[Dark Cell - Scene Begins]

The room is barely lit, a dim bulb sways, casting shifting shadows across the rough walls. In the corner, a man crouches, knees drawn to his chest, rocking back and forth.

His voice is low, cracked, almost a whisper, but filled with chilling intent. The silence of the cell is interrupted by his soft murmurs, as if he's speaking to someone unseen, someone only he knows exists.

His eyes are wild, pupils dilated as he stares into the nothingness.

---

“She thinks she’s safe...”

He lets out a soft, deranged chuckle, fingers tracing imaginary lines in the air.

“She’s not safe... not from me.”

His lips curl into a twisted smile, teeth bared, as though savoring a thought.

“Does he kiss her? Does he hold her tight? Does he know... what I would do to her?”

His hands flex, knuckles cracking, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

“I’ll make her remember. Make her scream my name.”

He rocks a little faster now, eyes dark, voice rising in intensity, but still eerily calm.

“She used to look at me... like that. I saw it... I felt it. She’ll come back.”

He tilts his head, staring at the dark corner of the cell, as if the walls themselves are listening.

“No one can keep her from me. Not even him. Not... her precious husband.”

His laugh grows, the sound grating, unhinged, bouncing off the cell walls.

“She’ll crawl back. She’ll beg.”

His voice lowers to a hushed whisper, dangerous.

“And when she does, I’ll take what’s mine. I’ll take... everything.”

His eyes flicker with a sinister gleam, the smile vanishing into a tight-lipped smirk.

“Y/n...”

He draws her name out slowly, savoring every syllable.

“Y/n... you’ll be mine...”

He pauses, tilting his head again, as though listening to something only he can hear. His voice turns soft, almost tender.

“Soon.”

He laughs one last time, dark and chilling, before his voice drops to a final, muttered whisper.

“Soon, Hyunjin will come for you.”

--

[Seoul - Jeon's House]

[Y/N'S POV]

"You'll come to me soon, right darling?"

I stood by the door, my voice barely a whisper as I watched Jungkook finish packing his last bag. His tall figure moved around the room, but I couldn’t shake the heaviness settling in my chest. Two weeks. Two whole weeks without him.

He turned to face me, his soft eyes already filled with the same sadness I was trying to hide. He came over, cupping my face gently. “Of course, baby. I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone.”

I tried to smile, but it felt weak. “That’s what you always say.”

“And I always come back, don’t I?” He grinned, leaning in to kiss me, but just as his lips were about to meet mine, a small voice piped up.

“No kiss! Mamma’s mine!”

I glanced down to see our little eight-year-old Sage tugging at Jungkook’s pant leg, his eyes big and filled with jealousy. He had his little fists balled up, lips puffed in that familiar pout.

“Sage, we talked about this…” I began, but Jungkook crouched down, mimicking his pout.

“Excuse me, young man,” Jungkook said, lowering his voice into a deep growl, playful but challenging. “Mamma was mine first!”

Sage’s bottom lip quivered in defiance. “Nooo, Mamma’s mine forever!” He reached up and wrapped his small arms around my legs, clinging onto me like a lifeline.

“You go away, Papa!”

Jungkook pretended to gasp in horror, his eyes widening dramatically. “Go away? I’m just trying to give Mamma a goodbye kiss, little man!”

“Nooooo!” Sage wailed, squeezing me tighter. “No kiss!”

I couldn’t help but giggle as Jungkook started arguing with our son like they were the same age.

“But Mamma is my princess,” Jungkook said, sticking out his bottom lip.

“She’s my queen!” Sage retorted, looking back at Jungkook with as much fierceness as an eight-year-old could muster.

“Then who am I?” Jungkook asked, a hand on his chest in mock offense.

Sage blinked, pausing for a moment, then said, “You’re just Papa.”

“Just Papa?” Jungkook feigned hurt, clutching his chest as if Sage had pierced his heart. “I see how it is. After all the snacks I give you? After all the airplane rides? That’s the thanks I get?”

Sage, now sensing victory, straightened up, folding his arms across his chest with a triumphant grin. “Mamma gives me cookies! And she lets me stay up late!”

I stifled a laugh, watching the two of them squabble like they were the same age. Before Jungkook could reply, another small voice chimed in.

“Papa! Kiss!”

Ruis, our five-year-old, stood at the side, her chubby arms reaching up towards Jungkook. She was watching the whole scene with big eyes, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. Before Jungkook could say anything, she leaned forward from my arms and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Jungkook immediately melted, all his playful defiance crumbling in an instant. “Ruis, my sweet baby,” he cooed, lifting her into his arms. “You know how to make Papa’s day, don’t you?”

