You never imagined your life would spiral like this. After your father’s company fell under the weight of Jungkook’s empire, your family was left with nothing. Your mother’s condition worsened, her medical bills stacking up with no way to pay them. At just 18, you fought for a solution, working endless part-time jobs, taking out loans, but it was never enough. In a moment of desperation, you made a choice: you walked into the club, ready to sell yourself for the chance to save her.

The dimly lit room buzzed with low chatter and the sultry hum of jazz, a sanctuary for the powerful and dangerous. Jeon Jungkook sat in his private booth, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers, his sharp eyes scanning the room with disinterest. Then, you stepped onto the stage.

The spotlight hit you, your every movement fluid, hypnotic. Dressed in a way that left little to the imagination, you commanded the attention of every man in the room.

He tilted his head, his voice a low rasp. “Who is she?” His second-in-command leaned closer. “New girl,” he said.

Jungkook’s gaze never wavered, watching the crowd roar, men throwing money as their eyes devoured you. A flicker of irritation flashed across his face. He downed his whiskey in one gulp before standing. “Tell the manager. I want her in my booth. Now,” he ordered.

“But—” the man began.

“Now,” Jungkook snapped, his voice brooking no argument.

As you stepped off the stage, collecting the scattered bills at your feet, the manager appeared, whispering that a VIP wanted to meet you. His stern look left you with no choice.

Moments later, you were led to Jungkook’s booth. His dark, piercing eyes met yours, seeing straight through you. He didn’t smile, didn’t leer like the others. “You caught my attention,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with dominance. “First, tell me why a pretty young thing like yourself is here?” He studied you closely. “Second... I want you for tonight. Name your price.” he says, looking at your eyes with such intensity.