𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 || 𝐊.𝐓𝐇

⊱ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ • 𖥸 • ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⊰

The evening started like any other. I was drinking with my partner, gambling the night away, and later on, would be walking out of the casino doors with thousands of dollars in hand.

Namjoon, my fiancé, always proudly showed me off. He parades me around like a trophy. He keeps me at arm's length every night, keeping me from becoming lost, as he would say, when in reality, he doesn't want me around other men.

He's a protective man, who hates when people mess with what belongs to him, and in this case, it's me... or at least that's what he believes.

I'm not shy, embarrassed easily, or a virgin for that matter. I do what I want and could give less of a fuck who thinks otherwise. I've done my fair share of dirty deeds and won't pretend to be some innocent, little saint.

Namjoon and I don't love each other. We fuck and that's it. He gets a thrill by showing me off to men who'll never have me.

Any other girl would run from his behavior, but I don't because he's rich and has a big dick.

I'm not stupid. I know how it makes me look to society, but I don't give a shit.

Some people would rather live normally and settle down to have a family, which sounds nice to the average person, but to me, it's so mundane.

People like myself would rather act how we want and do what we want instead of struggling to live the average life most everyone else is going to experience.

What's the point in laboring every day for the same basic paycheck any average employee can make? Go to college, work your ass off to be different, then get roped in with other people who thought they would be special. It's bullshit, and our world is fucked. Plain and simple. There's no winning in a world as crooked as ours, and I, along with other smart individuals, realized that.

I have friends who are gangsters, assassins, drug lords, pimps, and prostitutes. The people I know are far from average, but at least they became special in the ways they chose to be.

Most of my friends are doing these jobs to make ends meet and others because they love the excitement. I'll admit, some of my friends are murderers but so am I, so I don't have room to talk.

Yes, my life is far from boring but would I ever trade it for a normal one? Hell no.

"Babe, this is the last game, and we'll leave," Namjoon whispers in my ear, pulling me down to sit on his lap next to the gambling table. My short, black dress rides up higher, exposing more of my thighs. "Okay?" I chuckle lightly, giving him a simple nod to let him know it's fine.

The other men who are transfixed by my body surround us, acting like they're paying attention to the upcoming game but really only want to see me up close. But who can blame them after all?

Namjoon's eyes darken to that lustful shade, and soon, his large hand is on top of my thigh, squeezing my skin lightly.

He knows these men are practically eye-fucking me, which boosts his confidence to tease me right in front of them. But I know his little tricks and don't mind indulging in his fantasy.

"Namjoon, if you don't stop, you'll get me in the mood," I say playfully, spreading my legs a little for him and watching all eyes dart to my barely separated legs. It's hilarious how easily men become needy bitches.

He chuckles at the boldness, liking the way I don't back down from a challenge.

"One more game and I'll make sure to get you in the mood." He smirks, massaging my thigh while kissing the side of my neck.

I tilt my head to the side, letting his lips brush against my skin. I shut my eyes, relaxing into him.

Namjoon's always been good in bed. He knows exactly where I want to be touched and when. It wasn't a shock when he randomly started doing these little acts in public.

After a few seconds of enjoying the feeling of my partner's hands, a different voice comes from in front of us.

I open my eyes, annoyed at the interrupting voice. Instantly, my eyes widen from the man in front of the table. He's staring down at me with a nonchalant expression.

"This seat taken?" He asks in a deep voice that sends chills down my spine. Namjoon notices but doesn't say a word.

The guy has black hair and has a slender build. He wears a solid black suit. He's got a honey-like complexion and brown eyes that are intoxicating to stare at. I almost become lost in his piercing gaze. I won't deny he's hot—definitely my type.

"Nope," Namjoon throws his free hand up for the dealer to walk over, putting on his biggest grin, so he can take every penny from the stranger. "You want to play?" Namjoon turns back to the mysterious man.

He chuckles, acting self-possessed. He calmly pulls out the chair and takes his seat as if it was made for him.

"That's why I asked if the seat was taken." The guy replies cockily, either not scared, or doesn't know who he's talking to. He's not intimidated whatsoever.

Namjoon is an infamous, drug lord. His reputation is high for making deliveries on time, so the fact this guy is so cool and collected is unbelievable. He has a large reputation, and everyone who's anyone important knows him.

Namjoon ignores the remark, deciding it's best to beat him out of the game instead of having his men kill him straight away. He sits back unfazed, hand squeezing around my exposed thigh.

"Mind if my girl chooses the game?" Namjoon asks the guy across the table.

The unknown man directs his eyes to mine once again. His gaze drags to my cleavage. He blatantly lets his eyes stay a little longer than most would; he's challenging Namjoon. Everyone here knows it. The tension in the room is rising by the second.

It takes everything not to rub my knees together because of the sight of him. God made him perfect, wholeheartedly majestic.

