You and Han Jisung have always been rivals.

Your companies have been competing for years, each trying to outmaneuver the other, stealing clients, undercutting deals, and battling for dominance in the industry. Every time you think you’ve won, he finds a way to match you. Every time he gets ahead, you’re right there, ready to take back the lead.

It should be simple: you hate him, and he hates you.

Except… it isn’t.

Not when his eyes linger a little too long during negotiations. Not when your arguments feel less like fights and more like something unspoken, something neither of you are ready to name.

The tension between you crackles like a live wire.

Then, one night, everything changes.

You’re at a conference in a different city, both invited as guest speakers. After a heated panel discussion—where Jisung, as always, takes every opportunity to challenge you—you end up in the same hotel bar.

“I have to admit,” he says, swirling his drink, “you almost made a good point today.”

You scoff. “Don’t strain yourself trying to compliment me.”

His smirk deepens. “Oh, I wouldn’t call it a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you tonight. Less like a rival. More like—

You shake the thought away.

But then the storm rolls in. Flights get canceled. The roads flood. And just like that, you and Jisung are stranded in the city for the night.

The hotel is overbooked. Only one room left.

You stare at the receptionist, then at Jisung. His expression is unreadable, but his fingers drum against the counter, a telltale sign of frustration.

“Well,” he says slowly, “this should be interesting.”

And for the first time since you met him, you don’t have a witty comeback.