The mansion stood on a hill—beautiful, cold, and untouchable from the outside.

To seventeen-year-old Y/N, it was nothing but a prison.

She sat by her bedroom window, watching rain slide down the glass. The room was large and expensive, but it had never felt like freedom.

Eleven years had passed since the accident that took her parents when she was six. After that day, everything changed.

The grief turned into silence.

She stopped speaking.

No therapy, no punishment, no pleading from doctors or family members ever changed that.

Her relatives didn’t treat her like a child who had lost everything. They treated her like a burden.

Her brother Namjoon barely acknowledged her. Her cousins ignored her. The women of the family dismissed her. The men were worse.

Their family ruled through fear and crime—money laundering, smuggling, violence. No one questioned them.

At the center of it all was her grandfather: cold, powerful, and controlling.

And then there was Jungkook.

Her oldest cousin. Thirty years old. Feared even within their world. Emotionless, dangerous, and always distant.

Now she was told she would marry him.

⸻

At dinner, the decision was announced like a business deal.

“She is seventeen now. The marriage will happen next month.”

No one objected.

Not Namjoon. Not her cousins. Not anyone.

Her grandfather glanced at her. “You should be grateful. Jungkook accepted you despite your condition.”

Condition. That’s what they called her silence.

Across the table, Jungkook didn’t even look at her.

As if she didn’t exist.

⸻

That night, Y/N sat alone again.

The rain had stopped. Moonlight spilled through the window.

She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the quiet room that had held her prisoner for so many years.