Chapter 117

                                    

                                          
           I brush my teeth, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. I hate looking at myself right now.
"Shit," I mutter under my breath, spitting out the foam and rinsing my mouth. I shuffle back to bed, slipping under the blanket.
Should I keep crying?
I hate him for this.
But I can't even sleep because my mind is spinning with worries about the future.
Then again, did I go too far? I doubted him, accused him of being untrustworthy with our children because of his mafia life. Did I hurt him by saying that?
But how can I trust him? He wants Seol to inherit his empire, and now with another child, what if they end up like him and Taehyung—locked in some bitter fight for power?
I bury my face into the pillow. I deserve to be angry. Damn it, Jungkook.
An hour passes. The door opens softly, and I hear it close with deliberate care.
Jungkook.
I hate you.
He slips into bed beside me, moving carefully under the blanket until he's facing me. I feel his gaze, and when our eyes meet, I quickly turn my back to him.
"Why do you hate me so much, babe?" His voice is quiet but tinged with frustration.
"We shouldn't have more than one child," I mutter, my tone sharp.
"Why?" His voice hardens. "Do you doubt me?"
"No," I reply, exhaling shakily. "It's fate, Jungkook. With your mafia life, one child is enough—no, it's not just enough. It has to be. Otherwise, everything will be a mess."
He's quiet for a moment, but I feel his anger simmering beneath the surface.
"Don't talk about my mafia life like you understand it better than me," he says, his voice cold and firm. "I can have as many children as I want. My life, my power—none of it will be dictated by fate or fear. And you..." His tone softens slightly, but it's no less intense. "You need to trust me."
"No, I don't want to," I say, my voice defiant, sulking.
He tilts his head to study me, his expression unreadable. "Why so stubborn, Y/N? Headstrong like a rock. A mountain rock."
I frown, furrowing my brows and turn to look at him. "What?"
"Stubborn," he repeats, his eyes gleaming.
"How dare you, Jungkook," I snap, irritation bubbling.
"Yes, so what, stubborn girl?" he challenges, his gaze unwavering, as if daring me to push back.
"I hate you," I say, my voice trembling as I hit his chest. I quickly turn my back to him, but his grip on my wrist stops me, forcing me to face him again.
"How to knock that strong rock out of your head, Y/N? Tell me," he says, his tone more persistent, almost gentle.
"Are you crazy? I'm not stubborn!" I snap, pulling my hand away, but he doesn't let go.
"You don't listen to me when I try to have a conversation," he says, his voice lowering, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You keep turning your back and shutting me out."
"Because you don't understand, Jungkook!" I shout, my voice breaking as the words spill out. "You don't know what it's like to feel this way. You don't know what's going on in my head!"
His jaw tightens, lowering his voice. "I might not always understand, Y/N, but I'll always try to. Why don't you give me the same chance?"
"You'll never understand because you refuse to see your mafia life as the problem," I snap, my voice rising.