WEST WINGβ05
The guards at the passage didnβt move or question her. It was as if they had been waiting for her, and that felt wrong.
The guards at the passage didnβt move or question her. It was as if they had been waiting for her, and that felt wrong.
He tilted his head slightly, the movement subtle but dangerous, his sharp, unforgiving eyes fixed on her as if weighing how much he might enjoy watching her fight for her life.
What did Crown Prince Jeon even want from her?
Y/n didnβt speak, didnβt move. She couldnβt.
βY/n, you must never go to the West Wing.β
When the cold hearted military officer falls for an Indian girl.
She was beautiful.
βNo,β she gasped, turning back to Jungkook. βPIease,β she begged, her voice breaking.
Marco stepped closer, his breath hot against her ear. The stench of cigarettes, sweat, and something rotten clung to him, but she barely noticed.
βYour hands are too cold,β he said casually, not even glancing back at her.
Jungkook sat on the chair in the familiar office, his eyes scanning the room. It looked almost exactly the same as it had the last time he was here.