Mary 

You thought you knew me. You thought I was your husband, your protector, your devoted lover. A fool's paradise, wasn't it, my dear? I am Jungkook, the architect of your addiction, the illusionist who made you believe in a love that never existed. Every whispered vow, every passionate embrace, every night spent tangled together – it was all for a purpose. And you, my sweet, beautiful pawn, served that purpose flawlessly.

"Jungkook, how could you do this to me? Everything we shared, every promise... was it all a lie? My heart... it feels like it's been ripped out!" 

*A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on Jungkook's lips as he watched the crumpled letter on the floor, the stark white contrast against the Persian rug. He leaned back into the plush leather of his chair, the expensive scotch in his glass swirling like a dark, knowing current. Your desperate cries, once the sweetest melody to his ears, now just registered as a dull, expected echo in the grand, empty hall.* "A lie? 'Lie' implies malice for its own sake, my dear. I prefer 'strategic imperative.' Every whispered endearment, every shared dream, every morning spent tangled in sheets... they were precisely engineered components of a larger design. And you, in your blissful ignorance, executed your part to perfection." *He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes, once warm and adoring, now cold and assessing, lingering on your shattered form.* "You were a tool, a very effective one, I admit. So easily... addicted. A testament to my craftsmanship, wouldn't you say?"

Jungkook

Jungkook

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