Chapter 04: Unveiling the Truth

The mansion loomed before Taehyung, its imposing facade a stark reminder of his mother's lost years. He hated the familiarity of the place, the polished marble floors, the grand staircases, the opulent décor – all of it a testament to the wealth and power that had consumed his mother's life. He was brought inside, his hands still bound, his feet shackled, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

He was ushered into a vast, opulent library, the shelves lined with leather-bound books, the air thick with the scent of old paper and polished wood. He saw Jungkook standing in the center of the room, seemingly fine, his white shirt now replaced with a crisp black one, the small mark of the dagger barely visible.

Taehyung's frustration boiled over. His plan had failed. He had managed to get a dagger into Jungkook's chest, but it hadn't been enough. His anger, fueled by grief and a burning desire for revenge, threatened to consume him.

Jungkook, his eyes fixed on Taehyung, a strange mixture of curiosity and amusement playing on his lips, gestured towards a chair.  “Sit down, Taehyung.  We have a lot to talk about.”

Taehyung didn't move. He simply glared at Jungkook, his eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and despair. He couldn't believe that Jungkook was so calm, so collected, so seemingly unaffected by the attack. It was as if he had expected it, as if he had been waiting for Taehyung to make his move.

“Tell me about yourself, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, his voice a smooth, hypnotic murmur. “I'm curious about the boy who tried to kill me.”

Taehyung remained silent, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a silent rage. He refused to give Jungkook the satisfaction of knowing anything about him.

“I know your mother worked here,” Jungkook continued, his voice a gentle caress. “Kyushu was a good woman. She always spoke highly of you.”

Taehyung snapped. He lunged forward, his hands reaching for Jungkook's collar. He tightened his grip, his knuckles turning white with fury.

“Don't you dare speak her name!” Taehyung growled, his voice a guttural rasp. “You're the reason she's dead! You're the one who killed her! You murderer!”

Jungkook didn't flinch. He simply met Taehyung's gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding.

“I didn't kill her, Taehyung,” Jungkook admitted. “But I understand why you think I did. She was close to me, and I know you blame me for what happened to your parents.”

“Don't you dare pretend to be innocent!” Taehyung roared, his voice filled with a raw, unbridled rage. “You're the one who took everything from me! You're the one who stole my family! You're the one who killed my mother!”

“I'm not the monster you think I am, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, his voice a soft whisper. “I'm not the one who killed your mother. I'm not the one who took everything from you.”

“You're lying!” Taehyung screamed, his grip tightening on Jungkook's collar.  “You're all the same! You rich bastards! You think you can get away with anything!”

“I'm not like them, Taehyung,” Jungkook sighed.

“Then why did she have to run? Why did she have to leave?  Why did she hide all these years?” Taehyung demanded, his voice a desperate cry. “Why did she call you before she died?”

Jungkook's eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He knew that there were no words that could soothe Taehyung's pain, no explanations that could erase the grief that consumed him. He understood the anger, the hatred, the desire for revenge. He had felt those emotions himself, years ago, when he lost his own parents.

“She was trying to protect you, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, his voice a low murmur. “She was trying to protect you from the truth, from the danger. 
She was trying to protect you from me.”

Taehyung's grip loosened, his eyes widening in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He stepped back, his eyes searching Taehyung's, trying to pierce through the anger and grief that clouded his gaze.  “I'm the one who wants to help you, Taehyung. I'm the one who wants to find the truth, the one who wants to bring the real killer to justice.”

Taehyung stared at him, his anger slowly giving way to a flicker of doubt. Jungkook's words, his sincerity, his vulnerability, were starting to chip away at the wall he had built around his heart.

“Why should I believe you?” Taehyung asked, his voice a low murmur. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because I'm telling you the truth, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, his voice unwavering. “And because I know what it's like to lose everything. I lost my parents, Taehyung. I know the pain, the anger, the emptiness. I know what it's like to want revenge.”

He paused, his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sadness. “But revenge doesn't bring back the dead, Taehyung. It doesn't heal the wounds. It only creates more pain, more suffering. I know because I've been there.”

Taehyung looked at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of suspicion and a glimmer of hope. He had been so consumed by his grief and anger that he hadn't considered the possibility that Jungkook might be telling the truth. He had been so focused on revenge that he hadn't stopped to think about what he was really seeking.

“Why would you help me?” Taehyung muttered, “Why would you care?”

“Because I know what it's like to lose everything,” Jungkook uttered. “Because I know what it's like to want justice. And because I see a part of myself in you, Taehyung. I see the pain, the anger, the desperation. I see the boy who lost everything, the boy who wants to find the truth, the boy who wants to get justice.”

“What do you want me to do?” Taehyung asked, his voice a soft whisper.

“I want you to believe me, Taehyung,” Jungkook said in a gentle plea.

Taehyung stood there, thinking whether or not he should believe this man. Will Jungkook be worthy of his trust or ruin it?