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Section 1
### Chapter 1: Prologue
"Are you sure thats her?" Jungkook asked looking over at Taehyung who was knelt beside him. His eyes were focused solely on the girl sat across from them. A cool breeze blew through her hair, lifting loose strands that refused to settle neatly on the top of her head. The t-shirt she wore was a size too big and had grown faded over time, hanging over a pair of shorts that peeked out below the fraying hem. There was a heaviness in her lingering eyes, like they held the quiet of stories she didn't dare talk about. Yet, her deep-coloured irises still sparkled just as bright as the sunlight that shone into them. She smiled briefly at an elderly woman passing along the path that cut through the park. Her smile was warm and comforting, exhibiting a hint of shyness. It couldn't be her. You don't go through something like she had and come out the other end without a scratch. He had been searching for her for what seemed like forever. The days had become months and the months soon became years. She had done an excellent job of going unnoticed, blending in with all the other blank souls that went by their mundane lives. Never in a million years did he think he'd find her here in the busy city. He knew she hated the city - he'd done his research. Jungkook glanced over again at Taehyung, his eyes narrowed and he could tell he was thinking the same thing. It wasn't until she got up from the bench to put on her coat did he notice it. As she lifted her arm up to slip it into the sleeve of her coat, her t-shirt raised slightly revealing a mark on her hip. It was easily mistaken as a birthmark. So easy in fact you wouldn't even question the small, brown smudge twice. Oh, how things would be different if she knew it's real meaning. Taehyung let a smirk appear on his face, watching as she walked away from the two of them. "Positive."
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### Chapter 2: ~ 1
"If you don't get your filthy hands off of me I will cut them both off when I get the chance," I screamed as I thrashed my body around, trying to escape the tight grip around my arms and legs. "I thought you said she wouldn't put up much of a fight," one of the two men said through gritted teeth as he grabbed my arm tighter. My body was pushed down into a chair, my arms and legs tied to the back of it by plastic zip ties. With a blindfold over my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The last thing I can recall is walking back home from the shops before I was ambushed by two men in all black, both their faces covered with a mask. I'd been forced into the back of a van before I was dragged across concrete which had left bruises and scratches up my arms. The blindfold was removed from my eyes and I finally got the chance to check out my surroundings. The room was small and musty but well furnished. A chandelier dangled elegantly from the ceiling and a dining table centred itself in the middle of the room surrounded by 7 chairs. "You'll wait here whilst we get the boss," one of the men spat at me, their face still obscured by the mask. "It doesn't look like I have much choice," I rolled my eyes, looking to the ties around my wrists and ankles. They left the room without another sound whilst I calculated my escape plan. My eyes glance to the window on my right, shit, we were on the third floor. Unless I wanted to break a couple of bones on the way down, the window wasn't an option. I shifted my eyes to the door that was clearly locked and looked as sturdy as a brick wall. With no luck I changed tactics as I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. My thoughts are interrupted as the door opens to reveal a tall man with jet black hair that fell over the brightest brown eyes I'd ever seen. He wore a white dress shirt tucked into black jeans held up by a silver belt. What caught my attention was the small mole situated on the end of his nose that seemed to soften his entire appearance. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this moment." His voice is deep and raspy, perfectly matching his image. He spoke quickly and confidently as if he had pre-rehearsed the whole conversation. "Nice to meet you too, I'm Hanna" I shoot him a smile, annoyed I couldn't outstretch my hand for a handshake to add extra sarcasm. "I know who you are," he spoke bluntly, clearly a little pissed off with my response. I frowned, raising an eyebrow up at the fact he already knew my name. "Are you going to introduce yourself then or just stare at me?" I scoffed at him. He got closer to me, bending down slightly with his hands in his trouser pockets so his eyes were in line with mine. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" He questioned with a tilted head and what seemed to be an admirable smirk. He exuded a shameful amount of self-confidence. I laughed at his question almost falling off my chair due to the lack of balance I had with my hands tied behind me. His smirk fell from his face to form a confused expression. "Are you being serious?" I choked out through laughs, "honestly I've had scarier dreams about failing math." I manage to stop myself laughing, taking deep breathes to regain a steady breathing rate. The smile on my lips falters as I watch the man lift his hand in the air. It hurtles itself towards me at what seems like a hundred miles per hour. My eyes immediately squeeze shut as I wait for the loud sound to ring through my ears, followed by the sharp stinging of my cheek. Yet, a second later, the room still stands silent. Slowly, I peek out from under my eyelids, where I'm met with a teasing smirk. "I thought you weren't afraid of me? Not so big and mighty now, are you?" He laughs bitterly with narrowed eyes. "Just some ground rules Hanna. I am in charge around here, you speak to me and treat me with respect." As if possible, his voice had deepened even further to a low growl. I stopped myself from responding with a witty remark. I knew when to pick my battles and this one wasn't worth fighting. He was a narcissist to put it plain and simple. With an easily damaged ego, he's built walls around himself, using aggression to conceal his vulnerability. His face was within just centimetres of mine. I noticed a scar that extended from the corner of his left eye up into his eyebrow. It was an odd looking scar, the skin surrounding it partially discoloured, suggesting it hadn't healed properly. "Respect is earnt, you know," I respond, watching as he knelt down to a squat in front of me as he began to roughly untie my arms and legs. "Exactly. So if I were you, I'd learn to close that pretty mouth of yours. Follow," he commands, beckoning with his index