treinta y tres | cambio

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Translation for Spanish words
used in this chapter —

Cambio — change
Finalmente — finally
Mi chiquito — my little boy


Jeon estate, for the first time in decades, felt that it would not crumble under the tension between father and son.

Its obvious reason would be that the father wasn't here anymore. Gone from his home and stuck in an underground cell.

The very thought of Sir Jeon in chains, possibly singeing himself in anger, brought a smile to the boy's mouth.

Finalmente. Finally he has gotten what he so rightly deserved.

Smiling to himself, he laid in his hammock, guiding the sway of it with his foot. It had been another couple of weeks since the trial, and just like this he had been incredibly giddy.

He even expressed this joy to the nurse hurrying towards him, looking quite the opposite of her son.


Jungkook shifted straighter upon the hammock, smile fading at the sight of her distress. "Mamá what's wrong?"

"Mi chiquito!" The nurse exclaimed. "Where is Jimin? I've been waiting to ask him for his departure, but I haven't seen him for weeks!"

The moment that name was mentioned Jungkook felt himself stiffen all over.

That damned man. That fucking man, damn him to hell, is vexing me even now.

"I've worried about him," the woman confessed, wiping her hands with her apron. "He has eaten nothing I've given him, and ever since the imprisonment he hardly comes here."

Good riddance, Jungkook only thought over that. The next words, however, made him think anything but that.

" darling Aeri..." the nurse started, melancholy clear on her face. "She has not visited us either...I wonder if she's okay."

The boy, silent, settled back in his hammock, feeling heavier in it than before.

He, too, wondered, if she fared well.

It was shocking behaviour for the boy, not even bothering to check up on the city's favourite dancer, but in reality he dared not.

Although Jimin himself had left him, his word had not. In fact, they stayed rooted within Jungkook's mind until it was all the latter could think about.

Bastardo. Bastardo. Bastardo.

A word so irrelevant. A word which had never bothered him since he stooped to senseless whoredom and polluted enjoyment.

But why so now? Why does this one word break him every time it gets chanted?


His hazy eyes flickered to the nurse, hands akimbo as she assessed the boy.

"Your mind wonders beyond the city, child. Tell me, what is the matter?"

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