~[Chapter 5] The Game~
Alex couldn't focus during the morning meeting.
The board members droned on about quarterly projections, but all he could see was that woman's face. The poster. Park Ji-hoon's smile in the photograph, so different from the terror in his eyes that night.
We have a little daughter.
"Mr. Lee?"
Alex blinked. Everyone was staring at him.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Mrs. Choi's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"I asked if you've reviewed the severance packages for the restructuring."
Severance packages. Such a clean word for destroying lives.
"I'll need more time to review them properly."
"Time we don't have," Mr. Kim interjected. "The distributors are getting impatient."
"Then they'll have to wait." Alex's voice came out sharper than intended. "I'm not signing anything until I understand exactly what what they are."
Tension rippled through the room.
Mrs. Choi leaned back in her chair, studying him with interest.
"How thorough of you."
The meeting ended shortly after. As everyone filed out, Moon appeared at his elbow with a tablet.
"Your schedule for this afternoon, Mr. Lee. And you have a call with the legal team at three."
"Cancel it."
Moon's expression didn't change. "May I ask why?"
"Because I said so."
Something flickered in Moon's eyes. Amusement? Irritation? It vanished too quickly to tell.
"As you wish." Moon made a note on the tablet. "Will you be leaving the office?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Standard protocol. Security needs to know your location."
Security. Watching. Always watching.
"I'll be in my office. Alone."
Moon bowed slightly. "Of course."
_____
Alone in his office, Alex pulled up the employee database on his computer. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.
This was stupid. Dangerous.
He typed: PARK JI-HOON
The file loaded. Employee photo. Work history. Performance reviews—all excellent.
Then: STATUS: TERMINATED
Date of termination: Three weeks ago.
Reason: VOLUNTARY RESIGNATION
Voluntary.
Alex's stomach turned. He clicked deeper into the file, looking for something—anything.
A knock on the door made him jump. He quickly closed the window.
"Come in."
Mr. Max entered, carrying lunch on a tray. "You skipped breakfast again."
"I'm not—"
"Hungry. Yes, I know the script." Mr. Max set the tray down firmly. "Eat anyway."
Alex stared at the food without moving.
Mr. Max sat across from him.
"The woman outside this morning. With the poster."
Alex's jaw tightened.
"Security removed her," Mr. Max continued carefully. "But she'll be back. People like that always come back."
"People like what?"
"People who want answers."
Mr. Max's eyes were knowing.
"People who won't stop until they get them."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"What do you know about Park Ji-hoon?" Alex asked quietly.
Mr. Max was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was calm. Careful.
"I know that some questions are dangerous to ask in this building. And I know that you've been asking them."
"Someone has to."
"Why does it have to be you?"
"Because everyone else is pretending nothing happened!"
The outburst surprised them both. Alex pressed his hands flat against the desk, trying to steady himself.
Mr. Max stood slowly.
"Your father built this company from nothing. Whatever you think you know—whatever you think you saw—there are things you don't understand. Contexts you're missing."
"Then help me understand."
"I can't." Pain flashed across Mr. Max's face. "I've served your family for thirty years. That means something. It means loyalty. Even when..."
He didn't finish.
"Even when what?"
Mr. Max slowly walked to the door, then paused.
"The world isn't divided into good people and bad people, Alexander. It's far more complicated than that. Your father—he's made choices. Hard choices. Choices that haunt him."
"That's not an answer."
"No," Mr. Max agreed. "But it's all I can give you."
He left.
Alex sat there alone with his untouched lunch and too many questions. He was still trying to deal with the protesters, the allegations, now this.
_____
That evening, Alex worked late. The building had emptied out, leaving only security and a skeleton crew.
He was deep in financial records when his office door opened.
Moon stepped in, still immaculate despite the late hour.
"You're still here,"
Alex said, slightly
looking up and back to his work.
"So are you."
"I have work to do."
"So do I."
Moon moved further into the room.
"My job is to assist you, Mr. Lee. That's rather difficult when you dismiss me at every turn."
Alex finally looked up.
"I didn't ask for an assistant."
"No. Someone thought you needed one." Moon's expression was carefully neutral. "Should they be concerned?"
The question felt loaded. But different from before—Moon didn't know. He was fishing.
"I can handle my responsibilities."
"I'm not talking about your work."
Moon came closer, his voice lowering.
"You look like you haven't slept in days. You barely eat. You jump at every sound."
"I don't need you to psychoanalyze me."
"I'm not."
Moon's tone was measured, professional. But there was something underneath—curiosity, maybe.
"I'm trying to understand my employer. So I can do my job properly."
"Your job is to schedule meetings and handle paperwork."
"My job Mr Lee," Moon said quietly, "is whatever you need it to be."
The words hung between them, ambiguous.
Alex studied Moon carefully. Every instinct screamed that this man was dangerous. That his appearance in his life was no coincidence.
But Alex didn't seem to know the full picture.
"Why were you really at my graduation?"
Alex asked.
Moon's expression didn't change.
"I told you. A friend was graduating the same day."
"Which friend?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does if you're lying."
A flicker of something crossed Moon's face. Respect, maybe.
"You're more observant than I expected."
"That's not an answer."
Moon smiled slightly.
"No. It's not."
He moved toward the window, looking out at the city lights.
"Let's just say... I have an interest in talented young people. Your result was impressive."
"You're still lying."
"Perhaps." Moon turned back to face him.
"But we all have our secrets, don't we, Mr. Lee?"
The way he said it—not quite a threat, but not innocent either.