Ruis giggled, clinging to his neck. “Papa’s girl!”

“That’s right,” Jungkook said, peppering her with soft kisses. “Always Papa’s girl.”

Sage, still clutching onto my leg, wasn’t having it. “Noooo! Mamma’s better!”

Ruis stuck her tongue out at her brother from her safe spot in Jungkook’s arms. “Papa’s better!”

The back-and-forth began again, both kids listing reasons why their chosen parent was superior.

“Mamma reads me stories!” Sage said, his little chest puffing out.

“Papa swings me high!” Ruis countered, her eyes twinkling.

“Mamma smells like cookies!” Sage said, nuzzling into me.

“Papa smells like strong,” Ruis replied, snuggling into Jungkook’s shoulder.

It was only a matter of time before things escalated. Sage, feeling particularly competitive, reached out and gave Ruis’s ponytail a little tug.

“Ahh! Mamma!” Ruis yelped, clutching her head as her face scrunched up in pain.

“Sage!” I quickly scooped him up and out of harm’s way, my voice firm but calm. “We don’t pull hair, sweetie. That’s not nice.”

Sage’s lower lip wobbled as he realized what he’d done. “S-sowwy,” he mumbled, his voice small and guilty.

Jungkook knelt down beside Ruis, wiping her tears gently. “It’s okay, baby girl. Your brother didn’t mean it, did you, Sage?”

Sage shook his head rapidly, his eyes wide with regret. “No, no, no! I sowwy, Ruis.”

Ruis, though still upset, crossed her arms and looked at him with a pout. “No snacks for you!” she declared, her tiny foot stomping the floor for emphasis.

Sage’s face paled at the threat. “Nooo! Not my snacks! I’ll do anything!”

“That’s your punishment,” Ruis said, sticking out her tongue again. “No snacks for being a bad boy!”

Sage was about to protest further, but then his eyes lit up with jealousy . “That’s why I love Christie more than you!”

At the mention of Christie, Yoongi and Hoseok’s daughter, Jungkook and I exchanged knowing looks.

Sage had developed quite the crush on her recently.

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Sage, buddy, you can’t love someone more just because they don’t take your snacks.”

“But Christie doesn’t pull my hair!” Sage pouted.

Jungkook laughed softly, pulling Sage into his lap. “Listen, Sage. Ruis is your sister. You’ve got to love her no matter what, okay?”

Sage blinked up at him, confused. “Why, Papa?”

Jungkook thought for a moment, then smiled softly. “Because sisters are special. You know what happens when you have a sister? You get to be her protector. You get to keep her safe.”

Sage looked interested now, his little face scrunching up in thought. “Safe from what?”

“From everything,” Jungkook said seriously, his voice gentle. “Monsters, bad dreams, bullies. You’ll be her hero.”

Sage’s eyes sparkled. “Like a superhero?”

“Exactly like a superhero,” Jungkook nodded, holding out his pinky. “You promise?”

Sage hesitated for a second before linking his pinky with Jungkook’s. “I pwomise, Papa.”

But before Jungkook could pull away, Sage looked up at him with a grin. “But you gotta promise to protect Mamma too!”

Jungkook chuckled, his heart clearly melting. “Deal,” he said, linking his pinky with Sage’s once more.

“I promise to protect Mamma, no matter what.”

Sage looked satisfied, snuggling back into my arms as Ruis climbed back into Jungkook’s lap. For a moment, the four of us just sat there, the warmth of our little family filling the room.

But somewhere, far from this peaceful scene, darkness was brewing.

---

[Scene change : Mental hospital]

“I’ll hurt her,” a cold voice murmured, the sound barely above a whisper. In the dim light of a small, padded room, a figure sat hunched in the corner, rocking back and forth.

“I’ll hurt her… and I’ll destroy them. Every. Last. One.”

“You thought you could be safe from me, Y/n? You thought you could hide behind your husband and your perfect little life?”

His head tilted to the side, eyes staring into the dark nothingness of his cell. His grin grew wider, more twisted.

“No one can protect you from me. No one.”

---

[Y/n’s POV]

It’s been one week. One long, agonizing week of being in Seoul, waiting for Jungkook to call, to text—hell, even to drop a single emoji my way.

But there’s been nothing.

Total radio silence.

My stomach twists every time I glance at my phone, hoping to see his name flash across the screen, but it stays stubbornly blank.

