Stockholm Syndrome 11
Title: Stockholm Syndrome 11
Author: onthethruway01
Genre: smut, violence, revenge
Pairing: Yoosu
Rating: PG
Length: 11 of 12
Summary: Yoochun wants revenge on Junsu’s adopted father
A/N : next chapter will be the conclusion!
Junsu drove into his garage and parked his sedan. His mother’s driver was working on one of the many cars that were owned by the Kim family.
“Did you have a nice night, sir?” the driver asked.
Junsu smiled back at him and nodded his head.
“Your mother is looking for you. She’s a bit upset. I know it’s none of my business, but I figure I would give you a warning.”
Junsu bit his lower lip.
“Thanks for the heads up.”
Junsu left the garage and entered the house. He didn’t get very far.
“Where have you been, young man?”
Junsu sulked and blushed.
“Mother don’t yell at me. I’m not a child any more. I just went out to see a friend.”
His mother raised an eyebrow.
“And does this friend have a name?”
Junsu looked down at his feet.
“Well,” he hesitated, “my friends name is…”
“Junsu my boy, I’ve been looking for you!”
His father’s booming voice sent a chill up his spine. He put a strong arm around Junsu’s shoulders.
“Come, let’s have a drink.”
Mr. Kim’s wife narrowed her eyes at her husband. He laughed and practically dragged Junsu into his office.
“Come, let’s have that scotch.”
He poured his son a glass and then one for himself.
“Cheers.”
They clanked their glasses together. Junsu didn’t really like scotch, but he drank it anyway; the strong liquor burning as it went down.
“You know son, I’ve been neglecting you. Someday you will run my empire. I need to start having you attend more meetings and go on more trips with me. Would you like that?”
Junsu sipped on the scotch then cleared his throat.
“I’d like that very much, sir.”
Mr. Kim smiled.
“Good. Now do me a favor. Stay home tonight. You mother practically chewed my ear off about you going downtown. It’s not safe there; too many unsavory characters. Those two days you were with your girlfriend nearly drove her mad. I thought she was going to have a stroke.”
Mr. Kim chuckled and slapped his son on the back.
“Come. Let’s go to supper. I hear the cook has made something special for us tonight.”
Mr. Kim put his glass of scotch down on his desk and walked out the door of his office. Junsu did the same. He followed his father out; totally unaware of how unsafe the downtown section of the city truly was.
Park Yoochun sighed and looked at the clock.
2 A.M.
His patrons and staff had left his club an hour ago. He rubbed his eyes and decided to call it a night. Closing his books and shutting off the lamp he left his office and locked the door. He stretched and let out a yawn. It had been a long night. It was about to get even longer.
A steel door lead to the alley behind The Purple Line Club. Yoochun turned the lock and pulled the handle to make sure it was secure. A car door opened, followed by another. He was not alone. Tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong; very, very wrong.
“Park Yoochun.”
The voice was deep and ominous.
The club owner turned to face four men. In their gloved hands were baseball bats.
Yoochun smiled wickedly.
The thugs moved toward him, baseball bats gripped firmly in their hands.
Yoochun motioned with his hands for the gangsters to make their next move.
“Come gentlemen; let’s dance…”
Author: onthethruway01
Genre: smut, violence, revenge
Pairing: Yoosu
Rating: PG
Length: 11 of 12
Summary: Yoochun wants revenge on Junsu’s adopted father
A/N : next chapter will be the conclusion!
Junsu drove into his garage and parked his sedan. His mother’s driver was working on one of the many cars that were owned by the Kim family.
“Did you have a nice night, sir?” the driver asked.
Junsu smiled back at him and nodded his head.
“Your mother is looking for you. She’s a bit upset. I know it’s none of my business, but I figure I would give you a warning.”
Junsu bit his lower lip.
“Thanks for the heads up.”
Junsu left the garage and entered the house. He didn’t get very far.
“Where have you been, young man?”
Junsu sulked and blushed.
“Mother don’t yell at me. I’m not a child any more. I just went out to see a friend.”
His mother raised an eyebrow.
“And does this friend have a name?”
Junsu looked down at his feet.
“Well,” he hesitated, “my friends name is…”
“Junsu my boy, I’ve been looking for you!”
His father’s booming voice sent a chill up his spine. He put a strong arm around Junsu’s shoulders.
“Come, let’s have a drink.”
Mr. Kim’s wife narrowed her eyes at her husband. He laughed and practically dragged Junsu into his office.
“Come, let’s have that scotch.”
He poured his son a glass and then one for himself.
“Cheers.”
They clanked their glasses together. Junsu didn’t really like scotch, but he drank it anyway; the strong liquor burning as it went down.
“You know son, I’ve been neglecting you. Someday you will run my empire. I need to start having you attend more meetings and go on more trips with me. Would you like that?”
Junsu sipped on the scotch then cleared his throat.
“I’d like that very much, sir.”
Mr. Kim smiled.
“Good. Now do me a favor. Stay home tonight. You mother practically chewed my ear off about you going downtown. It’s not safe there; too many unsavory characters. Those two days you were with your girlfriend nearly drove her mad. I thought she was going to have a stroke.”
Mr. Kim chuckled and slapped his son on the back.
“Come. Let’s go to supper. I hear the cook has made something special for us tonight.”
Mr. Kim put his glass of scotch down on his desk and walked out the door of his office. Junsu did the same. He followed his father out; totally unaware of how unsafe the downtown section of the city truly was.
Park Yoochun sighed and looked at the clock.
2 A.M.
His patrons and staff had left his club an hour ago. He rubbed his eyes and decided to call it a night. Closing his books and shutting off the lamp he left his office and locked the door. He stretched and let out a yawn. It had been a long night. It was about to get even longer.
A steel door lead to the alley behind The Purple Line Club. Yoochun turned the lock and pulled the handle to make sure it was secure. A car door opened, followed by another. He was not alone. Tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong; very, very wrong.
“Park Yoochun.”
The voice was deep and ominous.
The club owner turned to face four men. In their gloved hands were baseball bats.
Yoochun smiled wickedly.
The thugs moved toward him, baseball bats gripped firmly in their hands.
Yoochun motioned with his hands for the gangsters to make their next move.
“Come gentlemen; let’s dance…”