CLOSER ll Jikook ll🔞 [Complete ✅]

CHAPTER 24

Hello, sweethearts, I've written and rewritten this chapter countless times-not the entire thing, but certain parts of it-always striving for perfection. I kept pushing myself, feeling like no matter what I did, something was missing. But then I realized that chasing perfection is a never-ending battle. Instead of focusing on making everything flawless, I should focus on delivering what I truly feel. This one is my best try from my side, but it might not be the best one for you... Bear with it (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

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SEOUL, 7:20 PM

A hush does seem to settle over the air as Junseo's car slowly stops before the iron gates towering above the Park estate, a chill of suspense being equalled only by that which seems to settle within the vehicle where Junseo sits. Darkness is matched only by gloomy weather, the sound of steady rain beads on the windshield breaking the silence created by the muted hum dying as the engine finally comes to rest.

Junseo sits in the backseat, his posture rigid as his dark eyes pierce through the mist, focusing on the iron gates that stand as both a barrier and a warning. He's dressed sharply in a tailored black suit, the crisp lines and polished shoes screaming authority. Next to him, his wife, Sana, adjusts the high collar of her coat.

Her fingers quiver a little, betraying the tension she conceals behind her poised posture. The faintest lipstick rings her lips, a contrary colour to the pallor in which her skin is mantled; still, it looks too pat and serenely smooth, masking a quiet aside that tells another story.

The gates creaked ominously, and the sound lingered in the damp air as the car slowly mounted the long, winding driveway. Before it loomed the estate impropriety of whose grandeur was merely enhanced by the rain-soaked stone and the towering pillars.

Junseo's mind races, running through the potential outcomes of the night's meeting. Park Minho's summons hadn't come lightly, and the tension between their families was a thread stretched dangerously thin. He knows the storm they're walking into isn't just about old rivalries-it's about control, legacy, and the precarious future of both the Jeon and Park empires.

The car stops before the estate's massive front doors, and a servant rushes out, umbrella in hand, shielding them from the rain. Junseo steps out first, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened surroundings for any sign of danger. Sana follows close behind, her movements fluid but cautious. They are not here as mere guests-they are entering enemy territory.

The estate is certainly opulent inside. Chandeliers swing from vaulted ceilings, casting dappled, gold light across marble flooring that shines underfoot. Every last detail screams wealth, power, and superiority. A quiet reminder of the Park family's dominance.

They're led through the winding corridors, the heels of Sana's shoes clicking softly in the silence, until they reach the heart of the estate: the meeting room.

The doors-heavy oak polished to perfection-swing open to reveal a room that reeks of tension. A long mahogany table stretches down the centre, the flickering candlelight glinting off delicate crystal glasses and unopened bottles of whiskey. No one's here to drink, though. The atmosphere is too heavy for that.

At the head of the table sits Park Minho, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the room. Dressed in a fine suit, his cane is resting by his side of the desk, his presence is as sharp as ever, the years of commanding respect etched into his lined face.

To his left is Park Juho, his son, who mirrors Minho's cold intensity, and to his right is Park Aera, her sharp eyes sweeping the room like a hawk surveying its prey. Further down, Yoongi's parents sit quietly; their roles diminished over the years in mafia world, but their influence and watchful eyes are ever-present.