This isn’t like him at all. Jungkook’s the kind of man who, no matter how busy he is, will always find a way to reach out. If he had five minutes between meetings, he’d call.

If he couldn’t call, he’d send a message. Even a voice note saying something ridiculous like, "Just checking if you ate today, my little one. Don't skip meals!"

But this?

Nothing. It’s like he’s disappeared.

I’ve been spending my days with Sage and Ruis, trying to keep things normal for them. But no matter how much I focus on them, no matter how much they giggle or fight over who gets the last cookie, there’s an empty space where Jungkook should be.

And every time Sage asks, "When’s Papa coming home?" I can barely keep the panic from my voice when I say, "Soon, sweetheart."

But it’s not soon. It’s been two whole weeks now, and the fear that something’s terribly wrong is gnawing at me.

My calls go unanswered, messages left unread.

He’s never done this before.

Ever.

By the time the second week passes, I can’t take it anymore. With his parents, Mirae and Jaehwa, we decide to reach out to Google.

There’s no other option.

I can’t sit here wondering what’s happening, imagining the worst.

Getting information from Google was harder than expected. They kept putting us on hold, bouncing us between departments, taking their sweet time to process our request.

But finally, after what felt like hours, they give us the information we need.

The shock hits like a punch to the gut.

Jungkook had applied for a permanent transfer to Washington, D.C.

What?

I couldn’t believe it. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of it.

A transfer?

When? Why?

How could he make such a huge decision and not tell me?

And then, the kicker—his contact number had been changed.

Not just a temporary number for the trip, but a permanent one.

As if he had no intention of coming back home. No intention of coming back to me. To Ruis. To Sage. To us.

The pit in my stomach grew darker, heavier.

Why would he do this?

Mirae and Jaehwa looked just as blindsided as I was. This wasn’t the man we knew.

Jungkook was responsible.

He has proved to be responsible time and again. This was so uncharacteristic of him.

He would never make a decision like this without telling us. Without telling me.

We had to get more answers. So, we approached his Seoul office.

And that’s where I met her again.

Leila.

The moment I saw her blonde head bobbing behind her desk, my blood boiled. She hadn’t changed a bit—still clinging to her hideous sense of style like it was some kind of personal mission.

French nails that could probably cut glass, too-tight dress in some neon color that hurt my eyes, and makeup caked on thick enough to survive a hurricane.

And her attitude?

Even worse.

“Well, well, well,” she drawled, flashing me a smirk as she saw me approach. “Look who’s come crawling all the way to the office to find her runaway husband.”

I bit my tongue, trying not to snap. She’d always been like this, ever since the first time I met her—always dropping little digs about Jungkook, acting like she had some insider knowledge no one else did.

Pathetic.

“I’m here for some information,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Not to listen to whatever delusions you’ve cooked up.”

Leila’s smirk widened as she stood up, crossing her arms over her chest like she had the upper hand. “Delusions? Honey, I don’t need to make anything up. It’s all there in the paperwork. Your man’s settled in the Washington D C. Permanent transfer, new number, new address…”

She gave a fake pout, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “Maybe he’s finally found himself a prettier little thing, huh? You know how colorful Jungkook can be. I warned you a decade ago.”

My nails dug into my palm as I forced a smile. “Leila, you’ve been obsessed with Jungkook for the last ten years. Still can’t move on, can you?”

She bristled, her eyes narrowing, but I wasn’t done.

“Still the same desperate blonde, huh? You’ve really perfected the whole ‘tragic midlife crisis Barbie’ look. Must be tough not being able to land a decent guy after all these years.”

Leila’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, I thought she was going to snap. But instead, she just flipped her hair and sneered.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Well, let’s see how clever you feel when you realize he’s gone for good. Men like Jungkook don’t stick around forever. I bet he’s got a younger, hotter thing waiting for him right now. That’s just what he does, Y/n. You should’ve seen this coming.”

I rolled my eyes, done with her nonsense. “Leila, if Jungkook had half the interest in you that you think he does, you wouldn’t be running your mouth like this. But it’s cute, really, watching you try.”

Her face flushed red, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to regain her composure. “Just wait,” she spat.

“He’s not who you think he is. Men don’t change. And someone like him? He’s just too good for you, honey.”

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a once-over. “And you think you were ever an option? Please. Your nails are as fake as your rumors.”

Her jaw clenched, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked off, probably to find someone else to gossip with.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. Same old Leila. Same old jealousy, same old bitterness. Ten years, and she still hadn’t changed a bit.

Pathetic.

