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[oceannote]

EMPIRE WAR - Chapter 2

Note from author: Sooo Chapther 2 is here, tbh this is my favorite one so far from the first 2 but all I can say is that the story will definitely pick up quite quick. This one is a bit of a teasing chapter XOXO YK Summary: After a bit of too much wine things can heat up even between the 2 colest people, however is it a fire that heats you up or one that leaves burn marks on your skin. Warnings: Characthers are fake and are a result of fiction, mentions of alcohol, lack of confidence. Do not copy, translate or remake the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I fumbled with my keys, the jangling noise bouncing off the walls of the hallway like an obnoxious soundtrack to my life. With a small huff of frustration, I finally managed to unlock the door, letting the crisp night air sneak in with us. Jungkook was the first to step over the threshold, tall and unbothered, like the city’s chaos couldn’t touch him. As I slammed the door shut, the sudden hush of the apartment felt almost… comforting. It was like the world had to hold its breath as we walked in.

“Make yourself at home,” I said, slipping off my shoes with a dramatic flair, the scent of cocoa already swirling in the air. “I’m making hot cocoa. You want anything else? A snack? A therapy session?”

Jungkook tossed his jacket over the armchair like it was a burden and scanned the room like he was deciding whether to buy it or burn it. His white shirt clung to his frame in a way that made it hard to focus on the room and not... well, him.

“I’m not a child, Amelia,” he smirked, leaning against the counter with that ridiculous air of confidence, yet something about his tone seemed... softer. Almost vulnerable? Who knew Jungkook could even do that.

“But I’ll try it,” he added with a shrug, making it sound like I was offering him a taste test for a Nobel Prize.

I busied myself in the kitchen, still a bit shaky from the wine—and let’s be honest, from his eyes on me. The silence was thick, only broken by the quiet whistle of the kettle as I tried to act like I wasn’t dying inside. I could feel him watching me, and for some reason, it wasn’t annoying. It was... well, let’s just say it wasn’t annoying.

“So,” he started after what felt like five eternities of silence, breaking the tension like a champ, “I still can’t get over those people tonight. They were so fake.” He rolled his eyes, his tone dripping with contempt. “Like they’ve never had to actually work for anything. Reminded me of those ridiculous banquets our parents used to drag us to in college.”

I raised an eyebrow, my hands pausing mid-whisk. “You, of all people, complaining about snobs? You practically own this city, Jungkook.”

He snorted, taking a sip of the cocoa I had literally just poured for him. “Yeah, but I’m not one of those guys who thinks a $5,000 suit makes me a person. I don’t need a Louis Vuitton coat to feel important.”

I shot him a side-eye, unamused. “You’re such a hypocrite. You know that, right?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair with that devil-may-care smile that always made my heart skip a beat. “Guess you don’t know me as well as you think.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Oh please. You’re just as much of a snob as the rest of them. You’re just better at hiding it.”

He chuckled, and I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of his real self there for a second. The one that wasn’t the perfect CEO, the one that actually seemed like he might have some feelings. “Fair. I’m not exactly humble. But they...” He waved a hand toward the city lights outside, his voice thick with disdain. “They act like they’ve never had to struggle, like the world owes them something. It’s disgusting.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. Jungkook, ranting like this? That was new. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms, my own thoughts swirling around.

“Yeah,” I murmured, my voice softer than I meant it to be, “but most of them don’t even know what it’s like to not have everything handed to them. They never had to work for what they’ve got. They have no clue what it’s like to struggle.”

He nodded slowly, the usual mask slipping just a little more. “I guess that’s true. Maybe... maybe that’s why I hate them so much.”

A thick silence settled between us, heavier than the cocoa-scented air. It was almost too comfortable—like we’d been here before, in another life. And then, like I had no control over myself, the words spilled out before I could stop them.

“You were really cruel to me, you know?” I said, quieter than I meant, but damn, it felt like I needed to say it. “I get it now, you were young, trying to be the cool guy, but you never explained yourself. You just... vanished. And I—well, I didn’t deserve that. I thought we were friends, Jungkook. You could’ve just been honest instead of pushing me away.”

He froze. I could practically see the gears grinding in his head as he processed my words. His mug hovered in mid-air, forgotten. “What?” His voice was low, almost… uncertain.

I chewed on my lip, unsure how to keep going but somehow unable to stop. “I mean... it hurt, okay? I get it now. You were caught up in your whole ‘CEO-in-training’ thing, but we used to be close. You could’ve just told me the truth. Instead of just... ditching me.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. I thought maybe he’d deflect, crack a joke like he always did. But instead, he set the mug down, his face softening in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

“It’s not an excuse,” he finally said, his voice rougher now, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t expected. “But... I had so much pressure on me back then. Taking over the company, everyone expecting me to be perfect—it was suffocating. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I guess... I pushed you away. You were everything I thought I didn’t need. But I was wrong.”

I blinked, trying to process this new side of him. “That’s... that’s fair, I guess.” I took a slow breath, feeling the weight of his words. “But it still hurt. You didn’t have to be so mean.”

“I know.” His voice dropped to a whisper, like he was confessing something that had haunted him. “I’m sorry.”

The room felt quieter then, the air between us lighter, like something had shifted. I stared at him, feeling a strange ache in my chest. “You know... we’re not so different, are we?”

He looked out at the city for a moment, before glancing back at me with a sad smile. “Yeah. More alike than I thought.”

It was nearing 4 a.m., the kind of late where the world feels like it belongs to only you. I yawned, stretching as the exhaustion hit me like a freight train. But something in me didn’t want the night to end.

“You know,” I said, my voice softer, “it’s really late. You don’t have to drive back. You could crash here if you want.”

His eyebrows shot up in pure disbelief. “I’m not crashing here, Amelia. I have a whole apartment.”

I crossed my arms, giving him a playful smirk. “Come on. It’ll take you an hour to get home, and you’re already here. Stay. Don’t be a drama queen about it.”

A long pause. Then, finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he sighed in resignation. “Fine. But only because it’s late and I’m too tired to argue.”

I grinned like I’d just won a small victory. “Good. I’m glad you agree.”

As I set up the couch for him, I caught his soft voice from behind me. “Amelia,” he called, his tone sincere. “Thanks. For tonight. It’s nice to just... not be a CEO for once.”

I turned, catching his eye, and smiled—the kind of smile that reaches deep down. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

And as I headed to my room, the sound of him settling onto the couch was oddly comforting. The weight of the day pressed against me, but for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel so alone. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I woke up to a weight that definitely wasn’t a pillow. My mind was still foggy with sleep, but something warm and heavy was draped across my waist. At first, I thought it was a dream—maybe some strange, sleep-deprived hallucination. But then it settled deeper into my side, and that’s when I realized: there was no denying it. I blinked, slow and steady, trying to shake off the remnants of my dream world, only to find a tattooed arm across me—Jungkook’s tattooed arm. His bare chest was pressed against my back, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with the awkwardness of my rapidly beating heart.

I froze. My brain scrambled to process the situation, but all I could manage was, What the hell? My heart rate jumped into overdrive. But then I realized something: he was still asleep. His body was tangled with mine in a way that was… surprisingly comfortable. Not exactly the outcome I expected when I invited him over for what I thought would be a casual night. My mind flashed back to last night—laughter, a few too many drinks, and some vague confessions. Everything was a blur, but I could feel the weight of his body beside me like it had been there for hours.

Trying to extricate myself without waking him, I shifted just a little. But that was a mistake. The second I moved, his arm tightened around me like I was the last piece of pizza in the fridge.

I froze again, panic gripping me. Don’t make it weird, Amelia. Don’t make it weird.

Jungkook, clearly not aware of the chaos he was causing, groggily lifted his head, blinking at me with the kind of confusion that only comes from being half-asleep and entangled with someone in a bed that’s definitely not his.

“Amelia?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes locked with mine, wide and baffled.

“Jungkook,” I croaked, trying to sound like I had some control over the situation, but failing miserably. “What… what are you doing?”

He looked down at the arm wrapped around me, then back at me, and it was as if the last 12 hours suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, pulling his arm away like it had just been set on fire. He shot up so fast that I thought he might take the whole bed with him. “What the hell happened last night?”

I shrugged, just as lost as he was. “I don’t know! You were on the couch, and… and now you’re here? But it’s not what it looks like, okay?”

We both sat there, staring at each other in stunned silence. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined waking up next to him. In fact, I didn’t imagine waking up next to him at all. Then, the cold reality of our situation hit us both like a freight train.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand—9:00 AM. Shit.

“Shit!” I gasped, leaping out of bed like my life depended on it. “We’re late for work!”

“Of course we are,” Jungkook muttered under his breath as he scrambled to his feet, throwing on his jacket like it was a race. “Of course we are.”

I didn’t even have time to process the fact that I was standing in my bedroom in my pajamas while Jungkook—Jungkook—was looking more disheveled than he ever had in the four years I’d known him. We were running late, and the clock was not on our side.

In a whirlwind of chaotic movement, we both started throwing clothes on. I pulled on my shoes while Jungkook wrestled with his shirt, his arms flailing like he was in a struggle with a very stubborn piece of fabric. We didn’t speak—didn’t need to. We were professionals. We could both agree that showing up late to work, on the other hand, was not something we were professionals at.

