𝖤𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖮𝖿 𝖲𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Eleven years.

Some people spent eleven years building families.

Some spent them chasing dreams.

Others spent them trying to forget.

Y/N Willson had spent eleven years becoming someone impossible to destroy.

Once upon a time, she had been known for her softness.

For the way she smiled without needing a reason.

For the way she trusted people too easily.

For the way she had loved one man so completely that she had believed the entire world could collapse around them as long as they still had each other.

Jeon Jungkook.

Her fiancé.

Her best friend.

Her partner.

Her first love.

And eventually, the person whose name she had trained herself not to say.

Eleven years ago, their relationship had ended with accusations neither of them had bothered to question deeply enough.

Photographs.

Messages.

Perfectly timed evidence.

Evidence that had convinced Y/N that Jungkook had betrayed her.

Evidence that had convinced Jungkook that Y/N had done exactly the same.

Neither of them knew that the photographs had been edited.

Neither of them knew that people much closer to them than they could ever imagine had carefully orchestrated every single detail.

Neither of them knew that their separation had never been an accident.

And perhaps the cruelest part of all—

Neither of them had stopped loving the other.

They had simply buried that love beneath hatred.

Y/N buried hers beneath blood.

Jungkook buried his beneath power.

Eleven years later, the two people who had once planned a future together ruled opposite sides of the world.

Y/N Willson was the most powerful woman in the American underworld.

Her organization controlled networks stretching from California to New York, from legitimate corporations to criminal empires hidden behind doors the government would never find.

People feared saying her name.

Not because she was reckless.

Y/N Willson was dangerous because she was intelligent.

She didn't need to raise her voice.

She didn't need to threaten people repeatedly.

She didn't need to prove what she was capable of.

Her reputation had already done that for her.

There was a saying among the organizations that operated beneath the surface of America.

If Y/N Willson enters the room calmly, run.

If she's angry, pray.

Because the woman who had once cried over losing the love of her life no longer cried easily.

She had become cold.

Calculated.

Merciless toward those who deserved it.

Yet there was one person capable of making every wall around her disappear.

One person who could look at the most feared woman in America and see nothing but his mother.

August Willson.

Eleven years old.

Intelligent beyond his age.

Stubborn like his mother.

And unknowingly carrying his father's eyes.

Jeon Jungkook had no idea that his son existed.

And Y/N had spent eleven years making sure that secret remained buried.

But secrets had a terrible habit.

They never stayed buried forever.

𝐘/𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The sound of the ocean crashing against the cliffs outside my house should have been peaceful.

Instead, it was irritating me.

Everything was irritating me today.

The files spread across the massive desk.

The ringing phone.

The guards constantly walking through the hallways

The fact that someone somewhere had decided it was acceptable to steal from one of my businesses.

I slowly leaned back in my chair, staring through the enormous glass windows overlooking the California coastline.

Morning sunlight reflected across the ocean.

Beautiful.

Peaceful.

Almost deceptive.

My life looked beautiful from the outside too.

A massive estate hidden behind private gates.

Luxury cars.

Money.

Power.

An organization powerful enough to make politicians nervous.

Yet behind all of it was a life I had never expected to have.

Eleven years ago, I thought I would be married by now.

I thought I would have a house somewhere peaceful.

Maybe Korea.

Maybe America.

It hadn't mattered where.

Not when I had believed I would be with him.

My jaw tightened immediately.

I hated where my thoughts were going.

"Mom?"

The single word instantly pulled me from my memories.

I turned around.

August stood in the doorway with his school bag hanging lazily from one shoulder. His dark hair was slightly messy, and his uniform shirt was only half tucked in.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

"Don't say it," he warned.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Your shirt."

"Mom."

"August."

He sighed dramatically.

"You're becoming annoying."

"I'm your mother. It's literally my job."

"It's eight in the morning."

"And?"

"I shouldn't have to deal with criticism before breakfast."

A laugh almost escaped me.

Almost.

August walked into my office and dropped his bag onto the couch before fixing his shirt himself.

