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Present~

The knife was digging into Kim Taehyung's thigh. He wasn't supposed to be here. The thought echoed in his mind repeatedly, his nerves wound tightly even as he tried to appear calm.

Holding his champagne glass aloft, he pretended to sip from it while his eyes scanned the crowd. Though a few sips of the bubbly could have soothed his frayed nerves, Taehyung resisted. He needed a clear head more than liquid courage tonight. Maybe. Hopefully.

The party was in full swing, held on the sprawling lawns of a Park family estate.

Damn Black Throne.

It was a good thing he had spent the last few days researching as much as he could. From his vantage point in the shadows, Taehyung surveyed the well-lit garden, recognizing faces he had seen in the news over the years and some he had encountered in his own home growing up.

He noticed the Black Throne's soldiers, stoic as they mingled, and the women who adorned the arms of the men they accompanied. And then, there were the enemies.

Ignoring the itch beneath his wig, Taehyung observed quietly. He had gone to great lengths to look like someone else tonight. The long black gown he wore hid the knives strapped to his thighs, one of which had twisted and was now pressing painfully against his skin.

A bracelet on his wrist, discreetly purchased from the dark web, contained a hidden slot for an aerosol poison unavailable on the market.

His own dark hair was bound tightly to his head beneath a silky strawberry blonde wig, and his lips were painted a deep crimson. It wasn't really him, but it was necessary.

He had been planning this night for days, relying on his meticulous preparations to succeed. He couldn't afford to mess up-not now, not when he was so close.

Taehyung's gaze shifted to the mansion towering behind the crowd. It resembled an ancient castle buried in the hills of Scotland-a beastly hybrid of modern mansion and primeval fortress.

It was an imposing structure that harbored something of his within its walls. As the cool night air, fragrant with blooming flowers, brushed against his skin, Taehyung subtly shook off the chills creeping over him.

The sound of a man's boisterous laughter drew his attention. His eyes lingered on a gray-haired man laughing with a group in the northern corner of the property. Taehyung studied the man's face, lined with age, and his hands, which appeared clean from a distance.

But he knew better-those hands were stained with blood. So much blood. In their world, it was almost a badge of honor, yet this man had carved out a place for himself as one of the bloodiest, even surpassing Taehyung's own father.

Park Dae-Hyun was the boss of The Black Throne. With a career spanning over four decades and a criminal history longer than Taehyung's arm, Dae-Hyun's ruthlessness was revered. But Taehyung had been around men like him for too long to be shaken, or at least to show it.

Standing beside Dae-Hyun was his older son, Park Jimin. Although his handsome features might mislead some, Taehyung's research had warned him not to underestimate Jimin. Built like a fortress himself, Jimin towered over most, his physique solid.

If rumors were true, he had taken on a significant role within the organization nearly a decade ago.

Taehyung pretended to sip his champagne again, exchanging a polite smile with a woman who glanced his way before letting his gaze drift to the man standing silently beside Jimin.

Jeon Jungkook

He was an enigma. The only non-blood member to have taken the oath within the family, Jungkook held a high rank in The Black Throne, though no one was quite sure where he fit in the hierarchy. Speculation abounded about his exact role, but the truth remained elusive.

Taehyung took in Jungkook's appearance-tall, even slightly taller than Jimin, dressed in a casual three-piece black suit without a tie. His dark blonde hair, tousled yet controlled, framed a face with sharp angles and a striking presence.

Jungkook's large, almond-shaped eyes bore a piercing, focused gaze that seemed to assess everything and everyone around him. His thick, angular eyebrows added intensity to his expressions, while his straight but prominent nose gave him a commanding structure.

His lips were full but set in a firm, controlled expression, emphasizing his serious demeanor. A strong, chiseled jawline and high, pronounced cheekbones contributed to his sculpted look, making him all the more formidable. Even from a distance, Taehyung could see the striking blue of his eyes, piercing through the crowd.

He had seen pictures of Jungkook before-candid shots where his expression was always remarkably blank. It was a familiar look in their world, but Jungkook took it to another level.

While Jungkook's muscular build was certainly noticeable, it wasn't the reason Taehyung couldn't look away. It was the stories he'd heard about him over the years, usually overheard during his father's conversations.

According to the stories, Jungkook had been the son of Park Dae-Hyun's personal bodyguard, who had died protecting the boss nearly twenty years ago.Jungkook, still a child at the time, was left with a mother who disappeared shortly after.

For reasons unknown, Dae-Hyun had taken the boy under his wing, training him personally in the ways of The Black Throne. Now, Jungkook was like a son to Park Dae-Hyun, perhaps even more favored than his own children.

Rumor had it that after Dae-Hyun's retirement, Jungkook-not Jimin-would take over as boss.

Jeon Jungkook, "The Predator."

The nickname suited him. He rarely went on the hunt, but when he did, it was decisive and brutal-no distractions, no playing around. For all his calm demeanor, the man was deadlier than the knife pressing against Taehyung's thigh.

And he was the reason Taehyung had come to this party.

He was going to kill Jeon Jungkook.