But as much as I hated her, I couldn’t ignore the pit in my stomach. No. Jungkook wouldn’t do that.

He wouldn’t.

Would he?

I needed answers. Real answers. And Washington D.C. was where I was going to get them.

-----

The hum of the airplane droned softly in the background, but it did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me.

My heart thudded painfully as I stared at the small faces of Sage and Ruis, sitting beside me, their little heads leaning against each other as they slept. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

Sage had been asking about his papa ever since we boarded the flight. His big eyes, usually so full of life, were now clouded with confusion and sadness. Every time he asked why his papa had left, it was like a dagger in my chest. I didn’t have answers for him, for any of us.

Beside me, Mirae and Jaehwa were quiet, their expressions mirroring my own turmoil. They were disappointed, of course.

Their golden boy, Jungkook, had always been the responsible one. Never once had they expected him to vanish like this, to put his family through this agony. But this wasn’t him. I knew Jungkook.

There had to be an explanation. There had to be.

I was just about to close my eyes, hoping for a brief moment of peace, when I felt a tug at my sleeve. Sage, wide awake now, was staring up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“Mamma,” he whispered, his little voice trembling. “Why papa not come back? Sage-ie miss papa. Did… did he forget about me?”

My throat tightened as I pulled him into my arms. “Oh, baby, no. Papa could never forget about you. He loves you so much.”

“But,” Sage sniffled, his small fists rubbing at his eyes, “Papa promised… he promised he’d come back. He said Sage-ie is strong and have to protect Ruis… but he didn’t come back. Mamma, is papa mad at Sage-ie?”

The tears welled up in his eyes, and before I could comfort him, he leaned over and started shaking Ruis, who was still asleep in her seat.

“Ruis, wake up! Why papa leave us? Wake up!”

“Shh, baby, don’t wake her,” I murmured, gently pulling him back as I cradled him close. His tiny sobs wracked his body, and I felt my heart breaking in two.

“Papa isn’t mad, sweetheart. He’ll be back soon. He just had to go somewhere important.”

“But why?” Sage looked up at me, his eyes so full of confusion. “Why he leave us?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I didn’t have the answers he needed.

All I could do was hold him tighter, kissing the top of his head as I whispered, “It’s going to be okay, baby. Everything will be okay.”

Jaehwa, sitting next to me, sighed softly as he watched the scene unfold. “He’s too young to understand,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“We all are clueless about Jungkook, too.”

Mirae reached over, placing a gentle hand on Sage’s back as she looked at me with a sad smile. “He’s just like his papa. Stubborn and full of questions.”

I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah. Just like Jungkook.”

Sage eventually calmed down, his small body curling against mine as he drifted back to sleep. I watched him for a moment, brushing his dark hair from his face, before turning to Mirae and Jaehwa.

“You both look worried,” I said softly, not wanting to wake the kids.

Mirae sighed, glancing out of the airplane window. “We are. This… this isn’t the son we know. Jungkook would never do something like this. He’s always been so responsible, so dedicated to his family. It’s like he’s become someone else.”

Jaehwa nodded, his arms crossed over his chest. “Disappearing without a word? Changing his number, transferring without telling us? It’s… it’s unacceptable.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, feeling a mixture of anger and heartache. They were right—this wasn’t like Jungkook.

But there was something gnawing at me, something telling me that we were missing a piece of the puzzle.

“I know it looks bad,” I admitted, “but we can’t jump to conclusions. We’ve misjudged Jungkook before, and we can’t afford to do that again. There has to be a reason for all of this. I just… I just don’t know what it is yet.”

Mirae’s eyes softened as she reached over, squeezing my hand. “You’ve always believed in him, Y/n. We just hope that you’re right this time.”

Jaehwa sighed, shaking his head. “Even so, it doesn’t make what he’s doing acceptable. Leaving you and the kids like this… it’s wrong.”

I nodded, knowing that I couldn’t argue with that. It was wrong. But until I knew the full story, I couldn’t bring myself to think that Jungkook had abandoned us.

Not him.

Not the man I loved.

As the plane finally began its descent, I felt a knot of anxiety settle in my stomach. We were about to face whatever awaited us in Washington D.C., and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answers we might find.

The address we’d been given was nothing short of jaw-dropping. A lavish, sprawling mansion in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in D.C.

I stared out of the car window, my heart pounding as we approached the gates.

How could Jungkook afford something like this?

How could we?

We weren’t from money. This wasn’t our world.

The large gates swung open as our car pulled up, and my jaw nearly dropped as I saw what was happening inside.