Eleven years old.

And already acting like he paid the bills.

I watched him carefully.

Sometimes, when he wasn't looking, I searched his face for things that belonged to me.

His expressions.

The shape of his smile.

Certain habits.

And then there were things that didn't belong to me.

His eyes.

God.

His eyes.

Dark.

Intense.

The same eyes I had spent eleven years trying to forget.

I looked away before my thoughts could continue.

"You have school."

"I know."

"Then why are you standing here?"

"Because I wanted to ask you something."

I looked at him again.

The tone of his voice had changed.

Less playful.

More serious.

"What?"

He walked toward my desk.

"Can I stay at Liam's house this weekend?"

I stared at him for a few seconds.

"Liam?"

"My friend from school."

"I know who Liam is."

"Then why did you repeat his name?"

"Because I like making you nervous."

He narrowed his eyes.

I smiled.

Actually smiled.

One of the very few people capable of pulling a genuine smile from me was standing directly in front of me.

"His parents will be home," August continued. "And his mom already talked to you last week."

"I remember."

"So?"

I pretended to think.

"No.

His mouth fell open.

"Mom!"

"I'm joking."

"You are actually evil."

"You've been telling me that since you were five."

"Because it's true."

I leaned forward and rested my arms on the desk.

"Yes, you can go."

His expression immediately changed.

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're the best mother in the world."

"Interesting. Five seconds ago, I was evil."

"You can be both."

I laughed quietly.

August suddenly leaned across the desk and hugged me.

The movement was quick.

Natural.

Something he had done since he was little.

But every single time he did it, something inside my chest softened.

I wrapped my arms around him.

For eleven years, I had built an empire.

But August?

August was the reason I had survived long enough to build it.

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"You're going to work today, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Don't kill anyone."

I pulled back slowly.

"What?"

He shrugged.

"Last time you said you were going to work, three people disappeared."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

"You're grounded."

"You can't ground me for stating facts."

"I can do whatever I want."

"No, you can't. I have rights."

I pointed toward the door.

"School. Now."

He laughed and grabbed his bag.

"Love you!"

"Love you too."

The words left my mouth automatically.

August disappeared through the doorway.

The moment he was gone, my smile faded.

My office became silent again.

Cold again.

I looked down at one of the files.

WILLIAMS ORGANIZATION — UNCONFIRMED MOVEMENTS

My fingers stopped moving.

Williams.

Joseph Williams.

The name had appeared too many times recently.

For years, his organization had remained relatively quiet.

They had never been allies.

But they had maintained distance.

Until recently.

Someone had been moving weapons through American territory without permission.

Someone had been interfering with several of my operations.

Someone had started asking questions about things that should have remained in the past.

I opened the file.

My eyes moved across the photographs.

Warehouses.

Shipping routes.

Names.

And then one particular image.

A man exiting a building in New York.

I immediately recognized him.

One of Joseph Williams's closest associates.

My expression darkened.

The door opened behind me.

I didn't turn around.

"Tell me something useful."

A familiar laugh echoed through the office.

"Good morning to you too."

I glanced over my shoulder.

Kim Jennie.

One of the very few people in this world who could enter my office without an army of guards announcing her arrival.

She wore an expensive black suit, sunglasses resting on top of her head.

Eleven years had changed all of us.

But Jennie?

Jennie still had the same confidence she had possessed when we were younger.

The same sharp tongue too.

"You look terrible," she said.

"Thank you.“

"You haven't slept."

"I slept."

"When?"

"At some point."

She crossed her arms.

"That's not an answer."

"Then don't ask stupid questions."

Jennie walked toward the desk and looked at the files.

Her expression immediately changed when she saw the name.

"Joseph Williams."

"Apparently, he's bored."

"Or planning something."

"He wouldn't dare."

Jennie looked directly at me.

"He has been daring quite a lot lately."

I leaned back.

"I know."

Silence passed between us.

Jennie was one of the only people who knew almost everything about my life.

