The city of Seoul sprawled beneath him like a glittering carcass, veins of traffic glowing red in the dark. Kang Jinhyuk leaned against the floor-to-ceiling glass of his penthouse, crystal tumbler in hand, swirling the rich amber of twenty-year Yamazaki. From this height, the people below were nothing more than insects—tiny scuttling shapes he could crush with a whisper.
Two years.Two years since his own family had ripped him from the throne they'd groomed him to inherit, like a rotting tooth they couldn't wait to pull. Two years since he'd watched them hold emergency press conferences, faces carefully schooled into grief and disappointment as they disowned him to protect the Kang conglomerate's "honor."
A bitter laugh scraped his throat. Honor.They had sold him out faster than any rival ever could.
His phone buzzed on the marble countertop. Without looking, he reached over and tapped to accept. A sleek, deferential voice came through his wireless earpiece.
"Chairman Kang," said Lee, his personal legal bulldog. "Nyx Entertainment's full acquisition paperwork is complete. As of 9 PM tonight, all assets, trademarks, and executive controls are under your private holding. Congratulations, sir."
Jinhyuk exhaled a slow breath.The ice in his glass cracked.
Nyx Entertainment.A mid-tier idol agency on the brink of bankruptcy, riddled with debts, tainted by rumors of underage sponsor deals. Exactly the kind of bleeding carcass he could reshape with a few savage cuts.
"Good," he drawled. His voice was low, smooth as polished onyx. "Tell them to prepare for an executive board meeting tomorrow. I want the entire C-suite groveling on their knees when I walk in."
"Yes, sir."
The line clicked dead.Jinhyuk tossed back the last of his whiskey, savoring the smoky burn, then set the glass down with a soft clink. Outside, the city pulsed with promise. He could almost smell the sweat of desperation rolling off the hundreds of industry parasites who'd once smirked at his downfall.
A memory slithered up from the past — a banquet hall drenched in gold, crystal chandeliers blazing. Han Yura, drunk on cheap champagne and schadenfreude, throwing her head back to laugh when the first scandal broke. Her pretty throat exposed. Her words like knives:
"What, oppa? You really thought you'd be Kang Group's next emperor? Look at you now. Pathetic."
Her laughter still rang in his skull.But tomorrow, she'd laugh very differently — if she could even breathe.
He moved to the sleek black desk dominating the center of his living room. On the pristine glass surface, several files lay open, illuminated by the soft glow of a designer lamp. Jinhyuk's sharp eyes swept over them, lips curling as he traced familiar names.
Han Yura.Currently under investigation for tax discrepancies, her new agency drowning in lawsuits from unpaid staff.Perfect.
Park Doyoon.A rival agency CEO who once bragged to the press about how easily the Kang heir had fallen.Interesting. He had a sex tape of Doyoon's wife begging a nightclub DJ to tie her up — hadn't decided yet if he'd use it.
And finally:Kang Dohyun.His cousin. The rat who orchestrated his fall.Who sat now in Jinhyuk's rightful chair at Kang Group's headquarters, surrounded by trembling directors who'd once bowed to Jinhyuk.
Not for long, he thought coldly.
He clicked open a secure folder on his tablet. Financial statements, video footage, discreet chatter from private security teams — a carefully curated web of ruin. Each thread ready to pull tight around a different throat.
A knock broke the silence.The heavy double doors swung open, and Lee himself entered, impeccably dressed, bowing low.
"Forgive the intrusion, Chairman. But... there is someone here insisting on a meeting tonight. A Miss Han Yura."
Jinhyuk's eyebrow ticked up.
"That desperate already?"
"It appears so. Her manager tried calling repeatedly. When we didn't respond, she came directly."
For a moment, Jinhyuk just let the silence coil. Then he smiled — a thin, sharklike twist of lips that never touched his eyes.
"Send her up. And Lee... make sure no cameras catch her leaving."
Lee dipped his head, wisely hiding the faint tremor in his shoulders.
"Of course, sir."
By the time Han Yura stepped in, Jinhyuk was once again by the windows, hands in his pockets, the city blazing behind him. Her reflection was small, fragile in the glass — perfect hair, designer dress, the faint tremor in her clutching hands betraying her.
She tried to smile. It cracked around the edges.
"Jinhyuk oppa... it's been so long. I—"
"Don't call me that." His voice cut through her syrupy tone like a scalpel."You lost the right to that name two years ago."
Her mouth opened. Closed. She looked down, throat working. He could almost hear her heartbeat racing.
"I— I didn't come here to fight. I... my agency is going through difficulties, and we've always been close. I thought maybe, with your new investments—"
"Stop."
She flinched.Jinhyuk turned to face her fully, one hand lifting to lazily adjust his cufflinks.
"Your agency is dying because you latched onto weak men. You thought you could ride their cocks to the top, didn't you? Pity they couldn't even pay their taxes."
Yura's cheeks burned bright red, tears starting in her eyes.
"Please... I didn't know. I was stupid. But I can be useful to you now—"
"Useful," he repeated, tasting the word like fine wine.Then he moved, slow and predatory, until he was inches from her face. She had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes.
"Tomorrow morning, come to my office at Nyx. You'll sign a contract that makes you mine in every sense. Your voice, your body, your precious little public image — all under my thumb. Or you can walk out now, and I'll make sure the next headline Seoul wakes up to has your name next to the word 'prostitution.'"
Yura's lips parted, a tiny whimper breaking free. Her legs actually buckled for a heartbeat before she caught herself on trembling knees.
"I... I'll come. I'll sign whatever you want."
Jinhyuk's hand rose, brushing a tear off her cheek almost tenderly.Then he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.
"Good girl. Tomorrow, you start repaying me for that laugh."
When she left, clutching her purse like a lifeline, Jinhyuk went back to the window.Seoul spread out below him, oblivious to how close it was to dancing under his strings.
Let them crawl, he thought, dark amusement curling through his chest.This city turned its back on me. Now it's my turn to bend it over.