Chapter 3 – Lunch with the Enemy

The elevator doors slid open with a dignified chime, revealing the top floor of Jeon Enterprises.

Floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed the glittering city skyline, while the faint hum of the air conditioning gave the place an icy, almost intimidating calm.

Employees lowered their heads respectfully as Taehyung stepped out, his tailored navy suit a sharp contrast against the pristine white marble floors.

“Mr. Kim, the President is expecting you,” Jungkook’s assistant, Park Chul, greeted him with a polite bow.

The man was overly formal, which made Taehyung’s lips twitch.

“Don’t look so stiff, Mr. Park,” Taehyung said with an easy smile, “I’m not here to buy the company… yet.”

The assistant looked momentarily panicked, not sure if it was a joke.

Taehyung smirked to himself — one point to him before the game even started.

Inside the massive office, Jungkook was lounging behind a mahogany desk, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled as if he’d been too busy conquering empires to notice.

On his desk sat a gold nameplate, neat stacks of documents, and… a steaming takeout bag.

“Takeout?” Taehyung arched a brow as he walked in. “Wow. For someone with a net worth in the billions, you really know how to treat a guest.”

Jungkook didn’t even look up. “It’s imported. Directly from a Michelin-star chef in Paris.”

He finally glanced at him, eyes cool but with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“And besides… I didn’t invite you here for the food. Sit.”

The chair opposite Jungkook’s desk was plush and ridiculously comfortable, which annoyed Taehyung for some reason. The man probably used psychological warfare via furniture.

Lunch was served on the conference table — lobster rolls, truffle pasta, and a wine so expensive Taehyung was pretty sure it had been aged longer than both of them combined.

“You’re trying to impress me,” Taehyung said casually, twirling the pasta with perfect manners. “It’s not working.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “Not impress. Convince.”

He slid a sleek black folder across the table. Inside was a proposal for a joint luxury real estate project in the city’s prime district. It was bold, ambitious… and would merge their companies in a way that gave Jungkook a dangerous level of influence over Taehyung’s market.

Taehyung closed the folder with a snap. “So this was your real reason for lunch. You want to sink your teeth into my territory.”

“Your territory?” Jungkook’s voice was a velvet drawl. “Cute. But the truth is, Kim, we both know that if we teamed up, we’d crush the competition. We could own this city.”

“Or,” Taehyung said sweetly, “you could own half my company. And I’d rather starve.”

Their banter was sharp, quick — like verbal fencing with each trying to score points.

At one point, Jungkook deliberately placed an allergen-heavy dish in front of him — shrimp dumplings.

“I remember you used to love these,” he said innocently.

Taehyung didn’t blink. “Still do.”

He popped one into his mouth, hiding the fact that his throat prickled. He wasn’t about to give Jungkook the satisfaction of seeing him flustered.

“Careful,” Jungkook murmured, eyes flicking briefly to his neck. “You’ve always been stubborn when you should know better.”

Taehyung’s chopsticks paused for just a second. There was something in Jungkook’s tone — not quite rivalry, not quite concern. But he brushed it off.

After lunch, Jungkook personally walked him to the elevator, much to his assistant’s surprise.

Just before the doors closed, Jungkook pressed a small, elegant black box into Taehyung’s hand.

“What is this?”

“A business courtesy,” Jungkook said, expression unreadable. “You’ll find it useful.”

Taehyung looked down at the box. Inside, nestled in velvet, was a platinum pen engraved with his initials. Practical… but expensive.

He frowned. “You’re not buying me off, Jeon.”

“Of course not,” Jungkook said with that infuriating smirk. “I already own your attention.”

The elevator doors shut, leaving Taehyung staring at the gift, a strange weight settling in his chest.

He told himself it was nothing — just another round in their endless rivalry.

But somewhere, deep down, he felt it again — that faint, inexplicable pull toward the man he was supposed to hate.

Taehyung absentmindedly rubbed his stomach on the ride down.

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