Chapter 2 – Wine, Wit, and War

The crystal chandelier above the Grand Eden Hotel’s ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, casting a warm glow over silk gowns, tuxedos, and glittering jewelry. The charity gala was in full swing; cameras flashed every few seconds, servers moved with quiet grace, and the air was a polished blend of champagne and expensive perfume.

Taehyung was standing at the foot of the grand staircase where he had made his dazzling entrance minutes ago. A wine-red suit tailored to perfection, a single silver chain at his collar, and that faint smile that wasn’t quite humble enough to be modest yet not arrogant enough to be rude — the perfect balance. And it drove Jeon Jungkook insane.

Not that anyone could tell. The youngest CEO of Jeon Corp, a man whose boardroom glare could freeze competitors mid-sentence, was leaning casually against the marble pillar with a glass of red wine. His expression was polite for the cameras, but his grip on the stem of the glass was just tight enough to make the crystal creak.

“Mr. Kim,” Jungkook said when the host ushered them together for a photograph. His voice was smooth, warm — too warm, like a silk scarf concealing a knife.

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung returned with equal grace, giving a half bow for the benefit of the flashing cameras. His eyes sparkled mischievously, the corner of his lips tilting up. “What a… pleasant surprise.”

“Surprise?” Jungkook murmured, tilting his head slightly as the camera clicked again. “You knew the board would send me.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “I just didn’t expect they’d send you personally. Don’t you usually send one of your… ah, assistants to these events?”

The click-click of cameras masked the soft edge in Taehyung’s voice. A few guests whispered nearby, sensing the electric tension but mistaking it for charm.

“I make exceptions,” Jungkook replied, the perfect picture of composure. “Especially for special people.”

The photographer thanked them and moved away, leaving them in a polite stand-off by the champagne fountain.

Round One: The Seating War

Dinner was announced, and guests began drifting to their assigned tables. Taehyung took a sip of champagne, glancing at the seating chart by the entrance. His eyes lit up, and that was Jungkook’s first warning sign.

Table Three.

Jungkook’s table.

“Oh, you’re Table Three as well?” Taehyung said innocently as they approached the round table dressed in white linen and gold cutlery.

Jungkook arched a brow. “Don’t tell me you requested this.”

“Request?” Taehyung blinked, feigning surprise. “Of course not. That would be petty.”

The hostess pulled out the chair on Jungkook’s right. “Mr. Kim, you’ll be seated here.”

Which meant Taehyung would be beside him the entire evening.

Jungkook gave a tight smile. “Perfect.”

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung said as he sat down, his tone too sweet to be genuine. “I won’t spill wine on your suit. Unless you provoke me.”

It was going to be a long night.

Round Two: The Speech Trap

Midway through the dinner, the host announced a surprise auction to raise funds. Several guests pledged items: a signed violin, an antique painting, a luxury vacation package. Jungkook contributed a rare vintage wine collection from his private cellar.

Then Taehyung stood up.

“I’d like to offer a private business lunch with me at the newly opened rooftop restaurant of Luxe Tower,” he said with a smile that was both charming and smug. “I’ll personally give the winning bidder my professional insights into market expansion.”

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room. Luxe Tower’s rooftop was notoriously hard to book.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t charity — it was a PR stunt. And judging by the crowd’s reaction, it was working.

When the bidding ended, Taehyung’s lunch sold for nearly double the price of Jungkook’s wine.

“Well,” Taehyung said softly as he returned to his seat, “I suppose some people value conversation more than wine.”

Jungkook leaned closer, his voice low. “Careful, Kim. You might make me think you’re challenging me.”

“Think?” Taehyung smirked. “I’m telling you.”

Round Three: The Spill

After dessert, a server passed behind Jungkook carrying a tray of wine glasses. A guest brushed past too quickly, bumping into the tray.

A glass tipped — straight toward Jungkook.

Reflexes sharp as ever, Taehyung caught the glass before it could ruin Jungkook’s suit. But in doing so, he managed to tilt it just enough that a few drops splashed onto Jungkook’s cuff.

“Oh no,” Taehyung said, wide-eyed in mock horror. “Did I just save you and ruin your sleeve? What a tragedy.”

Jungkook glanced at the tiny stain, then at Taehyung. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did I?” Taehyung handed him a napkin. “Maybe my hands slipped. Or maybe I just wanted to make sure you remembered me tonight.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a glare. “Trust me, Kim. I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

Round Four: The Invitation

As the event wound down, guests exchanged goodbyes and last-minute business cards. Jungkook caught Taehyung by the elevator.

“Lunch,” Jungkook said.

Taehyung raised a brow. “Ah, you want to bid for my auction slot? Sorry, it’s already sold.”

“Not that lunch.” Jungkook stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Tomorrow. My office. 1 PM. Unless you’re afraid I’ll outwit you on my own turf.”

Taehyung’s smile widened. “Your turf? Jungkook, we both know the battlefield is wherever I walk in.”

The elevator doors opened. Taehyung stepped inside, pressing the ‘close’ button slowly, deliberately, as if giving Jungkook the chance to join him.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Jeon,” he said just as the doors slid shut.

Jungkook stood there, watching the numbers climb, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

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