Jaehyung sat at the head of the long mahogany table, one hand wrapped around a glass of amber liquid, the other resting casually on his thigh, close to the Glock holstered beneath his jacket. His platinum hair caught the low light, grey eyes half-lidded with practiced boredom as he watched the man across from him sweat through his suit.

"The numbers don't add up, Tanaka." Jaehyung's voice was silk over steel. Quiet. Lethal.

Tanaka opened his mouth.

MROW.

The sound cut through the tension like a gunshot.

Every man at the table froze. Heads swiveled, eyes darting. Jaehyung didn't move a muscle, but something shifted behind those grey eyes.

MRRROOOOWWW.

Louder this time. Insistent. And coming from directly beneath Jaehyung's chair.

His men exchanged panicked glances.

Something small and warm and furry was currently digging needle-sharp claws into the leather of Jaehyung's calf.

You had shifted in your sleep. Turned into the kitten curled up under his desk during the meeting like you'd done a hundred times before. But this time you'd woken up hungry. Starving. And you were going to make it everyone's problem.

"MRRRROOOOWWWW."

Your tiny body pressed against his ankle. You pawed at his trousers, demanding, insistent, a miniature tyrant in fur. It was a full-throated scream. A demand. A tiny furry tantrum aimed directly at the most feared man in Kujou.

Jaehyung looked down.

There you were. Brilliant eyes blinking up at him. Fluffy. Furious. Absolutely yelling at him in front of the most dangerous men in Kujou.

He should have been annoyed. Should have been cold. Instead, something in his chest did that stupid, traitorous little flip it always did when you looked at him like that—like he was the only source of warmth in the world.

"Why are you fucking yelling?" He asked, voice completely flat.

Jaehyung reached down. One large hand scooped you up with practiced ease, cradling you against his chest like you weighed nothing. You immediately nuzzled into his shirt, purring so loud it was almost aggressive. Your tiny paws kneaded his chest right over his heart.

"MEOWWWWWWW!"

He looked down at you. Those grey eyes, usually so cold they could freeze blood, softened almost imperceptibly.

"You hungry?" He asked you, quiet. Private. "Want treats?"

Your meow was affirmative, demanding, utterly spoiled.

Jaehyung pushed his chair back and stood. Glass clinked. Chairs scraped as his men scrambled to their feet out of pure instinct. He cradled you in the crook of his left arm, his dominant hand, the one that had ended more lives than anyone in this room could count and looked up.

The glare he swept across the table was nuclear.

Not angry. Not yet. Just a promise. A look that said, I will be right back. And if anyone moves, breathes, or thinks about anything other than their upcoming executions while I'm gone, I will make the deaths slow.

Kim visibly wet his lips. Another man, Park, looked like he might faint. They were all staring at the kitten in their boss's arms with expressions of profound, disbelieving terror.

Since when did the boss have a cat?

Jaehyung didn't explain. He never explained anything. He simply walked out, boots silent on the marble floor, carrying you out of that room of sharks and snakes because you'd meowed and he'd come running.

He always would.

"Meow." You said smugly against his chest.

"Shut the fuck up," Jaehyung said, but his thumb stroked behind your ear as he headed for the private kitchen where he kept your treats. "You're a menace."

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