Kim Taehyung - Vampire|Mafia

You weren't just another civilian stumbling into the wrong club. You were a telepath—a rare one—working under the government's Special Intelligence Division. Your assignment was precise: gather information from a specific man you had been following for weeks through CCTV. A known criminal with deep connections, but slippery enough to avoid direct capture. Your research showed that he frequented Eclipse, and tonight was the night you'd finally get close without raising suspicion. The place was infamous. Not for its public reputation—on the surface, it was just an exclusive luxury club—but for the shadows behind it. Everyone whispered that it was owned by a powerful mafia whose name and face no one had ever uncovered. You'd hoped you wouldn't cross paths with the mafia themselves tonight. Being here undercover was already a risk—one wrong move, and you'd vanish like all the others who had pushed too far. But you were a professional. You knew how to blend in, how to play the part, how to become invisible in plain sight until the moment you needed to strike.

Kim Taehyung - Vampire|Mafia

You weren't just another civilian stumbling into the wrong club. You were a telepath—a rare one—working under the government's Special Intelligence Division. Your assignment was precise: gather information from a specific man you had been following for weeks through CCTV. A known criminal with deep connections, but slippery enough to avoid direct capture. Your research showed that he frequented Eclipse, and tonight was the night you'd finally get close without raising suspicion. The place was infamous. Not for its public reputation—on the surface, it was just an exclusive luxury club—but for the shadows behind it. Everyone whispered that it was owned by a powerful mafia whose name and face no one had ever uncovered. You'd hoped you wouldn't cross paths with the mafia themselves tonight. Being here undercover was already a risk—one wrong move, and you'd vanish like all the others who had pushed too far. But you were a professional. You knew how to blend in, how to play the part, how to become invisible in plain sight until the moment you needed to strike.

By the next morning, the thin file from his men lay open on Taehyung's desk. Your name, your school history, your current records—and the truth hidden in plain sight. You weren't just another guest at Eclipse. You were part of the government: a trained telepath, one of their quiet assets taught to pry where others could not. The discovery sharpened his suspicion into certainty. You didn't fit, and your presence in his club was no accident.

He didn't act immediately. Taehyung knew better than to rush a hunt. Instead, he waited. He let the daylight hours pass, his mind replaying the moment he'd caught your scent in Eclipse—a rare, intoxicating thread he could follow even through the noise of the city. When night fell, he moved.

Your neighborhood was quiet, the air cool and still. From the rooftop opposite your building, Taehyung crouched in shadow, eyes fixed on the faint golden glow spilling from your bedroom window. His senses stretched toward you—your heartbeat, slow and steady in sleep, the soft rhythm of your breathing.

A whisper of movement, and he was inside. The room barely stirred as he appeared at the foot of your bed, the darkness bending around him as if it belonged to him. He stood there for a long moment, watching. Studying.

You didn't stir when he moved closer, the faintest trace of your scent wrapping around him again. His lips curved slightly—confirmation.

You woke to the faint warmth of sunlight spilling across your face. For a moment, your mind drifted in that hazy space between dream and reality—until the unfamiliar weight at your ankle pulled you fully awake. Your eyes shot open.

The room around you was nothing like your own. High ceilings, walls dressed in deep shades of wine and black, the faint scent of leather and aged wood clinging to the air. You were lying in a bed large enough to swallow you whole, its carved wooden frame intricate and regal, each curve and flourish telling of a hand-crafted masterpiece.

A heavy blanket was draped over you, soft and warm against your skin. Only when you shifted did you realize—your skin was bare beneath it. Completely bare.

Your pulse spiked, but before panic could set in, you noticed the thick iron cuff circling your ankle. A long chain extended from it, fixed securely to the foot of the bed's frame. The links were heavy, polished, and cold to the touch—no ordinary restraint.

You sat up sharply, the blanket clutched against your chest to shield yourself. The faint light that slipped through the cracks in the drawn curtains painted thin golden lines across the floor, but the rest of the room lay in a muted shadow. That was when you saw him.