Finally, I grabbed my keys, still half-processing everything. “Ready?” I asked, my heart still pounding like I’d just run a marathon.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook grumbled, his words muffled by his shirt collar.

We rushed to the door, barely looking at each other as we both scrambled to escape the chaos of the morning. I didn’t even lock the door. Who had time for that? Not us.

Once we made it outside, I bolted for my car, Jungkook trailing behind me like a flustered puppy. We both slid into the seats, and I slammed the door shut. My hands gripped the steering wheel like it was my lifeline as I revved up the engine.

“You drive like a maniac,” Jungkook observed, his voice shifting to a much more relaxed tone as the car took off.

I shot him a quick, judgmental glance. “Says the guy who wouldn’t get out of bed on time. Who dragged who out of bed again?”

He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t even know what time it was. I swear, I don’t even remember how I ended up in your bed. But I’m guessing I didn’t exactly protest either.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t,” I said flatly. Then, because I couldn’t resist, I added, “You know, you’ve got a soft side, Jungkook. I’m starting to wonder if you’re always this charming.”

“Charming?” He shot me a look, narrowing his eyes with mock offense. “I’m a lot of things, but ‘charming’ isn’t usually one of them.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” I teased. “You’re rude, and you’ve got a serious problem with apologizing.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m good at apologizing. Just not to you.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

We fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from last night melting away as the car hummed along toward Wonder Technologies. It felt almost… natural between us now. Like we’d gone back in time, to when we were teenagers, shyly flirting in the library. That strange, familiar energy filled the space between us.

Jungkook broke the silence, his tone softer than usual. “Did you ever think we’d be doing this? I mean, after everything that happened between us… that night at the party, the rejection, you ignoring me for four years?”

I glanced at him quickly as I turned the corner. “No,” I admitted, “I didn’t think we’d be here. But then again, I didn’t think I’d be okay with having you stay over either. So… who knows?”

He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he said quietly, more to himself than to me. “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

By the time we pulled into the parking garage at Wonder Technologies, the strange, comfortable vibe between us had grown. The awkwardness had disappeared, replaced by something new. Something… maybe even a little more.

We both exchanged a look. Reality hit us like a ton of bricks. “Guess we’re here,” I said, clicking off the engine.

“Yeah. Thanks for the ride... and for last night,” Jungkook said, giving me a small, almost shy smile.

I opened the door, and as I stepped out, he surprised me by pulling me into a tight hug. It wasn’t just an “I’m sorry” or a “thanks,” it was... something more. Warm, genuine. I stood there frozen for a moment before wrapping my arms around him, inhaling the scent of him one last time before we had to face the day.

“Good luck today,” I muttered, pulling away and heading toward the building.

“You too,” he said softly, his voice carrying a new kind of sincerity.

I turned back to give him a half-smile before walking toward the entrance, only to be met with two very confused faces.

“Amelia?” Jimin called out, eyes wide with disbelief. “What… what’s going on here?” —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aurora, standing beside Jimin, mirrored his expression. Her eyes darted between me and Jungkook, who was already striding toward the exit. The tension between Jungkook and me snapped back into place, pulling tight like a rubber band. The easy, almost warm atmosphere from just moments ago evaporated, leaving only a chill in its wake.

“Uh... long story,” I muttered, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “I’ll explain later.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, skepticism practically radiating off him. Aurora just shook her head, a sly grin curling her lips.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, her tone dripping with mischief. “You two keep it together now.”

I shot them both a look, desperately trying to cling to my composure as I made my way inside. But with every step, the weight of the situation settled deeper into my bones. Maybe we weren’t as far from square one as I’d hoped.

The moment I stepped into my office, Jimin and Aurora were on me like bloodhounds. They slipped in behind me, closing the door with a soft, decisive click. Their faces held matching expressions—mischievous, curious, and utterly relentless.

“So,” Jimin began, leaning against my desk with a theatrical flourish. “What happened last night?” He waggled his eyebrows. “You and Jungkook, huh? Did you hook up?”

Aurora crossed her arms and arched a brow. “Yeah, spill. You two have been at each other’s throats for years. Now you’re, what, sharing hot cocoa and... a bed?” She let the words hang, her grin practically wicked.

I dropped my bag onto the desk, my shoulders slumping. “It’s not what it sounds like,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. “We were both drunk. I’m still not exactly sure what happened after the party. We ended up on the couch, and... one thing led to another.” I waved my hands vaguely, my explanation sounding weaker by the second. “We didn’t do anything like that. We just... ended up in the same bed.”

Their eyes widened in perfect sync.

“You expect us to believe that?” Aurora asked, disbelief etched into every syllable. “Because, Amelia, everything about this screams ‘something happened.’”

I let my head drop into my hands. “I’m serious. I barely remember how it happened. We just woke up in the same bed. No kissing. No... anything. Just two idiots reconciling as friends.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimin’s tone was pure judgment. “And you two just accidentally ended up all snuggled up. Makes total sense.”

Before I could retort, the door creaked open again. Yuna and Yoongi strolled in, their expressions a blend of curiosity and amusement.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” Yuna teased, her arms crossed. Yoongi leaned against the wall, an eyebrow raised but remaining silent, the embodiment of ‘I’m just here for the drama.’

I exhaled sharply, raking my fingers through my hair. “I’m still trying to piece it together. Jungkook and I had a drink or two, started talking about our messy history, and, I don’t know... things got weird. We realized how stupid we’d been, and before I knew it, we were hanging out. And then... in the morning, he was in my bed.”

A silence fell, thick and heavy.

“It was nothing like that,” I added quickly. “I swear. We didn’t even—”

“Wait.” Yuna held up a hand, her eyes wide. “You mean to tell me, you and Jungkook ended up in your bed, all cozy, and you’re both pretending nothing happened?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, Amelia, you’ve got to give us more than that.”

Yoongi finally spoke, his voice a dry drawl. “I gotta say, this is the best episode of ‘Amelia’s Messy Life’ yet.”

Aurora snorted, and even Jimin cracked a smile.

I buried my face in my hands, my voice muffled. “Why do I even tell you guys anything?”

“Because you love us,” Jimin said, nudging my shoulder. “And because you know we’re not letting this go.”

I peeked out from between my fingers. “I really hate you all.”

“Love you too,” they chorused, unrepentant and ready for more.

And just like that, I knew I was in for a long, long day. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoongi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. His voice was low and knowing. "If I were you, I’d pay attention. This could turn into a great story. After all, old feelings don’t die that easy, Amelia."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the door to my office burst open, the sudden noise silencing us all. Jungkook strode in, flanked by Taehyung and Nori, with Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok trailing behind. The room instantly filled with overlapping voices.

Taehyung raised his hand, a gesture of calm amid the chaos. "Hey, everyone," he started, his voice a bit shaky. "We have an announcement. Nori’s pregnant."Way to make to drop a bomb on everyone, Taehyung.

Silence crashed over us, heavy and absolute.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. "Wait, what? Pregnant? You’re actually—"

Me and Aurora exchanged a knowing look while Nori nodded, a serene smile on her lips as her hand rested on her stomach. "Yes, I'm pregnant. We just wanted to share the news with all of you."

The room erupted—cheers, gasps, questions, and laughter mingled together. Yuna rushed forward to hug Nori, while Seokjin smacked Taehyung on the back, nearly knocking him over.

"Looks like someone’s been busy," Hoseok teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Taehyung’s ears turned crimson. "Alright, alright! Keep it PG, guys."

In the midst of the celebration, I felt a prickle of heat at the back of my neck. I turned, and there it was—Jungkook’s gaze, sharp and searching. He looked at me like I was the only other person in the room. The unspoken history between us sat heavy in the air, like a brewing storm.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the strange twist in my chest. But every time I looked away, I felt his eyes on me, pulling me back.

I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but his expression held something more—worry, maybe? Regret?

I tried to blend into the excited chatter, nodding along to Aurora’s rambling about baby names, but it was no use. His presence wrapped around me, an invisible thread drawing me closer even as I fought to keep my distance.

And then, as if compelled by the same force I was struggling against, Jungkook moved. He wove through the crowd, his path direct, unwavering. Within seconds, he was at my side, his voice a murmur only I could hear.

"You okay?"

I swallowed, my throat tight. "Yeah. I’m fine."

His eyes lingered on me, dark and unreadable. "You sure?"

I nodded, more forcefully this time. "Positive."

A beat of silence passed between us, heavy and unyielding. And then, as if the universe needed a reset, Yoongi clapped his hands, breaking the moment.

"Alright, lovebirds and baby-whisperers, we’ve got work to do!" he announced, his grin sly.

Everyone chuckled, the tension evaporating as quickly as it had come. People began to peel away, returning to their tasks, the office settling back into its usual rhythm.

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze flicking to me once more before he turned to join the others. And just like that, he was gone—yet the weight of his presence remained, an echo in the air.

I exhaled, long and slow, my fingers brushing against the edge of my desk. Everything felt like it was shifting beneath my feet, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle the quake. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lunch came and went in a blur of phone calls and endless conference meetings, each one melding into the next until I felt like I was trapped in an endless loop of spreadsheets, deadlines, and snappy PowerPoint slides. By the time afternoon rolled around, I was neck-deep in a marathon of strategy sessions with department heads and project managers, juggling budgets, timelines, and forecasts like a circus performer spinning plates. As CFO, it was my job to keep everything in line, especially with my team pushing forward on new tech initiatives. Normally, I thrived in this chaos—craving the numbers, the strategy, the control. But today? Today, I felt like a puppet, mechanically going through the motions while my mind wandered far, far away.

