PROJECT K001

Untitled Part 59

The roar of the world outside had reached a fever pitch.

News anchors spun endless speculation. Social media ignited with theories. Every media outlet scrambled for exclusives. And at the heart of it all—without a single word to the press—was Jungkook. Not as a silent shadow, not as a name hidden behind ink and brush, but standing, poised between the two most elusive, powerful men in the city.

His face was still not shown.

Not completely.

Every photo was carefully controlled, every camera angle directed. His hair obscured much, oversized sunglasses did the rest. But his voice—his stance—his identity as Koo—was no longer deniable.

Behind the estate's closed doors, the world could only guess.

But inside... everything had changed.

That morning, after the storm of cameras and whispers faded behind tall iron gates, the estate settled into a curious stillness. The kind of hush that came not from silence, but from awe. The staff moved differently, as though passing holy ground. The air held reverence.

And in the private sunroom overlooking the garden, Jungkook stood barefoot, his long shirt fluttering slightly against his thighs as he pressed both palms to the tall windows.

Outside, the first warm breeze of spring stirred the magnolia trees.

A soft voice broke the calm behind him.

"You didn't sleep much."

Jungkook didn't turn, but his lips quirked. "Neither did you."

Taehyung padded closer, his silk robe tied loosely at the waist, collarbones visible where the fabric parted. He stopped beside Jungkook, resting a palm against the glass just next to his.

The sun lit their profiles—one dark-haired, delicate, glittering like paint come alive; the other sculpted, quietly intense.

"You were brilliant yesterday," Taehyung murmured.

Jungkook's lashes fluttered. "I wasn't scared."

"I know," Taehyung said. "That's why it was brilliant."

A moment passed, filled only with the breath between them. Then, quietly, Jungkook asked, "Do you think they'll come for me now? The people who knew me... before?"

Taehyung's jaw tightened slightly. "If they try... they won't get far."

"Even my parents?"

Taehyung hesitated. Then: "They let you hide. We won't."

Jungkook turned his head slowly toward him, heart pressing a little tighter in his chest. "I don't want to be hidden anymore."

"You won't be," came a third voice—low, deep, cutting into the space like a protective blade.

V had entered silently, still in dark slacks and a cashmere shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the scar Jungkook had once traced with wondering fingers.

He came to stand behind Jungkook, one hand resting on his waist, the other cupping the side of his neck.

"No one touches what's ours," he said simply.

And Jungkook believed it. Every word.

Later that afternoon, a quiet meeting unfolded in the main lounge.

The room was warm with honey light as the three of them sat around a large oak table. On its surface lay folders—confidential ones—marked with logos and signatures from elite firms, galleries, international collectors.