“-off, Hobi,” Yoongi groaned, voice deeper and rougher in lieu of its usual smoothness due to the fact that he had just woken up. He draped his forearm over his eyes to block himself from the sunlight that was beaming in through the opened curtains. He scolded himself for leaving them that way.

But Hoseok was the one he should be scolding for it.

When Yoongi returned home last night, he had decided to stare out the window over the dark, glowing skyline for a little while before he had made his way to bed, something that he did frequently after a long, stressful day. But Hoseok decided to enter, bringing Yoongi’s favorite champagne-Krug Vintage Brut 2004-and two wine glasses with him.

“You seemed a bit stressed when you walked the door so I decided that we should have a drink,” Hoseok had said, his true intentions being so very obvious just by the tone of his voice. The fondness and light concern in his voice hadn’t been able to mask the lust dripping from each word. Mostly because it was Yoongi he was speaking to. And Yoongi knew Hoseok best.

The lingered and grew considerably as they downed the entire bottle of champagne, flirting breathily and looking over the buildings of Seoul together. Just a small portion of what the 7 Point Syndicate had in their possession.

It was that way until midnight made a sudden appearance and Yoongi hadn’t seemed to want to hold himself back anymore. He had practically tackled Hoseok to the floor when the last drop of champagne was gone and the crescent moon was highest in the sky. Closing the curtains had been the last thing on his mind, the first thing being pleasing the younger as they selfishly indulged in each other against the floor to ceiling window.

Now here he was, pissed that the sunlight was basically torturing his eyes while Hoseok was snoozing peacefully on Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi hated cuddling mostly because it interfered with his sleep, and while Hoseok was aware of that, he cuddled Yoongi whenever they slept together. Yoongi would love to be upset with him and kick the man out when they were done, but he had developed a rare emotion for Hoseok that he didn’t really want to put a name to.

Naming it was acknowledging it. Acknowledging the feelings would only make his life harder.

Yoongi waited a few seconds for Hoseok to respond but only a guttural snore reached his ears. He began pushing at Hoseok’s shoulder roughly, who responded with a deep, annoyed groan.

“What, Gi?” Hoseok complained.

“I said get off. I need to close those stupid curtains that you didn’t bother to close last night.” Hoseok obediently rolled off of Yoongi’s chest to lay on his back.

“You could use a little sunlight,” Hoseok muttered before shifting around in the bed to get comfortable again. “Just saying.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi said, throwing his legs over the side of his bed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slowly stood, massaging his sore lower back in the process. He could thank Hoseok for that.

Waddling over to the curtains, he harshly pulled the curtains over the huge window, hard enough to pull the entire ing curtain down but Yoongi didn’t seem to be fazed by it at all. Once he turned around, he noticed that Hoseok had easily slipped back into unconsciousness and wished he could do the same. Usually he would have but he smelled the overwhelming wafts of Jin’s cooking seep into the room from under the door and into his nose.

When given the choice to go back to sleep or eat Jin’s food, Yoongi would pick eating, of course, because of the simple fact that no one cooked like Seokjin did. Sleep could wait at times like these.

Yoongi slipped on his sweats and a white tee he was sure belonged to Jungkook because it was practically falling off of his shoulder and groggily left the room. He descended the curved, marble black staircase, walking through the living room and into their kitchen. Seokjin was in the kitchen alone, but the dozens of papers sprawled strategically out across the granite top island and the thick rimmed glasses lying next to them confirmed that Namjoon had most definitely been in here not that long ago. Yoongi watched Seokjin quickly move around the vast kitchen, tending to different pots and skillets on the ceramic stove, something in both ovens, vegetable on the cutting board, while humming a small tune to himself.

Seokjin was completely engulfed in his own world and didn’t see when Yoongi leaned against the bar that served as a wall divider as well to watch him.

But Yoongi noticed something about Seokjin: he was more tense than usual, his head tilted downward. Almost as if he was sad.

“Is this still about the scar on your face?” Yoongi questioned.

After the run-in at the casino a few weeks ago, Seokjin had a few bruises on his body, nothing he couldn’t handle, but what bothered Seokjin the most was that the nasty cut on his cheek hadn’t faded away yet.

