27

"What's your plan?" Seokjin asked beside me.

"They are scared, Seokjin," Hobi said as we walked out of my office.

I tried to keep my anger in check but it was coursing through my body with such ferocity that I was shaking with it.

Ever since the news went out that I had killed Jung-ho, and his petty little son-in law, people were scared. Considering I killed a Boss and took over, they knew I was serious with threats.

"No one will be getting to my people. I will make sure of it. Namjoon, I want you to keep an eye on everyone. Make sure the Watchers are on task and reporting everything back," I replied in a calm voice, even though I was feeling anything but.

"Yes, Boss," he replied quickly before giving us a nod and walking away.

Turning to Hobi, I nodded at him. "Let the main families know that we will be visiting. I want to talk to them personally."

He nodded in response and quickly fished his phone from his pocket. After typing furiously for a few seconds, he placed it back into his pocket.

"Done," Hobi said.

If my enemies thought they could overpower me and take my Empire, then they were highly mistaken. I had built this empire with my bare fvcking hands for almost ten years.

Half of my life is dedicated to making it the strongest Jopok family - Vante.

I wasn't giving up now and I sure as hell wasn't losing to any fvcker.

We were walking down the stairs when a sudden scream stopped us in our tracks.

Yoongi already had his gun out and I saw Hobi and Seokjin reaching for theirs.

My eyes widened when I heard my name.

Reaching behind my back, I took out my gun too.

"That's Jimin's voice," Namjoon hissed, but I was already running back up, taking two stairs at the time.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I paused, looking left and right as I tried to figure out where he was. I heard his scream again, with my heart pounding hard in my chest, I turned toward his voice.

"Shit," I whispered. It was coming from Jungkook's room.

The door was open.

Pointing my gun forward, I pushed the door wider with my other hand. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my men were in a similar position.

I gave them a sharp nod before moving inside.

They followed close behind.

Walking further inside the room, I tensed when I didn't see anything.

The room was empty, except someone was sobbing.

Turning to the side, I saw the door of the washroom open and the lights were on.

Before I could move, Hobi walked over to the door and pushed it open.

"Oh, shit! Shit! fvck!"

He panicked and rushed inside.

My heart was wild and my stomach dropped at Jimin's cry.

I followed Hobi, but when I got closer, the smell of blood hit me. My eyes went wide in alarm and I ran inside.

The sight almost brought me to my knees.

Jimin looked up at me with tearful eyes and sobbed. "Jungkook. H-He… "

Jungkook was covered in blood.

His doe eyes were closed and he looked deathly pale.

A look I never wanted to see on him.

Rushing forward, I sank to my knees beside Jimin.

"Here," I heard Seokjin say beside me. I glanced up and saw that he was handing me some towels.

"We need to put pressure on his wounds to stop the bleeding."

He was right.

We had to stop the bleeding.

"Call Sam!" I ordered harshly, without tearing my eyes from Jungkook's face.

Taking the towels from Seokjin, I placed them on the cuts and pressed down gently.

He didn't move.

Not even a flinch.

Jimin was still crying silently, his chest heaving with each quiet sob.

Leaning forward, I took Jungkook from his arms and pulled him closer to my chest, not caring one bit that I was getting blood all over me.

I brought a hand up and palmed his cold, pale cheek.

"Jungkook?" I whispered, my voice sounding hoarse and strange even to my ears.

He didn't respond.

Jungkook laid limp and still in my arms but he was breathing.

It was faint, but it was there, Jungkook was alive and I forced my brain to accept that fact even though it felt like my heart was being split into two.

The pressure building there was unbearable and my stomach cramped almost painfully.

The last time I felt that way was when I witnessed my mother's death.

I sucked a painful breath at the thought and shook my head.

No.

This wasn't happening again.

I won't let it.

Wrapping my arms tightly around Jungkook, I stood up. I kept my eyes on him as I walked out of the bathroom and made my way to his bed.