I wonder what he's like in bed—a beast I imagine. The type of guy who would wreck you the night before and sneak away in the morning. Those are the best kind of hookups.

That's how Namjoon and I met. The only difference is he needed a woman by his side to make him look better in public, which is why he's let me stay as long as I have.

"Not at all," he keeps his same tone, eyes moving away from me when the dealer arrives. The dealer asks the table what game.

All eyes come back to me, waiting for my pick of the game. I speak up confidently, not letting any man get the better of me.

"I choose..." I deliberately throw a carefully timed glance the stranger's way before saying the name of the game. I want to let him know I'm not fazed by his small actions, even if my body says otherwise.

"Blackjack," I let the word roll off my tongue vulgarly, making the dealer turn a shade of red by my indecorous behavior.

"B-Blackjack is it," the dealer nods, setting the table for the game.

Within mere seconds, more people surround the table, walking up, and taking good spots to see the game unfold. There are whispers near me, talking about Namjoon, myself, and the other player.

"Before we start, what's your name?" Namjoon leans up a little straighter in his seat, still holding me against his chest. I'm just as curious to know his identity, too.

"It's Taehyung," the guy says, hearing a few people comment that he's a nobody. Some people begin to walk off after hearing he's not a big shot like they considered him to be. "Kim Taehyung."

Those two words make everyone turn around and walk back to the table and then some.

The building nearly becomes silent. The machines, games, music, and all noise appear to drown themselves out, or maybe it's my imagination, but regardless, it makes my body heat up from the mysterious background of this man and the effect his name has.

"Isn't he the one who gunned down—"

"Shut up, idiot." Two men mumble not so quietly close to the table, making my gaze turn to them. I'm intrigued. I wish I heard about him before tonight.

After listening to the two men, Namjoon tenses. He knows him, too. But Namjoon quickly recovers.

"I'm Kim Namjoon—"

"I know who you are; I'm not impressed," Taehyung says with a blank expression.

Namjoon's grip tightens around my leg. He's pissed.

There are two items in this world that Namjoon will protect at all costs and that's his pride and money, but now that one has been targeted, his playful demeanor has vanished without a hint of it ever existing. It's replaced by the menacing look that's evident in his eyes. I don't have to glance at him to know the murderous glare is there.

"Well, let's get this game started, shall we?" Namjoon speaks sharply, motioning for the dealer to begin the game.

The dealer obliges and asks the men to place their bets.

"I'm all in," Taehyung speaks up apathetically, snapping his fingers cooly before someone steps up from behind him and places a suitcase on the table.

The man is wearing black shades and is dressed in a black and white suit. He's a bodyguard.

Namjoon gulps from behind me, and I know the reason why. He's never bet all in before, even in the easiest of games where he knew he would win, he still would never bet it all.

Taehyung smirks at Namjoon, parting his lips before speaking.

"What's the matter? Did your confidence melt away?" Taehyung pauses his mocking to grin, looking Namjoon dead in the eye with his piercing gaze. "Is it because you don't want to lose in front of your girl?"

When his gaze shifts to mine flirtatiously, a wave of heat rises in me. Namjoon almost snaps, but instead, he corrects Taehyung.

"I'm perfectly fine." He remarks. "I'll bet all in, too. And she's my fiancée." He fires right back, beginning to lose his composure. He places his own money on the table, holding me close to him now that I've been brought into the conversation.

"For now she is, but she may not want to stay with a man who's about to lose everything." The confidence this man is sprouting is causing shivers to travel throughout my body. I can't keep up with the sudden hot and cold sensations overwhelming my skin.

Before Namjoon can reply, the dealer starts handing out the cards. He faces them up while keeping his face down, except for one. The surrounding crowd becomes quiet and watches with their drinks and chips in hand, waiting to see who'll win the heated match.

Taehyung takes his cards in his hand comfortably, tilting his neck to the side while eyeing his two cards. Namjoon leans forward, grabbing his set and holding it close to him, too.

I glance at Taehyung. It sucks, knowing all his cash will soon belong to Namjoon.

Namjoon plays dirty, so even if there's a slight chance Taehyung could win, Namjoon will find a way out of it by cheating. The dealer is set on letting Namjoon win as well since of course, he'll get paid extra for it.

Namjoon runs his hands higher up my thigh, fingers tracing my panty line. He's nervous, and it shows. He's trying to take his mind off the game. Despite him having the game rigged, it doesn't mean he's safe from being found out later on.

"So I see you're ready to lose?" Taehyung speaks with a robust tone, unfazed by the fact he could lose the game himself. But he doesn't realize he never had a chance to begin with because of his opponent.

Namjoon laughs once seeing the subtle wink from the dealer. It's over now, even the dealer is in on this game.

Namjoon's nervousness fades away completely, ready to beat the man who threatened his pride. "Let's let the game speak for itself, Kim."

⊱ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ • 𖥸 • ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⊰