MR.JEON 💜📖 Part 2 The Price of Loving Him
After the rooftop, Jungkook walked me halfway to the gates. He had that look—the one he gets before his father's calls.
He left with that small wave, the one that never feels long enough.
The sky was already dimming when I started down the street. I stopped by the corner shop—milk, instant noodles, things my mom liked. My phone buzzed once, but before I could check it, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb.
The window slid down.
For a heartbeat, I thought it was Jungkook. The voice was deep, calm—too calm. But when I looked, it wasn't him.
A suited driver stepped out and opened the rear door.
My pulse stumbled.
He nodded once. "If you come now, it will be quick."
I could've walked away. I should've.
But something in his tone made it sound less like a request and more like an order.
I got in. Inside, the air smelled of leather and silence. The tinted glass blurred the world outside.
We drove without music, without talk—just the hum of the engine and my thoughts catching up to what this might mean.
Fifteen minutes later, the car stopped in front of the Grand Seoul Hotel.
The driver opened my door.
And that's where it began—the moment I realized love could be used as a weapon.
The lounge was almost empty, gold light spilling across polished floors.
He was already there — Jeon Sang-Woo.
Perfect posture. Crisp suit. The kind of man whose silence said more than his words ever could.
He didn't stand when I approached. Just watched me like he'd already decided who I was.
My voice came out smaller than I wanted.
He gestured to the chair across from him.
I sat. My palms pressed together beneath the table.
A faint, humorless smile curved his mouth.
I felt the sting behind his words but said nothing.
He nodded slowly, like ticking off details he could use later.
The way he said it didn't sound like a question.
He cut in, voice smooth, final.
My stomach dropped.
He reached into his briefcase, sliding a white envelope across the table. It stopped in front of me like a line I wasn't meant to cross.
I stared at the envelope, then back at him.
His eyes hardened, though his tone stayed calm.
I swallowed, forcing my voice steady.
He stood, adjusting his cufflinks. The movement was slow, deliberate.
The air left my lungs.
He met my eyes. Calm. Absolute.
He turned to go, then paused at the door.
The door clicked shut behind him.
I didn't move for a long time. Just stared at the envelope.
The glow from the chandelier blurred in my eyes until it wasn't light anymore
?? You read all the way here? You're officially my favorite person.????
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