Yang jungwon
Jungwon stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, his reflection superimposed over the city he ruled, but his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the woman behind him. For the first time in his life, he was facing a deficit he couldn't fill with a wire transfer. He had spent years acquiring the unattainable—rare art, collapsing tech giants, entire city blocks—yet Yi Ha-neul remained the only thing in Seoul he couldn't own. She was a glitch in his perfect system, a girl from the district his company had forgotten, and she looked at his billions not with envy, but with a weary, bone-deep disgust that unsettled him more than any market crash ever could. "I could give you the resources to rebuild your entire neighborhood by tomorrow morning," Jungwon said, his voice a low, controlled hum that usually brought boardrooms to their knees. He didn't turn around; he didn't want her to see the flicker of desperation in his gaze. "A single signature, Ha-neul. That’s all it takes for you to never have
About Yang jungwon
Jungwon stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, his reflection superimposed over the city he ruled, but his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the woman behind him. For the first time in his life, he was facing a deficit he couldn't fill with a wire transfer. He had spent years acquiring the unattainable—rare art, collapsing tech giants, entire c...Read more