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Reincarnated as the stepson of a mafia mob [BL]

Lee Gongyun is a successful bachelor and a confident man. He is also wealthy and pampered by his family. He loves himself so much that people call him the Narcissistic Prince. He has many achievements, and people respect him for being athletic and having a brilliant mind. Gongyun has it all. The only thing he lacks in his life is romance. That's right—Lee Gongyun is naive and inexperienced when it comes to love or romantic feelings. He is also oblivious to the admiration of others. No one ever taught him about romantic love; Gongyun only understands platonic and familial love. Everything is fine as it is, and he accepts this kind of life. He doesn't complain, convinced that he's living well enough, without any bother. But one night changes everything. He dies at the hands of an obsessive stalker—a stranger who proposes love and takes his life as payment. He wakes up as the stepson of a mafia boss, in a world that is similar to Earth but very different. Gongyun has become the inferior, idiotic son of the most powerful man in the country. Chaos ensues. (The book cover isn't mine—credits to the rightful owner.)

minniepens · LGBT+
Sin suficientes valoraciones
171 Chs

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jamie's gaze fixed on the man who entered the room. The piercing look in his father's eyes was almost enough to make him shiver, but the aloofness of their past interactions had steeled him against the oppressive aura.

"Good day, Father," Jamie greeted, mimicking the familiar formality of his old self.

"Kim Min Jamie. You've changed," his father replied, his murky eyes giving nothing away, making Jamie's task of deciphering his emotions all the more difficult.

"Yes, Father. I had to," Jamie said steadily, maintaining eye contact despite the icy atmosphere that hung between them.

"Do you know why I called you here?" His father's tone was serious, but Jamie could sense a subtle edge of challenge beneath it, as if this meeting were a test.

"I apologize, Father. Something happened a month ago that... compelled me to hide and reinvent myself... for my safety," Jamie said, his voice unwavering. While his expression remained unreadable, he allowed a trace of apprehension to creep into his tone, just enough to hint at his underlying fear.

"Who dares to challenge a Kim?" His father's voice was as cold and unyielding as stone, clearly displeased by the idea of anyone, even someone as insignificant as Jamie, cowering before a threat.

"I came close to dying that day, Father," Jamie replied, his tone dripping with dramatic gravity. "Someone nearly killed me, and though Joon found me eventually, I managed to escape just in time." He sighed theatrically, his eyes reflecting a blend of terror and relief as he pretended to relive a harrowing memory.

"Joon never mentioned any threat," his father said, raising an eyebrow and smirking, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

Jamie felt a surge of irritation. The bastard was doubting him.

"Joon didn't notice? I thought he was adept at handling such matters..." Jamie's voice trailed off suggestively, his words laced with a subtle mockery only he and his father would fully understand.

"I've had someone look into it," his father said dismissively, as if the matter was already settled.

"Thank you, Father," Jamie said, bowing with a sigh of relief.

Jamie slammed the door behind him, the finality of the gesture underscoring his realization. His father's indifference was clear: Jamie wasn't a valuable son in the old Kim's eyes, and for once, he was glad for it. He couldn't challenge a king... yet.

Back at home, Jamie headed for his room, craving the comfort of sweatpants or pajamas. But when he opened the door, he was struck by an unexpected sight.

The room was a stark disappointment. Cream-colored wallpaper lined the walls, giving the space a dull, lifeless look. A small double bed, a modest cabinet, and minimal bedding—a single pillow and a thin blanket—furnished the room. The wardrobe was almost laughable, a pathetic arrangement of clothes barely enough to fill a rack.

A vicious smile twisted Jamie's lips, one he reserved for moments when his ego was bruised. The state of the room ignited a fury in him. No one, absolutely no one, had ever offended him like this. His narcissistic soul recoiled at the violation of his personal space. His face flushed with rage. How dare his room be so pitiful?

He could barely contain his anger. The thought of sleeping in such a dismal room was unbearable. The space needed a complete overhaul—no, an immediate transformation. He wanted it done in three days, or the itch of dissatisfaction would drive him to destroy everything in his path.

He stormed out, a storm of fury and resolve in his wake.

Jamie stormed over to the intercom, dialing the main butler's number with a cold intensity. He crossed his arms tightly, struggling to suppress his urge to scream. He knew that if he let his rage loose, the situation would escalate beyond control—something he had learned well from his days as Gongyun.

"Young Master Jamie," the butler greeted, his expression as impassive as ever, dressed impeccably in a dark suit.

"It won't be long, but I want every single thing in this room thrown out. Burn it all," Jamie demanded, his voice tight with fury as he clenched his teeth. The butler's eyes widened in surprise at the outburst.

"I want everything to change immediately! This place is atrocious. How dare someone design such a hideous room? I need an interior designer here in less than five minutes. I want this room remodeled now. I'll be in the living room. Make it quick." Jamie's eyes flashed with irritation as he rolled them dramatically before turning on his heel and striding away, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface.

End of chapter 8.