The last animated frame faded from the screen. For a few seconds, the whole meeting room was silent. The projector hummed softly, and the glow of a golden skyline lit the faces around the table.
For thirty-eight minutes, those faces had been filled with wonder. Jake and Desiree had taken the guests on a tour of a building that did not exist yet. They had flown through glass halls and past silver production lines. They had walked across a sunlit courtyard with a fountain in the middle and into a staff cafeteria with tall windows. They had even shown the lobby at night, with soft lanterns lighting a marble floor. Every detail had been rendered so perfectly that some of the investors had leaned forward as if they could touch the walls.
Now the screen showed a white slide with two simple words.
THANK YOU
Jake stood beside it with his hands folded in front of him. He took a deep breath, put on his friendliest smile, and turned to the room.
"That's the end of our presentation, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "Thank you for listening. Now, are there any questions, everyone?"
It was time for the Q&A, and it was the part Jake and Desiree had been dreading the most. The presentation was something they had practiced in front of a mirror a hundred times. The questions, on the other hand, could come from anywhere.
A hand rose into the air at the middle of the table.
"I have one question."
It was the same female director who had been the first to answer Julietta's question earlier, the one with the neat glasses and the small notebook. She was still holding her pen, and her notebook was now filled with tiny, careful handwriting.
Jake gestured to her with an open palm. "Please, stand up and speak your question, Ma'am."
The director rose from her seat and straightened her jacket. She glanced at her notes once, then looked up again.
"Well, I'm just curious," she said. "In your presentation, it says that the estimated cost of the project is twenty billion US dollars. That is a very big number. And no, I'm not underestimating our budget. But are you sure this is the final estimate? We don't know if the real cost will be higher. And we don't want a surprise that could damage our budget plan. You get me?"
Some of the other directors nodded. A few of the investors tapped their pens against the table. It was a question that many of them had been thinking about.
"Also, please don't be offended," the director added, lifting a hand. "This is a genuine question. Maybe the others are curious too about how you were able to reach an estimate like that. Maybe even Julietta."
Julietta, who was sitting at the head of the table with her chin resting on her hand, only smiled and said nothing.
Jake did not look offended at all. If anything, he looked relieved, because this was a question he had prepared for.
"Oh, no, no, no," he said, shaking his head with a friendly laugh. "It's all right to ask something like that. We really appreciate it. Most budget estimations are not perfectly accurate, which is exactly why they are called estimations. But please don't worry. As I mentioned in the presentation, we used the Bottom-Up Estimation method, which is mostly used for large sites like this one."
He picked up a small remote and clicked back several slides to a colorful chart. The chart showed hundreds of tiny boxes, each one connected to a bigger box above it.
"With Bottom-Up Estimation, we don't guess a total number at the start. Instead, we break the whole project into the smallest possible parts: every wall, every pipe, every light fixture. We estimate the cost of each small part separately. Then we add them all together to get the final total. It takes much more time, but it gives us a much more reliable number."
"I agree with him," Da-Eun said, chiming in from her seat. She gave the director a calm, professional nod. "We all know that Bottom-Up is the best for budget estimation because of its accuracy. It's much better than Top-Down and other methods. And I want to add that Bottom-Up has rarely failed when it comes to budget estimation. It has been known as the best choice for many years, especially in multi-billion-dollar companies."
The female director looked at the chart again. She tapped her pen against her chin, and then her shoulders relaxed.
"I see," she said. "Alright. Thank you for answering my question and clearing up my confusion, Mr. Bellovictor."
"You're welcome, Ma'am," Jake said, and he bowed his head slightly.
The director sat down. She wrote something short in her notebook and underlined it twice.
Desiree stepped forward and smiled at the room. "Alright. Who's the next person who wants to ask a question about our presentation? Anyone?"
More hands went up, one by one. A man from the investors' side asked about the timeline for the construction. An older director asked about the choice of building materials. Another investor wanted to know whether the animation could be shown to the officials in Beijing without any changes. Jake and Desiree answered every one of them with confidence. When one of them did not know the answer, the other filled the gap smoothly, and Da-Eun jumped in whenever the question was about company policy.
