JungKook's phone buzzed non-stop on the bedside table. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as the screen flashed with a dozen missed calls and messages. Then, it rang—Manager Hyung.
He sat up, answering. "Hyung?"
"Jungkook, turn on the new" the manager's voice was sharp. "Now. We've got a situation."
Ivory stirred beside him, blinking awake. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer—just grabbed the remote and flicked to the Korean channel. There it was.
A still of him, smiling, eating ice cream, holding her hand.
Plastered across every major outlet.
She opened her laptop. A headline caught her eye even though it was all in Hangul. But the picture? Unmistakable. Her face, half-hidden under his hoodie. His smile.
Ivory's brows furrowed as she copied the link and forwarded it to her legal team with one line:
"Get this down. Whatever it takes."
Seconds later, she received a reply from her lead lawyer:
"Understood. Starting takedown procedures. We'll also prepare a cease & desist. We'll contact KCC (Korea Communications Commission). Give us an hour."
Ivory set up a video call with her assistants and lawyer with Jake's Manager and some trustees of the company.
The manager appeared on video, pacing. "Do we release a statement? Should we hold a press conference? Say you're dating, or deny it?"
JungKook stayed quiet. Tired. Angry.
Ivory's lawyer popped into the call, calm and composed.
"Mr. Jeon," he said in English for Ivory's benefit, then smoothly in Korean, "You have three choices right now: denial, confirmation, or silence. But silence speaks volumes."
JungKook tilted his head. "Then what do you suggest?"
The lawyer's advice:
"Do not respond emotionally. Do not confirm or deny. Let our team handle the legal side. This is not an official announcement of a relationship—it's a violation of your privacy. The article contains unauthorized photography and is bordering on defamation. We'll file a complaint for invasion of privacy, especially if it was taken without consent on public streets. Let us take the first hit while you maintain your silence. Your company lawyers can follow suit."
Ivory looked at him, after having the lawyer translate in English. "You okay with that?"
He nodded. "If you're in... I'm in."
***
Ivory's hair was still damp from the shower, but she was already seated at the kitchen island—laptop open, Bluetooth in her ear, three of her most trusted virtual assistants on Zoom, and her top lawyer speaking through her tablet.
Jake watched, arms crossed, as she gracefully orchestrated a multi-front PR war like she'd done it a hundred times before.
"I want a soft sweep of the photo across all SNS platforms. Flood with images of other celebrities in similar moments. Distraction tactics. Get local influencers posting about their favorite 'celeb meet-cutes' to shift attention."
"What about the original article?" her VA asked.
"Translate it. Highlight defamatory language, unverified claims, and point out the lack of permission on the photo. Push it through the legal team. File the takedown request and CC the outlet's compliance officer. By 2 PM, I want it off their front page. Make the bitch pay. She wants the spotlight, let's burn her in it."
Jake just blinked. "You're... scary good at this."
She smirked without looking up. "I didn't run a media company at 21 for nothing."
Meanwhile, the online community is in chaos, but chaos in a good way, favoring JungKook.
#WhoIsShe trends worldwide
#JungkookDeservesPrivacy
#LetHimBreathe
#MintChocoAndMysteryGirl
Some fans are furious.
Some are crying.
Some are doing full-on FBI sleuthing trying to find her.
Others?
"He looks happy. If she did that, I'm buying her a house."
"Jungkook in a hoodie, smiling with ice cream? Let the man live."
"I ship it... even if she's a ghost. He's smiling again."
On the other side of town, a woman shooting her drama, lips on smirk as she sat on the director's chair. Her phone pinging in notifications.
Until The smile on her lips faded as notifications kept popping.
Her smug post?
Flagged for privacy violation.
Comment section turned against her.
Lawyer's email in her inbox.
"You are being served for malicious defamation and breach of privacy against Mr. Jeon Jungkook and an unnamed individual."
Her eyes widened. "He fought back?"
No. This wasn't like him.
Sayuri scoffed, tossing her phone onto the table in front as if it had burned her. "This is a joke," she muttered. "He would never do this. Not to me."
She stood and began pacing, manicured nails tapping against her phone screen as if refreshing it would change reality.
"He's just confused," she whispered to herself. "Caught up with that girl. She's nothing. A passing phase. He always comes back."
Her mind twisted the situation to fit the only narrative she could bear: that he still loved her. That this—this lawsuit, this sudden silence, this public rejection—was just a stunt. Some desperate attempt to protect his new plaything. Temporary. Shallow. Meaningless.
"He's still mine," she hissed, lips curling with sick confidence. "She's not even in his world. He'll remember that soon enough."
What she didn't know—what she refused to see—was that Jungkook hadn't lifted a single finger.
It was Ivory's team who had quietly assembled the legal artillery. Her head of security who gathered the receipts. Her PR strategist who buried the story before it spread. Her lawyers who filed the case. All with one instruction: protect him at all costs.
Ivory never bragged. Never threatened. She simply acted.
And that's what made Sayuri's blood boil.
