The scent of tropical blooms and frying plantains drifted through the open breezeway the next morning. Tae picked at her papaya, the memory of Jungkook’s hungry eyes, Yoongi’s whispered threats, and Namjoon’s silent command turning the lush breakfast spread to ash in her mouth.

A young woman in crisp linen approached, smiling politely. "Ms. Tae? Your gentlemen request your presence in the Pearl Suite. For your... massage session." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "Now would be ideal."