Gently placing him on the mattress, I sat down beside him and pulled his arms forward so that I could continue putting pressure on the wounds.

With his eyes closed, his face so pale, his black hair cascading on the pillow, he looked so fragile.

Vulnerable.

And so broken.

The sight made my heart ache, I closed my eyes at the flash of pain.

I shouldn't have been feeling this way, it hurt seeing Jungkook in this state.

And I couldn't understand why he would do something like that.

He seemed happy.

Opening my eyes, I stared at his arms.

Why would he try to kill himself?

Even though I asked the question a hundred times in my head, I could guess the answer.

But I wanted to know the real truth.

I didn't want to assume anymore.

I leaned forward slightly and brushed away the few strands of hair covering his face.

I let my fingers linger there, hoping for a reaction from him.

When I didn't get anything, I sighed and took my hand away.

Jungkook's chest was moving slowly up and down, his breathing slightly laboured.

I felt powerless as I stared at him.

Shifting my eyes away from him, I looked at Seokjin, who was standing behind me.

His face was grim and worried. "Where is Sam?" I growled.

Sam, also known as Dr Samuel, our doctor who lives on the estate. The hospital wasn't always a good choice and we needed someone who would be quick on their feet without asking us questions. The best option was having someone in the same lifestyle.

And Sam fit the role perfectly.

"I'm here," Sam said as he rushed forward.

His gaze roamed over Jungkook. "Damn it," he whispered.

Sam leaned forward and I regretfully let go of Jungkook and stood up, moving out of his way.

He sat down in my place and took the towel off from Jungkook's hand, slightly hissing at the sight.

"Is it bad? How bad is it?" I asked as pins and needles crept up my legs. I grew more panicked when I saw Sam's pensive face.

He shook his head and whispered while he continued to inspect Jungkook's cut.

"I need to clean the blood away to see how bad it is. His breathing is shallow, but it is okay. His heart rate isn't that bad either."

That was good.

That should be good.

I kept repeating the words over and over again in my head as I tried to calm down.

Sam cleaned some of the blood from Jungkook's arm and we saw a long cut going vertically up his arms.

I wanted to roar, I couldn't imagine the pain that he must have been through.

The thought of him going through this felt like a serrated edge over my thumping heart.

"Thank fvck!" I heard Sam breathe out.

"What?" I asked, leaning forward.

"The cut is not that deep. Cutting vertically could be deadly but he didn't put much pressure in the cut, so no major artery or veins were damaged," he explained.

"Jungkook is lucky, he is still alive. It's obvious he's lost some blood, but not a lot. He was found fair quickly. I wish I could use skin glue. It would be less painful but the best option is stitches."

He looked up at me, waiting for my response.

Why the fvck was he waiting?

"Just do it then. Stop wasting time!"

He nodded and got to work.

It took him a few hours to clean up the wound, stitch the cuts and bandage it carefully. The whole time, I paced the room, growing impatient. I couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling.

As the minutes and hours passed, no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I couldn't.

I was worried.

Scared.

And helpless.

Jimin was still silently crying.

Namjoon had his arms wrapped around him, trying to calm him down.

Yoongi and Seokjin were both leaning against the wall, trying to look disinterested but they were worried by the look on their face.

Yoongi's cold face was ashen and he kept his eyes on Jungkook, while Seokjin was fidgeting around, clearly showing his nervousness.

And Hae-sook.

She almost fainted when she came into the room. Seokjin had to take her away as she cried.

"Done." Sam sighed from his spot next to Jungkook.

I stopped pacing and shifted my gaze to Jungkook.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jimin asked, his voice soft and croaky from the tears.

"If you are talking about his wound, yes. I stopped the bleeding. He is breathing fine. But emotionally and mentally, I don't know. This could have been a suicide attempt, but if it was, he would have cut deeper. As long as he stays unconscious, we won't get our answers. But what's more important is figuring out why so we can help him."

