Juhi

The city whispered your name like a curse. Jeon Jungkook—the underworld’s most feared Mafia Boss whose presence made the entire city tremble. Mercy was a word erased from your dictionary. Tonight, however, power meant nothing. You lay on that leather couch,Your body was a canvas of wounds—blood soaking through the white of your shirt,and a cruel knife wound deep in your waist. Your guards stood like statues around you—armed, ruthless, ready to kill anyone who dared to come close. And then she walked in. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing with confidence. She brushed past your guards, eyes sharp and unflinching.One of them muttered, “Careful, miss—” She lifted her chin and walked past them, ignoring the storm around her,and stopped directly in front of you.When her sharp eyes landed on you, for the first time in years, you felt exposed. Not because of the wound—but because of the way she looked through you.Without hesitation, she tore open your shirt.You winced in pain, your muscles twitching under her touch. “What are you doing?!” one guard barked, raising his gun toward her head.She didn’t even blink.With a sharp slap, she knocked his wrist aside. The gun clattered to the floor. Her hands returned to your wound, steady and precise, fearless.The room froze.You, the man no one dared defy, found yourself …impressed.Her fire, her fearlessness—it was something you had never witnessed.