Chapter 31: The Intention

The drive had been silent, filled only with the sound of the car engine and the occasional rustle of Gyu shifting nervously in his mother’s arms. When they finally stopped, Ilene realized they had been brought to a villa, tucked away far from the noise of the neighborhood.

The place was secluded, but surprisingly, her chest did not tighten the way it always did whenever Jungkook’s mansion loomed in front of her. There was no suffocating air, no invisible hands pressing on her lungs, no dread clawing at the edges of her mind. Instead, there was an odd calmness. She didn’t completely trust it yet, but her body instinctively knew—this was different.

“Mom, where are we?” Gyu’s small voice trembled against her shoulder. He clung tightly, as though afraid the world around them might vanish if he let go.

Ilene kissed the crown of his head and whispered reassuringly, “Don’t worry, baby. We’re safe here.” She wasn’t sure if it was entirely true, but she would rather choke on lies than let her son drown in fear.

The man who had led them here pushed open the villa door, his gloved hand lingering on the handle. “Get inside,” he said in a low, firm tone, stepping aside to let them pass.

Ilene hesitated for a breath before carrying Gyu across the threshold. The moment her feet touched the polished floor, she glanced around, scanning the wide entryway. To her surprise, the villa was warm, even welcoming. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and fresh linen—such a sharp contrast to the mansion she had been forced to live in, where the atmosphere was always heavy with intimidation, like the walls themselves carried Jungkook’s cruelty. Here, she could almost breathe without fear.

“Hyung, they’re here!” the tall man announced, his voice echoing faintly through the quiet space.

From deeper inside, another figure emerged. He was shorter than the first man, but the moment Ilene laid eyes on him, her spine stiffened. His presence was heavy—commanding, cold, and sharp, like a blade hidden beneath soft cloth. Even without raising his voice, he carried an aura that demanded attention. Instinctively, Ilene pulled Gyu closer, her fingers gripping him protectively.

“I’m glad you accepted our invitation,” the man said. His tone was calm, but it cut through the air like frost.

Ilene’s pulse quickened. She swallowed, fighting to steady her voice. “Who are you? What do you need from me?”

The man’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he replied. “I’m Min Yoongi. And from the way I see it, you’re the one who needs me.”

Her brows furrowed. “How… how do you know about me? About my son?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. “Kim Taehyung told us.”

The name struck Ilene like a blow. She stared at him in disbelief, her lips parting but no words coming out. Taehyung? She had been convinced Jungkook’s manipulation had swallowed him whole—that he had been blinded to everything, just another one of Jungkook’s pawns. Yet here was proof that he had seen, he had understood.

Yoongi read her silence, his eyes unwavering. “Don’t waste time wondering why. He’s stubborn, reckless even, but his heart’s too soft. He couldn’t stand watching you suffer. That’s why he came to us.”

Ilene’s chest ached, her lips trembling. “Then… why is he still with Jungkook? If he wanted to help, why not escape with us?”

“To distract him,” Yoongi replied bluntly. “He’s keeping Jungkook’s eyes on him, so you and your son could get away. That’s the only reason you’re standing here right now. He bought you this chance.”

The truth landed heavy in her chest, flooding her with a mixture of gratitude and terror. But then she frowned, shaking her head. “No… they’re not in the mansion. Taehyung and Jungkook left. I don’t know where they went—it all happened so suddenly.”

Yoongi froze. His sharp eyes narrowed. “What do you mean they left?”

“I’m sure of it,” Ilene said, tightening her hold on Gyu. “They weren’t in the mansion when we left.”

“Namjoon!” Yoongi’s voice cracked like thunder, making her flinch. He turned toward the tall man behind her. “What the hell is happening?!”

“I—I don’t know, Hyung,” Namjoon stammered, his jaw tight. “I sent him the signal. I told him we were starting. He didn’t answer after that.”

Yoongi’s teeth clenched in frustration. “Track his goddamn phone. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Namjoon bolted from the room, leaving Ilene standing frozen in place, her heart hammering at the sharp edge in Yoongi’s voice.

Yoongi exhaled heavily, then shifted his attention back to her. His expression softened just slightly.

“Listen. This villa is where you’ll stay for now. Everything you and your son need will be provided. If he requires schooling, it’ll be arranged without interruption. Food, clothes, anything—just tell the staff. But,” his eyes hardened again, “you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even to someone you think you trust.”

Ilene nodded slowly, though confusion and unease tangled inside her. She was grateful, but still reeling.

Yoongi gave her one last look before retreating deeper into the villa, his phone already pressed to his ear.

Ilene stood still for a long moment, clutching her son. Was this truly safety? Or just another cage—one that looked kinder than the last? She didn’t know. But for now, she could only hold onto Gyu and hope.

Meanwhile, across town, a smirk curved across Jungkook’s lips as he read the message glowing on his cracked screen.

“Oh, so they finally got rid of that trash,” he murmured, almost amused. He leaned back against his car, a low chuckle escaping him. “At least I don’t have to bother disposing of it myself. Funny, how useful they can be without even realizing it.”

Inside Jimin’s old house, Taehyung was quietly packing the last of Jimin’s belongings.

When Taehyung stepped outside, Jungkook was waiting exactly as expected.

“Are you done?” Jungkook asked, his smile almost too smooth, too practiced.

Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and took the small bag from Taehyung, placing it neatly in the back seat of the car.

“Yes,” Taehyung said softly, though his eyes betrayed exhaustion. “But… I’m hungry.”

Jungkook’s lips curved in a gentle smile, his tone deceptively light. “Then let’s eat. We’ll go to a restaurant. You must know a place you like, right?”

“Oh, yes. There’s one I haven’t been to in a long time.” Taehyung’s face brightened, the first true spark in hours.

“That sounds perfect,” Jungkook replied warmly. But then he tilted his head, almost innocently. “By the way, can I borrow your phone? Mine died, and I left the charger behind. I need to call my secretary.”

Taehyung hesitated only briefly before handing it over. “Sure. Here.”

“Thank you.” Jungkook’s smile widened. “While I do this, check your bag again. Make sure you didn’t forget anything. It’d be annoying to drive back.”

Nodding, Taehyung opened the car door and leaned in to double-check.

Behind him, there was a sharp crash.

Taehyung’s head whipped around to see his phone shattered on the asphalt, glass scattered like jagged stars across the ground. Jungkook crouched immediately, gathering the broken pieces with his bare hands.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said smoothly, though his tone was oddly calm. “It slipped.”

“Don’t!” Taehyung rushed forward, pulling Jungkook’s wrist away. “You’ll cut yourself.”

The glass shimmered on Jungkook’s palm, but he didn’t even flinch. His eyes stayed fixed on Taehyung, watching the worry that flooded his face.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispered, his voice low, almost tender. “I’ll buy you a new one. A better one.”

Taehyung sighed, defeated, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah… that would work. But let’s clean your hands first. You’ll hurt yourself.”

He gently tugged Jungkook toward the back seat, fumbling for tissues, carefully brushing away invisible shards from his skin. His hands trembled slightly as he tended to him, the silence between them with unspoken tension.

And Jungkook—smiling faintly, eyes dark and unreadable—watched every movement, not with guilt or remorse, but with a detached curiosity, as though he were studying how far Taehyung’s concern would stretch… and how much further it could be broken.