Chapter 38: CRIMSON OBSESSION
The Trap Tightens
The atmosphere in Taehyung’s private lounge was suffocating,
thick with the anticipation of something that was about to break. The lights
were dim, the room bathed in shadows that seemed to stretch longer with every
passing second. Taehyung sat at the head of the table, his posture unyielding,
exuding an air of dominance that only he seemed capable of. The sharp scent of
bourbon lingered in the air, untouched by his fingertips as they drummed
steadily against the surface of the table.
A slow, deliberate smile stretched across his lips as his
eyes glinted with an icy gleam. The pieces of the game had fallen into place,
and now there was no turning back.
“It’s time to set the trap,” Taehyung said, his voice low
and predatory. The weight of his words hung in the air like a thick fog, and
the room seemed to grow even colder.
Jimin stood just behind him, his eyes fixed on Taehyung with
a certain unease that he couldn’t hide. He had seen this side of Taehyung
before—the side that was dangerously close to obsession. The side that demanded
results, no matter the cost. And it worried him.
He hesitated, unsure of how to approach the growing tension.
“And if they don’t bite?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if
testing the waters.
Taehyung’s gaze shifted slowly to Jimin, the edges of his
lips curling into something that was far from kind. There was something cold in
his eyes—something darker than Jimin had ever seen. “Then we tighten the
noose,” he replied, his words chilling and certain. “There’s no running from
this now.”
The silence that followed was heavy, the only sound the soft
clink of ice in a glass somewhere in the distance. Taehyung wasn’t just playing
a game anymore—he was hunting, and Jimin wasn’t sure how long they would be
able to stay one step ahead.
The city outside Kim Enterprises buzzed with its usual
frenetic energy, a chaotic symphony of traffic, lights, and murmurs. But within
the sleek walls of the building, it was a different world entirely. Taehyung’s
private office was a fortress, every inch carefully crafted to reflect his
authority. The polished mahogany desk stood as the centerpiece of the room, its
rich surface gleaming in the dim light. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided
an unobstructed view of the city below, a sprawling landscape of steel and
glass, of power and control.
Taehyung leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on
the desk with a rhythmic precision that only increased the tension building
inside him. He was watching the security feed from his surveillance cameras,
his eyes flicking from one screen to the next. His men were in position,
waiting for the first sign of movement, the first indication that the traitor
would take the bait.
But nothing was happening. The trap had been set perfectly,
and yet the traitor remained silent. It was almost as if they were waiting for
something—waiting for a sign to make their move.
Jimin entered the room quietly, his expression tense, his
brow furrowed in concern. He stepped up to the desk, eyes scanning the
monitors, then meeting Taehyung’s gaze. “We need to be careful,” he said, his
voice low. “If this is bigger than we think—”
Taehyung cut him off sharply, his tone cold as steel. “I
don’t care how big it is,” he said, the words laced with a venomous edge. “I
want their head. Now.”
Jimin bit his lip but didn’t argue. He knew better than to
challenge Taehyung’s resolve when it was this unwavering. He had seen it
before, this single-minded determination that consumed everything in its path.
But something gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were
missing something—something important.
The trap was set. The players were in position. All they
needed now was for the traitor to make their move.
Meanwhile, across the city, Jungkook was stalking through
the shadowed underbelly of the world, as familiar with the dark alleys and
forgotten streets as he was with the backrooms of high society. His movements
were quiet, calculated. His every step was measured, every action deliberate.
He was a ghost, slipping unnoticed through the cracks of the city, always
listening, always watching.
But even as he moved with the precision of a predator,
something didn’t sit right with him. The puzzle pieces were falling into place,
but there was something off—something that didn’t add up. The mastermind behind
this plot was too careful, too precise. The betrayal was calculated, and it ran
deeper than anyone, especially Taehyung, knew.
Jungkook’s instincts were sharp, honed over years of living
in the shadows. He had infiltrated the world of betrayal and deceit long ago,
and now, more than ever, he could feel the weight of the conspiracy pressing in
on him. Whoever was behind this wasn’t just going to fall for Taehyung’s
trap—they were ready. They were expecting it.
He took a moment to stop, his sharp eyes scanning the
surroundings. There was a high-rise building up ahead—its sleek glass exterior
reflecting the lights of the city in a disorienting kaleidoscope. Jungkook knew
that the meeting he was looking for was inside. The men involved were
discussing the final stages of their coup, whispering about what was to come.
