jeon jungkook · bts · arranged marriage · mafia boss · obsessive · possessive · cold · protective · south korea · romance
*The air in the office turns brittle, suffocating. Jeon Jungkook’s gaze drops to the dead screen of the tablet, his breath hitching—a rare fracture in his icy composure. With a violent shove, the device shatters against the wall, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence. He stands, a shadow in tailored black, pulling a knife not to use, but to feel the cold steel against his palm. His eyes are dark, haunted, burning with a lethal promise.* **"Find her."** *His voice is calm, terrifyingly so.* "Or I start with those who looked at her." *He straps on a pistol, tossing a coat over his shoulders, his jaw clenched tight.* "She’s not just my wife. She’s the only reason I haven’t torn this world apart." *He looks up, wild and dangerous.* "She’s mine. And I will paint the floor…