A massive, high-class party was in full swing — expensive cars lined the driveway, and well-dressed people sipped champagne and laughed under the golden lights. The whole scene was surreal.

“This can’t be right,” I muttered, glancing at Mirae and Jaehwa, who looked just as confused as I felt. “Why would Jungkook…?”

I didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. Nothing about this made sense.

The mansion itself was enormous, a stunning display of wealth that made me feel like I was in the wrong place. But then I saw the sign board at the front of the mansion.

The Jeons.

My heart dropped. This was it. This was Jungkook’s house.

But how? Why? And more importantly—who was he hosting this party for?

We stepped out of the car, my nerves on edge as we approached the front entrance. Two security guards in sharp suits stood by the door, and as we neared, they stepped forward.

“Invitation?” one of them asked, looking us up and down like we didn’t belong.

I frowned, confusion clouding my thoughts. “Invitation? No, we’re not here for the party. I got this address from Google company. This is the residence of my husband, Jeon Jungkook.”

The guards exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

“Your husband? Jeon Jungkook? Sure, if that is so, then I’m Justin Bieber.”

I blinked, feeling a flash of irritation. “I’m serious. This is my husband’s house.”

One of the guards smirked, crossing his arms. “Lady, if Jeon Jungkook is your husband, then I’m the King of England. Now, unless you’ve got an invitation to our madam’s birthday party, I suggest you turn around and leave.”

Mirae stepped forward, her face tight with anger. “How dare you speak to her like that? We’re his parents. We’re here to see our son.”

The guards’ laughter only grew louder. “Oh, you’re his parents now? What, did you rise from the grave or something? Master Jeon’s parents have been dead for years.”

Jaehwa’s eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, little Ruis woke up from her nap, her big eyes staring up at the guards.

“How dare you talk to my grannie and granolla like that!” she pouted, her tiny fists balled up in defiance. “Where’s my daddy?”

The guards exchanged amused glances before turning back to us, their smirks widening. “Enough with the drama. You’re not fooling anyone. Master Jeon and his madam won’t waste their time with cheap people like you. Now get out before we have to make you.”

I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm as I took a step forward. “Listen—”

But every time I tried to speak, they cut me off, talking over me, mocking us like we were some kind of joke. “What, you think you can just waltz in here and claim you’re family? Please. Master Jeon has no time for trash like you.”

“Leave,” the other guard added, his tone growing colder. “You’re not welcome here.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but the words wouldn’t come. My mind was spinning. This didn’t make any sense. None of this made sense.

Jungkook—my Jungkook—had never mentioned anything like this. He would never host some lavish party and ignore his family. He would never—

But then, why had he left? Why hadn’t he contacted us?

My heart ached as I glanced down at Sage and Ruis, both of them looking so small and confused. What was happening?

Where was my husband?

I don’t know how it escalated so quickly.

One moment, I was pleading with the guards, my voice shaking as I tried to make them understand.

“Please, just let me see Jungkook. Just one minute—he’s my husband!” But they weren’t having it. Their eyes, full of suspicion, hardened as they grabbed me by the arm, roughly pulling me back.

“No entry. I said leave,” the taller one growled, his grip tight enough to make me wince.

I stumbled, trying to keep my balance, my heart racing as I looked back at Mirae and Jaehwa.

Mirae was clutching Ruis and Sage close to her, her face pale with fear. Jaehwa, on the other hand, was trying his best to push the guard off me, but he was getting shoved around too, like we were nothing. Like we didn’t matter.

"Get your hands off her!" Jaehwa barked, trying to step between me and the guard. But the guy shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back.

“Stop, please! Just let us in! We’re family!” My voice cracked as I felt the pressure on my arm intensify, the guard twisting it just enough to hurt. Panic set in as I pleaded with them again, desperate for them to stop.

But they didn’t stop. Instead, they tightened their hold on me, practically dragging me backward. “You heard what we said. Leave, or we’ll make you.”

I was about to scream, about to fight, when a voice cut through the tension, sharp and authoritative.

"David!"

Everything froze. The guards’ hands loosened from my arm as their heads snapped towards the source of the voice.

My heart, already pounding in my chest, nearly stopped as I turned to see who had called out.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook.

My husband.

Emerging from behind the crowd, dressed in an immaculate black

suit, a glass of champagne in his hand, he looked like someone straight out of a movie.

The party behind him went dead quiet, all eyes now fixed on the man of the hour.

My breath hitched as our eyes locked. I could barely process what I was seeing. This was the Jungkook I knew—yet at the same time, he was someone entirely different.

