✓ GREEDY HEARTS | JAY

1 - Rolls Royce Phantom

JAY'S POV

"Mr. Park, the car will be delivered tomorrow. Should I let them know that you'll be available to receive it?" Yang Jungwon says when he steps inside my office. I tear my gaze from the documents in front of me to meet his eyes. He's dressed in a sharp, charcoal-gray suit that fits him well. 

"Yes. I'll be available tomorrow. I need to inspect the car personally, it's a Rolls-Royce Phantom, after all." I say with a hint of a smile, my eyes returning to the glossy brochure for the luxury sedan that sits on my desk. It's been a few months since I ordered this car and waiting to lay my eyes on it has felt like an eternity. "You look good. Nice suit," I add, giving him a once-over.

The way he just bows and nods humbly almost makes me roll my eyes. One would say we haven't known each other for our whole lives. The history between us is an intriguing one, to say the least. We once were classmates and I hated him to the core because he was the biggest fucking loser. Our personalities clashed like fire and ice, and we were often at each other's throats. Yet, as I stare at him now, I think we're pretty good at hiding the fact that we once despised each other.

"Thank you, sir." He says, jotting down a note on his tablet. "I'll make sure the paperwork is included as well when the car is delivered. Everything will be in order for your inspection." He's so dedicated to his work that even I nod in approval. After all, I would never hire anyone who didn't meet my exacting standards and he exceeds it somehow. 

"Good," I reply, leaning back in my chair, my fingers drumming on the mahogany desk. "I expect nothing less than perfection." Maybe my toxic trait is being a perfectionist, but in a world where money is the name of the game, it's a trait I can't afford to let go of.

Jungwon bows once more and then heads for the door, his footsteps echoing lightly in my tastefully decorated office. The colors of the room are muted, and the fine art on the walls adds an air of sophistication to the space. I find myself looking around the place when I spot something that intrudes the usual elegance of my office—a fucking red suit. The sight of it startles me, and my fingers, which had been rhythmically drumming on the desk, abruptly still.

"What the fuck?" I mutter under my breath, my annoyance growing. I can't help but cringe inwardly as I wonder how that eyesore could have found its way into my office. My disdain for the color red is well-known, even to my closest associates, and they know better than to bring it into my life. So who the hell thought this was a good idea- oh. I don't need more words to figure out who the likely culprit might be. The new assistant. "Miss Kim." 

When I call her name, my new assistant, enters my office. She stands before me with her fingers fidgeting like she's about to commit some heinous crime. "Sir, you called for me." When I point at the red suit that's now hastily draped over one of the guest chairs, her eyes follow my gesture, and she gulps audibly. "I thought the suit would be to your preference."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, my fingers grazing my custom-made, charcoal-gray tie. "My preference? Red? Do I look like a clown to you? Did you expect me to go around wearing this- it's not even a subtle shade of red, it's a bright, eye-piercing red. Do you want me to walk around like a human traffic light?"

"No, sir... I-I apologize. It was an oversight on my part. I should have known better." I watch as she bows and I just press my tongue against my cheek and roll my eyes. She's young and, from what I've heard, quite talented. Perhaps a bit too eager to impress, though. "Should I take it away?"

"I mean what else am I going to do with it? Frame it on my wall as a reminder of your poor taste? Make sure it disappears from my sight and inform whoever chose that suit that I have no intention of wearing it. My wardrobe is not a fucking joke."