The Cold Abduction

Vernon's POV

The city was alive, yet here in the shadows of an alley, we were invisible. Jun and Hoshi sat beside me in the SUV, coldly watching the live feed of Jeonghan's flower shop as he locked up. He finally stepped outside, his shoulders slumped with fatigue. I felt an odd twinge in my chest seeing him so unaware, about to fall into our carefully laid trap.

"He's alone," I murmured, almost to myself.

Jun glanced back, his expression unreadable. "Then we move. Now."

Jun slipped out of the SUV, his mask on as he blended with the night. Hoshi gave me a pointed look. "Don't mess this up," he warned, then followed Jun. I stayed put, watching Jeonghan's slow steps. He was so close now, his footsteps echoing faintly.

With silent precision, Jun moved up behind him, the chloroform cloth ready. In an instant, he clamped it over Jeonghan's mouth, his grip unyielding. Jeonghan's eyes widened, struggling, but Hoshi was there, cold and clinical, his stance rigid as Jeonghan's movements weakened.

"Hold still," Jun muttered, his tone calm.

I swallowed hard, feeling the unsettling distance between this world and the one Jeonghan knew. In seconds, his body went limp. Hoshi lifted him, the professionalism of it somehow disturbing as he regarded Jeonghan's unconscious face without emotion.

"Back door," Hoshi ordered as they reached the SUV.

I opened it, and Hoshi laid Jeonghan gently inside. As I glanced at him, an unexpected weight pressed on me. Hoshi's gaze shifted to me, noticing my tension. "It's just another job, Vernon. Don't get any ideas."

"Understood," I replied stiffly, starting the engine. I glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of Jeonghan's peaceful face, unaware of what awaited him. I wanted to detach myself, to see him as they did—a job. But I couldn't shake the questions crowding my mind, the unsettling sense that I'd crossed a line I might never come back from.

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The car pulled into the massive estate, its wheels rolling over the polished gravel drive that led to the mansion's entrance. Set in a secluded part of the city, the mansion was an imposing structure, sprawling over 50,000 square feet, its dark exterior and towering silhouette a reminder of the man who owned it. It was 11:30 pm, and as the car rolled to a stop, the headlights cast eerie shadows across the carved pillars and iron-wrought doors.

Choi Seungcheol stood at the entrance, his figure bathed in the faint glow of the mansion's lights, his eyes cold and unyielding. He watched patiently as the car door opened, his gaze intense and calculating, awaiting the one person who had somehow slipped past his defenses.

Jun was the first to step out, followed closely by Vernon and Hoshi. But Seungcheol's attention never wavered from the car's interior. He stepped forward just as they gently lifted an unconscious Jeonghan out. The sharpness in his gaze softened ever so slightly as he looked at the figure lying limp and vulnerable in his men's arms.

"Give him to me," Seungcheol ordered, his voice low yet commanding, his hand extending towards Jeonghan as if by instinct.

Vernon hesitated for a split second, surprised by the gentleness in his boss's eyes—a look that was as foreign to Seungcheol as kindness in a serpent. But he obeyed, passing Jeonghan's weight into Seungcheol's arms. The mafia boss lifted Jeonghan with utmost care, cradling him as if he were made of porcelain. His hardened face softened, his lips curving slightly in a ghost of a smile as he looked down at Jeonghan's face. At that moment, nothing else mattered—not the presence of his men, not the chaos he had orchestrated to bring Jeonghan here.

As Seungcheol made his way through the dim corridors of the mansion, his attention was consumed entirely by the figure in his arms. Jeonghan's face looked so serene, his soft hair falling in loose strands over his forehead. Seungcheol brushed them aside gently, careful not to disturb him, the subtle warmth of Jeonghan's presence making Seungcheol feel a peace that he hadn't known for years.

Dino and Wonwoo stood in the living room, watching their leader's return. The sight of Jeonghan in Seungcheol's arms sparked a rare spark of excitement in Dino's eyes—a twisted joy that made his chest buzz with childlike anticipation.

"He's finally here," Dino murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "Finally, someone... different."

Seungcheol's cold, piercing gaze flicked up briefly, his eyes meeting Dino's for a moment, understanding his unspoken thoughts. This man, his queen, was going to change everything.

Climbing the grand staircase, Seungcheol felt an odd thrill surging through him, a satisfaction he hadn't expected. He approached a door at the end of the hallway—Jeonghan's room. Unlike the rest of the house, which was cloaked in heavy shadows and dark elegance, this room was something else entirely, a stark contrast to the cold exterior of the mansion. The room was filled with warm, soft light, a space crafted with delicate touches and quiet elegance. Seungcheol had spared no detail, creating a space that mirrored Jeonghan's gentle spirit, a room fit for a king.

Stepping inside, Seungcheol took a moment to gaze around, pride swelling in his chest. His. The thought filled him with an unexplainable satisfaction, one that danced dangerously close to obsession. Carefully, he laid Jeonghan down on the bed, adjusting the covers to tuck him in, his movements almost reverent. He got down on one knee beside the bed, his hand hovering above Jeonghan's face, tracing the air over his delicate features. He didn't dare touch him; something about the act felt sacred, and he feared even the gentlest touch would mar the perfection of the moment.

Seungcheol's hand lingered, his fingertips brushing the air as he studied Jeonghan's sleeping face. There was something about this person that he couldn't explain, something that had burrowed into his chest, making him feel both exhilarated and calm. Slowly, he ran a hand through Jeonghan's hair, his thumb brushing against the soft strands as he pressed a gentle kiss to Jeonghan's crown. It was as if he could breathe here, in this moment, with Jeonghan so close.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. He stared down at him, his eyes softening, the heavy weight he had carried for so long lifting just enough to let him feel something pure. Just this presence was enough to fill the emptiness that had haunted him for years.

But he couldn't linger. He needed to be the man his men expected—the cold, unwavering leader. After one last glance, Seungcheol rose to his feet and exited the room, closing the door softly behind him.

When he returned to the living room, his face was once again the stoic mask of Choi Seungcheol, the mafia boss. His men, who had been waiting for him, stood up as he entered.

"Good work, everyone," Seungcheol said, his voice as cold as steel.

Wonwoo spoke up, his tone as sharp as ever. "We need to handle his friends. If they file a missing person report, it'll draw attention."

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes hardening. "We'll discuss that tomorrow. For now, get some rest."

The men nodded, each heading to their rooms, leaving Seungcheol alone in the dimly lit space. He sank into the corner couch, letting the silence envelop him, but this time, the darkness did not feel so suffocating. Instead, a quiet thrill lingered within him. Jeonghan's presence in his home—it would change things. He knew it, felt it in his bones. Even if Jeonghan hated him, his very existence in this house was enough to ease the unbearable weight Seungcheol had carried for so long. A twisted satisfaction crept into his chest, a glimmer of hope he dared not acknowledge.

As he sat there in the silence, a small smile played at the corner of his mouth, a promise echoing in the darkness: Jeonghan is mine.

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So, all I want to say is thank you for your love and support. 

 This is my first work. so, if any mistakes or uninteresting chapters, I apologies. 

please do give feedback in the comments. see you in the next chapter. 🔥

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