Or more specifically... to someone else.

Jungkook.

His quiet intensity haunted me, the way his dark eyes seemed to linger on me for just a moment longer than necessary, as if he was trying to decode something in me—or maybe, just maybe, showing me something of himself. That flash of vulnerability I’d caught beneath his calm exterior had me completely off balance. And his smile? Don’t even get me started. It was like the sun breaking through clouds. Unexpected. Unsettling. Unforgettable.

A buzz from my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced down, and my heart skipped a beat.

"I’ll meet you in the garage tonight? I have your keys in my jacket from last night."

It was a simple message, a casual tone, but it sent a wave of warmth rushing through me—a reminder of how quickly we had fallen into this... routine? One night under the same roof, and now this? The thought made my fingers tingle as I typed back.

"Sounds good. I’ll be there."

I smirked at my screen, my lips curling in defiance of the little thrill that fluttered inside me. But before I could even finish basking in my own smugness, Yoongi’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“Texting Jungkook?” he drawled, peering over the top of his glasses with the kind of suspicion that could burn through walls. “After all that drama this morning? What’s really going on between you two, Amelia?”

I forced a shrug, playing it cool. “It’s nothing. Just business.”

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, giving me the side-eye like I was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all day. “Business, huh? So, are you just making heart-eye emojis in secret, or are we talking about the ‘let’s repair this broken mess’ kind of business?”

I could feel my cheeks warming, but I refused to show it. “There’s no mess. Trust me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because forty-eight hours ago, you were dodging that man like he had the plague. And now you’re practically glowing at his texts like a teenager who just got asked to prom.”

“Yoongi,” I snapped, the edge to my voice surprising even me. “What’s your problem?”

He smirked, folding his arms behind his head like he was the master of interrogation. “My problem? My problem is you, Amelia. You’re acting like you’ve completely forgotten who Jungkook is now. This isn’t the same guy who cracked lame jokes over ramen. The man you see now? He didn’t get where he is by being nice.”

The words stung more than they should have, but I swallowed the bitter taste. “I know who he is, Yoongi.”

“Do you?” He studied me with an intensity that felt almost too personal, like he was reading a book he wasn’t sure he liked. “Just… be careful.”

I shrugged, trying to shake off the weight of his concern. “It’s not that deep.”

He didn’t say anything more, but the silence between us was heavy, like the unspoken warnings were too loud to ignore.

As the workday bled into the evening, I gathered my things and made my way to the elevator, my thoughts tangled in knots of doubt and curiosity. What was happening between me and Jungkook? Was it real, or just a remnant of old memories dressed up in new circumstances?

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and I froze.

There he was. Jungkook. Leaning against the mirrored wall, looking like he had just stepped out of a runway show. His tailored suit clung to him in all the right places, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly messy, like he didn’t care but somehow knew he looked perfect. But gone was the warmth. Gone was the softness I’d seen earlier. Now, he was all business. Cold. Detached. A mask I couldn’t crack.

I stepped in, and the doors slid shut behind me with a quiet whoosh.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice low, with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

“Jungkook,” I replied, mirroring his tone, though my heart was pounding in my chest like a war drum.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out my keys, holding them out to me. “Figured you’d want these back.”

I took them, our fingers brushing ever so briefly. It was enough to send a shock through me, but Jungkook didn’t flinch. His eyes, however, stayed as distant as ever.

The elevator hummed, a soft, mechanical sound that did nothing to fill the tension thickening between us. The silence was suffocating. So I decided to break it, even if it was just with something mundane.

“So,” I began, my voice steady despite the storm inside me, “how was your day?”

“Productive,” he replied in a clipped tone, his gaze fixed somewhere above my head. “I assume yours was too.”

“It was,” I said, trying to keep things casual. “Just… a lot to think about.”

He gave a noncommittal hum, like I’d just told him I’d taken a nap for eight hours. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Think.”

His words landed like daggers, quiet but sharp. I could feel the accusation, even if it was wrapped in indifference.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my voice tight.

He turned his head to meet my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Nothing. Just that you’re always in your head. Even when you’re right here.”

The elevator slowed, the soft ding announcing our arrival at the garage. Jungkook pushed off the wall and stepped forward, but not before he threw a parting shot over his shoulder.

“Drive safe, Amelia.”

And just like that, he was gone, his footsteps echoing in the dimly lit garage like the sound of a door closing between us.

I stood there for a moment, stunned, the cold metal of my keys pressing into my palm, grounding me. Whatever warmth I’d felt earlier had evaporated, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in its place.

As I walked to my car, Jungkook’s words circled in my mind, sharp and relentless. This wasn’t the start of something new. If anything, it was a warning. A reminder of how deep the divide between us ran. And maybe, just maybe, a sign that if I wasn’t careful, I’d find myself standing on the wrong side of it.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The low hum of my car engine echoed through the silence, a soundtrack to the chaotic whirlwind that had been my life for the past 48 hours. If someone had told me two days ago that Jungkook would end up spending the night on my couch—no, scratch that, in my bed—by accident, I would’ve told them they were out of their mind. But here I was, cruising down the highway, still reeling from the fact that his scent had somehow imprinted itself into my car seats, and his arms—warm, strangely comforting—lingered in my mind like some kind of twisted ghost.

What. The. Hell.

I swear, I should’ve been driving a convertible for all the unexpected twists that were flipping my life like a pancake. Everything had changed so fast it almost felt like I was living in some weird alternate reality.

For years, I'd carried the weight of the past: his rejection, the sting of embarrassment, the ache of the silent things we'd never said. Then, in the span of one utterly chaotic night—one drunken conversation, one inexplicable moment of vulnerability—it felt like all of that had just... crumbled. Like someone had decided to tear down the fortress of our years-long rivalry, brick by brick. Was any of this real? Or was I just getting swept away in some sweetly delusional fantasy?

I felt the cold swipe of reality when my car's Bluetooth pinged with an incoming call. The name on the screen made me groan.

Hayeon.

Of course. The only person who could sniff out a fresh slice of gossip faster than a bloodhound. Taking a deep breath, I answered the phone, trying my best to sound normal, even though my mind was in a state of utter chaos.

"Hey, Hayeon," I said, hoping I didn't sound as rattled as I felt.

"FINALLY! You pick up!" she practically screeched into the phone. "I was about to send a search party! What the hell is going on with you and Jungkook?"

A small laugh escaped me—more out of sheer disbelief than humor. "I see Seokjin didn’t waste any time filling you in."

"Of course he didn’t! He came home looking way too entertained and then just casually drops, ‘Oh, Jungkook spent the night at Amelia’s,’ like it was no big deal!" She was practically vibrating through the phone now. "AMELIA. WHAT is going on?!"

I sighed, gripping the wheel like it might somehow stabilize my spinning thoughts. "Honestly? I have no idea. One minute, we’re barely tolerating each other, and the next... we’re back in the middle of our old college group. But this time, instead of throwing insults, we’re... talking. Flirting. Actually getting along. And apparently, all it took was me admitting I was still mad—and him, surprisingly, offering a real apology."

Hayeon made a disgusted noise. "Yeah, that tracks. Men are so simple sometimes. One apology, and boom—instant emotional breakthrough."

I chuckled, but my chest felt tight. "It’s just... it’s weird, Hayeon. For so long, I thought we hated each other—that he was just this rude, entitled jerk. But now? I don’t know. It feels like something’s shifted, but I can't tell if it’s real, or if we’re just drunk on nostalgia and bad decisions."

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, this time in a more serious tone. "Listen, Amelia. I hate to sound paranoid, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

A chill ran through me. "What do you mean? You sound like Yoongi, he was giving me the same ‘be careful’ lecture a few hours ago."

"Well, maybe you should listen," she urged. "You and Jungkook have a complicated history. Things don’t just resolve themselves overnight. Plus, he's not exactly known for being... predictable." Her voice dropped an octave, as if she'd just caught a glimpse of something dangerous. "There’s something in the air, and I can't quite put my finger on it. Just promise me you'll be careful."

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. Hayeon had always been the one to sense trouble before it even showed up—like a weathered sailor who could read the ocean’s mood. Ever since she became a mom, her instincts had become too sharp for comfort.

I tried to laugh it off, but it sounded forced. "It’s probably nothing," I said, though I wasn’t sure if I was convincing her or myself.

"Maybe," she said, her voice still tinged with uncertainty. "But when I get a feeling about something, I’m usually right. And if there's one thing I know for sure, it’s that Jungkook isn’t the type to change overnight. Especially not when it comes to his feelings. When he wants something, he goes after it—whether you're on board or not."

Her words hit me harder than I expected.

I swallowed, trying to shake off the knot that had suddenly formed in my throat. "So... you think I should keep my guard up?"

"Exactly," she said, her tone firm. "I’m not saying he’s up to something, but just because he’s acting differently now doesn't mean all the old wounds have healed. And the last thing I want is for you to get hurt again."

A lump formed in my throat, and for a second, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. "I appreciate it, Hayeon. Really."

"I mean it," she insisted. "If there’s even the smallest chance this is just some temporary thrill for him—if he’s only intrigued by the ‘new’ Amelia—you need to protect yourself."

