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Title: "Returning for Her"
The hum of the private jet's engines faded as Jungkook descended the steps onto Korean soil, his sharp gaze masked beneath dark sunglasses. Years abroad had hardened him, refining the boy he once was into a powerful man. The mafia empire he now ruled extended beyond borders, making him a legend before even setting foot back home. Yet, for all the wealth and danger surrounding him, his mind remained anchored to one thing—her. Y/N.
He slid into the backseat of the black limousine waiting for him at the tarmac. As the driver merged onto the busy streets of Seoul, Jungkook sat in silence, his jaw set tight. He had waited years to return, and now that he was here, every move he made would bring him closer to the life that had been decided long ago—a life with her.
The car pulled into the underground parking of Jeon Corporation's headquarters. Jungkook straightened his suit jacket, every movement deliberate and controlled. As he exited the vehicle, employees stopped in their tracks, bowing low. Whispers buzzed among them. He's back.
The doors to the private elevator slid open, and standing inside was Aana, his secretary. She smiled brightly, a hint of familiarity flickering in her eyes.
"Welcome back, Jungkook," she greeted warmly, trying to bridge the years between them with a friendliness that bordered on personal.
Jungkook's gaze locked onto her. "Mr. Jeon," he corrected flatly, his tone cold enough to cut through the air.
Aana's smile faltered, her grip tightening slightly on the clipboard she held. "Of course, Mr. Jeon," she mumbled, the formality stinging more than she expected.
The ride up was silent, tension hanging thick between them. Aana stole a glance at him—he was even more handsome than she remembered, his features sharper, his aura darker. She had dreamed of this moment for years, the chance to see him again, hoping that maybe... just maybe... the boy she knew was still there.
But Jungkook's posture was rigid, his eyes cold and unreadable as they stared at the elevator doors.
When the doors opened to his private office, Aana followed him closely. "If you need anything, just let me know," she said, her voice soft, trying once more to break through his coldness.
Jungkook paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. "You're my secretary, Aana," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "Not my friend."
The words hit her harder than she expected, her face draining of any remaining warmth. She opened her mouth to respond, but the intensity of his gaze silenced her.
"I expect you to keep things professional," he continued, his voice a low warning. "In this office, you're nothing more than that."
Aana swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. "Understood."
Jungkook turned away without another word, the conversation already dismissed from his mind. His steps were purposeful as he approached his desk, the weight of unfinished business pressing against him.
The thought of Y/N flickered in his mind again, bringing with it a sense of calm he hadn't felt in years. Everything he did now was for her—and soon, she would be within his reach again.
For now, though, there were boundaries to set, distractions to eliminate. And Aana needed to understand her place before things progressed any further.
The moment he sat down, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. Everything was falling into place.
And soon enough, so would she.
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