Chapter Text
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
Present day.
The party glittered under rows of heavy crystal chandeliers, it made every polished surface glow gold light until the whole room looked like it had been washed in champagne. Laughter could be heard floating over the soft jazz, drifting from the stage and blending into the continuous sharp clinking of crystal flutes.
The room was packed wall-to-wall. Walking around was executives, top models, rising actors, and heirs to old-money chaebols and they were rubbing shoulders. They were showing off watches worth more than a mid-tier Seoul apartments. These were people who had probably never heard the word “no” in their entire lives.
Near one of the massive marble pillars sat Kim Daehyun. His shoulders were leaned back and his fingers wrapped loosely around a half-empty champagne glass. A small cluster of his usual circle had formed around him.
Daehyun subtly shifted his stance puffing his chest out just a fraction to let his Alpha presence carry that classic, effortless confidence. Though his eyes kept drifting back toward the grand entrance.
“I heard Park Jimin shot someone else down tonight.” An actor he’d been stuck talking to earlier said while leaning heavily against the back of a leather couch. His speech was already slurred and his breath thick with scotch.
Daehyun let out a quiet snort and swirled the gold liquid in his glass. He knew Jimin’s name was going to come up eventually. Ever since the rumor that swept through, the Vice Chairman was avtually making an appearance. Half the Alphas in the room had been constantly tugging at their collars visibly sweating at the thought of having to stand in the same room as the Omega with that much power.
Truthfully Daehyun had been looking forward to tonight for days. His chest felt tight with a pleasant eager flutter. Of course he was going to approach Jimin later It was only natural.
“Which one this time?” Asked a girl sitting across from them in a skin-tight backless red dress. If Daehyun remembered right she was an actress. He remembers her name being Kim Soohee—no, Suli right. Suli crossed her legs with a soft rustle of silk.
“The son from that shipping conglomerate.”
“No way,” Another guy interjected waving a dismissive hand. “that was last month, tonight it was some actor.”
“The actor?” Suli repeated while leaning forward at the same time and resting her chin on a manicured hand. “the big one?”
“Yep the big one.”
“Huh.” Suli set her glass on the marble coffee table with a tiny clink. Her expression didn't even shift she looked completely unbothered.
Nobody in the circle looked genuinely surprised one of the men sighed, running a hand through his styled hair and letting out a long frustrated breath.
“Honestly I’d start questioning my own face if Park Jimin rejected me like that.” Jaemin, another actor in their group muttered with a self-deprecating groan.
Daehyun found the whole thing almost funny and secretly loved it. He loved that Jimin didn't let anyone get close let alone touch him. Especially considering how much extra attention Jimin had been giving him lately.
Sure his agent had technically set up those initial meetings. It was supposed to be a standard corporate cross-promotion. Daehyun’s agency getting pictured alongside the Vice Chairman of Park Group to boost both their profiles for an upcoming charity drive.
The press photos were scripted down to the second. The handshakes were timed for the cameras as well, as the smiles that was rehearsed, the brief side-by-side walks calculated by publicists standing just out of frame. It was nothing romantic to the media.
But Daehyun knew better because you couldn't fake the kind of eye contact they'd shared between takes. A PR campaign didn't explain why Jimin had looked at him so intently during the second shoot or why he’d answered so eagerly when Daehyun spoke to him. Daehyun was convinced that if they kept "running into each other" like this, the PR front would drop and turn into something real.
A formal courting period or maybe even a mating ceremony down the line. The thought alone sent a quiet wave of alpha pride straight to his head.
“You should question your face anyway,” Someone joked from the side.
The alpha he targeted immediately scowled and his jaw tightening as his scent spiked a strong, acrid burst of burnt pine that cut right through the room. “Shut up.” Jaemin snapped back while rubbing the back of his neck.
The sudden clash of irritated scents made the group break into snickers. Across the room another high-profile guest walked by prompting someone on the couch to lean in and drop their voice to a whisper.
“I still don’t get him.” Yoona chimed in frowning into her glass.
“Get who?”
“Park Jimin.” Yoona said looking around at the rest of them like it was obvious. “He’s an omega.”
“And?” Jaemin asked tilting his head with a confused squint.
She leaned closer her voice dropping another notch. “Every alpha, beta, hell even the omegas in Seoul are practically lining up for a shot with him. And he treats every single one of them like they’re completely invisible.” She took a slow sip watching them over the rim.
Daehyun chuckled softly shifting his weight and rolling his shoulders back. He felt ridiculously good tonight. “That’s because most of them are invisible to him,” Daehyun said a smug grin catching the corner of his mouth.
“You know what I mean Daehyun.”
“I do.”
“I’ve literally never seen anyone actually touch the guy,” Jaemin pointed out tapping his knee for emphasis. “maybe a handshake yes, but no casual arm around the shoulder zero flirting. He won't even accept a dance.”
“Word is if an Alpha gets too close or tries to push their scent around him he just walks away.” Another voice added from the end of the couch.
Someone whistled softly. “That’s harsh.”
“It’s Park Jimin,” Jaemin said flatly as if that explained everything.
The Vice Chairman of Park Group.
He was young and so stupidly rich as well as almost unfairly good-looking. He was also ridiculously full of himself if you believed anyone who’d ever tried to talk to him for more than five minutes.
And yet despite all the talk about his cold rejections no one could bring themselves to hate him. Probably because every bitter story about his attitude was always balanced out by a quiet report of him donating millions to children's hospitals without a press release covering his staff's medical bills.
Daehyun had tried looking for dirt on him before but he’d never found a single genuinely bad article. Every piece praised his sharpness, his composure and his family line. He was so well-liked he was basically a celebrity with media demand as insane as any A-lister at this party.
Either Jimin had the entire press corps wrapped around his finger through sheer charm or he was paying his PR team astronomical amounts of money.
Daehyun doubted that it was just money. Having been close to him during those promotional shoots he knew Jimin had an almost hypnotic draw it was magnetic, controlled and yet delicate.
And his scent—God the way he smelled was unreal. Even through the layer of suppressant patch the faint sweet trace of pear blossoms hung around him like a drug to Daehyun’s nose. It was a siren call to every Alpha in the room. Jimin was rare and he clearly knew it.
He’s impossible, Daehyun thought taking a slow sip to cool his throat. “You’re all talking like he’s some kind of legend.” Daehyun said out loud waving a dismissive hand even as his own pulse kicked up. He couldn't let them see how whipped he actually was over a few brief interactions.
Jaemin raised an eyebrow smirking. “Is he not?”
“No” Daehyun said dryly.
“Oh so you’re an expert on Park Jimin now?”
Daehyun couldn't stop the smug grin from creeping onto his face. “Actually,” He let the word trail out and the whole table went quiet eyes snapping to him. “we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.” He wanted them to digest it before continuing.
“What?” Someone blurted out.
“A few hang outs here and there,” Daehyun lied inflating the two stiff handler-supervised media shoots into an intimate connection. “we’ve talked extensively.”
Jaemin nearly choked on his drink. “You’re full of it.”
“I’m not.”
“Do you have his personal number?”
Daehyun’s smile hesitated for a fraction of a second. “No, not yet”
The group instantly burst into laughter.
“He remembers me personally and also he looks for me out of his own way” Daehyun said quickly holding up a hand
“Oh congratulations!” Suli clapped her hands with a dry sarcastic laugh.
“He greets me first,” Daehyun claimed (that was a total lie The publicists had literally instructed Jimin to step toward Daehyun for the camera angles but they didn't need to know that. In his mind the intent was there.
“No way.”
“I’m serious.”
One of the alphas folded his arms and slightly leaning back with a skeptical grin. “So have you actually touched him?
Daehyun’s smile locked up the champagne suddenly tasted flat. “We’re keeping things slow right now.”
The couch erupted again.
“I knew it!” Yoona wheezed holding her side.
Laugh all you want, Daehyun thought grinding his back teeth together. Just wait soon enough he’s going to be walking right past all of you to stand next to me without a camera crew telling him to.
“He won't let anyone close.” Yoona wheezed.
“We’re taking our time.” Daehyun muttered adjusting his suit cuffs with a tight breath. “It’s about building trust—”
Before anyone could call him out further the noise in their corner began to die down. The shift spread outward like a wave and the room’s volume turning down notch by notch.
Jaemin looked over toward the large double doors. “Seems like you’r mate is here.” Daehyung could hear the mock in his voice.
Daehyun’s head snapped around immediately. And as annoying as it was to admit none of the exaggerated stories ever quite did Park Jimin justice.
He didn't even have a giant security detail pushing people out of the way, (If you don't count the god-awful secretary he had, always following him like a dog.)
But the second his dark dress shoes stepped onto the polished floor the whole room seemed to pull toward him. His silk-blond hair fell naturally across his forehead, it was styled just enough to look effortless. His white suit fit him like it had been made just for him, it was highlighting every smooth graceful line of how he moved.
He gave small polite nods to the people closest to the entrance. A tiny smile here, a brief distant greeting there always completely in control.
The crowd naturally parted for him without him ever asking them to. People just stepped back on instinct. Daehyun let out a quiet laugh shaking his head a wave of nerves hit his stomach but he forced his frame to stay relaxed. Looking at him right now, Jimin didn't look like he wanted to deal with anyone.
Should I go over now? Yeah he's probably looking for a familiar face.
“See?” Daehyun said turning back to his group and nodding toward the entrance.
“What?”
“He’s just a person.”
Suli stared at him with complete deadpan energy. “You are deeply delusional.”
Daehyun didn't even bother replying he set his glass down on a passing server's tray, smoothed the front of his jacket and rolled his shoulders.
“I’m going to go say hello.” He announced as he stood up and turned. He started walking across the room toward the lounge area where Jimin was heading ignoring the laughs quieted behind his back.
“Good luck star!” Jaemin called out softly.
“Don't forget to ask for his number this time!”
Daehyun ignored them keeping his eyes locked on his target.
Jimin seemed to had taken a seat on a largevelvet sectional.
And to Daehyun’s absolute satisfaction Jimin’s usual shadow that remarkably irritating dog secretary was nowhere in sight.
To be fair the secretary had never been rude to Daehyun. During their promotional shoots the man had been completely professional, handing over schedules and coordinating details without a hitch. But the way the guy always stood just an inch too close to Jimin’s shoulder practically swimming in his scent boundary had driven Daehyun crazy.
jimin was a little hypocritical for only letting that dog close but starting to bark himself if somebody else even got five centemeters close.
But still it was fineally a chance to talk without his dog hanging around, Daehyun thought a surge of triumph hitting him.
