Still My Venus

I NEED HIM🩸❣️

Straight from the airport, Yoongi went directly to the mansion.

The moment he crossed the threshold, a suffocating weight hit him - the air thick, metallic, and heavy with the scent of blood.

He walked straight into the grand living room. There, beneath a towering crystal chandelier, sat a man in his late twenties.

His knuckles were bruised and raw, stained with blood. His dark, cold eyes slowly scanned the lifeless bodies scattered across the marble floor. A few feet away, heavily armed bodyguards stood in rigid, terrifying silence.

The man was anything but calm. Beneath his quiet posture, an unnatural, lethal storm raged in his eyes.

As Yoongi’s footsteps echoed through the silent hall, those bloodshot eyes snapped toward him. Yoongi tightened his posture, forcing his breathing to remain steady, he couldn't afford to show a single trace of weakness in front of the devil.

The man rose slowly from his chair, studying and scanning Yoongi- his trusted hitman, his most efficient bodyguard.

He came to a halt just a few steps away. Yoongi met his gaze head-on.

Standing before him were the dark, hooded eyes of the current Prince of the Underworld:

'Woo-seok.'

A fierce, unforgiving beast.

Without breaking eye contact, Woo-seok held out a hand. Instantly, a guard stepped forward and placed a white silk cloth into his palm. Woo-seok wiped the blood from his knuckles with harsh, methodical movements before tossing the silk back to the guard.

He took one step closer, invading Yoongi’s space.

"Any news of him?" Woo-seok asked. His voice was low and dangerously calm for his appearance, yet it cut through the room like a laser.

"Nothing," Yoongi answered. Short, firm, and absolute.

Woo-seok’s jaw clenched so hard the veins pulsed along his temple. He closed his eyes, taking a sharp, ragged breath as he fought to suppress the boiling rage threatening to consume him.

"Go..." Woo-seok whispered, his voice trembling with restrained violence.

"...before I lose my mind and put a bullet through your head, just like the rest of them lying on this floor."

He gestured faintly toward the dead bodies currently being dragged out by the remaining guards.

"I ordered you to find him. Immediately. It’s been a week since he disappeared, and you bring me nothing? I don't want excuses. I NEED HIM. Full flesh and blood. Do you understand me?"

He lowered his voice into a lethal, whisper-scream, each word laced with venom to ensure Yoongi wouldn't dare fail him again.

Yoongi gave a single, firm nod.

"Get out." Woo-seok turned his back, pacing back toward the sofa.

Yoongi exhaled a silent breath before turning on his heel and storming out of the hall.

"Track his phone," Woo-seok ordered in a low tone to the guard standing near the sofa, his eyes never leaving Yoongi’s retreating back as a devilish glint sparkled in his black orbs.

As soon as Yoongi was gone, Woo-seok’s dark gaze softened seeing his phone screen lit up on the glass coffee table. He reached down and picked it up, staring intently at the wallpaper.

"Come back to me... my love," he murmured, his voice breaking into a tender, terrifying devotion.

His thumb gently hovered over the display, tracing the screen as if caressing a soft cheek.

On the screen was a picture of a breathtakingly beautiful blonde boy in a crisp white shirt, smiling softly into the camera.

✨_______________✨

Taehyung stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring blankly at his reflection.

He looked like a stranger.

The person standing there was merely a hollow shadow of the boy who existed an hour ago.

His bright blonde hair was gone, replaced by a deep, flat black. His striking amber eyes were now hidden beneath dark contact lenses. To finish the disguise, he slipped on a pair of plain, thin-framed glasses.

Everything that made him himself was now shielded, buried underneath a false mask, everything except the deep, lingering pain etched into his soul.

He stood still for a long moment, evaluating the disguise.

Perfect.

No one would recognize him now. Or at least... that was what he desperately tried to believe.

✨_______________✨

Taehyung waited until dusk settled over the city, waiting for the safety of darkness before heading out to buy a few essentials.

Yoongi had already stocked the apartment generously, the refrigerator was full, and the pantry held everything needed to prepare simple meals. But Taehyung needed to step outside. He needed cold air to clear his head, and more than anything, he needed to test his new identity.

He pulled an oversized grey hoodie over his head, tucking his dark bangs neatly under the hood. The glasses rested firmly on the bridge of his nose.

He locked the apartment door, slipped his phone and the new debit card Yoongi had provided into his pocket, and stepped out onto the evening street.

The Japanese evening air was crisp and chilly. Taehyung moved like a ghost through the bustling pathway, keeping his stride light and unhurried.

He dared to look a few passersby directly in the eye, testing the waters. When no one blinked or looked twice, a small wave of confidence settled in his chest.

He liked this place.

It was quiet, detached, and peaceful. Nobody knew his name.

Nobody cared who he was.

He stepped into a local grocery store, grabbing a few necessities first, a bottle of disinfectant, antiseptics, and a box of fresh bandages. Carrying his basket, he began walking down the narrow aisles.

As he scanned through the shelves, his gaze suddenly froze on an item sitting on the middle rack.

✨______________✨