Her words lingered, hanging in the air long after we hung up. They felt like a warning bell, tolling in my ears as I made my way to my apartment.

As I parked my car, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Hayeon was right. Everything about this felt too sudden. Too easy. Too perfect.

I stepped out of my car, and the weight of her warning seemed to press down on me with every step I took toward my apartment. She’d planted a seed of doubt, and now, it was growing, twisting inside me.

Because if there was one promise I’d made to myself, it was that Jungkook would never, ever see my honest feelings again. And yet, with the way things were going...

I wasn’t so sure how much longer I could keep that promise.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The soft, rhythmic beeping of my alarm dragged me out of the fragile remnants of sleep. I groaned, my hand snaking out from beneath the covers, fingers fumbling to silence it. Wednesday. Another day as the CFO of Wonder Technologies. Another day pretending my life wasn’t slowly unraveling, thread by delicate thread.

I turned onto my side, my pulse quickening with a hope I wished I could smother. Would Jungkook still be there?

Of course not.

The other side of the bed was a canvas of untouched white. The sheets were cool, unwrinkled—no tattooed arm draped over my waist, no slow, steady breathing to tether me to a softer reality. Just silence. And my own traitorous thoughts.

I sat up, the motion too quick, too sharp. I raked a hand through my hair, nails grazing my scalp as if I could scratch out the ghost of him. Get a grip, Amelia. One night. That was all it had been. One night of accidental intimacy, of softened edges and whispered truths. One night of comfort—not a promise.

I forced myself through the motions of getting ready, but Hayeon’s words from last night slithered through the cracks in my composure. She was right—this was too easy, too sudden. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up repeating my biggest mistake: letting Jungkook get under my skin.

And this time, it wouldn’t just be my pride on the line. I was the CFO now. People loved nothing more than to spin stories about me. The last thing I needed was to hand them a scandal on a silver platter, all because I couldn’t separate business from the battlefield of my heart.

I cannot afford to fuck this up again.

I slipped into the driver’s seat, the leather cold against my back. My phone buzzed on the console, screen lighting up with a name that had become both a thrill and a threat.

Jeon Jungkook.

For a moment, I just stared. Then, before I could overthink it, I answered. “Morning.”

His voice hit me like ice water, sharp and all business. “We need to discuss the upcoming collaboration between KK Electronics and Wonder Technologies. There’s a problem with the supply chain logistics, and I need to know how flexible you are with shifting deadlines.”

I blinked. No greeting, no warmth—just pure CEO-mode Jungkook. “Good morning to you too,” I said dryly as I pulled out of the parking lot. “I assume this can’t wait until our 10 a.m. meeting?”

“No.” His tone was clipped. “I just got the report, and it’s a mess. If we don’t adjust now, the delay will push back production by at least two months.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel. “Alright. Send me the details, and I’ll have my team analyze the impact on our end.”

A pause. “I already did.”

Of course, he did. “Naturally.”

Silence hung between us, taut and unsettling. He was too controlled, too... distant. Last night, we had left things in a space that felt almost safe. Now, he sounded like he was building walls brick by brick, shoving us back to square one.

“Jungkook,” I said, my voice softer, “what’s wrong?”

Silence. Then, a slow, deliberate exhale. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

A bitter scoff. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” I let the quiet draw him in, resisting the urge to fill it. Finally, he broke.

“I need a vacation.”

The admission hung in the air, raw and startling. “Excuse me?”

“I’m tired, Amelia.” His voice cracked, a fracture in the polished facade. “I haven’t taken a proper break in years. Everything is work—meetings, deadlines. This morning, I woke up and felt like I just—” He cut himself off, the weight of unspoken words settling over us. “Never mind.”

Something inside me twisted. Jungkook had always been relentless, the kind of man who would burn down his own kingdom if it meant keeping the throne. Hearing him admit to exhaustion felt... vulnerable. Frighteningly so.

“You should take one,” I said, keeping my voice gentle. “A real one. Not a work trip you pretend is a vacation.”

He let out a hollow laugh. “Easier said than done.”

“You’re the CEO. Who’s going to stop you?”

Another pause. When he spoke again, his voice was a shade darker. “Myself.”

I swallowed, turning onto the main road. “Jungkook, you run a billion-dollar company. If you burn out, who’s going to pick up the pieces? You’re human, not a machine.”

“Tell that to my board members,” he muttered, and for a moment, he sounded lost.

“Your board members answer to you. Not the other way around.” My voice grew firm. “You need to set the example. If you want time off, take it. The world won’t end.”

“It might.” His voice was thin, a string pulled too tight. “And what if I don’t want to come back?”

My breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“What if I want to run?” His voice was barely a whisper. “From all of it. The pressure. The expectations. The guilt.”

“Guilt?” The word slipped out, tangled with confusion and fear. “Jungkook, what are you talking about?”

He hesitated, the line crackling with silence. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No.” My grip on the wheel tightened. “You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and walk away. Talk to me.”

“I can’t.” His voice broke, and the sound was a jagged edge against my heart. “Because if I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

I felt it then—the truth hovering just beyond my reach, a shadow in the corner of the room. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

His breath shuddered through the line. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not. But it’s worth it.”

Another beat of silence. When he spoke again, his voice was a fragile thread. “I’m scared, Amelia.”

It was the softest confession. The most dangerous one.

I swallowed the ache in my throat. “Then let me be brave for you.”

The silence stretched, a chasm between us. And then, like a whisper in the dark, he said, “I wish I could.”

Before I could respond, the line went dead. The cold, empty silence swallowed me whole.

Jungkook wasn’t just exhausted. He was unraveling. And for the first time, I was terrified I might not catch him before he fell. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By the time the 10 a.m. meeting with KK Electronics rolled around, I was composed—or at least, I wore the mask well. The boardroom was a symphony of clinking coffee cups and murmured strategies, but my focus wavered, pulled taut by something just out of reach.

Namjoon.

Every time I glanced up from my notes, his gaze was already on me. He wasn’t even pretending to be subtle, his eyes tracing the curve of my jaw, the dip of my collarbone, the rhythm of my fingers tapping a silent beat against the table. There was a weight to his stare, a quiet intensity that prickled beneath my skin.

But what unsettled me more was the shadow of Jungkook’s reaction.

I felt it before I saw it—the sharp cut of his posture, the way his knuckles blanched as he gripped his pen. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the smooth line of his skin. But just as quickly as the storm gathered, he smoothed it over, his expression folding into an immaculate mask of indifference. If I hadn’t known him so well, I might have missed it.

But I did know him.

And I knew this was bothering him.

The meeting dragged on, each minute pulling me further into the undertow of mixed signals and half-formed suspicions. By the time it finally wrapped up, I felt like a live wire, raw and frayed. The group moved as a herd toward the KK Electronics cafeteria for lunch, but I hung back, sensing the fissures beneath the polished surface.

Namjoon’s gaze was a constant hum against my senses, but Jungkook remained in the periphery—silent, watchful, a dark silhouette at the edge of the frame.

The cafeteria buzzed with life as we settled in. Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon surrounded the table, their conversation drifting towards their partners.

“You know,” Jimin started, leaning back with a lazy grin, “I’ve come to realize Yuna can get me to do anything if she just looks at me long enough.”

Taehyung snorted. “Weak. Nori doesn’t even have to look at me. She just says my name in that tone, and suddenly I’m agreeing to things I swore I’d never do.”

Seokjin grinned. “Welcome to married life, gentlemen.”

Yoongi shook his head. “Pathetic. You guys need to stand your ground.”

Hoseok raised a brow. “And what about when Aurora tells you to do something?”

Yoongi hesitated, then took a calculated bite of his food. “That’s different.”

Laughter rippled around the table, and I let it wash over me, offering a momentary refuge. But just as the warmth of camaraderie began to settle, my phone buzzed against the table.

Dad.

I muttered an apology and slipped into the hallway, the cool air a reprieve from the crowded space. My dad’s voice filtered through the line, a mix of stoic advice and probing questions. I answered on autopilot, my mind half in the conversation, half on the meeting I’d just left.

Movement at the corner of my eye pulled me back. Namjoon, his long strides bringing him closer. By the time I hung up, he was already there, a quiet, solid presence.

“Hey,” I managed, offering a small, uncertain smile.

Namjoon had always been the kind of man whose quiet confidence drew people in. His gentleness was a balm, a contrast to the sharp edges of corporate life. And that smile of his—soft, genuine—was a rare thing in a world where most expressions were carefully constructed masks.

“Hi, Amelia.” His voice was warm, a low hum that seemed to settle beneath my skin. “How are you holding up?”

I shrugged, the weight of the morning pressing down. “I’m managing. What about you?”

“I was actually on my way to the bathroom,” he said, lips curling into a half-smile. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed to run into you.”

A laugh slipped free before I could stop it. “Is that your idea of a pick-up line?”

He leaned against the wall, close enough that I could catch the faintest trace of his cologne. “Depends. Is it working?”

The space between us seemed to narrow, an invisible thread drawing us closer. His presence was easy, unforced—a quiet offer of comfort I hadn’t realized I needed.

But then, a sharp cough fractured the moment.

We turned as one, and there stood Jungkook at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His expression was a study in casual disinterest, but his eyes... His eyes were storms barely held at bay.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, voice a shade too light, too sharp.

