The dimly lit penthouse loomed around me, suffocating and lavish in equal measure. The city outside was alive—neon lights flickering, distant sirens wailing—but inside these four walls, I was trapped in a world of pure, inescapable darkness.
Kim Taehyung sat across from me, one leg lazily crossed over the other, his sharp suit barely wrinkled despite the chaos that had unfolded just hours before. His dark eyes bore into mine with that same unreadable intensity—possessive, ruthless, and terrifyingly beautiful.
"You ran." His voice was velvet and steel, a promise laced with quiet wrath. "Again."
I swallowed hard. My wrists still ached from the tight grip of his men earlier, the reminder that no matter where I went, no matter how fast I ran, he would always find me.
"I had to," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Taehyung exhaled slowly, setting his crystal glass of whiskey down with a soft clink. The sound sent shivers through me, as if it carried the weight of his unspoken fury. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching me like a predator deciding whether to pounce.
"And yet here you are," he murmured, a smirk ghosting over his lips. "Right where you belong."
I clenched my fists. "You don't own me."
His laughter was quiet but dark, as if the very thought amused him beyond belief. "Oh, sweetheart." His voice dropped lower, the sound curling around me like silk and thorns. "I own everything. Including you."
I shook my head, but the fight in me wavered. Taehyung wasn't just a man. He was a storm, a force of nature. One that would never let me go, no matter how much I resisted.
He rose from his seat, his towering frame closing the distance between us in mere seconds. My breath hitched as his fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were impossibly dark, a void of desire and something far more dangerous—obsession.
"You think I spent years building my empire only to lose you?" he whispered, his thumb brushing my lower lip. "You, who walked into my world like a wildfire and burned through my sanity?"
His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me exactly where I stood. Or rather, where he wanted me to stand—right at his feet.
I trembled, my body betraying me. "Taehyung—"
"Shh." He leaned closer, his breath fanning against my cheek. "You don't get to say my name like that. Not after what you did."
My heart pounded. "What did I do?"
His lips curved into a wicked smirk. "You made me lose control."
With a swift motion, he spun me around, pressing my back against his broad chest. My breath caught as I felt the sheer heat of his body, his hands caging me in as if daring me to move.
"You think you can run from me, but you don't understand, do you?" he murmured against my ear. "I need you. More than you could ever imagine."
A shudder ran through me. Taehyung's obsession wasn't just a passing infatuation—it was a hunger that could never be sated, a claim that would never be released.
I turned in his arms, my hands resting on his chest. I wanted to hate him, to despise the way he controlled every part of my life. But the worst part?
I didn't.
"Say it," he demanded, his fingers curling around my waist.
I swallowed hard. "Say what?"
His lips brushed against mine, the barest touch that left me dizzy. "That you're mine."
I wanted to fight, to scream that I belonged to no one. But as I stared into those burning eyes, I realized something terrifying.
I had been his from the very beginning.
A sharp knock at the door shattered the suffocating tension between us.
Taehyung didn't move, his gaze never wavering from mine as he called out, "Enter."
The door swung open, revealing Minho—one of Taehyung's most trusted men. His face was impassive, but the flicker of tension in his jaw told me something was wrong.
"Sir," Minho said, his voice clipped. "We've secured the men who helped her escape."
My stomach twisted. No.
I yanked away from Taehyung, spinning toward Minho. "Let them go! They didn't—"
"Didn't what?" Taehyung's voice was eerily calm. "Help you? Aid in your little attempt at freedom?"
"They don't deserve this," I pleaded, my nails digging into my palms. "They were just following orders—"
"My orders are the only ones that matter." Taehyung's voice was final. Cold.
Minho hesitated before stepping closer. "What should we do with them, sir?"
Taehyung didn't even look at him. His eyes remained on me, searching, waiting. Testing me.
"Kill them," he said.
I gasped. "No!"
I lunged forward, my hands gripping his suit jacket. "Taehyung, please. You don't have to do this."
His gaze darkened. "You think I let betrayals go unpunished?"
"They didn't betray you. I did," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Punish me, not them."
A heavy silence filled the room.
And then, Taehyung laughed. Low, dangerous.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers tilting my chin up. "You still don't understand, do you?"
I held my breath as his other hand reached into his pocket. A moment later, the sharp click of a blade echoed through the room.
My pulse stuttered.
"You think I'd ever let anyone else lay a hand on you?" He trailed the cold metal of the knife along my throat, not cutting—just enough to make my skin prickle. "If I punish you… I'll be the one to do it."
A shiver ran down my spine.
I knew Taehyung. Knew that his threats were never empty.
"Please," I whispered. "Just… let them go."
He studied me for a long moment before sighing. "Minho."
"Yes, sir?"
"Lock them up. For now."
Relief flooded me, though I knew it was temporary.
Minho gave a short nod before leaving, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
And then, it was just us again.
Taehyung's grip on my chin tightened. "You keep making me weak," he murmured.
I swallowed. "Then let me go."
His expression darkened. "Not a chance."
Before I could protest, he pulled me forward, his lips crashing against mine. It wasn't a kiss of love—it was raw, consuming, filled with possession. A warning and a claim all in one.
I melted against him, my fingers fisting his shirt, torn between resisting and surrendering.
And deep down, I knew…
I had already lost.
I was his.