Namjoon constantly ensured him that it would go away and even if it didn’t fully diminish, Seokjin was still as handsome as he had always been. But that didn’t make Seokjin feel any better and it wasn’t. Now the oldest of the house was frequently walking around with his head low.

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Seokjin chuckled quietly. “This ain’t about some stupid scar on my face. It’s about the fact that I let those s lay a finger on me. Deep enough to leave a scar.”

“That just might go away, Jin,” Yoongi pressed. Seokjin finally raised his head up to look at Yoongi, disregarding his task of cooking for a short while to glare menacingly at Yoongi. So Yoongi stared just as intensely, standing his ground.

“But it might not, Yoongi. I don’t have time for the false hope you and Namjoon are trying to push into my head, alright. My face is part of my power. You know that.”

“That scar gives you even more power. Shows you have experience and you aren’t just some pretty face around here.”

At that, Seokjin smirked at Yoongi before lowering his head and turning around once again to turn off the stove burners. “Thanks, Gi. Come over here and help me finish up breakfast before Namjoon gets out of the shower. The last thing I need is for him to want to help me.” Jin sighed, waving Yoongi over.

Yoongi scoffed but obeyed without any further complaint, going to check on the rice, stirring it a bit.  

“So, what’re those papers over there for,” Yoongi asked gesturing towards the papers spaced out on the countertop with that precise methodicalness that only Namjoon could do with just a few pieces of paper.

“Jongdae came over this morning to give Namjoon a few files that didn’t look right to him and asked Joon to take a second look at it.”

Namjoon and Yoongi trusted Jongdae almost as much as they trusted Taehyung and Hoseok. The two doubted his abilities at first, but thanks to Jin asking- more like demanding- that Jongdae be given a place in the 7 Point, the man successfully gained all three of the sons’ trust.

He was also very vigilant and perceptive, meaning that if Jongdae believed that there was something off about those files, then there it was almost guaranteed that there actually was something amiss about them.

“I’ll take a look at them in a second.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. The both of them knew that Namjoon didn’t like Yoongi getting involved in business that he didn’t approve because they all knew how sociopathic and power hungry Yoongi could get when dealing with the mafia business. Yoongi understood that. He agreed that Namjoon was a bit more rational when dealing with these things.

Catching Seokjin’s glare, Yoongi smirked as he took the pot of rice and skillet of steamed eggs off of the stove top and to the dining room.

“Save us all a headache and just wait for Joon.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me and let me do my thing.” Yoongi called authoritatively from the large dining room, adorned with many decorations that were either black or red in color. Joon claimed that those colors caused him great ease.

Seokjin followed soon after with two steaming bowls in hand as he placed them in the middle of the large table with the rest of the food. Deeming the table perfectly set, he slowly but tightly gripped Yoongi’s wrist. A hint of passive aggressiveness to it. A menacing calmness.

Yoongi looked into Jin’s piercing, imperious gaze that juxtaposed perfectly with the slight smile playing upon his lips. Of course Yoongi wasn’t intimidated, but that wasn’t Seokjin’s goal. Scaring Yoongi isn’t what he wanted to do.

That’s not how the game is played.

Jin wanted Yoongi to respect him and listen to what he said without having to use fear as a factor. He doubted he would be able to get Yoongi to fear him in the first place. He loved Yoongi. He really, really did, but sometimes this conflict was inevitable.

“I said… Wait. For. NamJoon.”

But this was Yoongi he was talking to. Not Jungkook who was a bit brattish at times but had no problem with taking advice and following orders. Yoongi was the one who had been controlled for the first years of his life and had grown to hate any type of authority that wasn’t Bon-Hwa and Namjoon.

However, this time. This time, Yoongi won’t put up a fight. Just this once, he’ll listen.

“Fine.” Yoongi snatched his wrist away from Jin, who easily let go, his lips tugging down in a frown. “I won’t look. I’ll follow your orders this time, but don’t expect it too often.”

“Jin? Love, where are you?” Namjoon’s voice echoed from in the kitchen. Seokjin looked Yoongi over once more, slow and unprecedented, before he turned to go back to the kitchen. Yoongi followed.

“I’m here, love. Yoongi and I were just setting the table.”

Namjoon was sitting back at the island tending to the papers once again with those glasses pushed high on the bridge of his nose that made his eyes look way too small. He stood to tenderly kiss Jin before turning his attention to Yoongi.

