Y/N’s POV
The heavy metal door slams shut behind me, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room. The air is thick with dampness, the chill seeping into my skin. A single bulb flickers above, casting eerie shadows against the stone walls.
I stumble forward as I’m shoved inside. The guards remain silent, their expressions blank—like this is routine, like locking someone away is just another part of their job. Their footsteps retreat, and then—
Click.
The lock turns.
Silence.
My breath comes in short, sharp bursts, my chest rising and falling with restrained panic. But I refuse to let it consume me. If they want me scared, they’ll have to try harder. I force my fists to unclench, steadying myself.
I take a slow look around. The room is bare—a small bed, a worn-out table, and a steel door with no handle on the inside. No windows. No way out.
Trapped.
I move to the table, dragging my fingers along its edges. Solid wood. Heavy. Maybe useful as a weapon. The bed? Useless. The flickering bulb above? Too high to reach.
Damn it. Nothing.
A wave of frustration surges through me, but I shove it down. Losing control won’t help. I need to think. Plan. Survive.
—
Hours Later
The silence is shattered by approaching footsteps—slow, deliberate.
I tense, turning toward the door as my pulse hammers in my ears. The lock clicks open, and the door swings wide.
And there he is.
Kim Taehyung.
He stands in the doorway like he owns the world. Like he owns me. The air shifts with his presence, thick with unspoken power. His dark eyes sweep the room before settling on me—unreadable, calculating.
Two guards stand behind him, rigid and waiting.
"Comfortable?" His voice is casual, almost amused.
I glare at him, jaw tight. "Do I look comfortable?"
His lips curl into a smirk, as if entertained by my defiance. "You have a bed, don’t you? Some people aren’t so lucky."
Anger burns through my chest, but I refuse to let it show. I know what he’s doing—testing me, seeing how far I’ll push back.
"Why am I here?" I demand, my voice firm.
Taehyung steps forward, closing the distance between us. I don’t move. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me back down.
"You saw something you shouldn’t have." His voice is calm, yet laced with quiet threat.
I hold his gaze, unwavering. "So? I don’t even know who you are. Let me go, and I won’t say a word."
He chuckles, low and dark—like he’s heard this before. Like he doesn’t believe me. Because he doesn’t.
TAEHYUNG :
"You expect me to trust the word of a stranger?"
"Then kill me." The words leave my lips before I can think twice.
A beat of silence. The air thickens, heavy with something unspoken. Taehyung tilts his head slightly, studying me. For a fleeting moment, I think he might actually do it.
But then, he smirks.
TAEHYUNG :
"I already told you, I’m not going to kill you. Not yet."
The not yet sends a cold shiver down my spine. He’s keeping me alive for a reason. But what?
Taehyung turns to leave but pauses at the doorway. He doesn’t look back as he speaks.
"I’ll see you soon."
The door shuts. The lock clicks.
And that’s when it sinks in—
Y/N POV'S
This isn’t just a prison.
This is a game.
And I don’t know the rules.
AFTER A DAY
Y/N’s POV
Time is a cruel trick in captivity. Hours, maybe days, pass without meaning. There are no windows, no clocks—just an endless loop of silence, interrupted only by the sound of footsteps outside the door.
I don’t waste time waiting. I study the room, searching for weaknesses, a way out. But the reality is clear—escape won’t be easy.
And then, the door opens.
Two guards stand there, their expressions unreadable. No words, no explanation. Just a silent command. I don’t fight. Not yet.
They lead me upstairs, my hands unbound, but my path blocked. The house is massive—high ceilings, grand chandeliers, elegant but suffocating. The kind of place built to hide secrets.
I’m pushed into a room. The door clicks shut behind me.
And there he is.
Kim Taehyung.
He sits at his desk, calm as ever, his gaze unwavering as it settles on me.
TAEHYUNG :
"Sit."
His voice is slow, savoring the moment. I don’t move.
"I’d rather stand." My tone is sharp, defiant.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He leans back, amused.
TAEHYUNG :
"Stubborn. I like that."
I don’t react, but my jaw tightens.
"What do you want from me?" I demand, crossing my arms.
The smirk fades. His eyes darken, studying me with unnerving focus.
TAEHYUNG :
"You saw something you shouldn’t have. That makes you a liability."
I don’t flinch. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
"Then kill me."
A chuckle escapes him—low, dangerous. He shakes his head.
"You keep saying that, but we both know you don’t want to die."
Silence. I don’t reply.
Taehyung rises from his chair, walking around the desk. He stops just inches away, close enough that his presence becomes suffocating.
His voice drops, soft but deadly.
"Tell me, Y/N… should I trust you?"
I hold his gaze, unflinching.
"You shouldn’t."
For a brief moment, surprise flickers in his eyes. Then, he laughs—a deep, rich sound that sends chills down my spine.
"Honest. I like that too."
He steps back, giving me space, but the air between us remains thick with tension.
"You’re not leaving. Not yet. But how you spend your time here is up to you."
I narrow my eyes.
"What does that mean?"
He gestures toward the guards, his voice calm, almost indifferent.
"You can rot in the basement. Or… you can behave, and maybe I’ll give you a reason to stay alive."
I clench my fists. This is a test. A game. But I won’t play by his rules.
"I’d rather rot."
Taehyung tilts his head, watching me with quiet amusement.
"Let’s see how long that lasts."
With a nod, the guards move. Their grip is firm as they drag me toward the door.
And then, just as I’m pulled away, his voice follows me—calm, patient, full of quiet warning.
"You’ll come to me eventually, Y/N. They always do."
The door closes behind me.
And for the first time, doubt creeps in.
Because deep down, I know—Kim Taehyung is not a man who loses.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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