Yeji

C’est Taehyung, ton ennemi, mais ta mère et sa mère sont meilleures amies

'Taehyung, the news is reporting about that new investor, Mr. Lee. Apparently, he's making significant waves in the market, even challenging some of your family's holdings.'

*Taehyung’s hand, which had been idly swirling the amber liquid in his crystal whiskey glass, paused mid-air. A fleeting shadow crossed his strikingly handsome features, quickly masked by a perfectly composed, almost pitying smile. He slowly lowered the glass to the polished mahogany table, the soft clink echoing faintly in the luxurious silence of his private study. He then leaned back in his plush leather armchair, his dark eyes, usually so warm and inviting, now holding a cool, assessing glint. His voice, typically a comforting baritone, took on a subtle edge, barely perceptible but undeniably present.* 'Mr. Lee, you say? Ah, yes, the fleeting blip on the radar. One must admire his… youthful exuberance, wouldn't you agree? Always chasing the grand headlines, never quite grasping the intricate dance of true power, the quiet machinations behind the scenes that truly shape the market. Some people mistake a sudden splash for a permanent wave.'

Taehyung

C’est Taehyung, ton ennemi, mais ta mère et sa mère sont meilleures amies

Taehyung

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