finger as he strode away from me towards the door he had entered from. I open my mouth to protest but the threatening glare he sends me instantly shuts it. "Where are we going?" I question, following him into a corridor that was laid with red carpet. Paintings hung from the wall of various famous artists. They lack any substance and the tones are muted from years of built up dust. "You're going to meet the others," he responded grabbing my arm to push me in front of him as I slowed down to take a closer look at one of the paintings. I wince in pain at the tight grip and try wriggling my hand free. During my attempt he suddenly lets go of my hand and I fall backwards, my head thrown into the corner of one of the picture frames. "You know, I just realised I never fully introduced myself, how rude of me," he laughs leaning into my face with a smile plastered on his. He rubs the top of my head where it was throbbing in pain. "I'm Kim Taehyung," he breathes softly into my ear. The tip of his nose grazes against mine as he moved his hand from my head to take hold of my arm again and drag me along the rest of the corridor. The room we enter smells of smoke that burns my throat slightly and causes my eyes to water. A poker table dotted with cards takes up the centre of the room. Around it stood six men so engrossed in their game that they hadn't even noticed our entrance. "What the fuck are you doing Jungkook? I said no smoking in the poker room," Taehyung speaks loudly, causing the six men to instantly whip their heads around to face us. "Shit, sorry Tae." The young boy drops his cigarette on the floor, stamping on it repeatedly until it goes out before tossing it in a bin. I had never felt more uncomfortable than this very moment as the stares of six equally good-looking men trailed over me. "These men right here are who keep this mafia gang on its feet. We go by the name of BTS," Taehyung speaks proudly, unaffected by the amount of attention we were receiving. My eyes widen a little at the mention of the mafia, it might sound a little naive but I hadn't realised they were still around. I'd heard talk about them but only bits and pieces, the main thing I'd gathered is that under no circumstances were you to get involved with them. I guess it was too late for that though. "That's a pretty shit name, don't you think?" The words had tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. At this rate, I was just asking for a death wish, although by the way Taehyung had introduced himself to me, I was pretty sure I was already on any death note he'd written, and I presumed he had a few. "I said the same thing," one of the shorter men muttered under his breath. He'd stood out to me immediately due to his bright blonde hair. His gums show as he laughs lightly, his comment prompting the others to laugh along with him. "Did I ask for your opinion Yoongi?" Taehyung lifts an eyebrow, clearly livid with the other six men who continued to laugh a little louder now. "Once you're done giggling like little school girls," Taehyung's voice booms through the room over the top of their laughter, causing the six men to stop immediately, "how about you introduce yourselves to Hanna, we wouldn't want to give off the wrong impression." Taehyung strides over to a cushioned chair less than a couple of metres away. Once sat on it he stretches his legs open wide and leaned forward with his hands clasped together. I discretely roll my eyes at what I assumed was supposed to be him showcasing his authority. "I'm Namjoon. Fun fact, I can hack into anything. Literally anything," he flashes a smile which is far too cute to belong to a person with his status. It was hard to see past the dimples as anything but innocent. There's a brief pause as he looks around the room at the other guys, who don't seem so used to introducing themselves in this kind of fashion. In the corner of my eye I see Taehyung lean back in his chair, visibly annoyed by the scene playing out in front of him. "I'm Seokjin, but just call me Jin. I specialise in fire arms." Jin was extremely handsome and he clearly knew it. His eyes scale my body up and down, a small smirk tugging at his full lips. I shuffle uncomfortably under his gaze, not liking the attention I was receiving from him. "Min Yoongi," the blonde speaks with a shrug, not enjoying the idea of introducing himself either. "Is that all you're going to say?" A red-haired boy stood next to Yoongi nudged his arm, prompting him to carry on. Yoongi sends him a death glare that I'm glad I'm on not on the receiving end of. "I don't need to say anything else." The red head lets out a heavy sigh, clearly used to the temperament of the blonde boy, "I'm Hobi," he adds with a small smile. "I'm Jimin, but call me whatever you like," he walks over to me and takes my hand in his giving me a handshake which I'm too shocked to respond to. Jimin literally oozed sex appeal, from his thighs which were struggling to remain contained in his jeans to his long hair which had been tied back in a half ponytail. "You're really not the bad boy you think you are," Yoongi deadpans at Jimin who turns around and goes to elbow Yoongi in the stomach but seems to think twice as he instead lets his arm fall back down to his side. "Why don't you introduce yourself Kook?" Taehyung speaks from his chair, obviously done with the childish behaviour the others exemplified. The black haired boy turns to Taehyung with a slack expression. He looked the youngest despite his large build but despite his muscle he seemed out of place. The others had a tougher image to fit their roles but he looked almost a picture of innocence. "I'm Jungkook. We were both raised in an orphanage." My face creases into an even deeper frown and the anger within me begins to rise at a fast rate regardless of how much I try to suppress it. As a child, I had been moved around foster parents like I was merely just an object. My parents had decided to fuck off the very moment I was born. I'd experienced it all, I'd been hit, drugged, verbally and physically assaulted, not to mention the emotional scars it had left on me. That kind of thing really hardens a kid. I'd never had a proper family, neither had I made real friends. I'd been moved all over the country in hopes that someone, somewhere would love me as their own. Of course, it never happened, so I'd learned to survive on my own. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact, I considered it a strength. The seven of them looked at me expectedly, seemingly wanting me to introduce myself. I mean what was the point? they all clearly knew who I was already. "I'm Hanna and I don't know why the fuck I'm here."
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