Part : 2
Tittle : Introducing the man of power
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The ballroom buzzed, a hive of hushed conversations and clinking champagne glasses. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, glittering light across the opulent space, reflecting off the polished marble floor and the sequined gowns of the attendees. The air thrummed with the low murmur of anticipation, a sense of waiting for something significant.
Then, the music softened, and the spotlight on the stage intensified. The anchor, a woman with a practiced smile and a voice that carried across the room, stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, her voice ringing out over the crowd, "a round of applause, please, for the CEO of Jeon Enterprises, Jeon Jungkook!"
A hush fell over the room. The double doors at the far end of the ballroom swung open, and he entered. Jeon Jungkook.
He was a figure of imposing stature, tall and powerfully built, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He moved with a quiet confidence, a predator surveying his domain. His black tuxedo, impeccably tailored, seemed to absorb the light, making him appear even more formidable. His polished black shoes clicked softly against the marble floor, each step deliberate, measured.
His face, when seen in profile, revealed a sharp, angular jawline, hinting at a heart-shaped structure beneath. His upper lip was thin, a precise line, while his lower lip was fuller, adding a subtle sensuality to his otherwise austere features. A scattering of moles, small dark dots, adorned his face: one beneath his lower lip, another on his jaw, a faint one on his nose, one on his cheekbone, and a shadowed one on his neck, each adding a touch of unexpected vulnerability to his otherwise perfect features.
His eyes, dark and intense, scanned the room, taking in every detail, every face. His gaze held a weight, a silent command that drew attention and demanded respect. An expensive watch, a dark gleam against his pale wrist, and a heavy, intricately designed ring on his finger, subtly spoke of his wealth and status.
He didn't smile. He didn't need to. His presence alone was enough. An aura of power, of unassailable reputation, radiated from him, filling the space with an unspoken dominance. He moved through the crowd, a dark, magnetic force, drawing eyes and silencing whispers.
The room seemed to hold its breath as he made his way towards the stage, his every step a statement. He was a man accustomed to command, a man who expected and received deference. He was Jeon Jungkook, and he was here.
The spotlight, a stark white disc, illuminated Jeon Jungkook as he stood at the podium. His black tuxedo, a perfect fit, seemed to absorb the light, leaving him a silhouette against the glittering backdrop of the ballroom. His posture was rigid, his shoulders squared, conveying an unwavering sense of control.
"My path," he began, his voice a low, resonant baritone that echoed through the silent room, "was not paved with inherited privilege. It was forged in the crucible of relentless ambition." His obsidian eyes, dark and piercing, scanned the crowd, a silent inventory of their worth. "Jeon Enterprises stands as a testament to that ambition, a monument built on calculated risks and unwavering resolve."
His words were clipped, precise, each syllable a sharp, polished stone. There was no inflection, no warmth, only the cold, hard certainty of a man who knew his own power. "I owe no apologies, and I offer no explanations. My success speaks for itself."
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, a testament to the sheer force of his personality. He stepped down from the podium, his movements fluid and controlled, like a predator descending from its perch.
A throng of individuals, their faces etched with a mixture of admiration and trepidation, attempted to engage him. They offered compliments, sought business advice, tried to break through his icy exterior.
"A remarkable speech, Mr. Jeon," one man stammered, his hand outstretched.
"Adequate," Jeon Jungkook replied, his voice flat, his gaze unwavering.
"Perhaps we could discuss a potential partnership?" a woman ventured, her voice trembling slightly.
"Unlikely," he responded, his eyes flicking to her briefly before returning to scan the room.
"Just a moment of your time, Mr. Jeon..." another began, only to be cut off by a curt, "No."
His left hand remained firmly ensconced in his trouser pocket, a subtle but unmistakable gesture of dismissal. His right hand held a stemmed glass of deep red wine, the liquid swirling silently as he moved. He sipped occasionally, his movements precise and measured, never spilling a drop. His jawline, sharp and defined, was set in a rigid line, his expression unreadable.
He moved through the crowd like a phantom, a dark, magnetic force that drew attention yet remained untouchable. His aura, a palpable weight of power and authority, silenced any lingering whispers. He was a master of control, a man who commanded respect without uttering a single unnecessary word. He was Jeon Jungkook, and he was a force of nature.
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To be continued~