Almost.

She knew about August.

She knew who his father was.

And she had kept that secret for eleven years.

There were moments when I wondered whether that secret was destroying her too.

Because Jennie hadn't only been my friend.

She had once been his friend as well.

"Did you hear from them?" I asked without looking at her.

Jennie froze.

I noticed.

Of course I noticed.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't insult me by pretending you don't know."

She slowly sat down in the chair opposite mine.

"Y/N."

"Jennie."

A sigh escaped her.

I already knew.

I could see it in her face.

"You've spoken to them."

"I speak to people."

"Which people?"

She remained quiet.

My eyes narrowed.

"Jennie."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I asked."

She looked toward the windows.

I knew exactly who she was avoiding mentioning.

The people we had all once called family.

Kim Taehyung.

Park Jimin.

Park Rosé.

Min Yoongi.

Lalisa Manoban.

And him.

Jeon Jungkook.

For eleven years, I had stayed away.

Not because I was afraid.

Because sometimes walking away was easier than standing in front of the people who reminded you of everything you had lost.

"I don't talk to Jungkook," I said coldly.

"I didn't say you did."

"But you do."

Jennie's silence confirmed everything.

Something bitter moved through my chest.

I hated that it still affected me.

Eleven years.

And somehow, his name could still change the temperature in a room.

"How is he?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Jennie looked surprised.

I immediately regretted asking.

"I don't care."

"You just asked."

"Forget it."

She studied me.

"He hasn't changed much."

My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand.

"Good for him."

"Y/N—"

"I said I don't care."

Jennie stopped.

Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

Then my phone rang.

Saved by an interruption.

I looked at the screen.

SECURITY DIVISION

I answered immediately.

"What?"

"Boss, we have a problem."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

"Talk."

"We intercepted information from one of Williams's men."

"What information?"

The voice on the other end hesitated.

That was never a good sign.

"Apparently, their organization isn't working alone."

I stood up.

"With who?"

"We're still investigating."

"Then investigate faster."

"There's more."

I closed my eyes.

Of course there was.

"What?"

"A shipment connected to them disappeared near the Pacific route."

"And?"

"Asian territory."

My eyes opened.

Jennie was watching me carefully.

"Which organization?"

Another pause.

I hated pauses.

"Jeon Organization."

The entire room became silent.

For the first time in years, I felt something unfamiliar crawl beneath my skin.

Not fear.

Never fear.

Something worse.

A memory.

A name.

A man I had spent eleven years pretending didn't exist.

Jeon Jungkook.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐏𝐎𝐕

"Say that again."

Nobody in the conference room moved.

Nobody breathed too loudly.

That was one thing people learned quickly around me.

When I spoke quietly, it was worse.

Taehyung stood near the massive screen displaying several maps.

"We lost contact with the shipment three hours ago."

"Three hours?"

"Yes."

"And you're telling me now?"

"We only confirmed the disappearance twenty minutes ago."

I stared at him.

Taehyung remained completely calm.

One of the reasons he was still alive.

He wasn't intimidated easily.

Around the table sat the people who had been beside me for years.

Jimin.

Yoongi.

Jennie.

Rosé.

Lisa.

Taehyung.

My family.

Not by blood.

But sometimes blood meant absolutely nothing.

"Who took it?" I asked.

"We don't know," Yoongi answered.

"But the route was intercepted from the American side."

I slowly leaned against the table.

America.

Of all places.

My jaw tightened.

"Joseph Williams?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly isn't an answer."

Jimin pushed another file toward me.

"His organization has been moving unusually for the past few months."

I opened it.

The name stared back at me.

JOSEPH WILLIAMS

"Interesting," I muttered.

"What?" Rosé asked.

I looked at the documents.

"He's not powerful enough to move like this alone."

"Exactly," Yoongi said.

"So someone is helping him."

Taehyung pressed a button on the screen.

A map appeared.

Different routes were highlighted.

"Whatever they're planning involves Asia and America."

My expression remained cold.

"And?"