Because while Sayuri screamed for attention... Ivory didn't have to. Power, when real, didn't shout.
It moved in silence—and crushed everything in its way.
Back at the Penthouse
The war room was closed.
Ivory sat on the plush sofa, laptop finally shut. Jake handed her a warm mug of chamomile tea, sitting beside her, their knees touching. A soft K-R&B playlist played in the background.
He looked at her, really looked—this fierce, calm woman who charged into his chaos like it was nothing.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
She smiled, sipping. "You've thanked me ten times."
"Because ten isn't enough." He leaned in. "You didn't have to do any of that."
"I know," she said. "But I wanted to."
Silence fell, warm and content. He slowly reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. She closed her eyes at the gentle touch.
Then she asked, "So what now?"
He chuckled. "Now... we rest."
Jake slid next to her on the sofa. "Are you always this... intense?"
Ivory finally looked up. "Only when someone tries to mess with my people."
He leaned closer. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
"You're safe," she smiled. "For now."
And they did. Jake pulled her in close, her head resting on his chest as he tucked a blanket over both of them. No press. No fans. No battles.
Just peace.
***
The next morning, when Jake had just finished showering, preparing to go to his company's building when a different kind of notification pinged on his phone.
JungKook opened the message, blinking at the bolded subject line:
"Official Recognition – Strategic Legal Support"
They were blown away by how Ivory's legal team handled everything.
In fact, they're restructuring their own PR and legal response team based on her blueprint.
"Please extend our gratitude to Ms. Ivory. As a token of appreciation, we've arranged a three-day Jeju Island getaway for both of you. Consider it a thank you... and a much-needed break."
Ivory, over breakfast, grinned. "A trip, huh? What's in Jeju?"
Jake smiled. "Peace. Beaches. Fresh seafood. And zero paparazzi."
"Sold."
"But before that, my friends, V and Jimin are asking if we're free for dinner tonight. Apparently, V just landed another endorsement contract and wants to celebrate whoever is available. Are you okay to join?"
Ivory smiled, "of course."
***
The low hum of conversation mixed with the gentle clinking of glasses in the ambient glow of the Seoul restaurant's private VIP lounge. The lighting was soft, casting a golden warmth over the pristine table setting, while the scent of truffle butter and aged wine drifted lazily through the room.
Ivory sat beside Jungkook, one hand resting subtly on his knee beneath the table, the other swirling a glass of deep red Merlot—from her own vineyard, no less, proudly stocked and praised by this very establishment. Her posture was graceful, her eyes quietly amused as she took in the light banter flowing between the men around the table.
"Alright," Jungkook said, lifting his glass in an almost ceremonial gesture. "Since everyone's here..." He motioned to the trio across from them. "Ivory, meet some of the hyungs I still keep around."
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Keep around? He acts like we're collectibles."
"That's Taehyung," Jungkook went on, ignoring the jab with a grin. "Also known as V. He's 2 years older than me. Very loud. Great fashion sense—questionable choices sometimes—but he means well."
"I'm literally the best dressed in this room," Taehyung muttered, flipping his hair.
"And that's Jimin," Jungkook continued, gesturing to the blonde beside him, who already had a soft smile on his face. "Same age as V. My emotional support bestie. Cries during movies."
"Only the emotional ones," Jimin defended, reaching over to nudge Ivory's wine glass with his own. "Nice to meet you. We've heard a lot about you."
"And that's Yoongi-hyung." Jungkook's voice softened just slightly, and the fondness was impossible to miss. "My favorite hyung, because he doesn't scold me even when I deserve it."
Yoongi raised his glass lazily. "I just pick my battles."
Ivory smiled. "It's a pleasure. I've heard... next to nothing about any of you."
Everyone laughed.
"She's joking," Jungkook said quickly, flushed. "She's Icelandic. It's a thing."
"Oh, we've noticed the sarcasm," Jimin laughed.
"Anyway," Jungkook went on, puffing his chest a little as he looked proudly at the woman beside him. "This is Ivory."
Ivory arched a brow. "No last name?"
"She doesn't need one," Jungkook said dramatically, making the others laugh. "She's from Iceland. She's half-Korean. She's a wine heiress, no big deal. Her wine's so good it's here tonight, which is weirdly convenient."
"Ah, nepotism," Taehyung teased.
"Hardly," Yoongi said, sipping the wine with approval. "This is very good."
"And," Jungkook added, his voice turning softer, almost reverent, "she's the kind of woman I know would survive perfectly fine without me... but she's still here. Still stuck with me."
Ivory turned to him, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Was that your idea of being romantic?"
Jake scratched his neck sheepishly. "Maybe. Did it work?"
Taehyung grinned. "You're whipped."
"He really is," Jimin confirmed.
Ivory laughed, leaning her head gently on Jake's shoulder for a brief moment before lifting her glass. "To being stuck with people who make surviving a little sweeter."
The glasses clinked.
And in that dim golden glow, under the warmth of laughter and vintage red, something unspoken passed between her and Jungkook—steady, anchored, real.