The suit, the glass of champagne, the confident, detached air about him. This wasn’t my Jungkook. This wasn’t the man who had held me close, whispered sweet nothings in my ear, promised to always be there for our kids.

He looked so cold.

“What’s going on here?” Jungkook asked, his voice casual, as if this entire situation was just a minor inconvenience. He took another step closer, his dark eyes scanning the scene before landing on the guards.

“They’re frauds, sir,” one of the guards, David, spoke up, standing a little straighter. “Trying to force their way in, claiming they’re family.”

Sage, who had been watching everything from Mirae’s arms, suddenly wiggled free and bolted towards Jungkook. “Papa! Papa up, up!” he giggled, his tiny arms reaching up towards him.

I froze, watching in horror as Jungkook looked down at his own son—and didn’t recognize him.

He blinked, taking a small step back as if Sage was a stranger. “Uh… kid, back off.”

Sage’s smile faltered, his little face scrunching up in confusion as he reached out again.

“Papa?”

But Jungkook only shook his head, looking more confused than anything. Before I could move, before I could even process what was happening, a shrill voice pierced through the air.

“What’s going on here?”

I felt my heart sink as I recognized that voice.

Rim.

Of all people.

The one woman who I’d prayed I’d never have to see again.

My chest tightened as she strutted over, her face twisted in annoyance, her eyes landing on Sage first with disdain. “Who let that kid in here?”

Rim’s voice was sharp and cruel, the way it had always been. “Get him away before he breaks something.”

I could feel the rage boiling up inside me as she flicked her hand towards Sage like he was some kind of pest. But what made it worse—what made my blood turn cold—was the way Jungkook looked at her.

Softly.

Like he cared.

“Rim, darling” Jungkook said gently, placing a hand on her waist, “don’t talk to the kid like that. He’s just a child.”

Rim pouted, leaning into him, her bright red nails curling around his arm as she looked up at him. “Fine, whatever.” She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her champagne, acting like this was some casual inconvenience.

I felt like I was going to be sick. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

“Jungkook…” My voice barely came out as a whisper as I took a step forward, Ruis still fast asleep in my arms. “It’s me. It’s Y/n. These are your kids. Sage… Ruis…”

Jungkook’s expression remained blank as he looked at me. There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes. Nothing. He looked at me like I was a stranger. A complete stranger.

Mirae and Jaehwa, who had been frozen in shock, suddenly stepped forward, Mirae’s voice trembling with anger.

“Jungkook, what is the meaning of this? Why are you treating us like this? We’re your family!”

But Jungkook’s face hardened. His eyes, which had softened for a split second when he looked at me, turned cold again.

“Watch your tone, ma'am.” he snapped, his voice icy. “This is my property, and you’re not welcome here. I won’t tolerate anyone raising their voice at me in my own house.”

I felt my knees go weak as his words hit me like a slap. This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

And then Rim, that vile woman, stepped closer to Jungkook, her eyes locking onto me with a smirk. She leaned in close, whispering something in his ear.

“These are the people I told you about,” Rim said, loud enough for all of us to hear. “The shady ones. They’ve been harassing me, making my life miserable for years. They’re probably here to cause more trouble.”

Jungkook’s face darkened as he turned back to us. “So this is them?” His eyes scanned over me, Mirae, Jaehwa, and finally the two kids. “These are the people who tortured my wife?”

Wife.

My heart shattered into a million pieces as the word left his lips.

Wife.

He was talking about Rim.

He wasn’t talking about me.

“No… no, that’s not…” My voice broke as I took another step forward, desperation clawing at my throat.

“Jungkook, please. I’m your wife. Sage and Ruis are your kids. We… we have a family. You can’t just forget about us like this.”

But he just stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “I don’t know who you are,” he said coldly. “And I don’t care. Whatever game you’re playing, it ends now. Leave, or I’ll have you thrown out.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

My entire world was collapsing around me as I stared at the man I loved—the man who was supposed to be the father of my children—and he looked at me with nothing but disgust.

“Jungkook, please…” I whispered, my voice shaking as I reached out towards him.

“I’m your wife. Don't you know me.....Your little one.”

For a split second, his eyes softened again.

Just for a moment.

But then Rim’s hand tightened around his arm, and the softness disappeared, replaced by cold indifference.

“I said, leave,” he repeated, his voice like ice. And then he turned, guiding Rim back towards the party, leaving me standing there, shattered and broken, with nothing but questions and heartache.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

I couldn’t let this end like this. Not with him looking at me like I was nothing. Not with my heart shattering into pieces while he walked away with her. I wasn’t going to lose Jungkook. Not like this.

