The Billionaires Gaze

Lee Hana stood across the street from the towering glass structure, her fingers tightening around the stack of files pressed against her chest.

JH Group Headquarters.

The building pierced the sky like a silent declaration of dominance—steel, glass, and power wrapped into one intimidating monument. Employees streamed in and out with practiced confidence, dressed in sharp suits and polished shoes, as if they belonged to this world.

Hana did not.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe.

It’s just one day, she reminded herself. Just one.

If her cousin Minji hadn’t called in sick at the last minute, Hana would be nowhere near this place. Minji had begged her over the phone, voice weak and apologetic, insisting it was only a temporary secretary position—easy work, no pressure. Just answer calls, organize documents, and stay invisible.

But now, standing before the headquarters of one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country, Hana felt painfully visible.

She adjusted her modest blouse, smoothed her skirt, and crossed the street.

The lobby was vast and gleaming, marble floors reflecting the light from the chandelier above. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and freshly brewed coffee. Hana’s heels clicked nervously as she approached the reception desk.

The receptionist barely glanced at her, scanning her name before sliding a visitor’s badge across the counter.

“Top floor,” she said curtly.

Hana nodded and headed toward the elevator, her heart pounding harder with each step.

Inside the elevator, she stared at her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her face looked pale, eyes wide with nerves. She didn’t belong here—she knew that. But today, she had no choice.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor.

Taking a deep breath, Hana stepped out and followed the signs toward the CEO’s office. With every step, Minji’s hurried instructions echoed in her head.

Don’t mess up. Don’t bother the boss. And whatever you do—do not draw attention.

Easy enough.

The office door was wide open.

Inside, Kang Jae-Hyun sat behind a massive mahogany desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him. Even seated, his presence dominated the room. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his posture rigid, composed, and unmistakably authoritative.

Hana hesitated at the threshold.

This was Kang Jae-Hyun—the billionaire CEO of JH Group. The man tabloids described as ruthless, cold, and untouchable. The man rumored to have built his empire with merciless precision.

She cleared her throat softly.

“Good morning, Mr. Kang,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m… I’m Minji’s cousin. I’ll be filling in for her today.”

He didn’t look up.

“I don’t have time for distractions,” he said flatly.

The words struck her like ice.

“Yes, sir,” Hana replied quickly.

She stepped forward, balancing a tray that held a cup of freshly brewed coffee and a stack of documents. Her palms were slightly damp, her grip unsteady. She placed the files carefully on the edge of his desk and turned to leave, eager to disappear into the background.

That was when disaster struck.

Her heel caught on the edge of the carpet.

Time slowed.

The tray tilted. The coffee cup slipped from her fingers, spinning helplessly through the air. Hana’s breath caught in her throat as she reached out instinctively, but it was too late.

The cup tipped.

Boiling black coffee splashed forward.

Straight onto Kang Jae-Hyun’s chest.

The liquid spread across his crisp white shirt, staining it instantly.

Silence.