Jimin didn't say a word.
Not even a hello.
But really — who cared?
It's not like anyone ever noticed when he did... or when he didn't.
He had only taken a short glance at the six men coming down the stairs — tall, cold, powerful — and then looked away just as quickly, his head dropping slightly like always, his shoulders shrinking as though apologizing for simply existing.
He passed them like a shadow.
And like a shadow, he expected to fade away.
But what he didn't know... was that he had been seen.
Six pairs of eyes — sharp, calculating, trained to pick up the tiniest details — had noticed .
Not just his silence.
Not just his absence of greeting.
But him .
The way he walked.
The way he seemed to carry the weight of something invisible but heavy.
The way he didn't even try to be acknowledged.
They all sat down in the dining hall now. The atmosphere was comfortable — but beneath it, a strange silence lingered, like something had shifted.
"Let me introduce you all to each other," Yuna said, smiling politely as she stood up.
"Most of you haven't seen each other in a long time, and some... well, have never met before."
She turned to the group of Jeon brothers, who now sat in perfect composure, their postures regal but relaxed.
"You already know your cousins," she began.
"But for Sadao's children, let's go over again just in case."
She moved toward the Jeon sons.
"This is Seokjin — the eldest. Then Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Taehyung, and the youngest, Jungkook."
Each of them nodded slightly as they were introduced, expressions neutral yet observant.
Then Yuna turned slightly and gestured to the group seated opposite them — Sadao's side.
"This is Dae-hyun, the eldest here, then Irene. She's younger than Dae-hyun, so she's like a little sister to all of you," she added with a soft chuckle.
And then her hand moved gently toward the end of the couch.
"And this here is Jimin — Sadao's son from his first wife."
Her voice lowered a little as though she was saying something delicate.
"He's the youngest of them all. Even younger than Irene... and younger than you , Jungkook."
There was a beat of silence.
A pause.
Like her words hung in the air, unwilling to disappear.
"He's so small and cute, right?" Yuna added with a light-hearted smile.
Jimin, seated in the corner of the couch like a ghost, froze slightly. His eyes didn't rise, but he could feel it — Their gaze.
Again.
He didn't dare look up.
But the Jeon brothers were staring.
Again.
And not with disgust.
Not with judgment.
It was something else.
Curiosity.
Confusion.
And something colder — realization.
Realization that there was more to that quiet boy than met the eye.
He wasn't introduced like the others.
He wasn't seated like the others.
He didn't act like them.
He didn't belong.
And they noticed.
Especially Jungkook.
His jaw clenched ever so slightly.
Something about the way that boy sat so still, so silent, as if trying to disappear... didn't sit right with him.
Cute? Maybe.
Small? Definitely.
But more than that — he looked unprotected.
And the Jeons...
They protected their own .
" Excuse me, Mrs. Jeon... the dinner has been served. "
A maid's voice cut through the mild conversation, respectful and calm.
Yuna nodded in acknowledgment, her soft smile never fading.
The maid bowed quietly and left.
One by one, they all made their way to the lavish dining hall — a space designed for royalty, lined with an endless table dressed in gold-trimmed plates and crystal glasses. The aroma of traditional Korean dishes mixed with the faint scent of rosewood that clung to the mansion's air.
Everyone settled into their seats.
They didn't sit by age, or in any particular order — just wherever they felt like.
Jimin quietly slipped into the seat between Jin and Dae-hyun. His movements were small, almost hidden. His eyes barely rose from his plate. He didn't speak. He didn't even sigh.
Just like always.
Jin noticed, briefly. But he didn't say anything.
Not yet.
"So," Howon started, glancing around the table, his tone cheerful, "did you guys like the food?"
"Yes! It's so tasty. I really like it, Uncle," Irene chirped, flashing her best smile.
Howon frowned playfully, shaking his head.
"Hmm, that sounds so formal. Don't call me 'uncle.'"
He leaned slightly forward, eyes twinkling with warmth.
"Call me Papa . Your Oppas call me Papa too. I'm your father as well, hmm?"
Yuna smiled and added quickly, "And call me Mama — since your Oppas call me that too."
Irene giggled lightly at their insistence, clearly enjoying the attention.
"Yeah, sure. Why not, Papa and Mama," Dae-hyun answered smoothly, playing along.
"That's like a good boy," Yuna and Howon said together, beaming.
The room was filled with polite chuckles and warm exchanges, everyone eating comfortably.
Everyone — except one .
Jimin sat there, quietly chewing the food on his plate.
He hadn't spoken a word.
No one expected him to.
No one asked him anything.
Not even when everyone else was already being accepted as "sons" and "family."
He felt it like a sting — no one had said he should call them Mama or Papa.
Maybe... they didn't want him to.
He lowered his head further and focused on his plate.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
But he kept eating.
Because not eating would make someone mad.
"Mama, Papa... I'm also a good girl,"
Irene chirped sweetly, lips forming a pout that she probably thought looked adorable .
But to the Jeon brothers sitting across the table — cold, calculating eyes taking in everything — the reaction was instant and identical.
