B Red lights blare through the building as a piercing alarm goes off.

“ERR. ERR.”

“Don’t let her escape.”
An old man with graying hair and a black tailored suit demands, glaring at the group of armed men behind him. “If Mr. Jeon finds out she’s gone and taken by the Direction before even arriving, it won’t be just me leaving here without a job.” His eyebrows furrow in anger at the thought.

My pulse spikes, and I duck into the nearest room, shutting the door a little too loudly in my rush. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping no one heard. The lights in the room are off—it’s pitch black. I can’t see a thing. I finally exhale, what feels like a breath I’ve been holding for years.

My moment of relief is cut short as I suddenly feel a hand wrap around my wrist with an iron grip.

I turn my head, trying to see who it is, but with the lights off all I can make out is a silhouette.

“Let go of me,” I whisper—or what’s supposed to be one. I try to yank my hand away.
“I said let go!” I whisper-yell, my patience thinning. The dark figure pulls me closer, taking me by surprise as I’m pressed snug against him. He leans down to whisper, “If you don’t be quiet, you’ll get us both caught.”

His soft British voice calms me a little. He slowly loosens his grip on my wrist.

“H-how do you know me…?”

He peers through the small opening in the door, checking if it’s clear, then turns back to me. “Listen, my name is Harry, and I’m here to rescue you and get you out of here.”

I’ve only been held up in this mansion for about a month now, and as far as I knew, it was extremely secret. I’d gone missing, and with all the resources my captor seems to have—this crazy mansion and all—I’m sure he could hide any secret from the world, let alone some random girl being kidnapped.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as my British savior speaks up.
“Do you really not know?” he asks, sounding surprised. “Listen, darling, I’m not sure how much you know, but your captors aren’t just anyone. They’re the most wealthy and dangerous mafia to exist.”

My eyes widen. Is this some kind of sick joke?

“What would a powerful mafia want to do with me?! I’m as normal as they come—I’m not anything special!”

Before I can get a response, the sound of footsteps grows closer.

“Any sign of the girl!?”

I peek through the small opening of the door. It’s the same old man in the suit as before.

“No, sir!”
“Then get to work!”

The three men run off in another direction. Just as the grumpy gray-haired man is about to walk away, he stops as he gets a call. Just my lucky day…

“Hello… yes. Yes, sir, that is true.” I can’t hear what his boss is saying on the other line, but it can’t be good with how anxious Mr. Grumpy Greys looks.

“No, sir, we… don’t quite know where she is yet, but we suspect that One Direction has something to do with it.”

One Direction? Who are they?

The man paces as he talks on the phone, coming closer. I hear muffled sounds.

“Hah, I should have known Styles would try to pull something like this. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

The line goes dead as the man walks off.

“One Direction?” I whisper to myself.

“They’re the second most famous mafia organization,” the voice behind me whispers. He moves in front of me, checking if the coast is clear one more time.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he says quickly, ushering me out.

I wince as he opens the door, my eyes still adjusting from the pitch-black room. As my vision clears, I finally see him—brown hair, light eyes. He’s handsome, and I’d probably even date him if we’d met under different circumstances.

He grabs my wrist again, this time more gently, leading me down a long hallway in the mansion.

“Listen, we don’t have much time. My team has a car parked in the back to get you out of here, but whatever you do, I need you to stick by me,” he says, glancing back at me.

Honestly, he’s the best bet I have. I give a silent nod as we keep moving.

“Where are we going!?” I ask as he looks left and right, making sure no one sees us.

“The main office. The leader’s office. There’s a secret escape exit behind a bookshelf.”

Harry opens the door to the office. Surprisingly, it isn’t filled with dark spirits or statues like I imagined. It looks… normal. Almost normal. Harry rushes to the bookshelf, throwing one book to the ground, then another. I can tell something’s wrong.

“What are you doing? What happened!?”

“It’s not here!”

“What’s not!?”

“The key to the secret exit.”

The door opens behind us. Both of our heads snap up. A man walks in—dark black hair, pale porcelain skin, an eyebrow piercing, tattoos covering his hands and arms, and a white dress shirt stained with what looks like fresh blood. He smirks at Harry, holding up a small gold key.

“Jungkook,” Harry mutters under his breath, frustration clear.

“Really, Styles? For someone running the second-best organization, I expected more from you.” He tilts his head, smirking as he toys with the key. “All the trouble you’ve caused me over the years with whatever one-sided competition you have is one thing… "But stealing my property is another story . ”

With that, he pulls out a gun and points it at Harry.

“Any last words?”