Isabel's pov

The café buzzed around me as I moved around, wiping down counters, taking orders, and offering forced smiles to the regulars. But my mind… my mind was trapped in a haze, replaying the events of that night with him on a loop. no, he still hadn’t given me his name.His presence had left an imprint on me that was impossible to shake off.

I could still feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, the low whisper of his voice, teasing me, taunting me. “You sure you want to do this, cub?” Those words played over and over in my head. It was maddening how he had this power over me, how I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Days had passed, and I hadn’t seen him since. Each night I’d close up the café, hoping he would walk through the door, but he never did.

It had been a week since that night. Every time the bell above the door chimed, my heart raced, but it was never him. The more time that passed, the more restless I became. Where was he? Had I imagined everything? I felt foolish, constantly looking for him, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see him again, wanted to feel the heat of his gaze on me, the way he could make me feel so small yet so seen.

By the time night rolled around, I was exhausted from overthinking, my mind heavy with his absence. As I closed up, I heard whispers from the regulars huddled by the counter, their voices hushed but filled with a sense of dread.

“Did you hear about the body they found in the next alley? It’s all over the news.”

My hand froze on the handle of the coffee pot. I glanced over, listening more closely.

“They said it’s one of his kills,” another voice chimed in, equally hushed. “You know, the ‘V’... the one they’ve been talking about for years. He disappeared, but they found a body with his mark.”

My stomach clenched. ‘V’? The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t place it.

“What’s his mark again?” a third voice asked.

“They said he carves ‘Let’s meet in hell’ on his victims’ backs with a knife, it's him he is back.” the first one said, lowering their voice further as if saying it any louder would summon him.

Chills ran down my spine as the words sunk in. Let’s meet in hell. It sounded like something out of a horror story, but it was real. It happened in the alley near the café, the same place I walked by every day,and near to my place where I live. And it happened just a few days ago.

I heard the last words from the group before they left, “If he’s back, no one’s safe.”

A chill swept through me. I was sure of one thing. Whoever he really was, whatever his past held, it was dark, who in there right mind crave something like that and too on a Human body. Dead body.

The café was quiet, a sharp contrast to the chatter that filled the place just moments before. My mind was still racing from the conversation I overheard. A body, an alley, a killer. I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It wasn’t something I needed to dwell on. Besides, he hadn’t shown up in days, and with the café about to close, I doubted tonight would be any different.

I started wiping down the counter, going through the motions of closing up, but my thoughts drifted back to him.

Just as I finished cleaning the last table, the familiar sound of the bell chimed, sending my heart into a wild sprint. My head snapped toward the door, and there he was.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “You’re late,” I teased lightly, trying to mask the strange mix of excitement and relief that surged through me.

His eyes locked onto mine, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked further inside, his movements slow, deliberate. The other customers, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, hurriedly gathered their things and left. Within minutes, it was just the two of us.

I blinked, glancing around at the now-empty café. “You’re cutting it close,” I said, pointing to the clock on the wall. “We’re about to close.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat down in his usual seat, leaning back in the chair with that same unreadable expression he always wore. His eyes followed my every move as I started cleaning up the last few tables.

“I’m not here for the café,” he finally spoke, his voice low and smooth.

My heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way he said it, the way his gaze never wavered from me, that made my stomach flip. I felt heat creeping up my neck, but I forced a smile, trying to brush off the tension that suddenly filled the room. “Oh? Then what are you here for?”

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he continued to watch me as I wiped down the counter and packed up the last of the cups. His silence only made the air between us heavier, more charged.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye as I stacked the chairs. “If you’re just going to stare, you could at least help,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, but even I could hear the nervousness in my voice.

“I prefer watching,” he said, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes were dark, intense, and they never left me.

I chuckled, though it was shaky. “Well, I’ve only got a few more things to do, so if you’re waiting for something, you’ll have to be patient.”

He didn’t reply, just leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table as his eyes tracked my every move. The weight of his gaze was almost unbearable, and I found myself rushing through the last few tasks, suddenly hyper-aware of everything I did under his scrutiny.

Once I finished cleaning, I turned to face him, wiping my hands on my apron. “Okay, all done. So… what brings you here so late? If it’s not the drink, then what?”

He stood up, his towering figure making the small café feel even smaller. He closed the distance between us in a few short strides, stopping just a foot away from me. His presence was overwhelming, and I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes.

“I wanted to see you,” he said simply, his voice deep and velvety.

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. “You’ve seen me,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, though the intensity in his eyes was making it difficult to breathe.

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Not enough.”

I blinked, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “Well, you’re staring at me like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“Feels longer,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips before flicking back up to my eyes.

