Chapter Text
Jeon Sung had never before brought a man to a meet. Then, they’d neve rmet at a club before. The entire scene was unprecedented. Taehyung didn’t do unprecedented, but he was willing to make an exception because he was curious. He could sever the Busan connection if he had to. It would cause some shockwaves, but it wasn’t out of the question. Sung was beginning to annoy him anyway. His poor decisions were starting to affect the man. Such as bringing a twink like him to a meet with a man like Taehyung.
Something that was meant to show off Sung’s power and wealth would become a big mistake. Taehyung’s gaze flickered over the twink, calmly drinking his
champagne and orange juice as though he weren’t sitting at a table with four of the most dangerous men in Asia. Two kingpins and their right hands. Only Taehyung didn’t think he was as calm as he appeared. His wrist trembled slightly, giving him away. He had enough presence to make sure that tiny shake ceased by the time it got to his slim fingers where they clenched the crystal of his glass. It wasn’t the fingers or his ability to remain coolly poised while the men around him talked business that captured Taehyung’s curiosity. It was the mark on the back of his hand, permanent slash lines, viciously marring his porcelain skin. Anger burned deep in Taehyung’s gut, surprising him. Taehyung rarely felt anything. Ever. Certainly not for a man. This was how he made effective decisions. How he moved trade across borders with ease and cool
logic. Emotion had been removed from him. First by a ruthless father, then by a vicious military stint in his home country and finally by an unrelenting, merciless prison sentence that had systematically broken him before he had, in turn, broken down the prison itself and owned it from the inside out. By the time he was released it was into a world of his own making; a world shaped by him on the inside and ruled by him on the outside. Yet the sight of this cool, blond beauty, so broken yet utterly resilient was doing something to him, forcing him to feel. He shifted in his seat, sliding his arm across the back of the leather, his eyes never leaving him while he listened to the other men speak. Negotiate terms. He didn’t need to add his voice. Jimin, his right hand, knew the terms. Knew not to fuck up while in pursuit of new deals for the boss. Taehyung wanted him. The electrifying anger he felt when his eyes caressed that mark assured him he would take the man and make him his. Not because it infuriated him that he had been abused. No, he was not a good enough man to care about that. He was under no illusions he would treat him any better than Sung. Hell, he’d probably treat him much worse. Because Sung undoubtedly set him up like a trophy in his great mausoleum of a house and then ignored the unapproachable beauty. Taehyung had no intention of ignoring him. He was going to take him and fuck every inch of him, just the way he wanted. Hard, brutal, mean. Exactly how he was. Exactly how this world had shaped him. Because he could. He was about to become spoils of war. No, Taehyung wasn’t angry about the mark on his hand at all. He was pissed that the mark was twisted into the shape of an “J” and not an “K.” He wanted him to belong to him, to the King. When he got his hands on the man, that would be the first thing he changed. Finally, after nearly an hour of sitting in the booth together, his eyes
rarely leaving his face, Jungkook lifted his head to meet his uncompromising gaze. And for the first time in his life, Taehyung felt his heart stop in his chest. He was unprepared for the impact. Jungkook’s eyes – big and wide – were vivid, stunning and unrelenting. Though his expression didn’t flicker once from the blank mask of icy beauty, Taehyung saw the burning disdain, the heated fury buried deep within those fiery orbs for the men that surrounded him. He despised all of them. Taehyung’s lip lifted in an answering sneer. He refused to drop his eyes from Taehyung’s challenge, despite his husband sitting at the same table. Taehyung wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to take this fiesty boy from his throne and tame him. Taehyung vowed, then and there, that he would eventually have him.
* * * To be continued * * *
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