Heat crept up my neck. “No, we were just—”

“Talking,” Namjoon finished, his tone steady, almost challenging.

Jungkook’s lips curved, but there was no real humor there. “Good. Wouldn’t want to keep you from anything... important.”

His words hung between us, an echo of something unspoken. And as his gaze slid from Namjoon to me, I felt it—the weight of a question neither of us was ready to answer.

[oceannote]

EMPIRE WAR - Chapter 1

Note from author: OMGGGGG first chapter is here, I am so excited for your guys to read through this. I really do enjoy the whole process of discovering the characters as we go into it the story. The writing style is mostly from the first main person point of view, so we can experience things in a more raw and authentic way. HOPE YOU WILL ENJOY LOVELIES XoXo YK Summary: Living the life as a corporate CFO is never easy but for Amelia things can go from 1 to 100 real quick when drunk confessions turn into sentimental revelations to pregnancy announcements and old crushes brought to life. Warnings: Characthers are fake and are a result of fiction, mentions of bullying and lack of self confidence. Do not copy, translate or remake story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My favorite part of any workday is stepping through the oversized glass doors of the Wonder Technologies building and peeling out of the parking lot, blasting my favorite girly podcasts in the car my dad paid off. But it’s 6:30 AM on a gloomy Monday, and instead of freedom, I’m staring down the barrel of another workweek. A few stubborn rays of sunlight stab at my eyes, making me question every life choice that led me to this corporate hellscape.

I squint at the ceiling, silently cursing my past self for leaving the blinds open. My slippers are half-buried under a pile of rejected outfits from last week—evidence of my endless battle against business casual. I shuffle to the bathroom, too tired to bother with the lights, and start my morning routine in zombie mode.

Mondays at Wonder Technologies are like opening Pandora’s box, if Pandora were an overworked CFO with a caffeine dependency. Every catastrophe that could possibly ignite over the weekend is waiting for me at the office. Because, naturally, the moment I proved myself competent enough to my dad, Thomas, to take on the CFO role, he decided to “step back” and “enjoy life.” Translation: He bailed, leaving me to juggle the flaming swords of corporate chaos. And since he didn’t want the word “nepotism” whispered behind our backs, he kept me at CFO instead of CEO—just enough to appease the critics but still put me squarely in the hot seat.

I throw on black suit trousers, a cropped blazer, and a fitted black top, trying to channel “intimidating boss” energy. I dig through my closet until I find my white Jimmy Choos—the kind of shoes that say, “I’m professional,” but also, “My dad’s AMEX cries itself to sleep.”

Just as I pop a coffee pod into the machine, my phone buzzes. Nori. Right on schedule for her Monday morning TED Talk.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this ungodly early call, Miss Kim Nori?” I say, already rummaging through the fridge for a breakfast that doesn’t exist.

“Okay, so I’m driving to the clinic, and I just had the best idea ever. But I need your input.” Her voice is barely audible over the symphony of car horns. Nori’s idea of a morning commute is apparently a Fast & Furious audition.

“Can we have a calm conversation just once, or is that against your religion?”

“Amelia, focus. It’s about the launch party for my new laser device. I need you there for extra publicity.”

Ah, yes. I see where this is going. Nori, married to Taehyung—aka Jungkook’s best friend—owns a skincare line and clinic, partially funded by KK Electronics. A lovely wedding gift from Jeon Jungkook himself. What she’s asking for isn’t a cute little photo op. No, this is Kim Nori we’re talking about. She wants me at a 300-person extravaganza at a hotel so luxurious even the toilets probably have a college degree. And, of course, standing side by side with my long-time friend turned nemesis.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather spoon-feed Yoongi ghost pepper hot sauce while he’s asleep.”

Nori lets out a sigh that could probably be heard from space. “Amelia, you need to bury the hatchet with Jungkook. It’s mostly one-sided, you know. The man doesn’t even realize you still hold a grudge.”

“That’s because he’s too busy running his empire, buying clinics, and ruining my mornings with his exaggerated requests.”

As I shut my garage door and slide into my car, Nori shifts into therapist mode. She’s convinced that my getting along with Jungkook is the final piece in our friend group’s puzzle, as if a group hug and a few awkward selfies could solve years of resentment.

“Look, I love you, but I don’t have time for this. I’ll send someone to take photos, but I’m not standing in the same room as that man and pretending we’re characters in a cheesy holiday movie. Plus, I am not even an investor for the party.”

Finally, a moment of silence. I pull into the office garage, ready to face the day. But the universe has other plans. Someone knocks on my window, making me nearly drop my phone.

“What the hell?!” I snap, only to see Jimin grinning at me, his hand extended like some knight of chivalry.

“Just being a gentleman to the best boss in the world,” he says, that mischievous glint in his eye.

Jimin is a sweetheart—at least at work. Outside the office, he’s still Jungkook’s best friend, which is like being friends with both the angel on your shoulder and the devil whispering bad ideas into your ear. How did he land a job at my company? Well, they say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. My dad offered him a sweet deal and slapped an ironclad NDA on it, securing not just Jimin’s talents but also his Rolodex of powerful business contacts.

We walk toward the elevator, his stare practically drilling into my back.

“What?” I sigh. “You’re looking at me like I’m a KPI board you need to analyze.”

“Jungkook is here,” he says, and my finger nearly jams the elevator button through the panel.

“Excuse me?”

I see Jungkook enough—more than enough, actually. But always in formal settings where I can fake smile, deliver a handshake, and flee before my sanity evaporates. Never on a random Monday morning. And definitely not without a heads-up from one of his meticulously styled assistants.

“He’s here to talk about the Mediline event. Taehyung practically begged him to coordinate it with you. So if I may ask, please just do not create a scene this early on a Monday morning.”

Of course. Tell Nori no, and she calls in the big guns. This is why the word “no” doesn’t exist in her dictionary.

“Jimin, I’m begging you—please go instead. I’ll bribe you. I’ll buy you lunch. I’ll cover for you if you accidentally set the break room microwave on fire again. ”

But before I can finish, I hear it. That chuckle. The one that still makes my skin crawl.

Jungkook steps into view, all perfectly tailored suit and infuriating confidence. “Good morning, Amelia. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

And just like that, my Monday officially descends into chaos.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Such an emotional plea from someone with so much power,” Jungkook drawls, lounging in front of the open elevator doors like this is a soap opera and he's the villain with perfect hair. “Easy, Amelia. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had personal biases against your employees. Wouldn’t want that to trickle down to HR, would we?”

“You can kiss my ass,” I mutter, brushing past him toward my office. Jimin hurries after me, his eyes wide like he’s just seen a live grenade.

Of course, Jungkook follows us in, dragging his signature smugness behind him like a designer coat.

“I know I have no right to be here,” he starts.

“Yes, Jungkook, you don’t,” I snap, yanking open a drawer just to slam it shut again for dramatic effect. “Especially unattended on my floor. How do I know you haven’t been snooping for confidential information?”

He leans against my desk, all infuriatingly casual. “Unless you’ve got nudes stashed in there, I doubt there’s anything of value for me.”

The audacity. I nearly knock over my stapler with sheer rage.

“To save us both time, let’s cut to the chase—I’m not going to the event with you.”

“Yes, you are.”

The sheer arrogance makes my blood pressure spike. I march to the door, throwing it open so hard it bounces off the wall. “Always a pleasure, Jungkook. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he nods at Jimin, who gives me a sheepish look before slipping out and—oh, did he just wink at Jungkook? Traitor.

“Why do we always have these petty arguments?” Jungkook asks, his voice adopting that faux-soft tone that makes me want to throw something. “Aren’t we better than this? We’ve been friends for so long, yet every year, you’re more confusing than the last season of a mystery show.”

“Oh, shut up. You sound just like my dad.”

He chuckles, and for a brief, horrifying second, it almost sounds genuine. “Taehyung and Nori really want you there. It’s important to them.”

“I see her every week. I’ll pass.”

Jungkook’s expression hardens, the playfulness draining out of him. “For fuck’s sake, Amelia, Nori is pregnant. She wants to announce it tonight, and she’d like if her freaking best friend would be there.”

The room plunges into silence. My mind stutters to a halt.

“You’re lying. How would you know out of all the people in the world.”

“I swear.” His tone is deadly serious. “Taehyung told me because he knew I needed a good ass excuse to go as well. Nori doesn’t even know I’m telling you so please keep the element of surprise for her.”

A knot forms in my throat. Nori—pregnant? And Jungkook, of all people, knew before me? Before coffee, before 10 a.m.? That’s practically a war crime.

He tilts his head, his voice softer now. “So, can I pick you up at six?”

I hesitate, my grip on the desk turning my knuckles white. My computer screen is still blank, reflecting my own bewildered expression. “I’ll drive myself. I won’t stay long.”

He smirks, victory written all over his annoyingly perfect face. “Suit yourself, Miss Richardson. But be on time.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and walks out, leaving me breathless—and, unfortunately, with nothing to throw at his retreating back.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The fact that he had the absolute nerve to waltz in here and boss you around like you’re not his best friend is wild to me,” I say to Jimin, my mouth half full of fries. “What are you, his minion from nine to five and his bro from five to nine? Does he hand you a friendship bracelet when the workday’s over?”