“Glad you’re up. I need you to look at these files with me. I need another opinion before I make any moves or decisions,” Namjoon said, skimming over the files once again. Yoongi, a bit too quickly, grabbed the papers from Namjoon.

“I’ll go tell everyone breakfast is ready,” Jin said. He sauntered out of the room, a little slower than usual. That was no doubt just a show for Namjoon. Yoongi grimaced as he sat in the stool next to Namjoon at the island.

Just a second of skimming and Yoongi could already see the major mistake that bothered Jongdae and Namjoon so much. It bothered him too.

The exportation and importation of weapons have always been the 7 Point Syndicate’s main income, bringing in the highest profit each month. This department in particular had connections all over the world, hence the fact that Taehyung was in America for that exact reason. There was usually inconsistencies found within their ion ranks and sometimes their assassinations don’t always go smoothly, but that wasn’t the case for weapon exportation. That was their most consistent department and was something their father had put lots of time and money into making it as such.

So what Yoongi couldn’t understand was why there was an increase in exportation of guns and weapons but a decrease in profit. “What the hell is this about?” Yoongi slid the papers back over to Namjoon.

“That’s why I needed you to look this over with me. This never happened before daddy said he was planning retire. You think there’s some going down over there with some of daddy’s men since daddy’s leaving?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Namjoon knew damn well there was foul play going on here. There was no questions about that matter.

“You know there’s something going on, Joon-”

Suddenly, the sound of their front door opening caught their attention. “I’ve returned!” Taehyung yelled, his deep voice hoarse from presumably sleeping on the plane and in the car.

“And Taehyung is exactly who we need to talk to for any real answers,” Yoongi finished. It wasn’t long after Taehyung obnoxiously announced his arrival that Jungkook’s heavy footsteps were heard as he descended each step. Usually, the boy walked lightly, no one would even hear Jungkook walk into the room normally. But in the mornings, Jungkook dragged his feet and caused an earthquake with every damn step he took.

Because of the open concept of the first floor of the suite, Yoongi and Namjoon could see Jungkook grouchily slumping down the staircase with Seokjin and Hobi close behind from where they were sitting at the bar. Until he saw Taehyung that is.

“You’re back.” The boy gave a tired smile while he descended the rest of the stairs to wrap himself in Taehyung’s frame. Yoongi could vaguely see Jungkook’s lips move and Taehyung’s lips tug up into a smirk.

It caught Yoongi’s eye, but pushed it to the back of his slightly foggy mind.

“It’s nice to have you back, Tae,” Jin waved domestically. Hoseok just grunted his greeting, still half asleep.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi called. “We need you in here for a second.” Instead of Taehyung coming into the kitchen like they expected, Jin entered.

“Namjoon, are you not going to come eat?” Jin asked impatiently.

“We’ll be there in a second-.”

“I worked hard this morning to make breakfast and you’re just gonna let it get cold? That’s how you show your appreciation when I made breakfast because you guys had a rough night?”

“Jin, I said-”

“Namjoon, I said come eat. Now.” With that, Jin his heel and stormed away and presumably into the dining room. Yoongi glanced at Namjoon in his peripheral and watched him take a silent deep breath before placing both hands on the island and pushing the stool back to allow himself space to stand.

Yoongi smirked at Namjoon’s hooded eyes as a result from slight irritation.

No one talked to Namjoon like that. Not even their father because Namjoon didn’t let anyone talk to him with any authority. He was the heir. The men and women of the 7 Point Syndicate talked to him like the inferiors they were. That’s why men prefer to stay silent when Namjoon demanded something, just to avoid saying anything that would tick the heir off. Because getting on Namjoon’s bad side was quite the easy task.

But Jin- Namjoon’s sweetheart, his princess- he was different. What Jin wanted, Jin got. God forbid Jin ever made a request out of anger. No one would know what would happen, they just knew something would happen. And no one in his path would be safe.

Namjoon had always had a soft spot for Jin after he found Jin fighting against three men for his life and the last bit of innocence in an alleyway more than five years ago.

He respected Seokjin with every working bone in his body and would do anything for the older. Even put business aside to eat the breakfast the man cooked on his behalf.

