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Beneath the billonaire's gaze Novel Cover

Beneath the billonaire's gaze

Hana’s life takes a sharp turn when an error leads her to Kang Jae-Hyun, Seoul’s most formidable CEO. To support her family, she enters a fake engagement with the cold billionaire to protect his empire. However, their business arrangement becomes perilous as genuine emotions emerge. Beneath their public personas, both hide deep scars and grief. As enemies threaten them and secrets rise, Hana must discover if their bond was a mere contract or destiny.
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Chapter 2

JH Group Headquarters, Seoul — 9:15 a.m.

Lee Hana stood in front of the glass elevator, her reflection staring back at her like a question she wasn’t sure she could answer.

The JH Group tower rose above her—cold, sleek, and intimidating. Every inch of the building screamed ambition and control. This wasn’t just a workplace. It was a battlefield.

“Just pretend you’ve done this a thousand times,” she whispered, adjusting the strap of her tote bag.

She stepped inside the elevator.

She was ten minutes late.

The doors slid open on the thirty-seventh floor—Executive Management.

The air felt heavier here. Quieter. Like even sound knew better than to linger.

“Miss Lee Hana?”

A woman in a fitted navy suit approached her, a headset clipped neatly to her ear.

“Yes,” Hana replied quickly. “I’m here to start work. Temporary secretary for—”

“CEO Kang Jae-Hyun,” the woman finished crisply. “Follow me.”

Hana’s stomach dropped.

Straight to the lion’s den.

She followed silently, heels echoing against the polished floor as they passed frosted glass walls and minimalist art pieces that probably cost more than her yearly rent.

The assistant knocked once and opened the door.

“Sir, your temporary secretary has arrived.”

“Let her in.”

Hana stepped forward.

Kang Jae-Hyun stood near the window, his back to her, hands tucked into his pockets. The city stretched endlessly beneath him.

“I remember you,” he said without turning.

Her heart skipped. “S-sir?”

“You spilled Americano on my shirt three days ago.”

She winced. “I’m really sorry. Again.”

He turned slowly.

Up close, he was even more intimidating—sharp jawline, dark eyes devoid of warmth, composure carved into every movement.

“You’re late,” he said calmly.

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Silence stretched.

Then—“I’ll give you one week. Prove your worth.”

Relief flooded her. “Thank you, sir.”

“There’s an NDA on your desk,” he continued. “Sign it. Everything that happens on this floor stays here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And,” his gaze sharpened, “there will be no personal relationships with anyone here. Especially not me.”

Her cheeks burned. “Understood.”

He dismissed her with a nod.

Hana moved to the desk outside his office and opened the orientation folder—company rules, emergency procedures, legal clauses dense enough to scare off lawsuits.

She signed.

Her phone buzzed.

Kang Jae-Hyun:

Meeting with Yoon & Kim Legal moved to 2 p.m. Update schedule.

She glanced up. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t looked at her.

So he texts instead of speaking…

She got to work.

12:30 p.m. — Lunch Hour

Most of the floor emptied. Hana barely noticed.

“Don’t forget to eat.”

She looked up, startled.

“You’ve been working nonstop,” Jae-Hyun said, already grabbing his coat. “Don’t faint before five.”

He left.

She stared after him, then shook her head, smiling slightly.

She pulled out her modest lunch—simple, homemade.

“New girl?”

She turned to see a man in a gray suit, warm eyes and an easy smile.

“Seo-Jun. Marketing Director.”

“Lee Hana.”

He chuckled. “You’re brave. Not many last a week with the Ice King.”

“Ice King?”

“You’ll see.”

They laughed quietly.

Unseen behind closed blinds, Kang Jae-Hyun watched.

Then he closed them.

3:00 p.m.

“Bring the Kim Legal file. Now.”

She complied.

“Don’t talk to Seo-Jun too much,” Jae-Hyun said without looking up.

“Is that a rule?”

A faint smirk. “Should I add it?”

Her heart skipped.

Boardroom — 4:55 p.m.

When a senior executive tried to blame Hana, Jae-Hyun shut it down instantly.

“That mistake wasn’t hers.”

The room fell silent.

Hana didn’t breathe.

Afterward, she whispered, “Thank you.”

“I don’t tolerate incompetence,” he replied. “Especially not misplaced blame.”

6:30 p.m.

“Hana.”

Her name. From his lips.

“Tomorrow. 9 a.m. Sharp.”

They rode the elevator down in silence.

At the lobby, he said quietly, “Eat something real tonight.”

She watched him leave.

“…Why does that sound like a threat and concern at the same time?”

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