Jimin, Yuna, Yoongi, and Aurora always invade my office for lunch. It’s our daily debrief session—a sacred ritual of spilling tea and dragging our coworkers through the mud. By “debrief,” I mostly mean Jimin, Aurora, and me talking enough smack to fill a reality show while Yuna and Yoongi play our silent, judgmental Greek chorus.

“It’s not that deep, Amelia,” Jimin mumbles, his voice muffled by a mouthful of burger. Yuna, ever the caretaker, plucks breadcrumbs off his white shirt like he’s her overgrown child. “We’ve known each other for over ten years. It’s just a little power play now and then.”

“Oh, so Mr. Jeon will be chauffeuring you around tonight?” Aurora wiggles her eyebrows at me. Yoongi, who is apparently paid by the universe to witness my embarrassment, snorts into his drink.

“Babe, the only way Amelia’s getting in his car is if she’s blackout drunk and wants to take things up a notch again.” Yoongi smirks. “Or did the tides shift? Are we into Jungkook now?”

“Eat your burger and shut up, Yoongi,” Jimin snaps, launching his napkin at him. Yoongi dodges it, still grinning like a menace.

Unfortunately for me, my tragic confession to Jungkook isn’t just old news—it’s an entire historical exhibit. Alcohol betrayed me that night, and now everyone knows. Worse, it’s also no secret that ever since I survived the hormonal apocalypse of college, Jungkook’s been staring at me a little too long for just a friend. Which means conversations like this are basically open season for sly remarks.

“Wow, love the unwavering support during my lunch break,” I say, pushing back my chair. “But if you’d all like to keep getting your fat paychecks, I need to get back to work.”

The four of them shuffle out, but I catch Aurora lingering by the door, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“You okay?” she asks. “You look like you just swallowed a state secret.”

I laugh, mostly because she sees right through me. The five of us are practically a family, but Aurora? She’s like the overly observant mom who always knows when you’re hiding something. Keeping a secret from her is like trying to smuggle a giraffe through airport security.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, bracing for impact. “I shouldn't be telling you this because I am not even supposed to know but, Nori’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re lying.” Then, louder, “You’re LYING! When did this happen?”

“Jungkook told me,” I say, exhaling. “And our best friend—the same woman who swore she wouldn’t have kids until she was forty-five and had Botox strong enough to paralyze a bear—is having a baby.”

Aurora blinks. “And how does Jungkook know this before the rest of us?”

“Taehyung’s big mouth.”

Her stare turns sharp, and I know exactly where this is going. She’s about to turn this into one of her epic, twisted love stories where Jungkook and I are destined to be together. She always does. She’s the captain of the S.S. Jungkook-and-Amelia, sailing straight into the storm of my love life.

The sad truth? Twenty-two-year-old Amelia would’ve bought a first-class ticket on that ship. She would’ve cried into Aurora’s shoulder, dreamed of Jungkook showing up at her door with a bouquet and a speech straight out of a rom-com.

But now? Now I’m older, wiser, and painfully aware that life is not a K-drama. The only change between me and Jungkook is that I’ve gone from avoiding him out of sheer embarrassment to tolerating his presence in board meetings. I smile for company photos, act civil, and pretend my feelings were just a college glitch.

Other than that? Nothing’s changed.

He’s still a stone-cold workaholic with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

And I’m still a sarcastic, emotionally constipated woman who treats banter like it’s full-body armor.

Aurora tilts her head, her expression gentle but dangerous. “You never know. Look at Nori—she never wanted kids, and now she’s expecting. I never thought I’d end up dating Yoongi. And you and Jung—”

“Abort mission, Aurora.” I groan. “I get it. I’ll go to that event with him, I’ll smile for the cameras, and then I’ll go home and rewatch bad reality TV until my faith in humanity is fully destroyed.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, but I hold up a hand.

“Just because our best friend got knocked up doesn’t mean the universe is shifting backwards, Aurora.”

But as I say it, I can’t help but wonder.

Or does it?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The only sound in the garage is the rhythmic clack of my heels against the cement—soothing yet eerily unsettling at the same time. With my eyes glued to Instagram, mindlessly scrolling, I completely miss the muscular figure leaning against my sleek black BMW, waiting patiently for me to acknowledge him.

That is, until I finally look up—and nearly jump out of my skin. My binder goes flying, scattering papers everywhere.

“What the hell, Jungkook? I thought you were some kind of creep!” I snap, clutching my chest as if that’ll stop my heart from hammering.

He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he casually bends down, gathering my scattered files, looking completely unbothered. “Maybe if you took your eyes off that damn phone once in a while, this wouldn’t happen.” He hands me the files, his gaze dropping pointedly to my car keys. “Come on, let’s go. Traffic’s insane at this hour.”

“I told you—I’m driving myself. That means I take my car, and you take yours.” I unlock the car, brushing past him to slide into the driver’s seat. I fully expect that by the time I start the engine, he’ll be out of my sight.

Oh, how wrong I am.

Just as I buckle my seatbelt, the passenger-side door swings open, and Jungkook slides in, bringing with him the intoxicating scent of his musky cologne.

“I usually drive, but I don’t mind being chauffeured for a change, Miss Richardson.” He smirks as he fastens his seatbelt, eyes dancing with amusement.

I exhale sharply. “Are we really doing this right now? Like, really, Jungkook?” My tone is as annoyed as I want him to perceive it, but his next move throws me completely off balance.

Without hesitation, he reaches over, starts my car, and—while still in the passenger seat—puts it in reverse, backing us out of the parking spot.

“You know,” he muses, completely unfazed, “I’d be happy to drive for you, but unless we swap seats or you sit in my lap, this isn’t gonna work, Amelia.” His voice drops just slightly at the end, my name rolling off his tongue with deliberate ease.

I mentally curse myself for the way my body shivers at the smallest things he does.

I force my focus back on the road. “So, Jungkook, anything else I should be aware of before we get there? Any new babies, any deaths, any weddings? Since you seem to have the inside scoop on my friends these days.”

“Said friend is married to my best friend, Amelia.” Touché, Jeon.

“I just never expected to hear about this pregnancy from you, that’s all.” I try to keep my eyes on the road, but I can’t resist sneaking a glance at him.

“I get that,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “But it wasn’t personal, Amelia. You’re my friend. I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

A loud, sarcastic laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. His brows knit together.

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused. “Did I say something funny?”

“No, just… big words coming from you.”

I sense his body shift beside me, and I know if I turn my head, I’ll see his confused expression.

“Well, that’s a low blow.”

Tick, tick, Amelia. Don’t explode. Tick, tick. Don’t let him get to you.

“You have to be kidding me,” I scoff. And there it is. “How long are you planning to play this ‘we are besties’ act?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His voice goes up an octave, clearly caught off guard.

I narrow my eyes. “Jungkook, you were never the nice guy. Or am I supposed to believe that ‘nice guys’ laugh in people’s faces when they confess their feelings? And what is up with you trying to be my friend after the last past years where we have been keeping each other in corporate terms only and pre-approved meetings.”

His jaw tightens and his torso fully turns towards me. “Oh my god, Amelia. Are you still stuck on that? That was, like, four years ago! We were practically kids.”

His dramatic eye roll makes me want to slam on the brakes and watch his head smack against the dashboard. But my car is too nice for that, so I settle for gripping the wheel tighter instead.

“Of course I’m still stuck on it. You hurt my feelings, and you never apologized. And then went back to being my ‘friend’ like nothing ever happened”

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head. “Well, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to h—”

“You’re what?” I interrupt, needing to hear it again. In seven years of knowing him, this is the first time those words have ever left his mouth.

His voice drops, and for the briefest moment, something flickers in his eyes—something too quick for me to catch. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I was a hormonal, drunk teenager who was only interested in getting shitface drunk and playing videogames. I didn’t mean to hurt you; you were one of my closest friends.”

I park the car in front of the hotel entrance, letting his words settle. “Well, that was easy,” I mutter, mostly to myself.

Jungkook shifts in his seat. “Hey, uh… can I ask you a favor?” His eyes stay fixed on the hotel entrance.

I scoff. “Just because you apologized doesn’t mean we’re besties now, Jungkook.”

“Good,” he says smoothly. “That wasn’t my plan with you anyway.” A strange knot forms in my stomach. Not now, Amelia.

He exhales. “Can you stick by me tonight? A lot of investors will be there, and I… I don’t really know much about this company. I just fund it through Taehyung. I’d rather not look like a total idiot, I’m here to represent the company.”

If it isn’t Mr. Know-It-All finally asking for help.

“Fine,” I say, pushing open my door. “But don’t try to hold my hand if you get scared.”

I slam the door shut before he can respond. —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To say the place was packed would be a colossal understatement. The room was overflowing with people zigzagging left and right, talking about everything from the stock market to their dog's gluten-free diet, all while casually flashing their watches and diamonds as if they were party favors.

You’d think that an event launching a wrinkle-preventing device would attract doctors, dermatologists, and maybe a couple of Botox enthusiasts. But this was a Kim-hosted, KK Electronics-funded soirée, which meant business casual was out and "look-at-my-net-worth" was in. Here, dressing to impress wasn’t just encouraged—it was practically a survival tactic. The whole event felt like a glorified appraisal fair, where people weren’t so much mingling as they were calculating each other's market value.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had taken the “stick close” instruction far too literally. Every step I took, his minty breath breezed down my neck like I was a piece of gum he was ready to chew.