I bit my lower lip, feeling a wave of nervous excitement wash over me. There was something different about him tonight, something that made the air between us crackle with tension. I tried to play it cool, though my voice betrayed me. “You’re in a strange mood tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

Taehyung let out a low chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You ask a lot of questions, cub.”

I smiled at the nickname, warmth blooming in my chest despite the intensity of the situation. “Well, you never really answer them.”

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, but the way he looked at me was anything but. “Maybe I’ll answer them one day,” he whispered, his voice sending a jolt of electricity through me.

I swallowed, feeling my pulse quicken. There was something dangerous about him tonight, something that made me both nervous and excited. “And what about tonight?”

His smirk widened, his eyes darkening with something I couldn’t quite place. “Tonight, I just want to watch.”

"Tell me something about you."

"What you wanna know cub?" His voice is enough for anyone to get on there knees.

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze again. " I want to know you,” I whispered, surprising myself with the honesty in my voice.

“You intrigue me. I mean, you don’t even tell me your name.”

My breath hitched as he stopped just inches away from me, towering over me with that same unreadable expression. “And what would you do with my name, cub?”

I blinked up at him, my heart racing as the air around us thickened with tension. “Maybe... I’d use it to write you into one of my stories,” I teased, though my voice came out shakier than I intended.

His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile as he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You like your little Mafia stories, don’t you?”

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry as his fingers lingered by my neck.

“Well,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “Maybe you’re living in one now.”

I stared up at him, the weight of his words sinking in, and for the first time, I wondered just how deep I was willing to go, blinking up at him I move to the counter as he sat on the near by table.

Taehyung's pov

I watched her carefully, every subtle shift in her expression, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she moved closer to me, after clearing the counter.

She sat beside me on the worn-out bench, her soft form pressing against the wood, eyes darting around like she was afraid someone might overhear us. Then, in a hushed voice, barely above a whisper but loud enough for me and to everyone in the cafe, she leaned in and spoke.

"You shouldn’t come to the café for a few more days,” she said, her words hushed but clear.

I tilted my head, intrigued, and raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

She glanced around nervously, making sure no one was listening, then met my eyes again. “There’s been a murder... a few days ago, in the alley near here,” she explained, her voice quieter now, almost conspiratorial. “The body was found dumped near the trash, and... well, people are saying it was ‘V’—you know, that ruthless Mafia boss.”

At that, I couldn’t help but smirk. Of course, I knew exactly who they were talking about. Me.

But the way she said it—like she was trying to protect me, like she thought I was someone who needed her warning—it was almost... endearing.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as I looked at her with a growing sense of amusement. “And you think I should stay away because of this murder? Should I be afraid of him?”

She shrugged, completely unbothered. “I mean, it’s just a precaution. You seem like a good man, someone who doesn’t need to get caught up in that kind of mess.”

I had to bite back a laugh. Good man? If only she knew the truth.

Instead, I pressed her further, curious to see how far her perception of me went. “You’re not afraid?” I asked, my voice low and teasing, watching her closely for any signs of fear.

Her response was immediate. She shook her head, her eyes meeting mine with a calm certainty. “No. I’ve got nothing to lose except my life, and honestly... I’m okay with that.”

Something inside me snapped at her casual tone, the way she spoke about her own life like it was disposable. My hand gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white as a surge of anger rushed through me. I had heard people talk about death, even welcome it, but something about her nonchalance made me clench my jaw.

I leaned forward slightly, my voice sharp. “You don’t value your life?” I asked, more of a demand than a question.

She blinked, surprised by the sudden intensity in my tone. “I mean... it’s not that I don’t value it, but if someone were to kill me, they’d have a reason, right? People don’t just kill for no reason. And from what I heard about this ‘V,’ whoever he is, he must’ve had a reason for what he did,that man who was killed was bad and was included in drug dealing and supplying it to students.”

I stared at her, my mind racing. She had no idea she was sitting next to the very man responsible for that murder. But instead of fear, she had... understanding? As if she justified my actions without even knowing they were mine.

“The man who was murdered. The way he was killed—brutal, wasn’t it? Doesn’t that make you afraid? Knowing that there’s someone out there who’s capable of that?”

Her gaze shifted, and for a moment, she was silent, as if contemplating her answer. Then, she looked straight into my eyes those same innocent, wide eyes that always tried to see through me. And with the calmest voice, she said, “No. I’m not afraid of someone like him.”

I felt my pulse quicken, my body going still. She didn’t know she was sitting next to that very man, and yet here she was, speaking so freely, so confidently.

I leaned in closer, my lips just inches from her ear. “Why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

She swallowed, her throat bobbing as she thought for a moment, and then she looked at me again, her expression unreadable. “Because... whoever killed that man... did it for something. And if he did it that brutally, it probably means he doesn’t feel anything. No pain, no remorse

“You’re assuming he feels no pain,” I said, my voice low and controlled. “But how do you know he hasn’t felt it before? How do you know he doesn’t carry that pain with him every day?”

