a fashion event — it was a statement. A celebration. A love letter crafted in silk and thread.
For a full week, Jungkook had immersed himself in every detail. He hadn’t rested much, hadn’t allowed himself to slow down. Between international orders, fittings, interviews he refused to take (to keep his identity hidden), and overseeing every last crystal placement — he was running on sheer willpower and passion.
Today’s launch featured 30 wedding pieces — each one elegant, modern, and steeped in timeless emotion. But the crown jewels were the final seven designs — personally sketched, cut, and stitched by Jungkook himself.
Among them, two held the deepest meaning: an exquisite hanbok-inspired wedding gown and a sleek embroidered suit — made specially for the couple he loved most in the world: his Mumma and Dada.
Hidden from the press and guests, in a private suite behind the stage, Mr. and Mrs. Kim stood under the warm glow of vintage sconces, looking at their reflections.
Mrs. Kim blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening, running her fingers along the delicate gold-thread embroidery woven into the crimson silk of her gown — a design echoing the traditional grace of Korean heritage, with a modern silhouette that flattered every line of her.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked softly, voice trembling with emotion. “We’re not models… we’re not even young.”
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Momma,” Jungkook said gently from behind her, fastening a final pin into her elegant updo. He stepped back and smiled at both of them. “And Dada, you look like a king.”
Mr. Kim gave a low chuckle, adjusting the satin lapels of his charcoal grey suit, accented with subtle floral embroidery that matched his wife’s gown perfectly. “Still can’t believe they picked us for the finale couple. What an honour.”
Taehyung, leaning against the nearby wall in a rich velvet suit, watched the entire exchange with warmth in his eyes. He remained quiet and proud, his arms crossed and his lips curved into a subtle smile as he observed his husband shine in his element.
Only they knew the truth — that the one styling this entire collection, the hidden genius behind KJ Labels, was Kim Jungkook, his husband. No designer name. No camera interviews. Just art — and a message of enduring love.
“You ready?” Taehyung murmured as Jungkook approached him. He brushed imaginary dust off Jungkook’s crisp black suit.
Jungkook nodded, a hint of nervous energy fluttering in his chest. “It’s time.”
The Lights Dimmed. The Music Swelled.
The runway was alive now — a parade of dreamlike elegance. Models, both Korean and international, flowed down the aisle in satins, silks, and lace. Veils shimmered like water. Suits glistened subtly under the warm spotlight. The crowd of celebrities, KJ label’s photographers and editors, and buyers held their breath as each design stole the stage.
When the final segment began — the one dedicated to “Love Beyond Time” — the atmosphere shifted.
A string quartet began to play a soft rendition of a classic Korean lullaby. And then, they walked out — Mr. and Mrs. Kim, hand in hand, the picture of graceful love. The audience gasped — not because they were celebrities, but because the moment was raw, pure, and impossibly touching.
As they reached the centre of the stage, a spotlight followed them. On the screen behind them, a soft video began to play — a montage of their life. Photographs from their youth. Their wedding. A grainy clip of them holding a six-year-old Jungkook’s hand, walking him into his first school. And then the voiceover:
“Today, we celebrate not just style… but something deeper. We celebrate a love that has endured, grown, and inspired. To the couple who raised me, believed in me, and never let me forget my worth — Happy Anniversary. This collection is for you.”
The audience burst into applause — and a few tears.
Backstage, Taehyung slipped an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, watching his parents bow gracefully with shy smiles on the runway.
“They’re proud of you,” he whispered. “And so am I.”
Jungkook’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I just wanted them to feel as loved as they made me feel my whole life.”
Taehyung kissed the top of his head. “You did that. You always do.”
As the event’s signature logo illuminated behind the stage, the host’s voice rang out:
“And now, for the first time ever, the elusive founder and creative genius behind KJ Labels… please welcome, KJ himself.”
The room stilled.
Whispers surged.
Every neck craned.
And from the side entrance, he walked in.
Jungkook, dressed in a sharp black velvet suit tailored perfectly to his toned frame, with satin lapels and a delicate silver embroidery of phoenix wings running from shoulder to wrist. His face was shadowed, thanks to the meticulously planned lighting that poured from above and behind — framing his silhouette in a halo, but leaving his features hidden under soft darkness.
The lights were no accident. Every beam, every angle, was designed to cloak and reveal only what he allowed — his posture, his elegance, his sheer magnetism.
Only those who already knew him would recognize him. To others, he was a myth made flesh — striking, commanding, and untouchable.
Cameras flashed, but only the official KJ photographers stood around the perimeter. Every guest had been informed ahead of time — no personal photography allowed during the event. KJ was known for being private but generous. Exclusive, yet heartfelt. Not a single image, not one video, would leave this building without Jungkook’s direct approval.
He took his place at the centre of the stage, golden lights trailing behind him like sunrays.
Clearing his throat, Jungkook spoke — his voice soft but steady, echoing through the hall.
“Tonight… was not just about fabric and fashion. It was about stories. About love that survives decades, traditions that carry generations, and hearts that beat together despite time or distance. Every gown and suit you saw today held a soul — of the person it was made for, and the love it was born from.”
“I thank each of you for being here. For honouring the stories that live in every stitch. And to those who inspire me daily and worked just as hard as me, or even more — my family, parents, friends, PJ staff…”
His voice caught for just a second. “This is for you. Happy anniversary, Mumma, dada.”