“I’m going to need you to take a step back because I can feel your greased-up black shoes polishing my pearl-white Jimmy Choos,” I hissed over my shoulder. My reward? His chest colliding with my face as he took another overzealous step forward.

“Oops. Didn’t realize we were making a pit stop.” He chuckled, covering his mouth as if to muffle the sound, but his wide eyes betrayed his amusement.

From the edge of the room, I spotted Taehyung dragging Nori toward us. They were both decked out in nude tones to match the new product line, looking like Pinterest models for "Beige Aesthetic." My first thought? She’s pregnant. My second thought? I’ve thought it so much I’m practically manifesting a baby bump into her silk dress.

“Here you are!” Nori squealed, pulling me into a hug so tight I thought I heard a rib pop.

“Did you two come together, or is this just fate being creepy?” Taehyung’s eyes bounced between us, his grin too wide for comfort. Jungkook shot him a look—the classic “don’t push it” glare.

“So, where do I take the mandatory photos, and when can I disappear?” I whispered to Nori, only to be rewarded with a slap to my arm.

“Be nice, Amelia! I have a big announcement tonight, and I really need you here.”

Of course, you do. You’re pregnant. And you told my archnemesis before you told me. I wanted to say this but settled for a smile so tight my cheeks ached.

Two hours and four-too-full glasses of wine later, I was laughing with two older gentlemen who had clearly set their GPS coordinates to my cleavage. Their jokes were vintage misogyny—charming if you were into the 1950s vibe, which I wasn’t.

And then, like a hero in an overpriced suit, Jungkook appeared, sliding in between us. His hands landed on their shoulders, his grin sharp enough to cut glass.

���Gentlemen, I see you’ve been charming my business partner. I’m starting to worry I’ll lose my shares for the night.”

Shares? Was he calling me stock?

The men burst into laughter as if Jungkook had just delivered the punchline of the century. They excused themselves, leaving me with the room’s resident buffoon.

“That was quite a comment, Jungkook. Afraid I’d snag more partners for the fundraiser?” I handed him a glass of wine from a passing waiter, hoping he’d choke on it.

“Not at all. In fact, I did you a favor. Those two were seconds away from diving headfirst into your bra.” His tone was light, but if the music hadn’t been so loud, I’d swear I heard a whisper of jealousy.

I arched a brow. “So, now that we’re apparently besties, what’s on your agenda tonight?”

“You’re really making small talk?” He laughed, his white teeth practically glowing against the red wine.

Jungkook swirled his glass, watching the crimson liquid coat the sides. “Honestly? I’ll probably go home and watch a movie. This Monday is too packed for my taste.”

Blame it on the wine or on the dwindling rationality in my brain, but before I could stop myself, I said, “We should watch one together. Like old times.”

His glass paused mid-air, and for a second, he looked like I’d suggested we rob a bank together.

I kept talking because my brain had completely lost control of my mouth. “I mean, we’re trying to be civil, right? Bury the hatchet and all that.” I squinted at him. “Unless you’d prefer being a hermit all night.”

He smirked, eyes twinkling. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” I lied, my tongue heavy, the word stumbling out.

“You just invited your sworn enemy to a movie night. If that’s not wine-induced goodwill, I don’t know what is.”

Before I could respond, the unmistakable clink of a spoon against glass cut through the chatter.

At the center of the room, Taehyung and Nori stood beneath the chandelier’s golden glow. Nori’s smile was so bright I half expected a halo to appear, while Taehyung looked like he’d won the lottery.

“First of all, thank you all for being here,” Taehyung’s voice filled the room. “We’re so grateful to celebrate this launch with all of you. But before you get too cozy with your wine, we have another reason to celebrate.”

The crowd hushed, anticipation thick in the air.

“We’re having a baby!” Nori announced, her joy lighting up the room.

Cheers erupted, and glasses clinked, but the sound barely registered. I just stood there, my mind spiraling into the past, every laugh and whispered secret between us twisting into something sharp and painful.

And next to me, Jungkook—my too-close shadow for the night—stood still, his expression unreadable, as if the room’s golden glow couldn’t quite reach him. —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I met Nori during my freshman year of college, back when life felt like I’d been dropped into the middle of a chaotic, coming-of-age indie movie—except no one had handed me a script. Back when Jungkook and I were still “just friends,” and I was quietly harboring a deep, deep obsession for him. You know, the kind where you rehearse imaginary conversations in the shower and stare at his Instagram like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Nori was the exact opposite of my chaotic energy. I first saw her sitting alone at the campus café, sipping a matcha latte like a serene, Pinterest-worthy study influencer. She was highlighting her notes in not one, not two, but four different colors, while I had just baptized my own notes in a grande caramel macchiato.

I stood there, dripping coffee and dignity, when she looked up at me with the kind of exasperated sigh usually reserved for sitcom moms. “Come sit,” she said, shoving a stack of pristine paper toward me. “I have extra.”

And just like that, Nori adopted me.

We were an odd duo—her with her color-coded planners and spreadsheet budgets, and me, a human tornado in yesterday’s hoodie, thriving on impulse decisions and questionable choices. But it worked.

We crammed for exams in the library until 3 a.m., fueled by caffeine and pure panic. We took road trips with nothing but gas station snacks and a broken GPS that seemed hell-bent on taking us to the middle of nowhere. We sat on rooftops under the stars, swearing we’d never settle down. We’d be those fearless, globe-trotting career women who’d send postcards instead of baby shower invites.

Nori was the queen of these vows. “I’m not having kids until I’m forty-five,” she’d say, waving a breadstick like a gavel. “And by then, I’ll be too busy Botoxing my face and throwing yacht parties.”

So imagine my shock when, today, Nori showed up at my door, eyes shining, belly round, announcing her pregnancy with a smile so wide it could split the world in half.

Time had apparently hit fast-forward while I was still stuck on pause. I stood there, blinking, half-expecting to look around and find us back in that café—her with her matcha latte, me with coffee-soaked notes, and a universe where nothing had changed at all.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You okay?”

Jungkook’s voice pulls me back to the present. He’s watching me carefully, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I exhale slowly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just… processing.Quite the news for the night.”

Because if Nori—of all people—could change, what else was possible?

And why, suddenly, did the idea of watching a movie with Jungkook feel like less of a mistake?

The applause is deafening, glasses clinking as people toast to Taehyung and Nori’s announcement. My smile stays in place as I watch my best friend bask in the glow of congratulations, but deep down, something uneasy tugs at my chest. I should be nothing but happy for her—hell, I am happy for her—but there’s this nagging feeling, this voice in the back of my head whispering that things are shifting too quickly and that I might be left behind in the whirlwind of change.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I weave through the crowd, squeezing past men in perfectly tailored suits and women dripping in diamonds, finally reaching Nori just as she’s finishing up a conversation with an investor.

“Amelia!” She turns, her face lighting up as she immediately throws her arms around me. The force of her hug nearly knocks the wind out of me, but I hold on just as tightly.

I breathe her in, taking comfort in the familiarity. “I’m so happy for you,” I whisper into her shoulder, my throat tightening. “You’re going to be an incredible mom.”

Nori pulls back slightly, her eyes shining. “God, I hope so. I still can’t believe this is real.” She places a hand over her stomach, and I watch the tenderness in her expression, my heart swelling and breaking at the same time.

I clear my throat, forcing a playful smirk. “Well, considering how much Taehyung babies you already, I think you’re in good hands.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Tell me about it. He won’t even let me lift a purse without panicking.”

We share a quiet chuckle, but before the moment passes, something else crosses my mind. I glance around the crowded room, noticing the absence of some very familiar faces. Some that should have been there without question.

“Hey, where are the other girls?” I ask, shifting my weight. “Yuna? Aurora? Hayeon? Did they just flake on a free champagne event, or was there a very exclusive guest list I wasn’t aware of? I would expect you to want your other best friends here as well."

Nori’s smile falters slightly, a flicker of guilt flashing across her face. She exhales, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I feel horrible about it, Amelia. But this event—it was mostly about catching the attention of the right people. The funders, the investors. I had to keep it small, mainly with people who could… contribute.”

I try to mask the sting, but my voice betrays me. “So, what? They didn’t make the cut?”

Her eyes widen. “No! No, Amelia, it’s not like that. You guys are my family. I just—I had to do this first, the way Taehyung and I planned. But I swear I’ll make it up to you. We’ll have a proper celebration. Just us, the way it should be. Not business related.”

I stare at her for a long moment, wanting to believe every word. I know she means it—I know she does—but that lingering voice in my head keeps whispering that this is just the beginning of a widening gap. Highlighting again how far away and out of touch I feel with the few people that felt like family.

I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and force a small smile. “Yeah. Of course. I get it.”

She squeezes my hands, searching my face. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Positive.”

Jungkook appears at my side then, his presence unexpectedly grounding. “Ready to go? I have my driver outside and I can drop you off.”

Grateful for the exit, I nod quickly. “Yeah. Nori, congratulations again. We’ll talk later. I really do not feel that well and I have an early morning tomorrow.”

She gives me one last lingering look, and for a second, I think she sees through me. But she lets me go, and I don’t look back.

Jungkook holds the door open for me, and as we step into the cool night air, I finally exhale, my breath clouding in front of me.