But as soon as Jin left, Taehyung entered with an awkward but amused glint in his eyes, obviously aware of Jin’s outburst. His fingers nervously fumbled with the knot of his tie yet his face was as nonchalant as they come.

“Guessing we’ll be eating first, right boss?” Even Taehyung’s tone sounded natural and unbothered. He just had to gain control of those jittery fingers of his. Namjoon only chuckled.

“Yup,” Yoongi said, following Namjoon precisely. “We’ll meet in the lounge after breakfast. Make sure you tell Hoseok twice. He’s probably still half asleep.”

“Got it,” Taehyung said.

 

****

 

To Yoongi, Taehyung looked a little more than just spaced out. He was practically on the verge of unconsciousness while attempting to shovel some food into his mouth during breakfast. There was no doubt that Taehyung would need to rest for about three days to get over the jet lag.

Hoseok volunteered to clean off the table as Jin and Namjoon had a quiet conversation in hushed voices before reminding everyone to meet in the lounge. While Jungkook helped Taehyung out of the dining room, Yoongi decided to pass by the kitchen with Hoseok.

Hoseok had successfully placed all of the dishes into the dishwasher and was currently topping a flute with wine. “Was the bottle of champagne last night not enough?” Yoongi teased, going to stand next to Hoseok.

“Just need a little something to relax me before our little meeting in the lounge. Don’t worry, last night was most satisfying and was more than enough.” Hoseok winked as he raised the glass to his lips to take a long gulp of the red wine. Half of the glass of empty now.

“I know. You were very vocal about it.”

Hoseok met Yoongi’s suggestive glare with just as much intensity. Yoongi raised a pale but strong hand to take the flute from Hoseok’s hand. The wine was red like velvet. Red like the blood Yoongi loved so much. Yoongi raised the glass to his nose, humming in delight at the sweet smell. It smelled oddly like his sister, a perfume she would wear.

Yoongi gulped down the rest of the wine. Hoseok smirked.

“Let’s go. Hopefully it won’t be too long and I’ll be able to satisfy you in return, Yoongi .” Yoongi could feel the threat and authority in Hoseok’s words and as his name rolled off of Hoseok’s lips. This type of authority and control, Yoongi didn’t mind.

 

 

 

“Okay. I know you need sleep, Taehyung, but Yoongi and I need some answers,” Namjoon said when Yoongi and Hoseok finally entered. He reached over to hand the files over to Taehyung who was sitting next to Jungkook on the plush, red velvet sofa, but Jungkook took the files instead.

Taehyung, who was slouched against the armrest of the sofa, immediately straightened in response to Namjoon’s demand for answers. The command was so short in words yet so imperious in word choice. Straightforward and to the point. That was too unlike Namjoon to only mean ‘answers.’

Namjoon had too many layers to him. Too many dimensions to his thoughts. His mind was as complex as they come; his orders, decisions, and plans were always planned and articulate. Nothing about Namjoon was simple.

So when Namjoon simply said “explain,” everyone’s blood ran cold in their veins.

When ‘we need answers’ was all that left Namjoon’s lips- and not to mention Jin’s gaze fixed directly on him- Taehyung could’ve combusted from anxiousness. He was grateful that he was good at concealing his thoughts; Taehyung remembered that he just had to hide his hands. Because they were most definitely trembling.

Taehyung leaned over Jungkook’s shoulder to look over the files. These files were from the department he was in charge of: exportation and importation of weapons. Jungkook flipped through the files listing the names of his men, the weapon count, and statistics until the they both were looking at the last page.

“What?” Jungkook grimaced. Taehyung was sure they had seen the same thing. The profit had decreased this month and the sales had increased.

“I-I don’t know what happened here, sir.”

“I know that. You’ve been in America for the last few weeks,” Namjoon said, taking notice of Taehyung’s nerves. No one in this house called him ‘Sir.’

“We wanted to know what possibly could be going on,” Yoongi followed. “What you might have in mind to explain this.”

Taehyung thought for a second, racking his brain for anything peculiar he had heard of while he was away. This proved to be harder than usual because Taehyung’s mind was literal mush right now, begging to be given a rest.

“Oh,” Taehyung recalled. “Our usual clients in America didn’t order as many weapons as they usually do. There is a possibility that this is just a one time thing or there is just a shortage in their business but I thought you should know. There was also another thing that was of more importance though. While I was away, one of my men called and reported some suspicious activity going on in the system database. I called Hoseok to scan the system and possibly find any trace of foul play.”