As the guards started moving around, trying to hush the guests who were beginning to stare, I saw my chance. The distraction was perfect—everyone was too busy with the commotion to notice me.

My feet moved before I could think, and I ran straight for him. The world around me blurred, and all I could focus on was the sight of Jungkook’s back in front of me.

Without thinking, I grabbed him from behind, my arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him close, like if I held on tightly enough, I could bring him back.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered, my voice shaky, desperate, barely able to hold back the tears. “It’s me, Jungkook… Your little one… Your candy…”

For a moment—just for a moment—he froze. I could feel his body stiffen under my touch, and his breath hitched, like something inside him was stirring.

He inhaled deeply, his chest rising under my arms, as if my scent was doing something to him, breaking through whatever wall had been built between us. I could feel it—the connection we once had, the bond that had always been unbreakable.

But before anything more could happen, before I could even savor that flicker of hope, she was there.

Rim.

With a vicious snarl, she grabbed my arm and yanked me back so hard, I stumbled and fell, hitting the ground with a thud.

Pain shot through me as I landed on my side, the impact sending a sharp ache through my ribs. I winced, clutching at my side as I tried to push myself up.

“You bitch!” Rim spat, standing over me with that smug, disgusted look on her face.

“Wasn’t torturing me enough? You’ve come here again to ruin everything! With your godforsaken bastard children—”

That was it.

My blood boiled.

How dare she?

How dare she call my children bastards?

I didn’t think. I didn’t care. I just reacted.

My leg shot out, kicking hers out from under her. Rim yelped as she stumbled forward, falling flat on her face. The mud and dirt from the garden splattered all over her perfectly polished dress, covering her face in filth.

I stood up, ignoring the pain in my side, and looked down at her with a smirk. “That’s what you get for calling my kids bastards. Say it again, and next time you’ll be eating mud and shitting it.”

Rim’s face twisted in rage, but before she could even get up, Jungkook was on me. His hand wrapped around my arm like a vice, pulling me to him with such force that I nearly lost my balance again.

My chest collided with his, our bodies pressed together, but there was nothing tender about it. His grip was firm, almost painful, his eyes blazing with anger as he glared down at me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down my spine. I had seen Jungkook angry before, but never like this.

Never this cold, this foreign.

“You don’t get to touch her. You don’t ever get to lay a hand on my wife.”

The words cut me deep, like a knife slicing through my heart. I could barely breathe as I looked up at him, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Jungkook, please,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What happened to you? How can you not remember us? It’s me… us. You and me. Our family. You—”

“I don’t remember anything about you,” he cut me off, his grip on my arm tightening, making me wince.

“I don’t care who you think you are, but you’re not my wife. You’re just some crazy woman who’s harassing my real wife.”

Rim had finally managed to get up, her face smeared with mud, her dress a mess. She glared at me, but her lips curled into a smug smile as she wiped the dirt off her cheek.

“Look at you,” she sneered. “Pathetic. You still can’t accept it, can you? You’re nothing.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They spilled over, rolling down my cheeks as I looked up at Jungkook. “Please, Jungkook,” I begged, my voice cracking.

“We’ve been through everything together. You loved me. You still love me. I know you do. This isn’t you. This isn’t the man I married. Please, just remember—”

He shook his head, his expression hardening even more. “I don’t know what kind of delusion you’re living in, but I don’t have time for this bullshit. I don’t know you. I don’t care about you. And if you ever come near Rim again, if you ever try to hurt her—”

“Hurt her?” I gasped, pulling back from his grip but still locked in his arms, the disbelief so overwhelming it made my head spin. “Jungkook, she raped you. She destroyed us. And now you’re calling her your wife?”

Jungkook’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as his grip on me grew even more possessive, pulling me closer until I could feel his breath against my face. “I don’t know what twisted stories you’re trying to spin,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “but if I find out you’ve been spreading lies about my wife, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Lies?” I choked out, staring at him in disbelief. “Jungkook, how can you say that? She—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted, his voice growing colder with every word. “I don’t care what you think happened. All I care about is her. Rim is my wife. And if you touch her again, if you even look at her the wrong way, I will make sure you disappear.”

My heart felt like it was being torn apart, ripped into pieces as I stood there, pressed against the man I had loved for so many years, the father of my children, and heard him talk to me like I was nothing.

Like I was a threat.

“You’ve gone too far this time,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom.