“Rough night, huh?” he asks, his voice warm and gentle.

I snort, the sound more broken than I intended. “You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and it’s like a safety net catching me before I fall too far. “Well, lucky for you, my movie collection is extensive, and my popcorn-making skills are legendary.”

And suddenly, the idea of escaping into a movie with him doesn’t feel like running away—it feels like pressing pause. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what I need.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive-back is mostly quiet, except for the occasional hum of the radio and the city lights flashing by in a blur. My head feels heavy, both from the wine and the weight of my thoughts. Jungkook is unusually silent too, drumming his fingers against the armrest as his driver maneuvers through the streets, since we are too drunk to get behind the wheel.

I keep my eyes on the passing buildings, trying to hold myself together, but the emotions I’ve been suppressing all night finally catch up to me. Before I even realize what’s happening, my breath hitches, and a choked sob escapes.

Jungkook stiffens instantly. “Amelia?”

I shake my head, swiping my eyes furiously. “God, I don’t even know why I’m crying. This is so stupid. I am so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything right away; he just signals his driver to lower the music and waits.

I exhale shakily, trying to steady myself. “I just—. Omg this is so stupid and dramatic of me.” A bitter laugh bubbles up from my throat. “I feel like I’m losing my friends. Like everyone’s moving on to these big relationships and announcements, important things, and I’m just… I am literally the only single person in our group of friends that has not personal life whatsoever.” I trail off, my voice breaking.

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the armrest tightening slightly.

I inhale sharply, my chest constricting. “And what if that happens to all of us? What if I wake up one day and realize I’m the only one still holding onto the past? What if I’m not good enough to keep up?What if all my friends go on and live their life and build something more than just a stupid, clean resume for themselves and a nice office and ig title on a glass wall?”

The silence stretches between us, and for a moment, I regret saying anything. But then—

“That’s bullshit.”

I blink, turning to him. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “You think you’re the only one feeling like this? We’re all trying to figure things out, Amelia. We are all still so young. Just because things are changing doesn’t mean you’re being left behind. Everyone experiences things at their own pace.”

I sniffle, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “It sure feels like it.”

He finally looks at me then, and his gaze is softer than I’ve ever seen it. “You’re one of the smartest, most capable people I know. You could be running your own company without one approval from your dad if you wanted to. And I get it that sometimes you feel like you loose touch of your personal life because we are surrounded by so much work, but we are young and we still have the time to fix that.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Nah, if I was buttering you up, I’d compliment your manic driving skills, but we both know that would be a lie.”

A watery laugh escapes me before I can stop it. I wipe my eyes again, breathing out. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

He shrugs, glancing back at the road. “Anytime.”

The car pulls up in front of my apartment building, the engine humming softly as Jungkook shifts into seat. The street outside is quiet, only the occasional flicker of a streetlamp cutting through the darkness.

Jungkook leans back against his seat, running a hand through his hair before turning to me. “You good now?”

I let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks for, uh… letting me have a moment.”

He smirks. “Anytime. I’ll add ‘designated emotional support’ to my clean résumé.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it.

For a moment, we just sit there, neither of us moving. The air between us is different now—softer, less charged with the usual push and pull. It’s strange. Comfortable, even.

And before I can stop myself, the words slip out.

“Do you want to come up? I know I said that I was tired, but it would be nice to not go up to an empty apartment for now.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. “Come up?”

I shift in my seat, suddenly feeling awkward. “Yeah. I mean… we could put on a movie or something. I make really good hot cocoa.”

He raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Hot cocoa?”

I cross my arms. “Yes, hot cocoa. Not everything has to be about alcohol, Jeon.”

Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head as if considering it. “Alright. But if your hot cocoa sucks, I’m never letting you live it down. I will have Jimin on speed dial to complain.”

I scoff, pushing the car door open. “Please. You’re about to have the best hot cocoa of your life.”

Jungkook steps out as well. “We’ll see about that.”

As we walk towards my building, a cool breeze rushes past us, but for some reason, I don’t feel cold. Maybe it’s the absurd amount of wine. Maybe it’s the unexpected warmth of Jungkook’s presence beside me after so many years.

Or maybe, just maybe, tonight isn’t ending the way I thought it would.

[oceannote]

EMPIRE WAR - Introduction

Note from author: Hello my lovelies, hope you will enjoy this new and first series that I am writing. To give you a bit of an insight this is a story that plays mostly in the business corporate environment, but besides being a love story it is a friendship story and represents how we sometimes navigate life when we feel overwhelmed in our 20's. A lot will be going on and all I can say it is to grab your snacks and drinks and get ready because it will be a turmoil of a storyline. Warnings: Characthers are fake and are a result of fiction, mentions of bullying and lack of self confindence. ______________________________________________________________

Imagine this: You’re 18, fresh out of an elite Swiss boarding school, where even the vending machines probably have a wine list. You’re the only child of the Richardsons—a family so wealthy that saying your last name out loud is basically a cheat code for life. VIP access? Check. Designer bags? All of them. Your biggest stressor? Deciding whether to party in Paris or Milan this weekend.

But there’s one tiny problem.

You’ve been lying to your father—the Thomas Richardson—about getting into Harvard Business School. Yes, the Harvard. And with your imaginary first semester creeping up, reality slaps you harder than a Korean skincare routine: You’re not even on the waitlist.

Cue the most apocalyptic father-daughter showdown in history. I’m sobbing, mascara smudged like a raccoon, while my father’s voice reaches decibel levels that could shatter glass. He says I’m a disappointment, a spoiled brat, proof that giving a kid everything means they’ll appreciate nothing. And here’s the kicker: He wasn’t wrong.

Thomas Richardson wasn’t just born with a silver spoon—he probably had a platinum bib. At ten, he had a personal driver for his Bentley and went to school with royal heirs. But while teenage me was dodging responsibilities, 18-year-old Thomas was begging to work at Wonder Technologies, our family’s tech empire. And now? He’s punishing me for being… well, me.

His master plan? Uprooting us to my mom’s home country: South Korea.

For me, it was hell. For him, it was genius.

My mom, Soonja, is a powerhouse—a full-Korean queen who clawed her way from a humble farm to a prestigious UK scholarship, despite speaking about as much English as a K-pop song’s random rap verse. She raised me on two ironclad rules:

Invest in yourself. Find a man who worships the ground you walk on. Easier said than done, Mom.

So, there I was, 19 years old, tossed into the Business Strategy program at Seoul National University. My dad thought Korean culture’s discipline might break my wild spirit. Instead, I made friends, survived university, and, of course, developed a crush that turned my life into a K-drama gone wrong. Enter my bestie, Aurora Sinclair—a tall, blonde, blue-eyed German adopted by a Korean family at age three. She was the human equivalent of a confetti cannon, pulling together our girl squad: Me, Aurora, Han Nori, Jung Yuna, and Lee Hayeon.

We were a sight—two tall foreigners and three petite Korean girls, strutting through campus like the world’s most confusing girl group. The beauty standards were brutal. I spent four years battling my skin, my weight, and my inability to match Korean fashion’s “effortless” perfection.

And as if the universe needed a good laugh, I fell hard for him.

Jeon Jungkook.

The heir to KK Electronics, son of Soun Jeon, and a man so stunning he could make a mannequin self-conscious. His father had already announced Jungkook as the future CEO before the guy even set foot in his first lecture.

What started as a harmless crush turned into a full-blown, soul-destroying infatuation. I built our imaginary love story in my head, from meet-cute to “I do,” until reality decided to hit me with a plot twist.

At our end-of-year party, after downing more soju than legally advisable, I confessed my feelings. And Jungkook? He laughed.

Like, full-on, belly laugh. In front of his entire friend group.

And just in case I still had a shred of dignity left, he publicly friend-zoned me so hard that even Google Maps couldn’t find a way out.

And now? Well, I’m 26 years old, and—plot twist—I’m the CFO of Wonder Technologies.

Yeah, I gag a little every time I see my name on my office wall:

"Amelia Richardson, CFO."

The irony is delicious, isn’t it? The girl who couldn’t spell “business strategy” is now running a tech empire.

But here’s where things get even juicier. It’s not just that I work here—it’s who I work with.

After my confession disaster, our university friend groups split like a bad boy band breakup. Now, my company is a circus featuring:

Park Jimin: One of Jungkook’s besties, now an executive director at Wonder Technologies. He practically lives in my office, gossiping about celebrity scandals. He’s also dating my best friend, Yuna—our marketing director.

Min Yoongi: Another of Jungkook’s crew, head of sales, and my personal workplace menace. He’s secretly dating Aurora, but if you ask him, we all somehow have the IQ of a potato for not figuring it out.

And then, of course, there’s him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Now ruling his empire with his remaining Musketeers:

Kim Taehyung: CFO at KK Electronics, dating my friend Han Nori. At least her love story had a happy ending.

Kim Seokjin: Jungkook’s cousin and executive director.

Kim Namjoon: A board member who looks like he stepped out of a James Bond movie.

Jung Hoseok: The main glue of the group that keeps us from jumping at each other's throats 24/7.

Because this isn’t just a story about a boy who made me question my entire existence.

This is a saga of boardroom battles, high-stakes drama, broken hearts, and maybe—just maybe—some ridiculously romantic moments.

So grab your popcorn, hold onto your wine glass, and get ready.

Welcome to the Empire War.