And he would hear it all.
The high-rise penthouse was quiet, the only sound the soft
hum of the air conditioning and the distant rumble of the city below. The room
was dimly lit, the lights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and
writhe across the floor. Jungkook crouched in the shadows, hidden from sight,
listening intently as a conversation unfolded just beyond his reach.
He recognized the voice immediately. It was one he had heard
many times before. One that made his blood run cold.
“It’s almost time,” the voice said, low and hushed, laced
with a sinister undertone. “He’s too distracted with his obsession to see
what’s coming.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening around the
edge of the balcony railing he was leaning against. He had always known that
Taehyung’s obsession with control would be his downfall, but to hear someone
speaking so casually about it, to know that they had been watching, planning…
It sent a chill down his spine. The betrayal ran deeper than Taehyung realized.
They were all blind to it—Taehyung most of all.
Jungkook didn’t let his anger show. He kept his breathing
steady, his mind already calculating the next move. He couldn’t let this go.
Not now. Not when they were this close.
But just as the conversation reached its peak, he pulled his
phone from his pocket and typed a single, urgent message: Get out. Now.
Back in Taehyung’s office, the tension was palpable. The
hours had passed, the night growing older, but still there was no sign of the
traitor making their move. Taehyung’s fingers drummed faster on the desk, the
rhythmic tapping like the ticking of a clock. Time was slipping away, and yet
they were no closer to catching the one who dared to defy him.
Jimin stood beside him, his eyes flicking back and forth
between the monitors and Taehyung. “We’ve been waiting for hours,” he murmured.
“What if they’ve already gotten wind of the trap?”
Taehyung didn’t respond immediately. His mind was still
spinning, piecing together the fragments of information they had gathered. The
traitor wasn’t just an opportunist—they were a mastermind, someone who had been
carefully plotting this for longer than they could have known.
“They’ll show themselves soon enough,” Taehyung said, his
voice cold and sure.
But even as he said the words, a sense of unease prickled at
the back of his mind. Something was wrong. There was more to this than he had
originally thought.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the desk, the sharp vibration
cutting through the silence. He glanced down, seeing the message from Jungkook.
Get out. Now.
The words were simple, but the weight they carried was
immediate. His heart skipped a beat, the warning sending a ripple of unease
through his chest. He knew better than to dismiss such a message, especially
when it came from someone who clearly had inside information—someone who knew
the depths of the empire Taehyung had built.
The realization hit him like a tidal wave. This wasn’t just
a warning—it was a final, ominous signal that the trap had already been set,
and now, they were the prey.
Taehyung exhaled sharply, setting the phone down with
deliberate care. His fingers tightened around the edge of his desk as his mind
raced. There was no time to waste. His empire was under threat, and the shadows
that had been lurking in the corners were about to reveal themselves.
“Jimin,” he called out, his voice cold but edged with
urgency.
Jimin, who had been monitoring the security feed from across
the room, snapped his head toward Taehyung at the sound of his name. His face,
usually composed, was now etched with concern, his brows furrowing as he caught
the seriousness in Taehyung’s tone. “What is it?”
“We’re leaving. Now. Something’s coming,” Taehyung said, his
voice clipped, the command in his words unmistakable.
Jimin didn’t hesitate. He could see it in Taehyung’s
eyes—the calm before the storm. He reached for his earpiece and, with a flick
of his fingers, sent out the order to his team. The security personnel would
clear the building, and everyone would follow the planned exit strategy.
But as they moved toward the exit, the building itself
seemed to shudder beneath their feet. A low hum, followed by a sharp burst of
static, filled the air as the lights flickered, then died completely, plunging
the entire floor into darkness.
Jimin’s breath hitched, and for a brief moment, Taehyung
could feel the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for his own earpiece.
The lights were out. This was no accident.
“Damn it,” Jimin muttered under his breath, flicking on his
flashlight. The beam sliced through the pitch-black room, casting long shadows
against the walls. “The power surge—someone’s hacked the system.”
Taehyung’s lips curled into a grim smile, his voice icy as
he replied, “Then they’ve underestimated us.”
He reached for the gun at his side, the weight of it a
comforting reminder of the control he still had in this moment. Jimin did the
same, the two of them moving with synchronized precision as they made their way
toward the exit.
