CHAPTER 1
Chapter 1
The Tyrant of THK & Partners
The heavy oak doors of THK & Partners’ executive office swing open and slam shut with enough force to rattle the frosted glass panels. Jeon Jungkook strides in, all fury and frustration, not even bothering with the formality of a knock. His jaw is tight, his eyes sharper than usual as he crosses the room in long, furious strides and tosses a thick stack of files onto Kim Taehyung’s sleek black desk.
“Are you fucking serious right now, Taehyung!? Again?”
Behind the desk, Taehyung does not flinch. He does not even lift his eyes from the laptop screen. The blue-white glow reflects off his sharp features: sharp like the cut of his tailored charcoal suit, sharp like the quiet precision with which he moves. He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his espresso, as if Jungkook’s presence is nothing more than a minor disruption to his morning routine.
“She was incompetent,” he replies coolly, tone devoid of remorse.
Jungkook’s voice pitches higher in disbelief. “She lasted three days! Three! That’s a record, even for you!”
Taehyung finally leans back, folding his hands in his lap, expression unreadable. “I need someone who can keep up. Not someone who panics every time I breathe.”
“She was fresh out of a top law school,” Jungkook shoots back. “You gave her no training, no support, and expected her to operate at your level from day one!”
“She forgot to schedule my meeting with the IP team,” Taehyung says, each word a razor. “And when I addressed the issue, she cried. That’s not a secretary, but a dead weight.”
Jungkook lets out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to fend off a migraine. “No, Tae. That is a human being. One who probably walked into this job hoping for mentorship, not military-grade emotional warfare.”
Taehyung’s gaze hardens. “This is not a charity. If she can’t handle pressure, she should not be in this business.”
Jungkook gestures toward him with a wave of disbelief. “You don’t need a secretary, you need a fucking saint. Or a therapist. Or both.”
Taehyung does not even blink. He clicks his pen once, as if punctuating his growing impatience. “Just hire someone else. Someone competent.”
Jungkook exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find people who are both brilliant and willing to work with you? Your reputation precedes you, and not in a good way. It’s a miracle people still apply.”
“Then raise the salary,” Taehyung replies, tone flat, eyes already drifting back to his laptop screen. “Buy their tolerance.”
Jungkook throws his hands up. “Great. Let’s bribe someone into surviving your ice-cold dictatorship.”
“If that is what it takes.” Taehyung shuts the laptop with a soft click, stands, and methodically buttons his suit jacket. Every movement is composed, calculated and impenetrable.
Jungkook watches him, incredulous. “One day, someone’s going to walk in here and give you hell. And when they do? I’m going to pull up a chair and eat popcorn.”
Taehyung adjusts his cufflinks and says nothing. He doesn’t need to. His silence is louder than any retort.
No one has ever lasted long enough to push back.
But what Taehyung doesn’t know is this:
He’s about to meet someone who won’t just last.
They will break through.
And when they do, Taehyung’s entire world will shift.
Jungkook storms out of Taehyung’s office, the door thudding shut behind him with a dull finality. His footsteps echo sharply in the marble-floored corridor, each step fueled by irritation. He rubs his temples with one hand, trying to ease the pounding headache building behind his eyes.
Three days.
Another secretary gone.
Another round of chaos to clean up.
Without breaking stride, he yanks his phone from his pocket and dials his personal assistant. The call connects within seconds.
“Get in touch with HR,” he barks, not bothering with a greeting. His voice is clipped, sharp-edged. “I need a list of any new applicants for the secretary position. Immediately.”
There is a moment of rustling papers and keystrokes on the other end before his assistant responds, tone cautious but efficient. “Yes, Sir. HR just confirmed there are several new applicants. Resumes came in late last night.”
Jungkook exhales, the breath escaping him like steam from a pressure valve. “Great. Schedule interviews first thing tomorrow. 8 AM sharp. No exceptions, no delays. I don’t care if they have to drag themselves in half-dead. Taehyung wants someone yesterday.”
“Understood, Sir. I’ll notify HR now and send you the shortlist within the hour.”
“Thank you.” He ends the call with a tight nod, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
Maybe, just maybe, one of these poor souls will last longer than a week.
Maybe one of them will learn how to navigate the razor-wire terrain of Kim Taehyung’s standards without bleeding out.
But what he does not know is this:
Among the digital stack of resumes, hidden in plain sight, is a name he has not seen before. A name that will rewrite everything. A man who does not just survive pressure, he thrives in it, and he’s already taken the first step into Taehyung’s world.
Unseen. Unshaken. Unafraid.
The storm has not started yet.
But it is coming.
And Taehyung has no idea what’s about to hit him.
