he rain didn’t stop for two days.
Not since Mr. Jeon Jaehyun, CEO of Jeon Corp, was rushed to the hospital after a brutal highway accident.
The city whispered. The media speculated. And in the heart of the Jeon Corp building — the top floor, the executive wing — the CEO’s chair remained untouched.
Until today.
Park Jimin stepped out of the private elevator, the soft click of his polished shoes echoing in the empty hallway. His sleek black suit hugged his frame perfectly, not a wrinkle in sight. In his hands, a leather folder filled with urgent documents for the board meeting.
But his expression wasn’t calm today.
His gaze landed on the empty CEO chair.
The silence hurt more than the headlines.
[Jimin's POV]
Five years, he thought.
Five years I served Jeon Jaehyun.
He built this empire with fire in his eyes and trust in his hands… and now he lies unconscious in a hospital bed.
Jimin swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t afford emotion. Not here. Not in front of those board members waiting for him to lose composure.
He placed the file on the glass table. Took a breath.
“You have to come back, sir,” he whispered, eyes flicking to the chair again. “Jeon Corp needs you. I need—”
The elevator pinged behind him
[End jimin's POV]
Jimin turned.
The man who stepped out wasn’t the boy he remembered.
Jeon Jungkook, 21 years old. The only son of Jeon Jaehyun. The rumored playboy who left for Europe before finishing business school. The one Jimin had seen years ago, running barefoot through his father’s office, chewing gum, laughing like he owned the world.
But today—
Jungkook walked in like he owned hell.
Sleeves rolled up, revealing inked forearms. His white shirt clung to broad shoulders, silver ring glinting on his lower lip. The dark hair tousled. Eyes unreadable.
A storm in the shape of an alpha.
And he was staring straight at Jimin.
“Secretary Park,” Jungkook said, voice low but clear.
Jimin’s jaw tightened. “Mr. Jeon.”
A pause. A smirk.
“My father is Mr. Jeon,” Jungkook said. “Call me Jungkook. Or... whatever you want.”
Jimin exhaled sharply. “You shouldn’t be here without notice.”
“This is my company now,” Jungkook said, stepping closer. “Didn’t you get the memo?”
His scent rolled in suddenly — sharp, addictive, dominant. Jimin’s body tensed against instinct.
“You’re early,” Jimin managed. “The board was expecting you next week.”
“Plans changed,” Jungkook shrugged, brushing past him. “Guess I just missed you.”
Jungkook sat in the CEO chair without hesitation. Leaned back like it belonged to him. The same chair Jimin refused to even touch for days.
“Bring me the company financials, Secretary Park,” Jungkook said, glancing at him with a lazy challenge. “Unless you plan to quit.”
Jimin didn’t flinch.
He walked forward slowly, heels firm, folder tight in his grip, placing it neatly on the desk. Their fingers brushed for a moment.
Sparks.
Heat.
No.
“I work for your father,” Jimin said softly, not looking at him. “Not for you.”
Jungkook leaned forward, voice just above a whisper:
“You’ll change your mind.”