“And what was found?” Namjoon fixed his glasses that had began to slide down the bridge of his nose.

“There was a faint trace of someone’s else system there,” Hoseok supplied. He was sitting on the armrest of the black leather chair Yoongi was currently sitting in. “I was able to track it for awhile but I hit a dead end. But it was definitely an outside source.”

“Someone could’ve hacked his department,” Jungkook added.

“It couldn’t have been someone from the inside because then there would be no tracks left,” Namjoon pondered out loud.

“There’s a large possibility we were hacked. Probably taking away some of our profit made this month. That could explain the drop in profit despite good sales.”

“But someone could’ve also hacked the system in a different way,” Yoongi offered, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip before biting on it briefly. “It’s also possible that we just had low sales this month, it matches with Taehyung’s reports from America. It’s possible that someone hacked into the databases to make it seem as if more guns were sold when in reality, the guns were stolen.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“That’s a pretty backwards way of thinking about it, Yoongi,” Jin said with a raised eyebrow. While his tone was laced with disbelief, Jin’s facial expression showed that he was actually considering Yoongi’s explanation.

“Well in the mafia, you can’t really think straightforward,” Taehyung added.

“Either way. It means that it hadn’t come from someone in Taehyung’s department. If it did, then there wouldn’t be any traces to follow. So at least we can confirm that the threat is coming from the outside.” This time, Namjoon pushed his glasses to the tip of his nose to pinch at the bridge in thought.

“I would barely call this a threat, Joon” Yoongi scoffed. Hoseok looked down at Yoongi with a frown, but Yoongi ignored it.

“Who do you think it could be?” Jungkook asked, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. By that gesture alone and the tone of his voice, low in feigned thought, let them all know that Jungkook was just as aware about who it was as they were.

“We know it’s the Lotus, Kook,” Yoongi sighed. “I mean who else has men that skilled in hacking to do this and not leave behind any trackable traces.”

“What about those streetgangs. There’s a bunch of those around Seoul.”

“That’s exactly what they are. Streetgangs, nothing more. Those gangs do nothing more than rep their gang and shoot at each other. Do you really think they are a threat of any kind.” Jin mocked.

“What about the agreement between Daddy and Kang-Dae. I thought they agreed to keep the peace? The Lotus wouldn’t just break the agreement like that.”

“That’s between Daddy and him. Not me and Jongin,” Namjoon easily countered. He was suddenly interested and confused about why Jungkook seemed so defensive. Making a billion excuses for, not just anyone or anything but for the Lotus Syndicate, of all things. Yoongi noticed it too and it caused him some discomfort. It even made him a bit angry at Jungkook for his inability to think and make decisions without being so empathetic.

It rendered Yoongi both perplexed and cynical of the youngest as he drummed his on the leather armrest of the chair.

“What’s the matter, Kook?” Jin’s voice was soft and motherly, it always was when he was speaking to Jungkook. No matter what the situation and or the circumstances, Seokjin was always like the mother that Jungkook never had. Yoongi had to admit, Jin was somewhat of a mother to him too.

“I just… have a really bad feeling about this. The peace between us and the Lotus has been for the best for some years now.”

“Well this was going to happen sooner or later, Kook. And I think it’s time to show the Lotus ing Syndicate which of us are the better of the two.”

 

 

 

As soon as Jimin shut off the warm water spewing from the shower head, he was met with the sound of Jongin yelling Baekhyun’s name followed by something else that he couldn’t hear as clearly. Jimin pat himself dry before going to look into the mirror at himself.

This had become an unusual habit of Jimin’s: looking at himself in the mirror after his showers. He’d focus on his silver hair first, the way it framed his face perfectly and complimented his brown eyes. He’d then focus on the youthfulness of his features, both scolding and appreciating them. He’d lastly look into his eyes as if he was trying to communicate with the boy in the mirror.

Asking him a million questions about who he was, who he was meant to be, and who he wanted to be.

But the silver-haired, innocent boy would only stare blankly back at him, telling Jimin that he in fact didn’t know either.