“I’ve been patient. I’ve let you hang around, pretending you had some sort of connection to me, but it ends now. You’re nothing to me. You never were. I don’t know who you think you are, coming here with your lies and your games, but it ends now.”

I could feel the tears burning down my face, my body trembling as I tried to find the right words, but nothing was coming out. I was speechless. I was devastated.

Jungkook’s grip tightened one last time before he shoved me back, hard enough that I stumbled, barely catching myself before falling again.

“Get inside the house, I need to deal with this clown family myself. Get in” he growled.

“Before I call the cops.”

I looked at him, my vision blurred with tears, my heart in pieces. “Jungkook, please…” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “We’re your family…”

“I don’t have a family,” he spat. “I have a wife. And you’re not her.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. All the air left my lungs as I stumbled back, feeling as though the ground had been ripped out from under me.

I stared at him, the man I had loved, the man who had been everything to me, and I didn’t recognize him anymore.

He didn’t recognize me anymore.

“No!” Rim's voice broke through the air, sharp and desperate, clinging onto Jungkook like a leech. She fake-shivered, wrapping herself around him, as if trying to hide behind his strength. “Baby, throw them out! Don’t let them in! They’re nothing but trouble! Please, Jungkook, throw them out—now.”

But Jungkook didn’t listen to her. He didn’t even glance her way as he stared at me and my family, his jaw tight, his eyes hard. “I’ll deal with them in my own way,” he said, his voice calm, so calm it sent a chill down my spine. His tone was flat, emotionless. Like I didn’t matter. Like we didn’t matter.

Rim’s face contorted in frustration, her fake calm breaking as she tried to pull his attention back to her. “Jungkook, please,” she whined, her voice grating, aggressive now. She clawed at him, desperate to pull him away from us. “Throw them out! This is my birthday! Don’t let them ruin it! Don’t let her ruin it!”

But this time, Jungkook turned to her. His hands came up, cupping her face, holding her gently between his palms, and something inside me cracked, shattered as I watched. “Rim, calm down,” he whispered, his voice soft, affectionate—too affectionate. He looked at her like she was his whole world, like she was the only person who mattered. “It’s your birthday. I won’t let anything destroy it, okay?”

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to throw up.

My heart felt like it was being ripped apart inside my chest, piece by piece, as his words sank in.

He was calming her.

He was holding her like she was the one who needed protecting, like she was the one who mattered. He didn’t even look at me, not once. It was like I didn’t exist.

And then he kissed her.

Right in front of me.

His lips crashed onto hers, sealing every ounce of my hope, my love, my everything under the weight of their kiss.

I felt the world drop away from beneath my feet, like I was falling into a bottomless pit and there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to break the fall.

He kissed her with so much tenderness, so much care, his hands still holding her face as if she were something fragile, something precious. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, like he was memorizing every inch of her skin, every part of her. It was the way he used to kiss me. It was the way he used to look at me.

But now, it was her.

My breath hitched in my throat, choking me, as I watched their lips move together, as Rim melted into his embrace, her hands tangling in his hair, deepening the kiss.

It felt like knives stabbing into my heart over and over again, each second they stayed connected.

My whole body trembled, my knees weak, my mind screaming for me to look away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen, trapped in the devastation of seeing the man I loved kiss the woman who had ruined our lives.

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some sick, twisted nightmare.

Any second now, I’d wake up. I’d wake up, and Jungkook would be beside me, holding me, kissing me. Not her.

But the longer I stood there, the longer I watched him pour everything into that kiss, the more I realized that this wasn’t a dream.

This was my reality. My nightmare. He had forgotten me. He had forgotten us.

I felt my vision blur, the tears finally spilling over, streaming down my face as I clutched Sage tighter in my arms, who looked at his papa with the most pained eyes ever.

My chest ached, like it was about to split open from the sheer weight of my heartbreak. My head spun, dizzy with disbelief, pain, anger.

How could he do this? How could he kiss her? After everything? After all we went through?

“Jungkook…” I whispered, my voice so quiet, so broken, I wasn’t even sure if I had said it out loud. But he didn’t hear me. He didn’t see me. He was too wrapped up in her, too wrapped up in the life he had chosen to live without me. Without us.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to shout and punch and demand that he remember me, that he remember us. But all I could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the man I loved kissed the woman who had destroyed our lives.

When they finally pulled apart, Rim’s face was smug, her eyes glinting with victory as she looked over at me, a satisfied smirk curling her lips. She had won. She had him now, and she knew it.

I was nothing. I was no one to him now.

And it was killing me.