A glass of untouched champagne sat on the low table in front of Jimin. He had one leg crossed over the other and his posture was straight but he wasn't looking at the party or any of the people watching him.
His eyes were fixed on the heavy glass windows on the far wall completely unfocused. He had one hand raised, resting his chin on his knuckles while his thumb absently traced his jawline.
Daehyun slowed down a step. It was an odd look on Jimin he looked quiet and almost distantly troubled. A massive contrast to the sharp, perfect image he usually projected.
Shaking it off Daehyun forced his best smooth smile onto his face and stepped across the invisible line around the sofa and gave a refined bow. “Vice Chairman Park.”
Jimin’s head turned slowly itt took a second for his eyes to focus on Daehyun’s face before recognition registered. “Oh.” Jimin said his voice low and soft and naturally polite. “Kim Daehyun.”
Daehyun’s smile widened naturally. The fact that Jimin pulled his name up so fast out of all the people he saw every day felt like total validation. Proof that those scripted photops had meant just as much to Jimin as they had to him.
“You remembered.”
“I try to remember most people.” Jimin said plainly dropping his hand from his chin.
Daehyun took that as his cue, stepping around the table and sliding into the empty space on the sofa next to him. He was careful to leave a respectable distance not wanting to push his luck too fast or else he might get barked out.
Not that he would mind much, Jimin would probably bark in a hot way.
“I haven’t seen you around much since the shoot last month,” Daehyun said angling his body toward the omega by his side, letting his posture drop into something more open, something a little more inviting.
“Hm.” Jimin made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and his eyes drifting back toward the dark glass of the window. He was completely checked out and then without Daehyun expecting it and without looking back at Daehyun, Jimin spoke up in a tone unnaturally flat ”What is wrong with Secretary Jeon?”
Daehyun’s smile froze and his eyebrows pulled together in instant confusion by themselves.
What?
“Excuse me?”
Jimin turned his head back to him genuinely frustrated now. His brows were knit together as a tiny crease forming between them it seemed like a rare unguarded crack in his usual perfect composure. It looked like he’d completely forgotten where he was.
“Why is he acting like this?” Jimin asked.
Daehyun sat there his mouth slightly open and his brain stalling out. Here he was sitting next to the most sought-after omega in the city, setting the stage for what was supposed to be their first real unscripted moment and Jimin was sitting there in a custom suit stressing out over his dog?
A sharp ugly spike of jealousy flared in Daehyun’s chest burning in the back of his throat. He took a long quiet breath letting the faint scent of pear blossoms calm him down though he could pick up a sour, anxious edge hiding underneath the floral note now.
Jimin dropped his gaze to his own hands muttering under his breath, “It doesn't make any sense.”
He looked genuinely deeply bothered by it. Daehyun stared at him then glanced out over the sparkling ballroom filled with billionaires media moguls and top-tier alphas all watching them from afar before looking back at Jimin’s distracted face.
“You’re seriously sitting here thinking about your secretary?” Daehyun asked unable to hide the complete disbelief in his voice.
Jimin blinked tilting his head slightly and looking at Daehyun as if he was the one saying something entirely out of line.
“Yes. What is wrong with Secretary Jeon?”
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
A Few Days Earlier
At exactly 6:30 every morning the motorized silk curtains in Park Jimin’s master bedroom glided open without a sound. The bright blinding morning sunlight spilled across the massive king-sized bed, burning right through his closed eyelids.
Jimin immediately squinched his face into a tight frown, groaning loudly as he tried to shield his face from the sun's attack.
He hadn't managed to get more than four hours of sleep over the past few days, thanks to a mountain of urgent acquisitions at headquarters. But of course an endless workload never stopped his secretary from adhering strictly to the clock.
Jimin rolled away from the window, burying his face deeper into the mountain of plush white pillows and pulling the duvet over his ears.
“Five more minutes.” Jimin pleaded his voice was thick with sleep as he stretched his legs under the heavy covers, before letting out another dramatic groan.
He didn't feel the slightest bit self-conscious acting like a bratty child in front of the tall alpha standing by his bed. Secretary Jeon had seen him in infinitely worse states. Sick with fever or nursing terrible hangovers and rumpled after 20-hour flights.
“You said that yesterday.” A soft velvety voice replied from the foot of the bed. Hearing that smooth low tone almost made Jimin want to fall back asleep right then and there.
Honestly, Jimin thought vaguely into his pillow, if Jungkook ever gets tired of corporate life he could easily make millions doing audiobooks.
Without opening his eyes Jimin let out a louder more aggrieved groan. “And?”
“And we arrived at the executive suite six minutes later than planned.” Jungkook replied and his tone as clear and calm as ever.
Jimin finally cracked one eye open peeking through his messy blond bangs.
Secretary Jeon stood perfectly erect at the foot of the bed. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit and a sleek black tablet tucked neatly beneath his arm.
His expression as always was a wall of absolute composure giving nothing away. But beneath his professional exterior his steady presence was a grounding anchor in the room completely controlled. With the scent suppressants firmly locked down yet instinctively comforting.
“The shareholder’s meeting begins at nine sharp. We leave the residence in forty-five minutes.” Jungkook informed him smoothly and looking down checking his watch.
Jimin let out a long suffering sigh before dramatically whipping the heavy blanket off his body. “You know most secretaries open the door and say things like ‘Good morning, sir.’”
“I did” Jungkook responded without breaking eye contact for a single second.
There was a strange silent intensity in the way Jungkook looked at him, a quiet focus that always managed to poke at Jimin's pride and igniting a tiny spark in his chest, that he could never fully explain. Before his sleepy mind could dwell on the odd warmth spreading through his chest he pushed himself up.
”No you didn't.” Jimin muttered swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting there for a moment with his eyes half-shut.
He knew for a fact that the left side of his blond hair was currently sticking straight up like a cockatoo's crest, a rare unglamorous sight reserved exclusively for Secretary Jeon's eyes but he was too exhausted to care.
Secretary Jeon didn’t answer that instead he simply turned on his heel. His dark shoes making no sound as he walked toward the expansive walk-in closet. “I’ve already prepared today’s ensemble.” He called out and his voice slightly louder so Jimin could hear him.
Jimin stretched his arms over his head, dragging his feet as he shuffled after him into the closet.
Calling it a closet was a massive understatement it looked more like a private luxury boutique in Gangnam. Rows of custom-tailored jackets were arranged flawlessly by color and season flanked by glass displays of silk ties, dress shoes and Jimin’s absolute favorite weakness that was fine jewelry.
He was an omega who thoroughly enjoyed sparkling things and he had never been afraid to rock a dangling diamond earring alongside his sharp silhouette. Jimin leaned casually against the central marble island rubbing the sleep from his eyes. In the mean time Jungkook reached directly for a rich burgundy suit without a moment's hesitation.
Jungkook had spent more time in this dressing room than Jimin himself. Jimin was sure Jungkook knew every cut of fabric and every designer in Jimin's wardrobe by heart.
“This one.” The velvet voice stated softly as Jungkook turned holding up the suit for Jimin’s approval. Jimin evaluated the rich wool fabric tracing the crisp lapels with his eyes and the choice was magnificent. Jungkook knew precisely what to dress him in.
Jimin raised an eyebrow eyeing the fabric. "Are you sure? Last time I wore burgundy to a board meeting Old Man Choi had a near-fatal stroke because he thought I was 'dressing like a pop star.'"
"Director Choi had a stroke because you cut his budget by thirty percent." Jungkook replied without missing a second and smoothing the shoulder of the jacket. "The suit was just an innocent bystander."
”Fair point.” Jimin hummed a tiny smirk touching his lips as he took the jacket. “Besides the old fools need something pretty to look at while I take their money.”
Secretary Jeon knew Jimin preferred to look bold and slightly dangerous on days when he had to face the old-guard shareholders. Those traditional alphas were already quietly bitter about a young omega holding the Vice Chairman seat. Dressing impeccably while tearing their poor financial models apart just added a delightful touch of insult to the injury.
Truthfully his secretary didn't even need to ask. Jimin couldn't recall rejecting one of his secretary's outfit choices in years.
”At least it’s actually burgundy this time.” Jimin murmured taking the jacket by the shoulders. “Not accidental lavender.”
A microscopic twitch in Jungkook’s left eyebrow was the only sign that the blow had landed. ”That was eight years ago Vice Chairman.” Jungkook said his tone impossibly dry. “And the dry cleaner misread the care label on your silk blouse it was an industry error.”
“You tried to fix it by putting a five-thousand-dollar raw silk shirt in a residential tumble dryer Jeon.” Jimin corrected leaning in slightly with a glint of pure satisfaction in his eyes. “It came out sized for a teddy bear and i had to wear a backup suit three sizes too big to the Ministry of Commerce summit I looked like a child playing dress-up in his father’s closet.”
”And yet you still managed to secure the tax exemption.” Jungkook replied smoothly and stepping back to retrieve the matching trousers. “I consider it a tactical success.”
Jimin let out a genuine breathy laugh and shaking his head as he ran a hand over the immaculate wool of the burgundy jacket. ”You were so terrified I was going to fire you.” Jimin recalled softly his voice softening with sudden warmth. “You stood in my office shaking so hard you almost dropped your notepad.”
”I wasn’t terrified of being fired.” Jungkook murmured, holding out the trousers. “I was terrified I’d ruined your favorite shirt.”
Jimin paused looking up at his secretary’s stoic face. For a fraction of a second the quiet protective undertone in Jungkook's voice hung in the air between.
“Your schedule today.” Jungkook began smoothly taking a step back toward the tablet. It includes a negotiation with Orion Electronics then later lunch with Director Han, an exclusive interview with Forbes Asia, and the annual charity foundation gala tonight.”
“You are actively trying to kill me.” Jimin groaned raising a hand to press his knuckles against his tired eyes.
“No.” Jungkook corrected softly handing him the freshly pressed dress shirt. “Your calendar is actually four percent lighter than last Thursday.”
“You are definitely trying to kill me.”
Twenty minutes later after finishing his morning skincare and meticulously fixing his hair Jimin stepped out of the fitting area. He adjusted the silk cuffs of his shirt before taking a stance in front of the full-length mirror. The burgundy suit fit him like gold and accentuating his narrow waist and elegant lines.
Jimin slowly turned sideways, admiring the drape of the jacket.
“I look expensive.” Jimin noted aloud raising an eyebrow at his reflection as he placed his hands on his hips. Jimin smiled as he was thoroughly satisfied with the view. “I really am unfairly beautiful aren't I?”
“You’ve mentioned that three times this morning.” his secretary announced without a hint of emotion though his dark eyes remained fixed on Jimin’s reflection in the glass.
“Because it’s been true three times this morning.” Jimin shot back smoothly puffing his chest out just a bit more. Jungkook stepped forward and he was carrying a slate-gray silk tie over his arm. He stopped directly in front of Jimin and because he was an alpha Jungkook was naturally taller and broader. Right now his broad shoulders was easily blocking out a portion of the mirror's light.
To look him in the eye Jimin had to tilt his head up slightly. It was their usual daily dance while Jimin strictly enforced a rigid personal space boundary with almost every other alpha in his life he didn't mind Jungkook standing close.
In fact he found the alpha’s subtle clean scent completely neutral and professional and familiar was oddly grounding. “Stand still.” Jungkook ordered softly lifting the silk tie.
“I am standing still.”
Without wasting another breath Jungkook looped the silk tie around Jimin’s collar. His fingers were cool against Jimin's throat making Jimin wince slightly and duck his chin.
"Hold still." Jungkook murmured.
”Your hands are like ice." Jimin complained though he didn't pull away. He looked up and was watching the faint line between Jungkook’s eyebrows that was concentrating on the knot. "You know back when you were a junior assistant, your hands used to shake so badly while tying my tie I thought you were going to strangle me."
Jungkook’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second against the silk before he finished the slide. "I was terrified you were going to fire me for touching your collar."
"I was going to fire you," Jimin hummed offering a small and fond smirk. "Then you remembered exactly how I take my espresso on day three so I decided to keep you."
He straightened the knot with a light firm press against Jimin’s collarbone. Perfect like every single time. It was entirely thanks to Jungkook that the Vice Chairman had never bothered learning how to tie his own tie properly.
“You’ve become very good at this.” Jimin said quietly, his voice dropping low given their close proximity. He could feel the faint heat radiating off the alpha’s chest.
“I’ve tied approximately three thousand of your ties.” Jungkook answered a faint and almost invisible trace of amusement lifting the corner of his eye.
“Only three thousand?” Jimin teased his mood instantly brightening. “That feels low.”
“That was a conservative estimate.”
A soft laugh escaped Jimin’s throat. “Perfect.”
“I know.”
“You’ve become awfully confident.” Jimin said locking eyes with the alpha in front of him.
It was true when Jungkook had first started as his junior assistant years ago he had been quiet and hyper-cautious. He was so easily flustered by Jimin’s sharp tongue. But at the same time he knew exactly how to handle him.
Because now he is matching Jimin step-for-step without batting an eye.
“I learned from the best.” Jungkook replied smoothly. Right he also knew exactly how to compliment the omega.
Jimin preened smiling proudly. “As you should.”
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
The main conference room fell into a suffocating silence the moment Jimin spoke. Across the polished walnut table sat six senior executives from Orion Electronics.
Half an hour ago they had strutted into the room with confident smirks taking their seats as if they owned the building. God, Jimin took immense pleasure in watching those arrogant smirks slowly disintegrate.
As the lead executive droned on about Q3 projections, Jimin lowered his head pretending to examine his leather folder with deep intellectual rigor.
In reality he was using the cover to hide the fact that he was sliding his heel halfway out of his right Oxford shoe under the table.
God, these brand-new Italian shoes were killing him.
Beneath the cover of the polished walnut table Jimin quietly slipped his left heel out of his shoe and letting out a silent sigh of relief as his foot stretched on the cool carpet. By his side sat Jungkook quietly. He was on a lot of Jimin meetings. Secretary Jeon tapped his tablet screen twice.
It was their subtle unspoken code from years of tedious meetings: They’ve lied three times already wrap it up. Refreshed by the silent validation Jimin closed the folder with a soft decisive click.
Right now nobody at the table dared to meet his gaze. Jimin sat casually at the head of the long table one leg crossed elegantly over the other and his manicured fingertips resting lightly on the cover of a black leather folder. His expression was bright and polite and at the same time entirely terrifying.
“So.” Jimin smiled with his voice sweet as honey. “Let’s review your expansion proposal one more time.”
One executive swallowed hard his throat making a loud click while another reached nervously for his water glass. The atmosphere in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Our revised projections” Jimin began while clearing his throat, “They’re slightly inaccurate.”
“Excuse me?” The alpha said lifting a single eyebrow Jimin could smell the alphas scent souring into a bitter spike of anxiety that managed to leak past his body. That made his nose twitch in disgust.
Ugh, sour cedar.
He hated when incompetent Alphas couldn't control their emotional scents in a boardroom setting. It was precisely why Park Group had strict workplace regulations about heavy-duty suppressants.
A dull headache began to pulse behind Jimin’s temples. Jimin slid a thick document across the smooth wood and letting out a soft sigh. “You projected an eleven percent increase in overseas demand for Q3.” Jimin pointed out smoothly.
The Alpha hesitated while shifting uncomfortably in his leather chair. “Yes based on market—”
“Except your own primary supplier reports estimate a maximum of six.” Jimin interrupted his voice light and conversational. “You also somehow assumed international shipping tariffs would remain completely static.”
He looked up locking his sharp gaze onto the lead executive and watching the man grow paler by the second. They could whine all they wanted in private about a young Omega holding the Vice Chairman seat but they couldn't dispute the fact that Jimin possessed a terrifyingly precise mind for numbers.
“Shipping costs increased by four percent last month.” Jimin continued tilting his head slightly. “Did nobody on your financial team bother to read the news?”
Silence stretched across the room and nobody dared answer.
“You asked the Park Group to invest two hundred billion won.” Jimin said closing the leather folder with a soft decisive click. “I simply assumed someone would have checked the math before requesting my money.”
He hadn't raised his voice once he didn't even sound angry or aggressive. No he sounded disappointed which was infinitely worse. These men were wasting his time.
Jimin didn't have a fundamental problem with corporate privilege after all his bloodline had brought him to this building. But if someone was going to sit at his table he expected them to do their damn homework.
The lead executive cleared his throat weakly. “We… may need a short recess to revisit our calculations. We apologise”
“I agree.” Jimin said and smoothly rising from his seat and buttoning his jacket.
“When you’ve finished revisiting them call Secretary Jeon.” He offered a breathtaking razor-sharp smile and without waiting for a response. Jimin turned and walked toward the double doors. Jungkook stepping in flawlessly right behind him.
Before the doors shut Jimin could hear the collective heavy exhale of six terrified executives releasing the breath they’d been holding for forty minutes.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
Outside in the quiet marble hallway Jimin checked his gold watch and adjusted his cuffs. “I was gentle today,” Jimin noted.
Jungkook glanced down at him, his face deadpan. “You made their Chief Financial Officer apologize to an Excel spreadsheet.”
“He apologized voluntarily.” The blond objected smoothly widening his eyes into a picture of pure harmless innocence. He widened them just enough to look like a harmless vulnerable puppy. At least that’s what Jungkook had blurted out to him once.
It had happened years ago, after a particularly brutal late-night negotiation with a stubborn board member.
Jungkook who was slightly drunk after Jimin had forced him to drink a few shots of celebratory soju had stared at him and muttered that Jimin was terrifyingly skilled at switching between a lethal siren and a helpless puppy in a span of three seconds.
He had admitted with an unusually relaxed grin that he couldn't decide which version he preferred.
Jimin remembered that night vividly it was one of the very few times he had ever caught a trace of Jungkook’s natural scent. The scent patch on the neck of his secretary had been used the whole day so it had stopped working slightly, releasing a warm, comforting note of sweet vanilla into the cool night air.
It had caught Jimin entirely off guard. It wasn't the harsh or aggressive scent witch was the typical of alphas. No it was deep, smooth, and oddly soothing to Jimin’s restless omega instincts. Jimin still didn't know why that silly memory refused to fade. Sometimes he wondered if Jungkook remembered saying it or if the alcohol had wiped it clean.
Jungkook had never brought it up again and Jimin was far too proud to ask.
As they stepped toward the private executive elevators Jungkook’s phone vibrated silently in his breast pocket. He pulled it out with fluid precision checking the screen. “The New York branch.”
Their shoes tapped in unison against the spotless floor.
Jimin nodded once. “Answer it.”
Jungkook accepted the call bringing the phone to his ear without slowing his pace. “Good morning this is Jeon Jungkook speaking.”
His voice shifted effortlessly into fluent dark-timbered English. “Yes Vice Chairman Park personally reviewed the revised proposal before today’s morning session.”
They stepped into the waiting elevator as the doors sliding shut smoothly behind them.
“No we will not be moving the signing date.” Jungkook continued in English his tone firm a refined way and completely unyielding. “I understand your logistics concern… I will forward the amended documents once our legal team has cleared them.”
He listened quietly for a few seconds. “Thank you have a pleasant evening.” He ended the call just as the elevator hummed to a stop.
Jimin looked up at his secretary and tilting his head. “Your English has gotten remarkably good.” Jungkook blinked a momentary flicker of surprise passing through his dark eyes before his mask settled back into place.
Compliments from Park Jimin were rarer than gold dust.
“Thank you Vice Chairman.” Jungkook said giving a small formal bow of his head.
“You’ve improved drastically.”
“I suppose that’s thanks to your harsh training and endless motivation.” Jungkook replied his voice so dry that anyone else would have missed the dry sarcasm entirely.
Jimin however took it as a literal truth and nodded with absolute sincerity. “Exactly.”
Jungkook stared down at him with his lips pressing into a flat line.
“You did pronounce one word incorrectly though.” Jimin added glancing sideways at him as the elevator resumed its descent.
Growing up as the sole heir to Park Group Jimin had been forced to master English before he could even write proper Hanja. His father had insisted that global fluency was non-negotiable, eventually sending him to Canada for his high school years.
His time in Canada had been tough but it had given him a taste of total anonymity. Away from the flashing cameras of the Korean press. He had been free to explore, speak and live without an entourage.
His English had become completely flawless i was accentless and sharp.
“I did?” Jungkook questioned raising a single dark eyebrow.
“Mhm.” Jimin straightened his spine and clearing his throat with grand importance. “You said proposal.”
“I did.”
“The second syllable was entirely too flat.” Without warning Jimin repeated the word his accent crisp and fluid and terribly smug. “‘Pro-PO-sal.’” He looked up at Jungkook expectantly. “Try it again.”
Jungkook closed his eyes for a single second letting out a breath so quiet Jimin almost missed it. “Proposal.”
Jimin winced dramatically holding his hand up to his heart as if mortally wounded. “Better… but nowhere near as natural as mine. You sound like a news anchor reading a obituary.”
Jungkook looked up at the glowing floor indicator then back down at Jimin. “I will continue to practice.”
“You definitely should.”
“I have a very demanding teacher.”
“I know.”
The elevator doors chimed and slid open. Jungkook stepped to the side extending an open hand to hold the door gesturing politely toward the executive lobby.
“After you, Vice Chairman.”
Jimin stepped out into the lobby and looking entirely pleased with himself. Nine years... and Vice Chairman Park Jimin still found brand-new ways to congratulate himself on being superior.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
The grand ballroom of the Grand Seorin Hotel shimmered beneath dozens of massive crystal chandeliers, every polished surface reflecting warm, amber light. It was the kind of high-society gala people spent months trying to secure an invitation to.
Politicians, tech founders, foreign investors and media moguls drifted between clusters of conversation while holding thin champagne flutes. The most powerful families in the country occupied the space with complete ease and chatting like old childhood friends.
In truth most of them were. They had all scraped their knees on the same private preschool playgrounds and traded rumors about whose uncle was faking a golf injury to dodge a tax audit.
The elite circles of Seoul were surprisingly small. Families married into each other's conglomerates and businesses partnered and rivalries spanned decades. Though the gala was for charity from the outside in reality it was just a networking party where the rich only got richer.
But Jimin was truly here for the charity. Jimin’s father had attended this exact gala for nearly thirty years. Tonight Jimin represented the family empire alone.
He stood in the quiet marble foyer just outside the main doors adjusting his heavy gold cufflinks. Tonight he was wearing a daring custom white suit jacket with no shirt underneath leaving just a subtle tasteful V of skin visible at his chest, balanced by crisp black leather trousers.
It was a bold move, the kind of outfit that made conservative sixty-year-old board members cough into their napkins while secretly wishing they had half his confidence.
Jungkook had outdone himself choosing the silhouette but Jimin had added the final touch that was a delicate Tiffany & Co. rose-gold pendant resting against his collarbone. If he was going to be bored to death by corporate politics tonight he was going to look breathtaking while enduring it.
Behind him Secretary Jeon stood silently reviewing the evening’s guest seating chart on his tablet one last time mean while his sharp gaze scanning the room like a hawk. Jungkook probably knew every scandal in that room. Himin would bet on that he knew who was secretly filing for divorce, who was losing money on crypto, and who was allergic to shellfish.
He was dressed in a simple but perfectly tailored navy suit and his broad frame and immaculate posture made the outfit look like high fashion. Jimin blinked and his eyes lingering on the width of his secretary's back.
Why on earth am I thinking about his shoulders right now?
It was just ridiculous. The man built like a brick wall was standing there holding an iPad and Jimin was behaving like a distracted teenager.
Shaking his head internally, Jimin snapped his focus back to business.
“There have been two last-minute adjustments,” Jungkook reported smoothly from behind his shoulder.
Jimin didn't bother sounding surprised. Guest lists at these events were constantly shifting as egos clashed and power dynamics swung. These people treated seating arrangements like a blood sport. Moving someone two tables back from the head table was practically a declaration of war. “Naturally.”
“The Minister of Trade arrived thirty minutes earlier than scheduled.”
“Mm.” Jimin hummed dryly. The Minister's ego always demanded a solo entrance before the room grew too crowded to notice him. He was notorious for showing up early just to eat all the imported salmon before anyone else could get to the buffet.
“And Chairman Seo’s son will be attending in his father's place.”
“I’ve met him once.” Jimin noted.
“You have.” Jungkook agreed closing the digital folder. “When he was fourteen.”
“Then perhaps a brief reminder of who I am would be appreciated.” Back then the kid had spilled grape juice on Jimin’s favorite shoes and cried behind a sofa for an hour.
The heavy mahogany doors were pulled open by attendants and the ambient noise of soft jazz and chatter spilled into the hallway alongside the sharp cool draft of air conditioning.
Jimin suppressed a small shiver because wearing a jacket with no shirt beneath was visually stunning but terrible for temperature control. Before he could adjust his posture Jungkook took a subtle step closer, lowering his head until his lips were inches from Jimin’s ear shell.
“Eight o’clock,” Jungkook murmured his deep voice vibrating softly.
Jimin felt the faint warm brush of his secretary's breath against his ear instantly cutting through the chill of the hallway. Even with Jungkook’s scent suppressants firmly applied, being this close meant Jimin caught the microscopic undertone of clean vanilla beneath his collar a grounded and heavy anchor.
A strange delicate pulse fluttered beneath Jimin’s skin right where his pulse point beat against the rose-gold necklace. It was infuriating how one quiet breath from Jungkook could scramble his brain faster than a glass of straight whiskey. He swallowed quietly before following the direction without moving his head.
“Chairwoman Lee. Daehan Pharmaceuticals.” Jimin identified smoothly.
“Mhm she’s hoping to corner you about funding the expansion of their Busan research center.”
“Not tonight.” Jimin murmured back. Chairwoman Lee possessed a terrifying talent for converting a five-minute greeting into a forty-five-minute lecture where actual business discussions vanished after minute ten.
“I’ve already coordinated with her assistant to schedule a formal sit-down next Tuesday.” Jungkook whispered back.
“Excellent work and your left?”
“Ambassador Richard Collins. You’ve met twice.”
“His wife?” Jimin recalled softly.
“Collects contemporary Korean ceramics.”
“Right.”
“Nine o’clock.”
Jimin fought off a tiny smile Jungkook was like an entire intelligence agency packed into one impossibly handsome package. Jimin is never letting this package slip from his fingers. “Secretary Jeon.”
“Yes, Vice Chairman?”
“I sometimes genuinely wonder if your brain has reached maximum storage capacity.”
“It has not.”
“No?”
“I reorganized my archive system yesterday.”
Jimin let out a quiet melodic laugh. “I see.”
The corners of Jungkook’s lips lifted in an almost invisible smile. “Ready?”
Jimin squared his broad shoulders and straightening his white lapels. “Yes.” Together they stepped through the threshold into the glittering ballroom.
It didn't matter how many high-society galas Jimin attended the reaction from the crowd was always identical. Conversations stumbled, heads turned and eyes tracked his movement across the floor. People smiled before he was even close enough to greet them.
He was entirely used to it after all he looked exceptional. Elegant, sophisticated and objectively speaking outrageously beautiful. Jimin had long since accepted that pretending not to know his own worth was a waste of energy. He’d spent his early twenties trying to be humble only to realize that people in business just walked all over you if you didn't own the room first.
As he glided through the room greeting one conglomerate executive after another he noticed the familiar pattern. Alphas stealing long lingering glances some quickly averting their eyes the moment he looked directly at them, while others weren't subtle at all.
He offered flawless polite smiles and exchanged in light pleasantries, accepted lavish praise regarding Park Group’s recent stock surges and gracefully endured a painful fifteen-minute monologue about international maritime freight that could have easily been condensed into three words.
Eventually he found an opening to excuse himself, slipping away toward a quiet balcony alcove framed by towering glass. The sprawling lights of Seoul stretched out below the glass like a sea of diamonds. The heavy jazz music faded into soft background noise.
Jimin let out a long quiet breath and relaxing his shoulders. He adjusted his suit jacket before his gaze drifted toward his own reflection in the spotless glass panel. He tilted his head slightly to the left admiring his jawline.
“Not bad.” he murmured quietly to himself.
The lighting in this venue deserved a promotion. It was doing incredible work. His blond hair was falling in soft perfect waves and his white jacket remained immaculate despite nearly an hour of tedious networking. He’d survived forty minutes of shipping container talk without a single hair falling out of place, which was a genuine victory
He offered his reflection a faint amused smile, leaning in slightly to check if his eye makeup had smudged during the maritime freight lecture. “Some people really are born lucky.”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Jimin didn't jump he was far too refined for that but his hand froze mid-air inches from fixing a stray lock of hair. He glanced in the reflection to see Jungkook standing a polite two steps behind him carrying a small napkin with two tiny, skewered olives on it.
“The chairman from Mirae Steel requested a word but I informed him you were currently engaged.”
”I was.” Jimin said smoothly dropping his hand and turning toward the mirror again as if he hadn't just been admiring his own jawline for three minutes straight. “With someone extremely important.”
Jungkook glanced at the mirror then down at the olives in his hand his jaw twitching slightly as he fought back what looked suspiciously like a real smirk.
”I can see that.” Jungkook replied smoothly popping one of the olives into his own mouth.
Jimin whipped around glaring with zero actual malice. “Secretary Jeon, did you just eat my garnish?”
“You don't eat olives Vice Chairman.”
“That is beside the point.” It was about the sheer cheekiness of a secretary eating off his boss's plate with a completely straight face.
A comfortable silence settled between them in the quiet alcove. The loud and suffocating pressure of the gala seemed to melt away the second it was just the two of them standing in the corner.
Jimin stared at his reflection for a moment longer before waving a slender hand vaguely toward the glass.
“Well?”
Jungkook glanced at the reflection then at Jimin. “You look very nice.”
Jimin’s brows pulled together into a immediate frown. “‘Very nice?’” That was the kind of tone people used to describe a decent bowl of soup not an outfit that cost more than a secondhand car.
Jungkook paused, pretending to reconsider his evaluation. “You look excellent.”
“‘Excellent’ is acceptable.”
“I assumed you would prefer that.”
“I do.” Jimin said folding his arms across his chest. “Though I was honestly expecting something closer to extraordinary.”
“I used extraordinary at the spring gala.” the Alpha informed him and a tiny buried glint of humor in his dark eyes. “I try to avoid repeating adjectives.”
Jimin considered that carefully. “A fair point.”
Jungkook nodded once. “Shall we return to the main floor?”
Jimin took one final appreciative look at his reflection offering himself a tiny pleased smile. “…Yes it would be entirely selfish to keep the rest of the guests waiting any longer.”
Jungkook didn't miss a single second. “Of course Vice Chairman.”
And together they stepped back out into the glittering crowd one drawing every desperate eye in the room while the other quietly ensured no one ever got close enough to burn him.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
The moment the heavy door of the Maybach clicked shut sealing out the flashing cameras and muffled gala music. Jimin’s rigid posture instantly collapsed.
He let out a long unglamorous groan rolling his head back against the leather headrest. Without a shred of his Vice Chairman dignity left. He brought his hands up and unbuttoned his white jacket, kicked off his sleek leather shoes and rubbed his knuckles hard against his tired eyes smudging a trace of his carefully blended eyeshadow.
He looked less like a corporate titan now and more like a college student who had just finished a brutal five-hour final exam.
The golden lights of Seoul blurred into long shimmering ribbons across the dark tinted windows of the car as it glided effortlessly through the night traffic.
“If I had to listen to one more CEO explain how his company is ‘disrupting the market’ I was going to throw my champagne glass into the fountain.” Jimin muttered!his voice raspy from hours of polite corporate small talk.
Jimin shifted his head his dark eyes drifting from the passing city skyline to the Alpha sitting beside him. Even at nearly midnight after a brutal workday. Jungkook’s posture remained impossibly straight. His long fingers held a digital stylus moving across his tablet screen with practiced precision.
Every single movement the man made was clean and efficient, it was simply effortless.
“Secretary Jeon.”
“Yes, Vice Chairman?”
“When on earth did you learn Spanish?”
Jungkook paused and his stylus hovering an inch above the glass screen. He looked up blinking. “…I’m sorry?”
“Spanish.”
“I don’t speak Spanish.” Jungkook said his tone sounding entirely serious.
Jimin turned his body slightly on the leather seat. “You do I watched you.”
Jungkook stared at him for a second as if trying to calculate whether this was an elaborate trap. “I don’t.”
I literally watched you speaking to those foreign investors from Madrid while I was dealing with Director Han.”
Realization dawned on Jungkook’s face that made his shoulders relax slightly. “Ah.” He shook his head softly. “No I wasn’t speaking Spanish I was merely communicating.”
“That is literally called speaking.”
“It wasn’t verbal.”
Jimin stared at him expectantly waiting for an explanation.
Jungkook clicked his tablet locked and set it on his lap. “They approached our table while you were engaged with Director Han.”
“I noticed.”
“They were attempting to interrupt you.”
“Mhm.”
“So I stepped into their path and handed one of them a glass of champagne.” Jungkook explained all while holding steady eye contact.
“Yes?”
“I maintained firm, professional eye contact.”
“Yes?”
“And said ‘Excuse me.’”
Jimin stared at him for a long unblinking moment. “In Korean?”
“In Korean.”
“And they smiled?”
“They smiled.”
“And then they said something in Spanish?”
“They did.”
“And then you nodded?”
“I did.”
Jimin leaned back against his headrest blinking rapidly. “I have absolutely no idea how that worked.” It was completely unhinged. Jungkook had basically hypnotized two Spanish millionaires using nothing but drinks and aggressive politeness.
A genuine smile broke across Jungkook’s face before he could catch himself. It was small barely curving his lips but it transformed his entire expression.
The faint crinkle at the corner of his dark eyes deepened a subtle dimple pressed into his right cheek and the tiny mole sitting just beneath his bottom lip caught the passing streetlight.
Jimin’s breath hitched slightly in his throat.
Why am I looking at his face like that?
It was a terrifying realization. These were tiny physical details he should have overlooked yet lately every subtle shift in Jungkook’s expression seemed to jump out at him demanding to be noticed.
“It’s usually enough.” Jungkook offered softly breaking the silence.
“What is?” Jimin asked leaning his head back forcing his heart rate to remain steady.
“People assume communication is mostly words.”
“It isn’t?”
“Not entirely,” Jungkook said resting his hands over his tablet. “At international events context and body language do eighty percent of the work. If someone hands you a fresh drink while making polite eye contact it’s universally understood as a polite hold.”
Jimin replayed the interaction in his mind the smooth delivery the champagne and the decisive nod.
“Hm.” Jimin murmured he was quietly impressed. “And what if someone tries to flirt with you?”
Jungkook looked over his face returning to its calm neutral state. “If someone becomes overly persistent… I touch my left ear.”
“The left?” Jimin asked tilting his head. “Why the left?”
Without saying a word Jungkook lifted his left hand. Resting on his ring finger was a simple polished silver band. Jimin looked down at the ring his eyes widening slightly. “Oh they assume you’re married.”
“Usually, it eliminates awkward explanations instantly.”
Jimin leaned closer inspecting the plain silver band. “Where did you even get that? I’ve never seen you buy jewelry.”
“It was a prize.”
“…A prize?”
“From the company field day two years ago.”
A look of complete, genuine disbelief crossed Jimin’s face. “We have a company field day?”
“We do.”
“When?”
“Like every three months, there is actually one planned in two weeks”
“I have literally never attended a company field day..”
“Because you have been busy for the past ones” Jungkook pointed out dryly.
“Okay well make sure to clear me the next time, I also wanna play!.” Jimin said witt pout and then he paused looking back at the ring. “Wait You won a silver ring at a sports day? What event?”
“Tug-of-war.”
A sudden bright laugh burst from Jimin’s chest before he could suppress it. He clutched his stomach tilting his head back against the leather headrest until his blond fringe fell completely out of place.
He tried to picture his impeccably dressed stoic secretary digging his dress shoes into the mud and pulling aggressively on a giant rope for a silver ring.The visual was so hilarious he had to cover his mouth.
Tug-of-war?” Jimin wheezed wiping a tiny tear from the corner of his eye. “You? In a tailored suit? Pulling a giant dirty rope against middle-management for a twenty-dollar silver ring?”
“I took off my jacket.” Jungkook clarified calmly though the corner of his eye twitched with quiet affection as he watched Jimin struggle for air. “And we won, the accounting team stood no chance.”
As his laughter slowly faded Jimin leaned back against the plush leather looking at the alpha beside him with a rare soft warmth in his eyes. “Secretary Jeon.”
“Yes?”
“You really are an impressive person.” A heavy silence filled the back of the car.
Jungkook turned his head staring at him. “I’m sorry?”
“I said you’re impressive.”
“…I’m a little surprised.”
“Why?” Jimin frowned feeling defensively self-conscious. “I compliment people.”
“Occasionally.”
“I do it often!”
Jungkook’s expression remained perfectly smooth though his eyes softened.
“…If you say so Vice Chairman.”
“I just did.”
Jimin crossed his arms turning his face toward the window though a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’ve been working exceptionally hard lately. It’s been an exhausting quarter.” He tapped his fingers against his elbow. “I’ve decided name your reward.”
Jimin picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his trousers feeling an odd, sudden prickle of heat on the back of his neck. Complimenting people directly had never been his strong suit and standing naked in front of a mirror felt less exposed than telling Secretary Jeon he was impressive.
Jungkook opened his mouth. “Vice Chairman—”
“Anything,” Jimin cut in smoothly holding up a hand to stop him. “A performance bonus or a company vehicle upgrade name it, I refuse to let you decline.”
“It’s not that Vice Chairman.”
“I insist.”
“It’s something else.”
To cover the sudden spike of awkwardness Jimin leaned back crossing his arms and letting a mischievous theatrical smirk curl his lips.
“Don’t tell me you’re about to confess your undying love for me,” Jimin teased fluttering his dark lashes with dramatic flair. “This relationship is strictly professional Jeon, I’d hate to break your heart.” He threw out the silly joke desperate to put some distance between himself and whatever weird emotion that was bubbling up.
Jungkook didn't miss a beat his tone completely flat. “I was not planning to do that.”
“What a relief.” Jimin chuckled sinking back into his seat but growing more nervous. “So what is it?”
Jungkook lowered his gaze for a brief second watching his own hands resting on his lap before looking back up into Jimin’s eyes. His deep voice was entirely devoid of emotion, it was as steady as it had been all morning.
“Vice Chairman I think it’s time you hired a new executive secretary.”
Jimin’s smile froze his brain struggled to process the words. “Why?”
“I’d like to resign.”
The smile completely vanished from Jimin’s face. The words hung suspended in the quiet car, heavy and suffocating. The steady hum of the Maybach’s engine suddenly felt loud as it was vibrating right through the leather seats. Outside the bright lights of Seoul continued to streak past the dark glass but inside the air felt frozen.
Jimin simply stared.
For three terrifying seconds he was convinced his ears were playing a trick on him. Those words simply didn't belong in the same sentence.
He let out a short hollow laugh. “What?”
“I would like to resign from my position.” Jungkook repeated softly his gaze was steady and unblinking, entirely resolute.
“Why?”
“It is for personal reasons.”
Personal reasons.
Two terribly ordinary bureaucratic words. Countless low-level corporate employees resigned using that exact template every single month. HQ processed them without a second thought.
Yet hearing those words fall from Secretary Jeon’s mouth felt completely absurd. It felt as though someone had calmly walked into his office and announced that the sun had decided to resign from rising tomorrow morning.
Nine years.
Secretary Jeon had been standing directly beside him through hostile corporate takeovers, brutal shareholder wars the high-stakes overseas negotiations, sleepless 72-hour work weeks and all the product launches, even the personal crises.
He had been an absolute constant in Jimin’s life for so long that Jimin had completely stopped imagining a world without him.
Jimin opened his mouth to demand a real explanation, but no sound came out. He was entirely speechbound. The silence stretched between them making the atmosphere in the car thick and unbearable.
Finally Jimin heard his own voice say barely above a whisper: “I see.”
Jungkook gave a single formal nod of his head.
Neither of them spoke another word for the rest of the journey. Jimin turned his head back toward the window watching the city blur into meaningless streaks of red, white and gold. The city looked identical to how it had ten minutes ago yet somehow everything felt entirely wrong.
A tight painful knot had formed deep in his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat pressing a hand against his side hoping the weird pressure would vanish but it didn't.
Secretary Jeon is resigning.
The sentence refused to make sense it was impossible. This had to be one of those dry absurd jokes Jungkook occasionally pulled. Any second now the Alpha would let out a quiet sigh apologize for crossing a line and hand him tomorrow’s updated schedule.
Jimin waited.
Jungkook never spoke again and the rest of the drive passed in dead silence broken only by the soft purr of the engine as the car glided through the rainless night.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
The silence in Jimin’s master bedroom had become completely unbearable. He had been staring up at the white ceiling for so long his eyes were burning.
Jimin let out a muffled scream into his silk pillow kicking his legs until the heavy duvet was completely twisted around his ankles. He grabbed his silk pillow and flipped it over to the cool side and buried his face in it. The cool sensation lasted approximately twelve seconds before it too became uncomfortably warm.
“Unbelievable.” Jimin muttered into the dark room and letting out a frustrated sigh. The word hung in the humid air of his bedroom, heavy with the sheer absurdity of his sudden, ridiculous insomnia.
This was officially the longest he had stayed awake in his own bed without being trapped by an emergency board meeting. He glanced at the digital clock glowing softly on his nightstand.
2:17 A.M.
Jimin groaned softly flipping back onto his back to glare at the ceiling. Those glowing red numbers felt like a personal insult, ticking away the precious hours of his beauty sleep he was supposed to have.
Why on earth couldn't he sleep? He had negotiated multi-billion-won contracts without losing a single hour of sleep. He had publicly destroyed rival executives and slept like a baby right after. He’d watched Director Kang resign in tears after a failed hostile takeover and had gone home to enjoy an eight hour unbroken slumber. None of those things had ever kept him awake.
So why now?
He scowled into the dark.
Secretary Jeon.
“No.” he whispered aloud shutting his eyes tight. “Sleep.”
He began forcing himself to count backward from one hundred focusing on the numbers.
One hundred.
Ninety-nine.
Ninety-eight.
Somehow by the time he hit ninety-three his mind was already frantically wondering who on earth was going to remember that President Seo strictly drank high-grade green tea and would throw a subtle tantrum if served coffee.
Jimin snapped his eyes open. He sat up his blond hair sticking up in messy tufts and reached for the crystal glass of water on his nightstand. He took a gulp only to find it lukewarm and stale it made him make a disgusted face and set it down hard enough to clink against the marble. “Ridiculous.”
He was Park Jimim. H knew precisely where every emergency file or contact list and corporate strategy was archived. Everything was backed up on three secure servers. The massive Park Group was not going to collapse simply because one secretary decided to quit.
So why did it feel like the floor was giving way beneath him?
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed burying his face in his hands. “Why can’t I just sleep?” The silent room offered no comfort.
His gaze drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Seoul glittered endlessly below thousands of city lights always alive. Down there the city moved on taxis crossed wide avenues, late-night markets thrived and someone was probably drafting tomorrow’s morning news.
Secretary Jeon is probably sleeping peacefully right now, Jimin thought as his jaw tightening.
He scowled at the window.
Good for him.
Then why did that thought make his chest burn with annoyance? It was a sharp, stubborn ache—a sting of pure betrayal that refused to settle down no matter how many times he tried to brush it off.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
By the next morning Jimin had fully convinced himself that his night of severe insomnia was entirely the mattress’s fault. He made a firm mental note to have his house manager replace it immediately. A bed that expensive had absolutely no right to be that uncomfortable.
His private executive office occupied the topmost floor of Park Group headquarters surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the financial district. He stood by the glass with his hands tucked into his suit pockets watching the morning traffic crawl far below.
A soft knock sounded at the heavy mahogany door.
“Come in.” Jimin called out not bothering to turn around. He already knew the cadence of those knuckles.
The door opened and Secretary Jeon stepped inside carrying a white porcelain cup on a small saucer.
“Your morning tea Vice Chairman.”
Without asking Jungkook walked over to the massive executive desk and placing the cup down in its exact designated location. Precisely two finger-widths away from the leather blotter edge. Exactly where it had been placed every morning for nine years. The soft click of white porcelain meeting the desk sounded like a starter pistol in the quiet office.
Jimin turned slowly away from the glass and started walking toward his desk with measured steps. He sat down slowly staring at the soft curls of steam rising from the hot tea before finally lifting his eyes to look at the Alpha standing before him.
Without thinking Jimin’s right hand twitched forward and his body moving on nine years of pure muscle memory to grab the handle before he caught himself and yanked his hand back into his lap, lacing his fingers tightly together.
“Secretary Jeon.”
“Yes Vice Chairman?”
Jimin hesitated a strange and uncharacteristic lump forming in his throat. It felt ridiculously difficult to ask. “You don’t actually intend to resign do you?”
He needed to hear it stated clearly. He was still convinced there had to be an alternative explanation. People didn't just walk away from Park Group after nearly a decade and especially not Secretary Jeon. It felt administratively impossible.
Perhaps Jungkook had simply been overwhelmed yesterday. People occasionally said foolish things when exhausted.
Jimin found himself waiting and watching the alpha’s face, desperately hoping he would let out a small sigh and say. Of course not, Vice Chairman it was merely a lapse in judgment.
Jungkook looked down at him for a quiet second. Then a tiny and sad smile touched his lips. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken this time Vice Chairman.”
Jimin clicked his tongue softly leaning back. “I am rarely mistaken.”
“I know.”
“So why?” Jimin demanded while his composure was cracking slightly.
Secretary Jeon typically answered any direct question within three seconds. This silence was stretching far past that.
“Is it because you’re overworked?” Jimin pressed leaning forward over the desk his knuckles turning white as he pressed them into the dark mahogany.
Jungkook didn't answer but instead lowered the leather document binder he was holding.
“I will post the executive secretary job opening on the internal portal tomorrow morning,” Jungkook stated and his voice shifting smoothly back into pure unshakeable professionalism. “We have already drafted the requirements.”
Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together into a tight frustrated knot.
“I will review all initial applications personally.” Jungkook continued calmly.
“You will only need to conduct the final round of interviews. That should minimize any potential disruption to your schedule.”
Jimin didn't answer right away he simply sat in his high-backed leather chair while staring at his secretary.
For nine long years Secretary Jeon had answered every single question Jimin threw at him with absolute transparency. Today he hadn't answered a single one. A quiet and frustrated breath escaped Jimin’s nose.
“Do whatever you want.”
Jungkook inclined his head in a polite formal bow. “Understood.” He turned on his heel toward the double doors. “I will return before your lunch meeting with the board.”
The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind him and silence descended upon the massive office once again.
Jimin reached out and picked up his porcelain cup. He took a tiny sip and it was the perfect temperature. Not a single degree too hot just exactly the way he liked it.
Secretary Jeon still remembered precisely how hot he liked his morning tea. Yet Jimin had somehow completely failed to notice that his secretary wanted to leave him.
His gaze drifted back toward the expansive windows. Something was deeply wrong here secretary Jeon wasn't an impulsive person. No he planned his life in calculated multi month blocks. A man like that didn't wake up on a Tuesday morning and suddenly decide to resign.
There was a reason. And Jimin was going to find out what it was.
’Personal reasons’ Was simply not a good enough reason.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
Nearly an hour later Jimin stepped out of his suite.
The executive floor was significantly quieter than the rest of the building. The plush and thick carpeting swallowed the sound of his dress shoes. Only the faint hum of high-speed printers drifted from down the corridor.
As he walked past the row of administrative desks the other employees stood up quickly bowing deeply.
“Good morning, Vice Chairman.”
“Good morning,” Jimin acknowledged automatically his mind elsewhere as he stopped outside the familiar glass office situated directly beside his own.
The glass door stood partially open. Normally secretary Jeon kept it firmly shut during working hours unless an appointment was scheduled.
Jimin knocked lightly against the wooden frame before stepping inside.
Jungkook was sitting behind his neat desk his eyes fixed on his computer monitor. For once he wasn't analyzing quarterly financial spreadsheets or reviewing legal contracts.
He was smiling.
It wasn't a broad or theatrical laugh just a soft and genuine curve of his lips. The kind that suggested whatever was on his screen was genuinely amusing him.
Jimin stopped dead in his tracks and his brow furrowing. That was incredibly unusual almost at the exact same moment Jungkook registered his presence.
The smile vanished instantly wiped clean off his face. He stood up so abruptly that his ergonomic chair rolled back several inches, hitting the credenza behind him.
“Vice Chairman.” Jungkook said and his voice dropping an octave sounding almost caught?
Jimin’s sharp eyes darted between Jungkook’s tense face and the bright monitor. “Busy?”
“No” Jungkook replied quickly smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket with both hands. “Did you require something?”
Jimin nodded slowly keeping his gaze locked on him. “I’m heading down to President Kim’s office. Cancel the video conference with Hansung Logistics.”
“I will inform their executive team immediately.”
“And” Jimin paused clearing his throat. “I have a private dinner with my parents tonight.”
Jungkook gave a single firm nod. “I have already arranged your transport.”
Of course he has.
Jimin was beginning to suspect Secretary Jeon confirmed events with the universe before time itself had fully decided they were happening.
“Right.” Jimin muttered straightening his cuffs. “So you can leave early after standard hours.”
Jungkook blinked once and a subtle flicker of confusion crossing his dark eyes. “Thank you, Vice Chairman.”
“There isn't much point in you waiting around the building for me tonight.”
“I understand.”
For a heavy lingering moment neither of them spoke. Jimin glanced casually toward the computer monitor again but the window had already been minimized to a black desktop screen. Whatever Jungkook had been looking at was gone.
“Very well,” Jimin said turning toward the door. “I will see you later.”
“Yes, Vice Chairman.”
Jimin stepped back out into the quiet corridor the door clicking shut behind him. His footsteps sounded hollow against the polished floor as he walked toward the private elevator bank.
His expression tightened with every step. Secretary Jeon was acting undeniably weird. Smiling secretly at his computer screen and dodging straightforward questions, resigning without a single logical explanation.
None of it added up. And if there was one thing Park Jimin despised above all else it was when something in his life refused to make sense.
Maybe I’m overthinking this? Jimin asked himself as the elevator doors opened.
No. I am thinking about this the exact right amount.
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
Jimin stepped into the room and immediately winced as his sharp right heel came down on a stray wooden garment peg lying near the rug. He kicked it aside with a scowl sniffing the air defensively.
President Kim Taehyung’s office looked completely different from Jimin’s polished sanctuary.
Where Jimin demanded absolute symmetry, spotless surfaces and clean monochromatic lines. Taehyung somehow managed to make utter chaotic disorder look like an intentional art gallery. It was an avalanche of color and texture that should have given Jimin a migraine yet somehow reflected every brilliant and unhinged corner of Taehyung’s creative brain.
Tall stacks of fashion magazines and fabric swatches balanced precariously on leather chairs. A custom titanium golf club leaned against the wall for reasons Jimin had never dared to investigate. The golf club had been a gift from someone though Jimin suspected Taehyung mostly used it to poke open the high window blinds when he felt too lazy to stand up.
And sitting on the corner of the mahogany desk was a small potted cactus wearing a tiny custom-made pair of sunglasses.
Jimin had asked about the cactus exactly once, three years ago. Taehyung had looked him dead in the eye and replied, "He gets shy under direct sunlight Jimin."
Jimin had never asked another personal question about the desk decor again. It was safer not to invite further explanations from a omega who once spent twenty minutes convincing a board of directors that a shade of chartreuse possessed a 'gentle soul.'
When Taehyung had accepted the position as President of Park Fashion three years ago Jimin had naively assumed the creative workspace would eventually adopt a respectable executive aesthetic.
Three years later and the cactus had acquired a second microscopic pair of red sunglasses it seems like.
