LunaMuseWrites
Jennie Kim had the kind of presence that made people lower their voices without realizing it. In a city where heirs and heiresses bloomed like flowers in glass houses, she was all marble and steel, untouchable, deliberate, the kind of woman whose silences weighed more than most people's speeches.
The gossip columns liked to call her The Unmoved Heiress. No scandal to her name, no lover on her arm, no careless night that the tabloids could twist. She wasn't immune to attention ... she simply wore it like rain on glass, letting it slide off without ever seeping in. Suitors came and went, their expensive bouquets wilting outside her office doors, their proposals brushed aside with polite, cutting efficiency.
Those who knew her well, and there weren't many, understood the truth: Jennie wasn't looking for someone she could simply like. She was looking for someone who could keep up. Most couldn't.
Which was why she didn't expect to pause, just slightly, just enough to notice, when a soft chime lit up the phone on the coffee table. Not hers. Taehyung's.
A preview of a message from Lisa Manoban.
And a picture.