Jimin pulled on a black shirt and a pair random pair of pajama pants on before exiting the bathroom. The chill air that hit his skin as soon as he stepped out gave him chills and he shivered violently. The freezing marble tiles beneath his feet was in no way helping him warm up.

He rushed to his dressers and pulled out a pair of socks to slip on. Even with the socks on, another chill ran through him, but much to his discontent, Jimin knew he’d just have to wait until he warmed up a bit.

When he did open his bedroom door to go and find his brothers, he was easily met, yet again, with Jongin’s voice. This time he hadn’t yelled but Jongin was still talking rather loudly.

“Baekhyun, this is the third time this happened. I’m not gonna let this slide anymore. Some of our men were killed this time.”

“ Some.”

“Any at all is too damn much. It’s time we take action before it’s too late.” Jimin furrowed his eyebrow, slowly making his way down the hall, sliding along the flawless white walls and stopping right at the doorway of their office.

“I understand it’s the third time but just starting a full blown war with the 7 Point without having any guarantee that this was their doing wouldn’t be good on our part either.” Baekhyun’s voice was low but peremptory nonetheless. “You are still the heir, Jongin. Plus, we still have no idea who is doing this. It could anybody. Going off of your assumptions could lead the Lotus in the wrong direction. We need more information about this. Assess the situation before acting recklessly… remember?” Their mother’s words.

There was a quick pause. Jimin took that time to say something and make his presence known.

He was no stranger to the mafia now but he most definitely was far from being fully acquainted with the business either.

For the last month, Jimin had been pretty much learning the basics of being part of an empire. Remembering names of important people, learning how to read the significant files, deciphering encrypted emails and codes, and even how to handle a few firearms. He was put under the watch of Kim Minseok who was also in head of hacking, technological engineering, and explosives in the Lotus Syndicate.

If Jimin was a genius with technology, then Minseok was a ing mastermind. There was nothing the man couldn’t trace or hack, no security wall he couldn’t get pass, no explosive he couldn’t detonate. Jimin had wanted to absorb every word the man said and usually did, especially Minseok’s confidence.

Minseok had just as much of a boyish appearance as Jimin did, with wide, innocent eyes, and a crooked, tilted smile. But even with all physical attributes seemingly against him, Minseok had the confidence and skill to earn his respect. The respect that Jongin and Baekhyun spoke so highly of.

Jimin wanted it. Yearned for it. And nothing was going to stop him from getting it.

Jimin was still soft spoken and quite emotional; he doubted that would ever change, but he was selfassure enough to include himself in the conversations about business that his brothers usually left him out of.

“What’s the problem?” Jimin walked into the room and moved one of the black and grey cushioned chairs from against the walls and placed it in front of Jongin’s desk. Baekhyun was currently sitting on the edge of the desk while Jongin was lounging back in his rolling chair, laptop opened and angled between the two of them.

Baekhyun and Jongin shared a glance before sighing deeply. “Some of our men were making a delivery of and it went completely array. They were ambushed and this time, some of our men were killed. Most got out alive, but this is still bad. There’s no doubt that the police are all over the scene and we have the attention on us now,” Jongin explained.

“That was probably the point of the ambush,” Jimin said. “Throw us off our game. Put us in a panic. Does mama and daddy know about this?”

“Yeah. They’re on their way actually. Should be coming pulling up.” Jongin pushed himself towards the window to look out of it. He stretched his neck somewhat, searching the front yard, or what he could see of it, for any sight of their parents’ Rolls Royce Ghost. He grumbled complaints to himself when he hadn’t caught sight of it.

“Anyway, we need to figure out what we’re gonna do and how we’re gonna ing assert our dominance again.”

“I told you already, Jongin. It’s not in our best interest to just place all the blame on the 7 Point Syndicate, even if there is a large possibility that it is them. You’ve been in this mafia business as long as I have, you know that a large percentage of possibility doesn’t mean 100% guaranteed. We need to ensure 2000% that this is the 7 Point Syndicate behind this.”

This talk of percentages caused Jimin to tense up as he remembered the game played Jongin and Kyungsoo played with Eito. That day he had learned exactly what percentages were in this mafia. Even if Eito had a 90% chance of picking the correct barrel that night, there was always room for him to get it wrong because it wasn’t a 100% chance.

Probability.