"What do you want?"
Alex asked.
"Want?"
Moon tilted his head.
"I want to do my job well. I want to understand the man I'm working for. And I want..."
He paused, something genuine flickering across his features.
"I want to figure out why someone like you looks so haunted."
Alex's breath caught.
"There's fear in your eyes,"
Moon continued softly.
"Fear of something. Something you're carrying."
He took a step closer. Placing his hands on the table.
"I recognize it because I've seen it before. In mirrors."
The confession felt too honest. Too raw.
"You don't know anything about me," Alex said.
"No," Moon agreed. "But I'd like to."
They stared at each other for what felt like eternity. Alex's pulse hammered in his ears.
Then Moon pulled back, the professional mask sliding into place again.
"It's late. You should go home, Mr. Lee. Get some rest."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
Moon's voice was firm but not unkind.
"And pretending you are won't change that."
He bowed slightly and walked to the door stepping halfway through before he suddenly stopped. He turned back around, as if he'd just remembered something.
"Oh, the woman with the poster outside this morning. Park Ji-hoon's wife, I believe."
Moon's tone was casual, almost offhand.
"Security removed her. Apparently she's been coming by regularly, asking about her missing husband."
Alex's blood ran cold. He tried to keep his expression neutral.
"I see."
"Security has orders to remove her again if she returns. More forcefully next time."
Moon paused, his eyes meeting Alex's.
"Though... if you wanted me to look into it—into what happened to Mr. Park—I could. It's within my capacity as your assistant to gather information you might need."
The offer hung in the air, carefully worded.
"Why would I need that information?" Alex asked slowly.
Moon shrugged slightly.
"You're new to the company. Understanding past employee situations could be... relevant. For context."
His expression remained professional, but there was something in his eyes.
"It's your decision, of course. But just say the word and I'll compile whatever I can find."
"I'll think about it," Alex said finally.
Moon nodded. "Of course."
He shut the door behind him.
Alex sat frozen in his chair, his mind racing.
Moon was offering to help. But why? Was it genuine? Or was this part of whatever game he was playing—whatever reason he was really here?
Outside, the city glittered like broken glass.
Somewhere out there, a woman was searching for her missing husband.
A husband Alex had watched get tortured.
______
Alex tried to focus on the financial reports in front of him, but the numbers blurred together. Park Ji-hoon. The protests. The drugs allegations. Kim Moony.
Every thought was just colliding in his head.
By the time Alex finished—or gave up, really, it was almost midnight. He gathered his things and stepped out of his office to find Moon already waiting by the elevator, jacket on, car keys in hand.
"I'm your driver tonight,"
Moon said simply.
"Mr. Max went home hours ago."
The drive to the estate was quiet. Rain had started again, drumming against the windshield. Alex stared out the window, exhaustion pulling at his bones.
When they arrived, Alex hesitated before getting out of the car.
"I still have some work to finish," he said. "Files I need to review tonight. Can you come in and assist me?"
Moon's lips slightly curled up into a smile. "Of course, Mr. Lee."
The mansion was mostly dark. The staff had retired for the night. Alex led Moon to the parlor, a comfortable room with leather couches, bookshelves, and a large desk by the window.
"Make yourself comfortable,"
Alex said, gesturing to the couch while he moved to the small bar cart.
"Tea?"
"Yes sir, thank you."
Alex made two cups. He handed one to Moon and sat at the desk, spreading out the files.
Moon settled on the couch with his own tablet, ready to cross-reference whatever Alex needed.
They worked in companionable silence for a while. Just the sound of papers rustling, keyboards clicking, rain against the windows.
Alex's eyes were starting to burn. The words on the page kept swimming.
"I need a break,"
he muttered, standing abruptly.
"I'm going to take a shower. I'll be back."
Moon nodded.
Alex stood under the shower longer than necessary, letting it wash away the tension in his shoulders. When he finally stepped out, wrapped a towel around his waist, and looked at himself in the mirror, he looked almost human again.
He dried off and put on his pajamas, a soft cotton pants and a matching button-up shirt. He didn't bother with the buttons, leaving them completely undone. It was late. He was tired. And it was his house.
When Alex came back downstairs to the parlor, Moon was still on the couch, but he'd removed his jacket and loosened his tie. He looked up when Alex entered—
And stopped.
His eyes caught on Alex's collar, the exposed skin, the casual disarray of someone comfortable in their own space. Something flickered across Moon's face. His gaze traveled down, then quickly back up.
He cleared his throat and looked away, suddenly very interested in his tablet screen.
Alex moved back to the desk, acutely aware of Moon's gaze following him. He could feel it like a physical touch.
He sat down and tried to focus on the files again. But the energy in the room had shifted. Charged.
Alex glanced up and caught Moon staring—not at the tablet, but at him. When their eyes met, Moon didn't look away immediately. He couldn't. For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Moon looked away first.
They both went back to their tablets.
Moon's lips curved into an amused smile.
"You know, I think you should button your shirt up."
"Why?"
Alex looked up from his papers.
"Does it bother you?"
"Hmm." Moon tilted his head,
pretending to consider it seriously. His eyes sparkled with something playful.
"It's a bit distracting, actually. Hard to focus on work when my boss looks so... casual."
He said it lightly, teasingly, like it was a joke. But there was something underneath.
Alex felt his pulse quicken. He should button up. Should maintain professionalism. Should tell Moon to focus on his own work—
The sound of breaking glass shattered the moment.
The parlor door burst open.
Five masked men in black flooded into the room. Each with a weapon.