Her gaze softened, her eyes searching mine as if she were trying to figure out some unspoken truth. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

“But the way he kills... it’s brutal. It’s like he’s trying to send a message. People who feel pain don’t usually show it by hurting others that way. They either break or... they make sure no one can touch them.”

Her words hit deeper than I wanted them to. She was reading me without even realizing it. I was the one who made sure no one could ever touch me again, who made sure everyone stayed in line, fearing me rather than hurting me. But here she was, unafraid, sitting next to me, thinking I was some innocent man who needed protection from the very chaos I created.

“Interesting theory,” I said, trying to maintain my usual cold composure. But something about her was getting under my skin, stirring things I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I leaned even closer, my voice dropping to a near growl. “And what if I were him, cub? What if I was the one who killed that man?”

She didn’t flinch. Not even a little. Instead, she met my gaze head-on, her lips curving into a soft smile that caught me off guard. “Then I’d say you had your reasons.”

That response... it made my grip tighten on the table again. Who the hell is this girl? No one ever responded to me like that. No one ever stared at me so fearlessly, as if they could see right through me and still accept what they saw.

“You think people like him don’t feel pain?” I pressed, my voice rough with barely-contained emotion. “Don’t feel anything?”

She looked down for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully. Then, she met my eyes again and said something that floored me.

“I think people like him feel more than anyone else. They just... they bury it, deep down, where no one can reach. That’s why they kill, isn’t it? To keep anyone from ever getting close enough to hurt them again.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. She had no idea how right she was.

“And you think that’s a good thing?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft.

She shook her head, looking down at her hands. “Not good... just necessary. Some people are meant to feel pain, and others are meant to deliver it.”

I clenched my jaw,  as I fought the urge to pull her closer, to make her understand just how dangerous those thoughts were. She thought she wasn’t afraid, but she hadn’t seen the real me yet. Not fully.

I leaned back slightly, letting out a slow breath. “And what about me?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. “Are you afraid of me?”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of hesitation. But then she shook her head again, her lips curving into a small, almost sad smile.

“No,” she said softly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The words sent a rush of satisfaction through me, but also something else. Something unsettling. She didn’t know what she was saying. She didn’t know what I was capable of.

I leaned in again, my voice cold and quiet. “You should be.”

Her breath hitched, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. But even then, she didn’t pull away. She stayed there, sitting beside me, her gaze steady, her hands trembling just slightly as she met my gaze head-on.

I smirked, leaning back once more, letting the tension hang in the air between us. “Cub,” I whispered, watching her as her eyes widened slightly at the nickname. “You have no idea what kind of danger you’re inviting into your life.”

As I sat there watching her, my gaze never leaving her soft figure, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered by a sudden commotion. There were shouts, and I saw Isabel wince slightly, her head snapping in the direction of the noise. My eyes followed, landing on a woman in her fifties, glaring daggers at Isabel. The older woman stormed over, her face twisted in frustration, and Isabel blinked up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

The woman leaned down, her voice a harsh whisper, loud enough for me to hear. “You can’t just go around talking about the murder like that! What if his men hear you?”

Isabel merely shrugged, an easy grin spreading across her face.

“If talking about it gets me the chance to meet the Mafia boss, then maybe I should go around screaming about the murder.” Her tone was teasing, playful, like she had no idea what she was flirting with. My chest tightened, a mix of amusement and frustration swirling inside me.

The older woman’s eyes went wide with shock, just like mine. For a split second, I thought she might slap some sense into My cub, but instead, she yanked her ear hard enough to make her yelp.

“You can’t say things like that!” she scolded. “If you ever meet that ruthless man, it’ll be the last day of your life.”

Isabel just laughed, that same carefree smile lighting up her face as she rubbed her ear. “Oh, come on! If I die, at least I’ll go out in style. Maybe even with a little thrill, huh?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned toward me, as if daring me to react.

The older woman shook her head, exasperated. “You really think the man they call V, the most ruthless Mafia boss, is someone you can joke about? He’s a monster, Isabel. You should be scared, not fantasizing about him, have you heard the way he kills people who mess with him. And-"

"Aw, don’t be like that. If he's as dangerous as they say, maybe he’s the kind of guy who just needs a little love,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, like she was talking about some fairy-tale prince instead of the monster everyone feared.

I clenched my fists under the table, trying to suppress the sudden surge of possessiveness that hit me. She had no idea the kind of fire she was playing with, yet here she was, casually talking about meeting a man who could end her life without a second thought.

The older woman’s face hardened, her expression growing serious as she shook her head. “Not everything you read in those silly books is true, Isabel. V isn’t some romantic antihero. He’s a ruthless monster,  Who kills people.”