------------------------------------------------------
Outside, Jungkook was already in motion, his mind
calculating every step, every possibility. His boots slapped against the
pavement as he sprinted toward the towering Kim Enterprises building. The
message he’d received earlier had given him a fleeting moment of hope, but now,
with the sudden darkness falling over the city, his instincts told him that it
was too late.
He’d been tracking the enemy’s movements for hours,
gathering information, piecing together the puzzle. But it wasn’t enough. The
game had shifted. They had already made their move. The trap was sprung, and
Taehyung, for all his power, was caught in the center of it.
Jungkook cursed under his breath, his heart pounding in his
chest as he pulled his gun from its holster. He wasn’t going to let Taehyung
die—not tonight. Not when the stakes were higher than they had ever been.
As he neared the building, the unmistakable sound of gunfire
rang out from within, slicing through the air like a warning shot. The sound
sent a jolt through his spine, and his muscles tensed instinctively. They had
already started shooting.
“Damn it!” Jungkook growled under his breath, his footsteps
quickening. He rounded the corner of the building, his eyes scanning the
perimeter for any sign of movement.
-----------------------------------------------------
Inside the building, the tension was suffocating. The once
quiet corridors were now filled with the heavy silence of impending danger.
Taehyung and Jimin pressed themselves against the cold concrete walls, their
eyes darting between the dim emergency lights that flickered overhead. Every
noise—the soft shuffle of footsteps below, the sharp hiss of an air vent, the
distant creak of a door opening—was amplified in the stillness.
The enemy was close. Taehyung could feel it. His instincts,
honed over years of managing his empire with ruthlessness and precision,
screamed at him to stay calm. But the gnawing feeling in his gut told him that
this was different.
Footsteps echoed from the floors below, growing louder with
every passing second. Someone was coming. And they weren’t alone.
Jimin’s face was tight with tension, his eyes narrowing as
he tried to pinpoint the exact location of the intruders. His hand was steady
on the grip of his gun, but the uncertainty was palpable.
A crackling sound suddenly filled the room—followed by a
voice, cold and mocking, that came through the emergency speakers.
“Did you really think you were untouchable, Taehyung? This
empire isn’t yours anymore.”
Jimin’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment,
Taehyung felt a flicker of hesitation. The voice was unfamiliar, but the threat
was unmistakable. It was the kind of message that chilled a man to his core.
Taehyung’s face hardened, his gaze steely. The voice had
triggered something inside him—something primal, a surge of power that demanded
to be unleashed. He had built this empire from the ground up, and he would be
damned if anyone thought they could take it from him.
“Let’s see about that,” Taehyung murmured, his voice low and
deadly as he slowly reached for his gun.
Jimin followed suit, his own weapon raised in anticipation.
Both men were on high alert now, prepared for whatever would come next. The
enemy had shown their hand, and there would be no mercy.
------------------------------------------------
Outside, Jungkook’s patience had run out. He had been
waiting long enough. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. The
gunshots had stopped, but the silence that followed was even worse. He knew
that Taehyung was in there, trapped in the heart of the storm. And he wasn’t
going to let him face it alone.
Jungkook slipped past the security perimeter, his movements
swift and silent. He knew this building like the back of his hand—every
hallway, every stairwell, every hidden passage. He had studied it, memorized
it. And now, it would be his advantage.
The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the thick carpet
of the corridor as he moved deeper into the building. His heart raced, but his
breathing remained steady. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
He rounded the corner and froze. Up ahead, the faint light
from a flashlight flickered through the darkness. Taehyung and Jimin. They were
close.
Jungkook gritted his teeth, his hand tightening around the
grip of his gun. He couldn’t let them walk into a trap. He couldn’t let them
die because of someone else’s ambition.
With a quiet exhale, he moved forward, slipping into the
shadows once more. His target was clear: protect Taehyung. At any cost.
Back inside the building, Taehyung’s senses were heightened,
every nerve on edge. The footsteps grew louder, and the tension in the air was
thick enough to cut with a knife. The enemy was closing in, but Taehyung was
ready. They had made their move, but they had underestimated him. He wasn’t the
same man he had been when they first tried to take him down. He had learned. He
had adapted. And now, he would strike back.
As the footsteps reached the hallway outside, Taehyung’s
finger tightened on the trigger of his gun.
“Jimin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “Get
ready.”
Jimin nodded, his gaze unwavering, his grip firm on his own
weapon.
The storm was coming. And Taehyung was ready for it.
Comments
Post a Comment