Dancing With Fire | +18 | (NEW)

19 | The Price of Silence

Jimin sat motionless, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, his mind adrift in a sea of memory. The encounter with Yuna and his mother lingered like a stubborn fog, clouding his focus. Yuna's voice—soft, tentative, laced with a hope he couldn't return—echoed in his ears. "I've missed you, Jimin. Can't we try again?"

His mother's eyes had been sharp, expectant, pinning him with the weight of familial duty. He'd deflected, as always, but the conversation had left a bruise, tender and unyielding. He exhaled, the sound swallowed by the quiet of his office, and willed himself back to the present. There was work to be done.

A sharp tap at the door jolted him upright. It swung open before he could respond, and Jaesung stepped in, his polished loafers silent against the hardwood floor. His suit was crisp, a deep charcoal that screamed that he was trying very hard to show off, but it was the smirk curling his lips that set Jimin's teeth on edge.

"You can't avoid me for long, Park Jimin," Jaesung said, his voice smooth as oil, slick with confidence. He crossed the room in three strides, stopping just short of the desk, his presence an intrusion Jimin could feel in his bones.

"I wasn't avoiding you," Jimin replied, his tone flat, controlled. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath him, and met Jaesung's gaze. "I've been busy."

"Busy dodging me," Jaesung quipped, his smirk widening. He dropped a sleek black folder onto the desk, the thud reverberating in the stillness. "But I'm here now, and we're finalising this deal. Today."

Jimin's eyes flicked to the folder, then back to Jaesung. He knew what was inside: the Bioverse partnership agreement, a web of clauses and percentages that would bind Paxim Global to Jaesung's cosmetics juggernaut. It was a deal he'd resisted, not out of doubt in its potential benefit to Paxim, but because of the strings attached—tangled, treacherous strings.

"Fine," Jimin said, his voice steady despite the flicker of unease in his chest. "We'll finalise it. But it's on my terms."

Jaesung's laugh was short, a bark of amusement that didn't reach his eyes. "Your terms? Cute." He reached into his jacket, producing a slim envelope and sliding it across the desk with a flick of his wrist. "Take a look at these first."

Jimin's fingers hesitated above the envelope, a prickle of instinct warning him. He opened it with a swift flick of his paperknife, pulling out a stack of photographs, and the air in the room seemed too thin. The images were grainy, taken in low light, but unmistakable: Y/N at the Blue Fox, her silhouette fluid and defiant, her face obscured by an edited blur. His stomach lurched, a hot spike of anger surging through him.

"What the hell is this?" Jimin's voice was a low growl, his grip tightening until the edges of the photos crinkled.

Jaesung shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating. "Just some pictures I happened to snap. She's quite the performer, your little friend. I thought you'd want to know what she's been up to since the expo."