"But there was nothing wrong with him," Jimin argued as he stepped out of Namjoon's protective embrace.

"Did he try this before?" Sam asked.

"Not that I know of," Jimin replied. He walked closer and sat down beside Jungkook.

"There could be a lot of factors in play. The biggest of them all is depression. Something led him to do this. Does he have nightmares?"

My eyes widened.

"Jungkook has nightmares. He was even hallucinating that he had blood on him."

"Nightmares, hallucinations, and a suicide attempt," Sam said, his gaze still on Jungkook. "My best guess is a post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Fvck," I swore, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

It was right there in front of me.

It was so fvcking obvious and yet I didn't see it.

Or maybe I didn't want to see it.

I had refused to acknowledge his pain.

I saw Yoongi moving away from the wall and he took a protective step forward.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Sam expectantly.

"PTSD?" Jimin questioned. "You mean that something happened to him?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. It could be anything. Rape, abuse, or he witnessed something," Sam explained. "Something happened that affected him to the point where he has nightmares, hallucinations, and he was so far gone that he even attempted suicide."

"He never said anything," Jimin whispered.

"A lot of PTSD patients don't say anything. Jungkook doesn't know us well enough. There needs to be a lot of trust between the patient and the person he shares his experience with."

"How do we deal with this? How do we help him? We can't let him live like this."

Jimin started to panic again, his voice rising an octave.

"We are going to help him," Yoongi said from behind me. Those were the first words he'd spoken since we found Jungkook bleeding on the floor.

"But how?" Jimin cried, fear in his voice.

"First of all, be patient and understanding with him. Don't push if he doesn't say anything. You could coax him but not too much. The best way to deal with a PTSD patient is to be as loving as you can. Show that you care and support him. Don't let him feel alone. Joke. Lighten up the mood. Make sure he is happy," Sam suggested.

There had to have been a trigger.

Rubbing the back of my neck in frustration, I tried to relieve the tension there but it was useless. My muscles were corded and tensed, my head was pounding, my stomach felt sick and my heart hurt.

I was so lost gazing at Jungkook's still form that I almost missed what Sam was saying.

"I'm going to prescribe him an antidepressant. It won't treat his PTSD but for now, it could calm him and make him feel less sad, worried or on edge. I'm also going to give him sleeping pills. It might keep the nightmares at bay. Just make sure he doesn't take too many at a time," Sam said. "I would suggest keeping the pills away from him so that he doesn't have access to them. One of you should be responsible for giving him the pills at the prescribed time."

"I'll do it," Jimin said.

"Good. He needs to be taken care of. Be gentle."

Gentle.

That wasn't in our vocabulary.

We didn't know what gentle was.

"Boss. Can I take my leave?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence.

I nodded without looking away from Jungkook.

"Jimin, you should get cleaned up," I heard Namjoon say behind me.

"Let me change Jungkook's clothing first. He is covered in blood. I will change the bedding too and then I'll go," Jimin said.

After Jimin demanded we leave the room, we waited outside the door. None of us spoke.

I paced, each passing minute without Jungkook was pure agony. I didn't like being away from him when he was in this state. The thought made me cringe. All the emotions coursing through my body felt foreign. Jungkook was making me lose control.

Fvck, I had already lost control and didn't even realize it yet.

Jungkook was deep under my skin.

He made my cold, unfeeling heart… feel.

I felt pain.

I felt sadness.

All for him.

Leaning against the wall, I banged my head in defeat and closed my eyes with a sigh.

When I heard the door open, my eyes snapped open and I moved away from the wall. "Did he wake up?" I asked. Jimin shook his head dejectedly.

"I will keep an eye on him," I said, my voice ringing with finality as I walked inside the room.

Closing the door behind me, I moved the wooden chair next to Jungkook's bed and sat down heavily on it.

I had to touch him, to feel him.

To make sure that he was alive, breathing and real.

