Jungkook

—Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

New York greeted them with a wall of autumn rain. Water lashed down from the sky, turning Manhattan's streets into muddy rivers. It was from such a river, under the wheel of a passing taxi, that a fountain of icy mud erupted, covering Taehyung from head to toe.

They stood frozen under the entrance canopy—Taehyung, caked in clods of mud, and Jungkook, who had miraculously managed to jump away. The air around Taehyung literally crackled with rage. He was the heir to the Kim Hotel empire, a man whose word made boardrooms tremble and whose smile made socialites swoon. And now he stood there, covered in mud, shivering from the cold and humiliation, and a storm raged in his eyes, capable of wiping out both the taxi driver and this entire damned city.

Jungkook watched him—not the mask of the iron heir, but the one hiding behind it. He saw his long fingers tremble slightly from cold and anger. Everyone knew Taehyung the tyrant, but only Jungkook remembered the teenage Taehyung, secretly crying in frustration in the garden of his mansion after yet another failure imposed by his father.

Without a word, Jungkook unbuckled his coat—a long, sand-colored trench coat made of the finest wool, the only thing remaining dry on him. He wasn't rich like Taehyung. He was his shadow, his personal assistant. This coat was his most expensive purchase of the year, a symbol of his worth in its own right.

"What are you doing?" Taehyung hissed as Jungkook threw the coat over his shoulders, covering his dirty, wet jacket.

The warmth of the fabric burned against Taehyung's icy skin. The coat smelled of precious cedar and something elusively familiar—a calm that only Jungkook could emanate.

"So you don't catch a cold," Jungkook replied quietly, adjusting his collar. He now stood in only his wet jacket, streams of water dripping onto the pavement. "Otherwise, you won't be able to sign the contract with Mr. Park's company tomorrow."