Shadows Of Desire | ✓

Chapter 1

In the heart of Seoul, where history clings to the shadows of steel skyscrapers and the scent of roasted chestnuts mingles with luxury perfumes, Jeon Jungkook moved with quiet purpose. His steps were measured, his presence like a whisper of old money and unspoken power. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with a matching coat that swayed just above polished shoes, he cut a commanding figure. Yet, beneath the flawless exterior, something in him itched to break free.

His phone buzzed.

"Hyung," he answered, voice low but firm.

"Where the hell are you?" Namjoon's voice crackled through the speaker, laced with irritation. "The board meeting started ten minutes ago."

"I needed some air." Jungkook didn't pause. "I'll be there."

"You can't keep ghosting like this. You're not some intern—you're the Jeon heir."

"I'm aware," Jungkook replied, his jaw tightening.

He ended the call without another word, slipping the phone into his coat pocket. Around him, Seoul surged with life—people brushed past, unaware of the storm brewing behind his composed expression. His family's name carried weight. Prestige. Control. But it also came with suffocating expectations.

As he crossed the street, the sound of his polished shoes clacked against the pavement, drowned beneath the thrum of city traffic and the faint strains of music from a nearby café. His thoughts were a tangled mess—mergers, image, responsibility, legacy. A thousand duties he hadn't chosen.

He didn't see her coming.

A sudden impact jolted him back to the present. A shoulder slammed into his chest, light but firm, and a gasp escaped both of them as bags tumbled to the ground.

"Oh my god—I'm so sorry!" a voice exclaimed, soft and melodic.

He looked down—and froze.

She bent to retrieve a scattered phone, a paperback novel, and a small makeup pouch. Her hair fell like liquid gold over her shoulder, catching the late afternoon sunlight. When she straightened, their eyes locked.

Time stilled.

Her gaze was oceanic—deep, shifting, impossible to ignore. For a moment, he forgot how to speak.

"I wasn't looking," she said again, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, a faint pink rising to her cheeks. "Totally my fault. I was—thinking about something."

"No, it's fine," Jungkook replied, too quickly. "I wasn't paying attention either."

He crouched down to help with her things, and their hands brushed. She paused but didn't pull away. A strange tension hung between them—delicate, electric.

"I'm Lisa," she offered, standing upright again. "Lalisa, technically. But most people just call me Lisa."

"Jungkook."

Her brow lifted slightly. "Jeon Jungkook?"

He blinked. "Yeah."

A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "My father's mentioned your name once or twice."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm. He's always talking about powerful families—dynasties, legacies, that kind of thing." She gave a theatrical sigh. "It's very Game of Thrones, honestly."

Jungkook chuckled despite himself. "And you listen?"

"God, no. I usually zone out after the word 'strategic alliance.'"