"And the American routes are heavily controlled."

I knew where this was going.

I didn't like it.

Jennie, who had remained unusually quiet until now, finally spoke.

"If we want answers, we need access."

"To what?"

"The American network."

I looked directly at her.

She held my gaze.

No one else seemed to understand the sudden tension.

Except Taehyung.

Of course he did.

Taehyung knew too much.

"Who controls those routes?" I asked.

Nobody answered.

I already knew.

I just wanted someone else to say it.

Jimin leaned back in his chair.

"There is only one organization powerful enough to give us access."

My jaw clenched

"No."

The word came immediately.

Rosé looked confused.

"Jungkook—"

"No."

Taehyung sighed.

"You're being irrational."

My eyes snapped toward him.

"Careful."

"Someone needs to say it."

Silence.

Eleven years.

Eleven fucking years.

And somehow, the universe had still found a way to put her name in front of me.

Y/N Willson.

The woman I had once planned to marry.

The woman I had believed had betrayed me.

The woman who disappeared from my life and became a ghost I couldn't escape.

I had heard stories.

Everyone had.

Y/N Willson was no longer the woman she used to be.

She had become something else.

The number one mafia leader in America.

Cold.

Brilliant.

Untouchable.

And apparently just as heartless as the day she had destroyed everything between us.

"I won't ask her for help."

"Then we may lose an entire operation," Yoongi replied.

"I said no."

Jennie suddenly stood.

Every eye turned toward her.

"You don't have to like it."

My gaze hardened.

"But this isn't about your feelings."

Her words landed sharply.

Jennie had always been brave.

Maybe too brave.

"This is about the organization," she continued. "If Joseph Williams is creating an alliance between Asia and America, we need to know why."

"And you think Y/N Willson will help us?"

"I think she hates losing more than she hates you."

The room became painfully quiet.

I stared at Jennie.

She stared back.

There was something in her eyes.

Something strange.

Something she wasn't saying.

I knew Jennie.

I had known her for years.

And when she was hiding something, her expression became almost too controlled.

My eyes narrowed.

"You've spoken to her."

She didn't answer immediately.

Interesting.

Taehyung looked away.

Even more interesting.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing that concerns this mission."

"Jennie."

"Jungkook."

My voice lowered.

"Don't test me."

She didn't flinch.

"Then don't force everyone around you to walk around the subject you've spent eleven years refusing to confront."

My hands pressed against the table.

Anger crawled through my veins.

Not because she was wrong.

Because she wasn't.

I hated Y/N Willson.

That was what I had repeated to myself for eleven years.

I hated her.

For the photographs.

For the betrayal.

For walking away.

For never trying hard enough to explain.

For moving on.

For becoming a stranger.

I hated her.

At least, that was what I told myself.

"Arrange the meeting," I finally said.

Nobody spoke.

I straightened my suit jacket.

"But I want it clear."

My eyes moved around the room before stopping on Jennie.

"This is business."

Jennie's expression didn't change.

"Of course."

"There is nothing personal about this."

Taehyung looked at me for a few seconds.

Then he laughed quietly.

I turned toward him.

"Something funny?"

"No."

"Then why are you laughing?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

I knew that look.

He didn't believe me.

None of them did.

Because everyone in that room knew something I refused to admit.

You could travel around the world.

You could build an empire.

You could become powerful enough that people feared your name.

But sometimes—

There was one person who could destroy every wall you had built simply by standing in front of you.

And after eleven years of silence—

I was about to stand in front of Y/N Willson again.

I just didn't know yet that she wasn't the only secret waiting for me in America.

Somewhere across the ocean was an eleven-year-old boy.

A boy with my eyes.

A boy carrying my blood.

A boy who had spent his entire life without knowing his father.

And neither of us knew that our worlds were about to collide.

Because some secrets could survive for years.

But not forever.

⸻

Eleven years ago, they said goodbye believing they had been betrayed.

Now, they were about to meet again.

And this time, the truth would have nowhere left to hide.

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝...