Unspoken Terms

He had accused him of seduction, his words sharp and cruel in the cold light of the morning after. In a flash of stinging retaliation, Jeon Jungkook had reached into his wallet and tossed a single $1 note at the man's chest-a mocking payment for "services rendered" and a blunt critique of a performance Jungkook graded as well below average. Despite the bravado, Jungkook's body ached, his frame feeling the physical toll of the night before. Two days later, Jungkook adjusted his tie as he walked into the sleek corridors of his new workplace. He was directed toward the boardroom to begin his first day as the Personal Assistant to the President. His heart didn't just skip a beat-it stopped. Sitting at the head of the table was the man he had ridiculed: Kim Taehyung. The multi-billionaire "Devil" of the corporate world, a man whose reputation for ruthlessness was whispered about in every corner of the city. To Jungkook's immense, bone-deep relief, Taehyung remained a mask of professional indifference, pretending they were total strangers. However, the relief was short-lived. The moment Jungkook entered the private office to begin his duties, the heavy mahogany door clicked shut. Taehyung turned, his face a void of emotion, his eyes piercing through Jungkook like shards of glass. "You shall spend the rest of your life paying for the insult you threw in my face," Taehyung said, his voice as chilled as ice. "At least until I decide to tear that $1 note off my wall." Jungkook shivered, the air leaving his lungs. As if reading the panic in his mind, Taehyung stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Don't even dream of resigning," he seethed, the threat vibrating in the narrow space between them. "I will personally see to it that your name becomes toxic to every firm on this planet. And if you try to run? I'll make sure the world feels very, very small."