Percentages were a measure of probability. And the Lotus Syndicate didn’t accept probabilities, possibilities, or maybes. Never. They wanted answers that were factual and backed up by assessed information. That’s why Jongin needed Baekhyun, like their father needed their mother.

KangDae taught them how to act when put into a tough situation, but Asami taught them how to listen, think, and act later when there was time for such things.

Jongin was like KangDae in this situation while Baekhyun was like their mother. Jimin was stuck in between, possessing both all and none of their qualities.

“And how will we do that, Baek?”

“We send someone in. Infiltrate their headquarters, find out their intentions, and act from there. Remember that there isn’t a time limit here.”

“But there is . This is the third time evidence of foul play was found. This time was not just incredibly obvious but was a threat to us. They interfered with our drug trafficking, our top department. Just imagine what they are gonna do next.”

“Well we better send this person in soon,” Baekhyun commented.

“But you can also take charge without retaliating completely. Let whoever this is know that they are never gonna get away with it again and that we are taking drastic ing measures against what their doing,” Jimin added, straightening up his posture to create a demeanor of confidence.

Jongin smirked at Jimin with an undeniable sense of pride to his gaze and expression. “You’re right, Jiminie,” Baekhyun smiled rubbing at his head with the heel of his hand. “So Jongin… Who’re we gonna send to the 7 Point?”

Jimin immediately began thinking also, thinking over his mental list of men that he had memorized. Minseok was an amazing choice but he was needed here. Kim Junmyeon could also be an acceptable choice but he was literally over all departments when Baekhyun and Jongin was unavailable. He was something of a secondary leader, working closely with Minseok.

While Jimin was deep in thought, Jongin and Baekhyun had both set their glares on him, looking over him closely. Thinking over everything the youngest brother had learned in this past month and how well he had taken in this new role and responsibility, Jimin had always been really good at acquiring new skills and areas of expertise, but what they weren’t sure of is how well he worked under pressure.

Because this job was going to be more than just difficult and mentally devastating for just a pawn. But to make Jimin a queen, he needed to be able to get on the other side of the board, conquering it, and earn his respect and promotion on the board.

Baekhyun and Jongin looked back to one another and exhaled deeply. They nodded once. They both believed that Jimin could do it.

 

 

It was safe to say that their mother was completely against the idea of Jimin not only leaving but going into the 7 Point headquarters. Jongin, Baekhyun, nor Jimin had ever seen their mother so angry. Even showing this much emotion was rare. The veins were bulging against her tanned but reddened skin of her forehead. Her voice was dangerously hoarse as she reasoned and fought with KangDae, refusing to back down.

If Jimin hadn’t been so shocked, he probably would’ve noticed the tears b in his mother’s eyes.

“No! And that’s final! No, I won’t let you send Jimin anywhere. Send Junmyeon or Minseok, I don’t care. Anyone that isn’t my Jimin.” Asami slammed her hand hard against the wall, almost tearing through the layers of plaster. KangDae was standing a good distance away from her to avoid being hit but was trying his best to console her, voice firm yet soft.

“Asami, you have to understand that Jimin is an adult now. He wants to prove that he is worthy and this would be the perfect situation to allow him to do something that matters to the Lotus.”

“He is worthy, Kang Dae! He doesn’t need to put himself in the utmost of danger to prove that.”

“Jimin is the only one who can do this, Asami, please!” KangDae finally closed the distance between him and his wife and grabbed for her hands, but she raised a hand, pulling it back as if she was going to bring her hand down across his face.

Baekhyun, Jongin, and Jimin froze as they awaited the impact. Even KangDae did but-

“Mama please,” Jimin said suddenly. Almost immediately, Asami’s face softened into a heavy frown as she dropped her hand to her side. Looking into her somber gaze hurt KangDae yet he kept an expressionless face as Asami looked directly in his eyes.

“I want to do this. I can do this, Mama.”

Asami sighed and looked over at Jimin, who was still sitting in the cushioned chair he had settled into earlier before they arrived. “Fine, Jimin. If this is what you want, then you can.” She then shifted her gaze from Baekhyun, to Jongin, and finally her husband.

Silence.

“However, heed my words. If I can’t bring Jimin back… I will raise hell. Not just on the 7 Point, but the Lotus, and all of Seoul. No one will be safe, you can guarantee that.”