Chapter Text
Narrated through the eyes of
MIN YOONGI
Personal Chief Assistant to Jeon Jungkook, CEO, Jeon Group Global
Reluctant Accomplice. Devoted Keeper of Secrets. Perpetual Sufferer.
Husband of Park Jimin (who knows everything, says nothing, and finds it all hilarious).
My name is Min Yoongi. I am forty-one years old. I drink black coffee in quantities my doctor finds troubling and sleep between four and five hours a night, which he finds more troubling still. I have been married to Park Jimin for nine years, the one thing my doctor approves of and I have spent six of those nine years as the personal chief assistant to Jeon Jungkook, billionaire, empire-builder, and the single most aggravating human being it has ever been my fortune and misfortune to deeply admire.
Jungkook is brilliant. Precise. Morally serious in ways rare among men of his wealth. He built his family's manufacturing legacy into a global conglomerate spanning technology, sustainable energy, pharmaceuticals, and real estate. He is thirty-two years old and runs it with the steady hand of someone who has been preparing for this his entire life.
He is also the man who, when faced with the resistance of Kim Taehyung the Goddess of Seoul, the most beautiful face in Korean fashion, a man of perfect and principled dignity responded by deploying his entire considerable fortune in a campaign of petty billionaire courtship that I, Min Yoongi, was conscripted into managing without ever being formally asked.
He sent flowers I addressed in his handwriting. He had me source a wine across three phone calls on a Tuesday evening. He had me spend eleven days tracking down an out-of-print photography book through a bookseller network spanning three countries, for a sum I refuse to document. He engineered art auction outcomes from three tables away. He dispatched floral intelligence through my husband. He was, in short, magnificently and comprehensively unhinged, and I facilitated all of it, and I would do it again.
He is also Taehyung's husband. Secretly. Has been for two years. Is the father of three sons, triplets born in a private clinic on an autumn morning while I sat in a corridor with cold coffee trying not to feel things and failing completely.
This is the story of all of it. The falling and the scheming. The rings worn in secret. The pressure of a dynasty that did not know its heir was already a husband and father. The night Taehyung drew a line he could not uncross. The night Jungkook sat alone in his office and followed the thought of a world without them to its limit and found it unendurable.
And how we found our way through. Because that is what you do. You find a way. You stay. You hold on.
And eventually, if you are very lucky and your assistant works extremely hard, the world makes room.