Even his friends saw it.
Taehyung was midway through an animated retelling of his most chaotic fan encounter—something about being chased through a parking garage by a girl in a full Pikachu costume who claimed she could smell his soul—when the mood shifted like a sudden draft of cold air.
The heavy glass doors to the private lounge opened without ceremony.
Sayuri walked in.
Uninvited. Dressed to steal attention. Every step calculated to echo louder than the last.
The table went still.
Jungkook's spine stiffened before she even spoke, and Ivory felt his hand twitch under the table. She tightened her hold on his knee gently—reassuring. Steady.
Sayuri didn't acknowledge anyone else. She strode right to their table and, without asking, pulled out the empty chair across from Jungkook and sat. The audacity of her presence alone was enough to make Taehyung shoot to his feet, ready to eject her with all the ferocity of a nightclub bouncer.
But before he could speak, Ivory touched his wrist with a delicate hand.
"V," she said with a calm, disarming smile. "sit."
Her voice was velvet-smooth, polite, even warm. But her eyes were glittering with something far more dangerous.
Taehyung blinked, unsure whether he'd just been politely commanded or seduced into obedience. He sat. Slowly.
"Sayuri," Ivory said, turning her attention to the woman across the table. "What a surprise. I'd love to hear what brings our... guest to this cozy dinner."
Sayuri ignored the question. Instead, she reached for the nearest wine glass—Jake's—and took a bold sip.
"Mmm," she said with an approving nod. "This is actually really good."
Jimin winced.
Yoongi smirked faintly, already sensing the incoming storm.
"Oh," Ivory said, that same smile carved delicately across her lips. "I'm glad you think so. That's mine."
Sayuri blinked. "Your glass?"
"My wine," Ivory clarified sweetly. "The vineyard. The label. The taste you just complimented."
Sayuri's lips parted slightly, caught mid-sip in more ways than one.
"I mean, really," Ivory leaned in just enough to speak softly—but it landed like a blade. "What pleasure do we owe for your company, Sayuri? It must be something important to interrupt this... exclusive reservation."
Sayuri tilted her chin defiantly. "I just wanted to see an old friend. Is that a crime now?"
Yoongi muttered under his breath, "It should be."
Ivory smiled wider. "Ah yes, old friend. "You know, it amazes me. That you almost destroyed someone's soul because you were jealous of not being the center of attention, but still manages to show up with glossy lips and a guiltless conscience."
"I—" Sayuri started, but Ivory's voice, still gentle, cut through her attempt.
"You had everything," she continued. "And you wanted more. More eyes on you. More headlines. More spotlight. And now, look at you—walking into rooms uninvited and drinking wine you don't even recognize."
Sayuri's smile cracked, venom in her voice. "You think you're special? He's just using you to feel better."
Jimin bristled. Jungkook's jaw ticked.
"If it's attention you want, don't worry. My lawyers will be in touch. That kind of spotlight, you'll be getting plenty of."
Sayuri's jaw clenched. "You think you're better than me? You think he's innocent in all this? He ruined my career!"
"No," Ivory said, voice firm. "You ruined it. With your lies. Your manipulation. Your need to gaslight him until he thought he was the problem."
Sayuri rose halfway from her seat, furious. "You don't know anything about me—"
"I know about your little NDA clause with that director," Ivory said softly, and just like that, Sayuri went dead silent.
Even Yoongi looked up sharply.
The whole table froze.
"You want to keep playing?" Ivory asked sweetly. "Because I can. But I doubt you'd want that clause...revisited."
Sayuri stood there, pale, lips trembling. She looked around—Jungkook not meeting her gaze, the others all unmoved—and in a swirl of designer perfume and bruised pride, she turned and stormed out.
Silence held the room for a heartbeat. Then—
"Damn," Taehyung whispered. "I mean, damn. She told me to sit, and I did. Like a dog."
Ivory laughed softly. "You were adorable."
"Do it again and I might bark," he said dramatically, clutching his chest. "My loyalty is yours."
That set off a fresh wave of laughter around the table. Just then, the door opened again—and in walked Kim Seokjin, pristine and unapologetically late.
He paused at the doorway, eyes following the trail of tension left behind.
"Did I just walk past an incubus in heels?"
"Yes," Yoongi deadpanned.
Seokjin sat, blinking. "Well, damn. What did I miss?"
Everything.
Then Ivory turned back to the table, nonchalant. "Well. That was a little dramatic, wasn't it?"
Taehyung let out a bark of laughter, sinking back into his seat.
"She's gonna cry in her Dior dress," Jimin muttered.
"Waste of fabric," Yoongi added.
Jungkook, still quiet, leaned toward Ivory, brushing his hand over hers under the table.
"Thank you," he murmured, voice low. "For standing up for me. That meant more than I can say."
Ivory turned to him, smiling. "Of course it did. You're stuck with me, remember?"
Jungkook looked at Ivory, stunned. His chest felt warm with awe, and maybe a little fear. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
Ivory winked. "Oh babe, don't cross that line yourself."