Isabel gasped, clutching her chest dramatically, her lips curving into an exaggerated pout. “Don’t talk about my future husband like that!” she cried, as if she’d been personally offended. The woman simply shook her head, muttering something under her breath, but the words sent a jolt through me.

Future husband?

For a moment, my world seemed to tilt. My heart skipped a beat something it hadn’t done in years. The thought of her talking about me, the real me, in such a casual, almost ridiculous way… it unsettled me. Hell, it made me want to laugh, if only because of the absurdity of it all. But there was something else too—a pull, a strange sensation that I hadn’t expected.

I watched her, the way her lips pouted playfully, her eyes dancing with that same defiant spirit she always showed. She was reckless. Foolish. But goddamn if she wasn’t something else entirely.

The woman tugged Isabel’s ear again, shaking her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying. V isn’t a man you fantasize about. He’s not your hero, Isabel. He’He’s a monster, a killer.”

Isabel pouted harder, crossing her arms over her chest like a stubborn child. “Well, maybe My man needs me to show him a little kindness, and slap him, With some sense. ” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

I felt my grip tighten on the table, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to reach out and drag her into reality. Kindness. And what slap some sense, If she knew who I really was—what I was capable of—would she still be sitting here with that dreamy look in her eyes? Would she still talk about me like I was some fantasy?

The woman sighed, giving up on trying to talk sense into her, and stalked off, leaving us alone. Isabel glanced at me, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “What?” she asked, her voice light and teasing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I shook my head, unable to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You’re unbelievable, cub,” I said, my voice low and gravelly.

She just giggled, leaning closer to me, her eyes bright and full of that same playful mischief. “I know. But you love it.”

“You really shouldn’t joke about things you don’t understand, cub,” I murmured, my voice low, but enough to get her attention.

She turned to me, her grin widening. “Why not? Life’s more fun that way.”

I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Because sometimes, the things you joke about... are a lot closer than you think.”

Her smile faltered for a brief second, but then she just chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing. “I’ll take my chances.”

I stared at her, the temptation to reveal myself gnawing at the back of my mind. She was toying with a dangerous game, and yet, part of me couldn’t help but admire her fearlessness—or was it recklessness? Either way, it was fascinating.

And it was only a matter of time before she realized just who she was dealing with.

I was too lost in my thoughts to notice Isabel had come closer, her voice snapping me back to reality. “Big boi, you should really go now, we’re closing,” she teased, her voice light and playful.

I smirked, standing up slowly. “What happened to ‘Daddy’?” I replied, watching as her eyes sparkled with mischief.

She chuckled softly, her gaze locking onto mine. But then, without warning, she took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back. I didn’t even realize I had done it until my back hit the wall. My chest tightened as I realized she had cornered me—. What the hell? I wasn’t supposed to retreat from anyone, let alone a woman as small as her. This tiny girl, My little cub had me backed into a corner.

Her hands came up, placing themselves on either side of my hips, palms flat against the wall. She barely reached my chest, her small figure making her actions all the more amusing. I felt a strange warmth creeping up my spine as she rose onto her tiptoes, trying to get closer to my ear.

Amused, I couldn’t help but chuckle at her. She was trying so hard. Her attempt at cornering me was cute, ridiculous even. But damn, it was effective, I leaned down slightly, just enough to give her a little help, my smirk growing. But then I felt it—her warm breath against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Just like your words make my lady parts tingle,” she whispered, her voice soft- , teasing. “I wouldn’t want your man parts standing at attention.”

Her words were a punch to my gut. My breath caught in my throat, my smirk faltering for just a split second. Before I could even react, she was gone—sprinting away, her laughter echoing in the empty café, leaving me standing there, completely blindsided by her boldness.

I blinked, stunned for a moment before a growl of frustration rumbled in my chest. That damn girl. I couldn’t believe the audacity she had—cornering me, whispering things like that, and then running off like it was nothing. The tension in my body hadn’t even faded, and she was already halfway across the room, looking back at me with a victorious grin plastered on her face.

She had no idea what she was playing with.

I clenched my fists, my eyes narrowing as I watched her, trying to calm the heat spreading through my veins. I wanted to go after her, pin her against the wall, make her realize just how dangerous it was to tease me like that.

But instead, I took a deep breath, smirking to myself as I pushed off the wall. She’s bold, I thought. Too bold for her own good.

I’d let her win this round, but next time? Next time, she wouldn’t get away so easily.

And worst of all, she left me standing there, breathless and—God help me—wanting more.

My hands flexed at my sides, still tingling from where her warmth lingered. Damn her. No one ever made me feel this out of control. Not in years.

But her? This small, bold, fearless woman who didn’t know when to quit? She had me on the edge, and I wasn’t sure whether to be angry... or give her exactly what she wanted.

One thing was certain—this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.