Taehyung looked up from his laptop as the heavy double doors swung open without a warning knock. “Well.” Taehyung smiled, sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose. “This is an unexpected honor.” Taehyung’s boxy, radiant smile immediately cut through the heavy storm cloud Jimin had carried down the hallway loosening the tight coil in Jimin’s shoulders.
Jimin marched straight into the room bypassing the seating area entirely his face a storm of frustration. “We have a massive problem.”
Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “That serious?”
Jimin noticed the sleeves of Taehyung’s crisp dress shirt were rolled neatly to his forearms, revealing delicate silver bangles. A pair of stylish reading glasses rested on his nose something he only wore when he’d been staring at garment sketches for six hours straight.
Jimin dropped heavily into the plush velvet armchair opposite the desk and letting out an exhausted sigh. A comfortable faint scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the room, blended with expensive woody cologne and whatever scented candle Taehyung had decided matched 'creative inspiration' this week.
Jimin wasn't entirely convinced inspiration smelled like burnt cedar and sweet orange peel, but he had learned long ago that arguing with Taehyung's aesthetic choices yielded lengthy philosophical lectures.
Beneath the commercial room fragrances lingered Taehyung’s faint natural scent sweet white tea. It was subtle enough that the scent suppressant sitting on his neck was clearly doing its job, but present enough to feel familiar.
Being around another omega always felt subtly different for Jimin. It was less competitive and devoid of the subconscious alpha-omega power dynamics, and remarkably easy to navigate.
“There are very few things in this corporate world I cannot calculate.” Jimin declared resting a hand over his forehead. He squeezed his temples, trying to massage away the dull ache that had been building behind his eyes since 2:00 AM.
“I know” Taehyung agreed closing his laptop screen halfway.
“This” Jimin gestured aggressively in the air. “Is driving me utterly insane.”
Taehyung set his gold pen down. “What on earth happened?”
“Secretary Jeon… he wants to resign.”
Dead silence blanketed the room.
Taehyung blinked once his mind grinding to a halt. “…He what?”
“He says he wants to quit.”
Taehyung leaned back in his leather chair staring at Jimin in absolute shock. “I did not see that coming.”
“You didn’t?”
“No!”
Jimin frowned pointing a finger at him. “So you’re surprised too?” A tiny wave of relief washed over Jimin—at least he wasn't the only person in the building who found this news completely insane.
“Of course I’m surprised!”
“Good.” Jimin folded his arms across his chest letting out a breath. “I was honestly beginning to think I was the unreasonable one here.” He slumped into the velvet cushion, letting his defensive guard down for the first time all morning.
Taehyung stood up from his desk wandering over toward a antique wooden cabinet near the floor-to-ceiling windows. He crouched down pulling open the bottom drawer. Inside was an alarming and almost criminal quantity of imported Japanese candy.
“How often do you eat sugar during work hours?” Jimin asked staring at the drawer in horror. Leave it to Taehyung to treat a multi-million-won antique cabinet like a corner store candy aisle.
“Whenever someone from the finance division visits me.” Taehyung replied smoothly.
He pulled out a colorful shiny bag of sour gummies waving it toward Jimin. “Candy?”
Jimin glared at the bag as if it contained biohazardous waste. “I have been awake since two in the morning and my throat feels like sand. My primary secretary is abandoning me. I do not want a fluorescent pink worm Taehyung.” He sounded like an overworked dramatic child and they both knew it.
“It helps with stress.”
“I don’t need sugar.”
“You look like you desperately need sugar.” Taehyung’s voice softened with quiet affection, seeing right through Jimin’s prickly Vice Chairman armor.
“I need logical answers!”
Taehyung let out a dramatic sigh tossing the bag onto the glass coffee table anyway. “Suit yourself.”
Instead of returning to his desk chair Taehyung walked over and sat casually on the edge of his desk crossing his long legs.
“So” Jimin demanded, looking up at him expectantly. “Explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
“Why on earth Secretary Jeon would suddenly resign!” Jimin threw his hands up genuinely baffled by the idea that anyone would want to step out of the clockwork machine they had built together.
Taehyung stared down at him for several long painful seconds.
Then he let out a short and airy laugh it did not sound like a cruel laugh, but the kind that suggested he wasn't entirely sure whether he should comfort Jimin or laugh at his sheer blindness.
“Jimin it’s blindingly obvious.”
Jimin’s scowl deepened. “It is?” He hated being the last person in the room to understand the joke.
“Of course it is.” Taehyung pointed a finger at him. “He has worked directly for you. For nine continuous years.”
“…Correct.”
Taehyung nodded slowly placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “An Alpha who lasts nine years as your primary secretary is legally recognized as a bodhisattva in the East… and a literal saint in the West.” He delivered the line with the grand and theatrical gravity of a Shakespearean actor. The act made his bangles ring gently.
Jimin froze mid-breath. His posture went completely rigid and his manicure digging into the soft velvet armrest of the armchair so hard the fabric creaked.
“Excuse me?” Jimin whispered his tone dropping into a icy register that usually made junior executives weep. He tried to maintain his terrifying Vice Chairman glare but the affection between them ruined the effect.
And Taehyung didn't weep he simply burst out laughing while leaning his head back so far his delicate silver bangles chimed together like wind chimes. Taehyung immediately threw both hands up in mock surrender as he was laughing. “I’m joking! I’m joking!”
“You are actively insulting me.” Jimin stated though his bottom lip twitched in a microscopic pout that completely ruined his intimidating posture.
“I am simply observing you my dear Vice Chairman.”
“I have never once been a difficult boss” Jimin stated with absolute terrifying conviction.
“Jimin darling,” Taehyung sighed while wiping a tear of laughter from his cheek. “You once made him send a driver back to Gangnam at three in the morning because the ice in your mineral water wasn't spherical.”
“It melts slower!” Jimin shot back defensively crossing his legs and turning his shoulder away. “It affects the taste!” He crossed his arms like a pouting puppy entirely convinced that melted cube ice was an insult to fine dining.
Taehyung didn't push it but instead leaned back slightly against his desk absentmindedly spinning a sleek silver fountain pen between his long fingers.
Taehyung’s dark eyes drifted toward a mannequin standing near the sunlit window. It was dressed in an unfinished cream-colored wool jacket, held together by dozens of silver tailor pins.
“Give me a second,” Taehyung said softly.
Jimin watched as the taller Omega pushed himself off the desk wandering slowly toward the mannequin. “What are you doing?”
“I think much better when I pace,” Taehyung answered smoothly.
“I’ve noticed.”
Taehyung ignored the jab stopping in front of the cream jacket. He reached out and his long fingers carefully smoothing an invisible wrinkle from the shoulder line before speaking again. His touch on the fabric was reverent and tender. It was truly the touch of a man who truly poured his soul into his craft.
“When I first accepted the President position here three years ago” Taehyung began quietly. “I nearly submitted my own resignation after six months.”
Jimin’s head snapped up genuine surprise flashing across his face. “You never told me that.” Jimin felt a sudden pang in his chest the thought that his closest friend had suffered in silence right down the hall made him feel strangely small.
“No.” Taehyung smiled faintly his fingers brushing over the raw wool sleeve. “I didn’t because I was embarrassed.”
He turned slightly leaning one shoulder against the mannequin stand. Jimin folded his arms listening intently. Jimin leaned forward and completely setting aside his own ego to listen to the person he cared about.
“I loved the art of designing clothes.” Taehyung explained softly. “I hated literally everything else the endless administrative meetings or the budget spreadsheets and the corporate politics. The conservative investors telling me that brown and beige were ‘the commercial future of fashion.’”
Jimin nodded once in understanding. He knew better than anyone how much Taehyung adored vibrant colors and bold artistic risks. “Beige is rarely the future of anything.” He said out loud his voice carried a rare and genuine warmth. It was a subtle validation of Taehyung’s brilliant vision.
“For six months I didn't draw a single line.” Taehyung murmured softly his voice dropping its teasing edge. “I just sat behind that massive desk signing invoice approvals and approving textile import permits.”
He poked the pin gently into the mannequin’s shoulder and watching the fabric pucker.
“One morning I looked at my hands and realized I had ink stains on my fingers from signing contracts but no charcoal under my fingernails from sketching,” Taehyung continued, turning to look at Jimin with sad eyes. “I was clean Jimin. Completely clean and utterly miserable.”
He reached for a pair of small sharp tailoring scissors resting on the wooden worktable beside him,m turning them over thoughtfully in his palm.
Jimin sat in the velvet chair his sharp tongue completely silenced. The distant muffled thump-thump of a commercial sewing machine down the hall felt heavy in the quiet room. Jimin’s heart throbbed with a rare and quiet empathy he loved Taehyung and hearing him describe that hollow numbness made Jimin want to shield him from the world.
“I realized I’d spent so much time managing other people’s crises and dealing with corporate bureaucracythat I’d quietly stopped doing the one thing I actually loved.”
Jimin frowned struggling to map the story onto his current situation. “So?” His logical problem-solving brain scrambled to bridge the gap between Taehyung’s artistic soul and Jungkook’s relentless efficiency.
“So I wasn’t tired of fashion Jimin,” Taehyung said looking directly into his eyes. “I was empty.” The room fell completely silent again.
“What on earth does your creative burn-out have to do with Secretary Jeon?” Jimin asked and his brow furrowing. He asked softly this time devoid of his earlier irritation just genuinely trying to understand.
Taehyung placed the tailoring scissors back on the table with a soft clink. “I don’t know I’ve never been Jeon Jungkook’s boss,” Taehyung shrugged gently. “I’m simply saying that people don’t always walk away because the work is too physically difficult. Sometimes they leave because they’ve been going through the motions for so long that they can’t remember why they stayed in the first place.”
His gaze wandered back toward the sprawling city skyline beyond the glass. Jimin sat completely motionless in the velvet chair. His manicured fingers tapped once against the leather armrest before stopping.
“So you think he’s simply overworked,” Jimin summarized his sharp mind immediately hunting for an administrative fix.
“I think.” Taehyung said slowly. “That nine years is a very long time to carry someone else's entire life on your shoulders.”
He looked back at Jimin offering a soft and gentle smile. “Maybe he’s exhausted. Maybe he wants to try something new or maybe he just wants someone to notice that he’s been carrying a heavy weight all by himself.”
As Taehyung spoke about carrying heavy weights Jimin’s eyes slowly dilated. He wasn't listening to the emotional subtext—his brilliant, hyper-efficient corporate brain was already running complex diagnostic algorithms stripping away the poetry and converting it into pure actionable data.
Weight = Workload.
Nine years = Task accumulation.
