Chapter 2 || "Professor Kim: A victim. A Survivor. A Saint." || BOOK 2 OF PHOENIX IN HIS ARMS.

 

The grandfather clock in the dining hall struck ten with a soft, reverberating chime, the sound echoing through the vast, sunlit mansion. The long mahogany table, set with silver cutlery and delicate porcelain dishes, gleamed under the glow of the crystal chandelier. A light breeze drifted in from the open balcony doors, bringing with it the scent of roses and garden mint from the eastern courtyard.

Mr. Kim sat with his usual straight-backed posture, scanning through the morning paper with mild interest, while Mrs. Kim sipped her fruit juice, her eyes flicking toward the entrance every few seconds with thinly veiled anticipation.

“They’re late,” she said, setting down her half-empty fruit juice with a graceful clink. “I hope that means Jungkook has done something worth hearing about.”

Mr. Kim chuckled without looking up. “That boy always does something worth hearing about.”

The moment hung in quiet expectancy until the sharp sound of polished shoes clicking against the marble floor announced the arrival of one of their sons.

Taehyung stepped into the room, regal and composed, clad in a tailored slate-gray coat over a cream dress shirt and dark trousers. His collar sat perfectly pressed, a single silver pin adorning his lapel. Not a hair out of place. He walked with the slow confidence of someone entirely in control of his world.

He nodded in quiet acknowledgment toward his parents.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth, unreadable.

Mrs. Kim raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea again, eyes narrowing just slightly. “So composed,” she murmured. “As if you didn’t have the entire west wing shaking an hour ago.”

Taehyung offered no response. He took his seat beside his father, unfolded his napkin, and began to slice his eggs with unnerving calm, as though the conversation had nothing to do with him.

The drama was not his to initiate—it would arrive, as always, in due time.

And it did.

Moments later, the soft thud of footsteps echoed from the grand staircase. Jungkook descended slowly, one hand trailing along the ornate banister, the other rubbing at his lower back with theatrical delicacy. His bottom lip jutted out in a deep, exaggerated pout, and his eyes, still slightly red-rimmed, darted toward the table.

The second Mrs. Kim saw him, her smirk spread.

“Well, well,” she drawled, tapping a spoon against her fruit custard. “Seems someone decided to be a brat early this morning... and got his punishment for it too. At least you won’t be punished for waking up late now.”

Jungkook let out an exaggerated sniff and padded into the room in his oversized hoodie and soft joggers, walking like a child freshly scolded—slow, pouty, deliberate.

“mommaaa.. You are supposed to be on my side. Hyungie is always meanie to me. I am not his student anymore, but he still punished me like some kid. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to delete the file,” he whined with full dramatic flair, standing beside the table instead of sitting. “It was an accident. But Hyungie didn’t care that it was not intentional. He had already submitted it to the university, but still—he bullied me.”

His lower lip quivered pathetically. “I’m not talking to him. He’s so meanie. Hmph. He is bad. Very bad. Bad hyungie. Why should I talk to bad people? Bad people are old men with bald heads and no teeth. And.. and their mouth stings too. Yes. I should stay away from bad people. Hmm.”

At that, Taehyung raised an eyebrow but didn’t so much as glance at him. He continued eating as if Jungkook wasn’t in the room at all.

Jungkook sniffed again, louder this time, clearly fishing for attention, but when none came from his husband, he dropped the act with a sigh and moved to the sideboard, grabbing a bright red apple and pouring himself a tall glass of banana smoothie.

“Momma,” he said while balancing his breakfast, “I’m going to the office for a bit. I have a very important order to finish, and the deadline is very close. If I did not work on Sundays, then I wouldn’t be able to finish it on time, and then I’m going out with my friends in the evening. I will enjoy being with people my age, I don’t like a specific type of old people's company.”

After Saying that, he turned to look toward Taehyung (who was eating his breakfast like nothing is going on around him. How dare he ignore him after punishing him so brutely. Hmp!!) with his big eyes glaring like he wanted to – ahm!!! and continued “I might not be back for dinner or may be stay at one of their house for a sleepover too—don’t wait for me, okay?”

Mrs. Kim gave him a look filled with knowing amusement. “Just make sure you don’t delete any more files of that stingy, bald, and teethless old man while you’re out.”

Jungkook pouted deeper but leaned in to kiss her cheek, then Mr. Kim’s. “Bye, Momma. Bye, Dada. You both are looking very beautiful… unlike someone who is not my type at all. Hmm.”

He turned on his heel and marched dramatically toward the door, shooting not a single glance in Taehyung’s direction. The soft click of the front door echoed faintly after him.

A beat passed.

Taehyung calmly lifted his teacup, took a sip, and placed it down with elegant precision. “He’ll be fine once he cools off,” he said simply.

Mrs. Kim chuckled behind her hand. “You always say that. But I’m quite enjoying these morning shows. And I was thinking about who that old man is Jungkook was talking about.”

“Someone has to keep him in check,” Taehyung replied, rising from his seat and smoothing out his coat. Totally ignoring the last sentence, Mrs. Kim said while giggling.

He gave a final nod to his parents. “Exams are nearing. I’ll be at the university for most of the day.”

And with that, he left, just as calm and unreadable as he’d arrived. Only the faintest glint in his eyes betrayed the satisfaction of a man who knew his bratty husband would be texting him by lunchtime—pouting through emojis, begging for attention once again.

And maybe he is not satisfied with his previous punishment to call him an old man like that. Jungkook need a good lesson that will remind him forever to respect elde- what the fuck he is not a old man then why should he react. He will let it slide this time. After all, Jungkook is his brat to begin with. And he is a brat because of him and his family.

click the link below for the next chapter:

https://novelreadingislife.blogspot.com/2025/05/chapter-3-professor-kim-victim-survivor.html

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