treinta y siete | despedida

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Translation for Spanish words
used in this chapter —

Despedida farewell
Gazpacho — a cold soup made of raw, blended vegetables — a classic Spanish dish for the summer
Bailarin — dancer

Jeon Jungkook left the prison a millionaire.

His own business. He now had the business his father prided in.

He stopped as his hands clutched Coco.

Not your father. Sir Jeon is not your father.

As he climbed atop his horse, riding for Hoseok's, this thought settled itself uncomfortably in his mind.

Jungkook was fatherless. Well, not really, but for 24 years of his life, he had believed that the cruel businessman who had nearly killed his friend was not the man who assisted in his creation.

As he neared the shanties, he wondered who his real father was. His mother could not tell him of course, and I'm sure Sir Jeon would refuse to name him either.

Something in him, however, didn't want to know. If this man who'd truly planted a seed inside his mother and abandoned the sapling, why should he bother to turn up at his doorstep a fully bloomed flower? Jungkook doubted whether the man would really care.

Or maybe he was dead, like all his relatives.

His thoughts distracted him no more when he saw his amor leaning against the slum walls, her child wrapped around her like a little monkey clinging to its mother. Seeing the dancer instantly brought a smile to his face, and she in turn offered him one when he slowed his horse down, getting off in one, graceful sweep.

"Mi amor," he greeted her, hands cupping her face and planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

Hearing the kiss aroused Jihoo from his sleep, who in turn gave the man such an adorable toothy grin that Jungkook grabbed the boy from Aeri's hold and spun him around, showering his face with a million and two kisses.

"Dada!" he squeaked in his toddler octave, wrapping his little hands around Jungkook's neck and pressing his cheeks in the dip of the man's shoulder, sputtering incoherent speech. "Mished...you."

"Dear Dios," Jungkook cursed, pulling him from his neck and looking straight in his eyes. "Did he just—"

"You heard him," Aeri answered, pride in her voice. "He's been saying some new words lately."

"Really now?" He turned to the child in his arms, eyes scrunching up in his smile. "And how's this little burrito managed to learn 'miss you' then—"

Something turned in his head, and his smile turned feline. "Guess he's not the only one saying he's missed me, huh."

Aeri's cheeks blushed the brighter, causing his grin to widen. "Piss off," she muttered, prying her child from the amused man.

"Language, mi amor, there's a child in our midst," he only cooed, free hands sliding around her waist and pulling her back to his front.

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