Exhaustion = Insufficient administrative delegation.
A sudden, triumphant spark lit up behind Jimin’s eyes. It was so simple!
An assistant.
“An assistant.” Jimin whispered aloud pushing himself out of the chair so fast his white jacket flared around his hips.
The solution appeared so naturally that it felt painfully obvious. Secretary Jeon had been handling everything alone for nearly a decade the schedules, travel, international branches, emergency calls, and board prep.
If workload was the issue the fix was simple. He didn't need to resign he simply needed a junior assistant to handle the tedious tasks! He was practically preening with self-satisfaction utterly convinced he was about to save the day.
Taehyung paused mid-snack and a gummy worm hanging halfway out of his mouth. “What?” Taehyung stared at him completely dumbfounded by the terrifying leaps Jimin’s brain could make.
“A junior assistant!” Jimin declared pacing toward the door with an arrogant bounce in his step his posture practically glowing with restored vanity. “He’s exhausted because he’s doing low-level scheduling himself! I’ll hire him a subordinate to take the tedious tasks off his desk. Problem solved!”
Taehyung stared at him while holding the bag of gummies his jaw slowly slackening in utter disbelief. “Jimin, that is not at all what I—”
“…Good luck, Jimin.”
Jimin paused at the threshold his hand resting on the heavy metal handle,m looking back over his shoulder with an arrogant tilt of his chin.“I won’t need it.”
☾ · · · ✦ · · · ☽
A few years earlier.
The rain over Manhattan slammed sideways against the glass of the ninety-fourth-floor penthouse suite of the St. Regis blurring the neon grids of Broadway into a smeared, golden sludge.
Inside the suite smelled faintly of stale espresso and the sharp suffocating sting of irritated pear blossoms mixed with vanilla.
Jungkook stood rigid in the center of the living area. His jaw locked so tight his teeth literally throbbed. His tie was slightly loosened and his eyes were bloodshot all while he was currently listening to Park Jimin rip his soul into jagged pieces.
“Do you even read the briefs I send you or do you just print them out and stare blankly at the paper?!” Jimin shouted while he was pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor like a caged panther.
Jimin was wearing an unbuttoned silk shirt and crisp black trousers that Jungkook had chosen that morning. His blond hair disheveled and his cheeks flushed with absolute terrifying fury. He looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and utterly lethal.
He suddenly spun around pointing a sharp trembling manicured finger straight at Jungkook’s face.
“That was the Goldman merger pitch Jeon! The Goldman pitch! Do you have any idea how many months of corporate political maneuvering it took my father to secure twenty minutes with those board members?! And you pulled up the secondary fiscal draft from last month instead of the revised valuation model!”
“I pulled the exact file you requested at three in the morning Director Park” Jungkook gritted out his voice low, and shaking with mixture of exhaustion and suppressed anger. His scent patch was starting to ware off. Jimin would probably become even angrier if he smelled him now. So he was trying his best to suppress it all.
His hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides and his fingernails digging painful red crescents into his palms just to keep his hands from shaking.
“I requested the revised file! It was marked in red!” Jimin shouted and his voice cracking against the high ceilings. “How many times are we going to do this?! How many fundamental and elementary mistakes are you going to make before you actually start functioning like a secretary?! I am running an entire international expansion and I am currently being dragged down by a secretary who can’t even organize a digital drive!”
Something snapped inside Jungkook’s chest.
It wasn't a slow break it was a violent and shattering fracture. The weeks of relentless grueling pressure and the three-hour time differences. The endless flights and the sheer suffocating weight of Jimin’s perfectionism suddenly crashed over him like a tidal wave.
“Then what the hell do you want me to do?!” Jungkook roared back stepping straight into Jimin’s space. He could not help it anymore and he could smell his vanilla that was mixed with sour smell blend in to Jimin’s.
Jimin actually faltered as he was taking a tiny half-step back. His dark eyes widening in absolute shock. In the six months since Jungkook had been hired the young alpha had been nothing but silent, submissive and obedient. He had never once raised his voice.
“What do you want from me?!” Jungkook demanded his broad chest heaving violently beneath his white dress shirt. “I get two hours of sleep a night! Two! I am answering your calls at two in the morning, I am picking up your dry cleaning at five, I am translating legal contracts until seven, and then I am running behind you all day while you yell at me!”
“It is your job to handle the workload—”
“If I am so incompetent, if I am so useless, then do it yourself!” Jungkook yelled while throwing his hands up in absolute exasperation. “Do it all yourself since you’re so remarkably perfect! Have you ever made a mistake in your entire privileged and precious life President Park?! Have you?!”
Jimin’s chin snapped up his pride instantly flaring into a blinding shield. “That’s right! I don’t make mistakes! I prepare! I double-check my work! I do not fail! That is why I am the Director Park, and if you simply executed your basic duties at my standar. I wouldn’t have to scold you like a child!”
Jungkook let out a harsh disbelieving laugh while shaking his head as he stared at the older man.
God, he hated him. In that exact moment with every single fiber of his being, Jeon Jungkook utterly and completely loathed Park Jimin. He hated his flawless suits, his impossible standards, his delicate hands, and the way he could make a grown man feel like a child with a single raised eyebrow.
He was the most unbearable, self-absorbed, arrogant nightmare of a human being he had ever encountered in his entire life. A pampered and silver-spooned spoiled brat who treated human beings like disposable machinery.
“You are unbelievable.” Jungkook spat his dark eyes burning with pure venom. “You are the most insufferable, narcissistic asshole I have ever seen in my entire life. I have never ever met someone as utterly terrible as you.”
Jimin’s eyes went dark and a cold smirk touching his lips despite his flushed face. “Is that so? Well then I have terrible news for you Secretary Jeon. You are going to have to look at my terrible face for a very very long time.”
Jungkook stared at him. That little curve of Jimin's lips was like a slap across the face and it was destroying whatever tiny shred of patience Jungkook had
“Damn it, no!” Jungkook snarled ripping his leather lanyard from around his neck and throwing it violently onto the glass coffee table. “No I am quitting! I am going back to Korea on the very first flight tomorrow morning and you can find some other poor bastard to abuse! Go to hell, you absolute asshole!”
Without waiting for a response and without looking back Jungkook spun on his heel and slammed the double doors of the penthouse suite so hard the floor shook. He strode down the carpeted hallway into the elevator.
Jungkook lay flat on his back on the twin bed staring up at the ceiling his heart hammering against his ribs like a panicked animal. He was hyperventilating and his chest was rising and falling in rapid shallow hitches.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck” He whispered out loud to the empty room while throwing his arm over his face his voice cracking with sheer panic. “What did I just do? What the hell did I just do?!”
The adrenaline that had fueled his grand exit evaporated into thin air and it was leaving him cold, terrified, and completely sick to his stomach.
He couldn't quit. He couldn't afford to quit and he was completely utterly trapped. Jungkook rolled onto his side curling his broad frame inward as the brutal reality of his life slammed into him.
His grandmother’s mounting medical bills. His grandmother currently sitting in a sterile, private hospital wing in Busan, relying on the expensive daily treatments that kept her lungs functioning the mountain of soul-crushing family debt that had been dumped onto his shoulder the moment he graduated.
Park Group paid exceptionally well, in fact jimin paid him nearly triple the standard entry-level secretarial salary specifically because the job was a twenty-four-hour nightmare. That money was the only thing standing between his family and complete catastrophic financial ruin.
If he lost this job and if he got blacklisted by Park Group for breach of contract, his family would drown within a month. Not even the expensive car that he got when he started was enough to pay the debts. A single word from Director Park could burn his career to the ground across every corporate office in Asia before sunrise.
A hot tear slipped out of his eye soaking into the white hotel pillowcase.
He hated Jimin.
He saw him as nothing more than an icy and a heartless tyrant. A beautiful and terrifying monster wrapped in designer clothes who didn't care if Jungkook lived or died as long as the schedules were kept. But he needed him, he needed the monster’s money.
“I’m sorry halmeoni” Jungkook choked out into the dark room. Tears hot against his cheeks as he wiped his face furiously with his sleeve. “I fucked up I’m so sorry”
He was going to have to wake up at five walk back up to the penthouse and drop to his knees to beg for his job back. He would swallow every last drop of his Alpha pride. He would let Jimin insult him, degrade him, demand an apology just whatever it took.
Buzz.
The sudden vibration of his phone against the nightstand shattered the quiet room. Jungkook froze and his stomach plummeted into his shoes. Slowly with trembling fingers he reached out and picked up the device. The bright screen illuminated his tear-stained face.
It was a text message.
Mr. Park.
Jungkook held his breath bracing himself for the formal termination notice or a letter from Park Group’s legal team.
He opened the screen but was met with something else enterily.
Mr. Park:
You were right.
Jungkook blinked rubbing his wet eyes staring at the screen in complete confusion.
Mr. Park:
I was overly harsh today. The Goldman file confusion was partially my fault I updated the folder name on the cloud drive without notifying you first. I was stressed and I projected my anger onto you.
Jungkook sat up in bed his jaw was hanging slightly open as his pulse was pounding in his ears.
Mr. Park:
You work harder than anyone I have ever employed. You get very little sleep and I take it for granted. I am actually quite glad you stood up for yourself tonight. A Secretary who cannot stand his ground against me is useless to me anyway.
You do not have to quit. I am increasing your monthly housing allowance starting next quarter. Take a sleeping pill get six hours of rest. Be in my suite at 9:00 AM with two hot Americanos. We still have a merger to win.
Jungkook stared at the illuminated screen for five straight minutes and he was completely paralyzed. The harsh arrogant tyrant who had spent six months terrorizing him had apologized? Admitted a mistake? Complimented his spine, increased his allowance, and told him to rest?
A long shuddering breath escaped Jungkook’s lungs. The crushing weight on his chest instantly dissolved leaving behind a wave of profound intoxicating relief that made his entire body go limp.
He fell back onto the mattress, hugging his phone tightly against his chest, staring up at the ceiling with wide exhausted, tear-filled eyes.
“Thank you” Jungkook whispered into the dark and quiet hotel room a shaky breathless laugh escaping his lips. “Thank you…thank you”
He lay there in the quiet storm his heart steadying for the first time in weeks. Park Jimin was still an insufferable, demanding and a terrifying nightmare of a boss.
But as Jungkook closed his eyes drifting off into his first real sleep in months he realized something else, something quiet and dangerous that would anchor him to the omega for the next years.
Park Jimin was an arrogant and an impossible man but beneath the cold, impenetrable marble facade he was remarkably surprisingly fair.