" Eww... disgusting. "
Their thoughts echoed in sync like a silent war drum in their heads.
"Does she really have to make that fake and disgusting pout every damn time?" Jungkook internally gagged.
"And what's with 'Papa' and 'Mama' like this is a drama shoot? Come on." Yoongi's thoughts were sharp and cynical, as always.
"Can't they see she's clearly forcing it? Like—whatever." Taehyung's face twitched slightly, fighting the urge to visibly roll his eyes.
They all exchanged glances—knowing, irritated, and thoroughly unimpressed.
"Yes, princess. You are also a good girl,"
Sadao said, tone syrupy with favor, his eyes glowing with pride as if Irene had just solved world peace.
"Your father is absolutely right, Irene,"
Howon added, chuckling warmly, clearly indulging her,
"You surely are. Now stop making that cute pout of yours—we'll melt otherwise."
Cue the mental breakdown from BTS again.
" Cute? Seriously? Are you for real, Papa? "
Seokjin's mind screamed.
"That pout is a literal insult to the word cute." Namjoon mentally scoffed.
"Can someone hand me bleach? My eyes are suffering." Hoseok sighed in his thoughts.
All six Jeon brothers looked at each other subtly across the table — eyes slightly widened, lips curled in mild disgust. No words needed. The look said it all:
They were absolutely, painfully, on the same page.
And somewhere in the midst of all that?
Jimin sat silently between Jin and Dae-hyun, eyes on his barely-touched food, completely ignored, forgotten in the wave of fake pouts and undeserved praise.
If he noticed the silent exchange between the Jeon brothers?
He didn't show it.
"By the way, Jimin... what have you thought regarding joining Jeon Corporations?"
Howon asked, his tone calm yet serious as he looked directly at the quiet boy.
Jimin's head lifted just slightly, eyes wide in surprise. But before he could even form a word—
"Well, Hyung, actually—"
Sadao began to speak, ready to step in.
But he didn't get far.
"Shut up. Did I ask you ?"
Howon cut him off coldly, eyes sharp.
"No, right? Let him answer."
"But Hyung—"
Sadao tried again, only to be met with more steel.
"Keep quiet, Sadao. You get that?"
Then his gaze flicked to the trembling boy across the table.
"Jimin , you speak now. He won't interrupt."
"But—"
"Uff, Sadao! Let him talk!"
Yuna snapped gently but firmly, her eyes briefly flashing with disappointment.
"I didn't hear him . Let him speak."
The room fell silent.
All eyes turned toward Jimin.
Especially the six Jeon brothers — their gaze intense, their curiosity spiked. The quiet, nervous boy hadn't spoken a single word since their arrival. Not even a proper greeting. And now, everyone could feel it — something was off .
Jimin kept his head lowered, hands trembling slightly in his lap.
His lips parted as if to say something... but no words came out.
He didn't know what to do.
Should he speak?
Would answering anger his father?
Was it even his place to respond?
His throat tightened with anxiety, mind racing with fear.
And still... silence.
BTS had turned their attention back to their plates, the clinking of cutlery filling the heavy silence. As curious as they were, the boy clearly wasn't going to speak—so they let it go.
At least, that's what they thought.
"Come on, dear. Speak, hmm? Don't be nervous around us,"
Yuna said, her voice warm and gentle—soothing like a mother's lullaby. Her calm, loving tone wrapped around Jimin like a soft blanket, reaching into the tight, trembling core of his chest.
And for the first time, it gave him exactly what he needed— courage .
Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat, fingers clutching the hem of his sweater under the table. Then finally, he lifted his head just a little and spoke—voice soft, barely above a whisper, but audible enough to catch every pair of ears.
"N-No... I haven't thought a-about it yet. B-But for now, I will just focus o-on completing my graduation in A-Arts,"
he said shyly, eyes darting to Yuna and then quickly back down again.
It was such a small thing—so small. But to everyone in the room, especially to the six men who had only seen silence from him until now, it was monumental.
The moment that soft, melodic voice escaped his lips—
BTS immediately looked up.
As if synchronized, their gazes lifted from their plates and turned toward him.
Straight at him.
Their sharp eyes, usually cold and unreadable, briefly widened—taken aback, not by what he said... but by how he said it.
That voice.
It was...
"His voice... It's so beautiful."
"So soft... calming too."
"Where was he hiding that...?"
Thoughts echoed silently among them, none of them speaking aloud but all thinking the exact same thing.
Howon smiled lightly but said nothing.
And Yuna, ever the warmth in the room, nodded.
"Hmm... it's okay, dear. You can think about it later. It's our family business—you're welcome to join whenever you feel ready,"
she said with a kind smile.
"And you're right, sweetheart. It's better to focus on your university first."
Jimin simply nodded, face still flushed with shyness—but a small relief washed over his features. At least... no one scolded him this time.
And though no one said it aloud, the six mafia kings of Korea, the cold and ruthless Jeon brothers... were watching him.
Carefully. Quietly.
For the first time... genuinely interested.