A soft gasp of emotion fluttered through the guests again. There, in the spotlight — he gave the most private piece of himself while still keeping his mystery intact. No name. No full face. Just his heart.
Jungkook bowed low, the hem of his coat fluttering behind him like raven feathers.
“This concludes KJ Labels' Eternal Vow Collection Launch.”
The lights dimmed.
The hall rose to a standing ovation.
And as Jungkook walked offstage, vanishing into the soft shadows behind the curtains, he was no longer just a hidden designer —
He was a legend in the making.
------------
The mansion was warm and serene when Mr. and Mrs. Kim returned, the soft golden lights welcoming them home after a grand day. Taehyung walked with them, calm and careful, holding onto their hands as they stepped inside. Jungkook had stayed back at the venue, tying up final logistics and closing conversations with the press and designers.
The elder couple moved toward their room, tired yet glowing with joy. Once inside, they sat together on the sofa near the window. Mr. Kim gently placed his arm around his wife, both of them still smiling about the magical evening.
“We really walked the ramp,” Mrs. Kim chuckled softly, the disbelief still fresh in her voice.
Mr. Kim grinned, leaning back with a twinkle in his eyes. “You looked so beautiful, I felt like proposing to you all over again, right there under the spotlight.”
They laughed together—genuine, sweet, and full of warmth. But soon the laughter faded into silence, and a single tear slipped from Mrs. Kim’s eye.
“If only the last piece of our family had been with us…” she whispered, the ache surfacing in her voice like a tide that refused to stay buried.
Mr. Kim reached out and wiped her tear with the pad of his thumb. He pulled her into a comforting embrace, resting his chin gently atop her head.
“He would’ve been proud of Jungkook,” Mr. Kim murmured. “Of what this family became, even with that empty space inside it…”
Outside their room, unknown to them, Taehyung stood still, a small velvet box in his hand — the gift he had planned to leave on their bedside table. But now, his fingers curled around it slowly, his heart tightening at the pain he had overheard. He didn't step inside.
He turned quietly and walked back down the corridor.
Once inside his study, Taehyung shut the door and picked up a hidden satellite phone from the safe drawer. His eyes, once soft, now held something steel-like behind them.
The call connected after a few rings.
Cut to: Unknown Location – Deep South Province
Far away from the shimmering cities and peaceful households, in a hidden underground facility tucked beneath a ruined fortress, the air was heavy — not just with dampness, but blood, a lot of hot crimson blood of those who showed the courage and disobeyed the 'King of underworld'.
Inside a locked chamber, metal chains clinked faintly as groans echoed from the corner. A man — broad, expressionless, with crimson-stained hands with a small knife between his fingers — stood tall.
His sleeves were rolled up. His boots, splattered.
His name was known only in whispers — "King."
He was not just king because he chooses that name to be know. He was king because he was a heir of the royal family that used to rule whole south Korea. His ancestors were rulers before the traditional way of a royal blood taking the throne as next ruler was left behind.
As royal blood, they still craved power, control and to fulfil that craving they entered underworld to réclame the throne and rule as king. 'KING OF UNDERWOLD'.
Slowly all royal family members existence was erased, they vanished with nothing left behind. And no one know where they really were. No one know they were still ruling. Not only south Korea, but whole Asia. The underground world, the dark side of whole Asia.
Before 'King', a captured traitor hung by the wrists, unconscious from pain, a silent witness to what happened to those who dared to cross him. One thing about the current underworld ruler was known by everyone. He was worse than all the previous rulers.
If they were cruel then the current king can't be described by any word present in the dictionary. And what he hated most was betrayal. That half dead traitor would have known better than betraying him.
A door creaked open.
Yeonjun, the right-hand man of king entered, calm as ice. He held a ringing satellite phone in his gloved hand.
“Your phone has been going off. Caller ID: ‘Moonlight.’ Thought you’d want to take it.”
The King’s eyes flickered with recognition. Wiping his blood-slicked hands on a cloth, he walked over and took the device. He answered with silence.
On the other end, A unmistakable deep and cold voice spoke a few clear words — deliberate, measured, and loaded.
The King listened. He never spoked much until it was necessary.
Soon he smirked. A bit playful but daring. “You’re the only one who dares to command me like that. Aren’t you afraid of dying, 'BROTHER'?”
Whatever he heard next made the smirk fade.
The King's expression hardened. He nodded once.
“Understood.” And he ended the call. He turned back toward the half-conscious spy and exhaled coldly. With a wave, he unlocked the latch to a side cage and released several small, squeaking creatures.
Rats.
Dozens of them.
He shut the heavy steel door behind him without another glance. The screams started seconds later.
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Taehyung stood alone in the study, staring at the moon through the glass windows. The velvet box still sat unopened on the desk beside him. It had a beautiful pair of rings which was chosen by him and Jungkook for elder couples' anniversary gift.
But a better gift can be given to them. Something they are longing for but can't ask.
Whatever storm was brewing, whatever pain the past still held — he knew the final piece of their family’s puzzle was still out there. That final piece could be a gift their parent's will remember their whole life. A presence that will reveal a lot of buried secrets and will change things forever.
And soon…
It would come home.