In the expanse of the spacious conference room, where the massive mahogany table adorned the atmosphere with an elegance worthy of a grand presence, Jeon Jungkook sat majestically at the head of the table.
The project papers gleamed in his hands, while a calm smile played on his lips, unable to hide the brilliant confidence that enveloped his person like the sun's glow.
Jeon Jungkook, that ambitious thirty-year-old, the youngest billionaire in Asia, who commanded an empire of successful companies beneath his control, was receiving his guests with composure.
Standing beside him was Byun Amalia, his loyal secretary who never left his side like his shadow, whom he had promoted to this position after her overflowing jealousy had drowned anyone who dared approach her personal kingdom—him!
Amalia, with those innocent features that hid a devilish temperament behind them, was scrutinizing the female attendees with sharp glances, like a hawk surveying its territory before swooping down, making sure no one dared to eye what she considered her personal prize.
Amidst the discussion about the future plans for the colossal project, one of the partners stood up—a bold woman with blond hair that shone like gold. She cast looks heavy with admiration toward Jeon before confidently holding out her business card to him.
"Mr. Jeon, it would be a great honor to discuss the details of this project... in private!"
she whispered in a coquettish voice, like a cat gently extending its claws.
Instantly, the fires of jealousy ignited in Amalia's hazel eyes, and she launched deadly arrows of a glare toward the woman, as if she wanted to melt her on the spot. As for him, he only displayed a broad smile, enjoying the flame of her jealousy that he intentionally stoked whenever the opportunity arose.
"Indeed, it would be delightful, my beautiful lady..."
he answered in his warm voice that melted any resistance, deliberately raising his voice just enough for Amalia to hear it clearly.
Amalia turned to him with a slowly raised eyebrow, her gaze sending a silent warning like a drawn sword. Her instinct was calling her to pounce on that blonde and tear her throat out with her teeth, but she restrained herself, while whispering a single, icy word:
"Excuse me?"
But he didn't pay attention to her warnings. Instead, he turned his face towards her in defiance, issuing his orders with deliberate coldness:
"Amalia, arrange an appointment for us after this meeting."
His words fell like heavy stones into a still pond. Her lips twitched involuntarily with a faint tremor, but she quickly hid the storm raging in her chest behind her usual mask of professional aloofness.
Then, the corners of her lips lifted into a polite smile, soft as silk, while she raised her gaze to meet his from her wide, hazel eyes—a gaze that to any onlooker would seem to belong to an angel descended among humans, not the deviless harboring unquenchable desires within.
"Certainly, Mr. Jeon..."
She answered in a voice as pure as morning dew, yet it carried within it the frost that precedes a storm.
And in what appeared to everyone as a passing, routine work interaction, her eyes—behind the veil of a serene smile—sent a final, silent warning to him, as if saying:
"You will pay for this later..."
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End.