Leaning forward in my chair, I gently rubbed my thumb over his fingers and then moved up to the inside of his wrist that wasn't covered with the bandages. I stroked the tender skin there and ran my thumb over his steady pulse.

I had learned how to mask my emotions and feelings, yet this man knew how to change it all.

In the short time that I had known him, he made me feel more than I had in twenty-two years.

Pulling my hand away, I ran them through my hair. There was no time for weaknesses.

And emotions were a weakness.

It would only get me killed.

Sitting down beside Jungkook, while waiting for him to wake up, I tried to drill that thought into my brain.

And when he did finally wake up, I had my emotions in check. Schooling my features to be impassive, I straightened in my chair when I saw him shifting in the bed.

Jungkook's eyes fluttered open and he stared at the ceiling, confused.

I saw him wince and he slowly turned to face me.

His eyes widened and he let out a shocked gasp.

"Good morning," I said.

"G-good… morning… "

"How are you feeling?"

Jungkook's forehead creased and he looked deep in thought. "I don't know. Weird. My head hurts."

Jungkook brought his hand up but he winced again. His eyes widened at the sight of the bandages wrapped around his arms. He froze, his hand still in the air over his face.

"Do you remember?" I asked, leaning forward.

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds and then nodded, slowly and cautiously.

"Jungkook, why did you do it?" I tried to keep my voice soft, making sure that I didn't spook him with my questions.

But he didn't answer.

He sighed and his hand fell back down on the mattress.

His gaze moved to the ceiling again and he purposely avoided eye contact with me.

"If you don't talk to us, we can't help you, Jungkook. And we want to help," I whispered. "Say something," I begged when he didn't answer.

It was like I wasn't even there anymore.

I moved my hand so that it laid next to his, our fingers resting mere inches apart.

"Jungkook." Sucking a deep breath in, I tried to calm my rapid beating heart. "I can assume what happened. I can guess. But I don't want to assume. I want to hear the real truth from you. Say something. Anything."

No words were uttered from him.

Nothing.

He stayed stubbornly silent.

I rubbed my other hand tiredly over my face and pinched the bridge of my nose before blowing out a frustrated breath.

This was harder than I thought.

After a few minutes of utter silence between us, I leaned closer. "You are worth more than you think," I whispered, hoping that the words would have some effect on him. "You bring happiness to others. You bring light, Jungkook. You have people who care about you. People who want to help. Let us help."

But he didn't react, his body stayed rigid as he continued to stare at the ceiling, almost unflinching.

I hated the unfairness that Jungkook had to go through. I wanted to know the truth.

No, I was desperate for the truth.

I needed to know who he was and who fvckin hurt him.

I looked down at our hands, they were next to each other but not touching. I inched my finger closer to his, feeling the heavy tension and anguish rolling off him in waves.

"Can I touch you?" I asked.

I shifted my gaze up just in time to see his eyes widening in shock at my question.

"Can I hold your hand?" I murmured, wanting another reaction from him.

But Jungkook stayed silent.

His brown eyes lost focus again.

If it was possible, he grew even tenser and I started to worry if I had pushed too hard, too fast.

Rather than answering, Jungkook slowly moved his hand. But he didn't move toward me. Instead, he took his hand away and placed it over the other forearm.

That was all the answer I got.

But it spoke volumes.

Jungkook was shutting down and refusing any comfort.

I blew out a sharp breath and then sighed as I stood up. "I just want you to know that you are loved. You matter. To Jimin. To Hae-sook." I paused and swallowed hard.

And to me.

But I didn't say it out loud.

Silence.

Jungkook closed his eyes, effectively shutting me out.

He was reclusive.

Unresponsive.

I stared at him one last time before turning around and walking away. Each step I took away from him was painful but I forced myself to take them.

He needed time alone, to think and to come to terms with what happened. I just hoped that he heard the words I said.

Because they were the truth.

...to be continued.