I have two different speeds in my world: the thundering signals of code across my screen and the slow, glacial creep of my older sister's medical debt, which right now seem to be screaming at me.
For all the obvious flaws within Aethelgard Prime, there it was-never all that well-disguised-in plain sight. I had come across it weeks ago-a ghost in the machine that could save the company billions or sink it entirely. I call it "Silent Fracture." And I, and I alone, seem to see it.
* Buzz. Buzz-buzz. *
My personal mobile was buzzing on the table in front of me; I couldn't sleep either. The caller ID wasn't a number anymore; it was a feeling. A cold fist in my gut. *Seoul General. Billing.*
I swallowed the acid rising in my throat and hit "ignore." Again. My savings are a ghost town, my credit is a war zone, and Mina's smile is the only currency that still holds any value.
*Chime.*
That one simple sound was enough to make me feel as though a gun had been fired inside the otherwise quiet hum of the data pit. A stark red notification would flash upon my work monitor.
TO: Park Sora, Data Analytics, Level 2 FROM: Office of the CEO, Floor 60 SUBJECT: Your Immediate Presence is Required.
Blood was replaced with ice water in my veins. The sixtieth floor. His floor, Kang Jihoon. The man in the annual report whose picture looked carved out of ice. No one was summoned from the basement to the penthouse. Ever.
*They know.*
That was gonna be a bullet. They knew I would pierce their golden project. They'd see those digital breadcrumbs. I was going to be unemployed, uninsured, and completely ruined.
So the elevator ride up is a sort of ascension into another universe. The air gets thinner, colder. When the doors slide open, all is silent, polished stone, along with a view of Seoul that makes one feel he owns the world. And a receptionist with a genuinely phony smile points me toward a pair of doors that look like they guard a throne room.
He stood with his back to me, a dark silhouette against the skyline. Kang Jihoon. He didn't turn.
"Park Sora."
His voice was low, flat. It wasn't a greeting. It was an identification.
"CEO-nim," I managed, my voice a tight whisper.
He turned, and I understood why they called him the Reaper of Aethelgard. He was young, impossibly handsome, but his eyes… they were the color of a winter sky just before a storm. They scanned me, and I felt like a bug under a microscope. A very insignificant, very disposable bug.
"You are more clever than your position suggests," he said, picking up a tablet before me. "SNU valedictorian. Yet here you are, hiding in Level 2 for three years." His eyes flicked up, pinning me. "And you're drowning in debt."
The embarrassment was a physical burn. He knew. He knew everything.
"That's personal," I said, the words tasting feeble.
"Nothing is private when I'm making an investment." He put the tablet down. "I have a proposition. A business arrangement."
"Sir?"
"I need you to be my fiancée."
I actually laughed. It was a short, choked sound of disbelief. "I'm sorry, what?"
"A contractual engagement. Twelve months." He said it like he was ordering lunch. "My grandfather's will has a tedious clause about marital stability. I need a facade. You are... convenient. No social ties. Desperate. Easily controlled."
The words were like slaps. Convenient. Desperate.
"Oh, you want me to *rent* you?" The audacity of it stole my breath.
"I buy your time and discretion," he corrected, holding out a document thicker than my wrist. "In return, I will erase every single won of your debt. Immediately."
My heart stopped. The number was a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
"And your sister," he continued, his voice cutting through my shock like a scalpel. "Mina. She will be moved to St. Mary's today. Full team. Experimental treatments. Everything. For the duration of the contract, and for one year after."
The room tilted. It was salvation wrapped in barbed wire but not an offer at all.
"And after?" I whispered, my mouth dry as dust.
"We go our separate ways. You sign an NDA that would make a spy blush. You break it, you lose everything." He took a step closer, and I could smell the faint, clean aroma of his cologne. It smelled like money and power. "Let me be perfectly clear, Ms. Park. This is a transaction. There will be no romance. I am your employer. You are the employee. Do you understand?"
I looked at his hand, holding the contract. I thought of Mina, of the fear in her eyes during her last dialysis session. I thought of the collectors' calls that haunted my dreams.
My pride was a luxury I'd pawned long ago.
I reached out and took the document. The paper was cool and heavy. A shackle made of promises.
"I understand the terms," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Something flickered across his face before it disappeared behind the mask: triumph? "The lawyers are next door. You have one hour."
He turned back to the window, dismissing me. I was already gone.
I will walk out of that office with my future sold. I had just made a deal with the most dangerous man in Seoul to save the only person I loved. And the terrifying part? My own inkling was that the contract was the easiest part of the deal. The real problem was the man himself. And the blazing thought that I might have just met my match.