It took quite a while. But it was clear to everyone in the room that Julietta had been right when she praised them. Their CGI animations were among the best anyone had ever seen, and they also had a talent for explaining things clearly. They never rushed, and they never dodged a question. By the end, even the most skeptical of the investors was nodding with approval.
Then, after twenty-four minutes, a deep voice spoke from the end of the table.
A hand had been raised, slowly and without hurry. It belonged to Otto.
Desiree noticed him and felt her stomach twist a little. She had been avoiding looking in his direction for the last half hour. Mr. Ahlgrymm was the kind of man who made a room feel colder just by sitting in it.
She gestured at him with a polite smile. "Please stand and speak your question, sir."
Otto stood up. He was a very tall man, and his shadow fell across the table and stretched toward the screen. He buttoned his suit jacket and cleared his throat.
"Mhm," he said, coughing once. "This is not a question. It is a criticism."
"Huh?" Da-Eun raised an eyebrow. She looked at Jake and Desiree, and both of them tried to look calm.
Otto's magenta eyes moved across the screen, where the final slide was still showing. "As I saw in your presentation, the site is very well animated, and I admit it is very well built. But I am curious about the location. Beijing? Really?"
He turned to the room. "Shouldn't we choose a different city, like Guangzhou? Why choose Beijing of all places? We have many competitors there. And as I can see, the lot reserved for us is not even a hundred percent secured. It could be sabotaged. It is not clear that it is safe, either for the manufacturing of our products or for our future employees."
His voice was flat and steady. It was not the voice of a man who was merely making a comment. It was the voice of someone who had already decided that the answer was wrong.
A murmur went through the room. Some of the investors nodded slowly. It was a fair point, and several of them had been thinking about the same thing.
Desiree opened her mouth to answer. "Uhh..."
Her mind went blank. This was the question they had been waiting for, but not in this way, and not from this man. She looked down at her notes, and the words on the page seemed to swim.
Jake stepped forward before the silence could grow any longer, and he took over smoothly.
"Yes, sir. It might be true," Jake said. He put his hands behind his back. "Why did we choose Beijing, where most of our competitors are? Why not Guangzhou, or Hong Kong, or Shanghai, or Changsha? A very reasonable question."
He paused, and the corner of his mouth curved upward slightly.
"The answer is that Beijing is the most suitable place for our operations. And it is also going to be used as a decoy."
Otto's eyebrows rose. "Decoy?"
"Yes, sir. A decoy," Jake said. "Think about it. We are choosing Beijing because it is the best bait. Every company in our industry is going to watch this announcement. Every one of them is going to send their spies there to see what we do. All their eyes will be on Beijing, and they will waste their time, money, and people there."
He let the silence grow for a moment. The room was now so quiet that someone's chair creaked.
"And while they are busy watching Beijing," Jake said slowly, "our true site of operations was Chongqing all along."
"Huh?"
The sound came from many mouths at once. Most of the investors and directors were stunned and confused. A man dropped his pen. One of the older directors said, "What did he say?" to the person next to him, and the person next to him said, "I have no idea."
Da-Eun's eyes went wide. She stared at Jake as though she had never seen him before.
Otto was frozen in his place. His fingers curled slowly into fists on top of the table. The only person in the room who was not shocked at all was Julietta. She was leaning back in her chair, with one leg crossed over the other, looking as relaxed as someone watching a movie she had already seen.
Otto turned his head and fixed his eyes on her. He lowered his voice so that only those closest to him could hear, though the fury in it was plain.
"You and I will talk about this later," he said through his teeth. "How dare you not share this with me? This is a conspiracy."
Julietta smirked. She tilted her head and did not reply. She only lifted her fan and fluttered it slowly in front of her chin, as if to say that she was perfectly comfortable with the word.
Jake glanced sideways at Desiree. She was still standing stiffly, and her cheeks were pink from the embarrassment of freezing. He gave her a small, quick smile.
"You're welcome," he whispered.
Desiree let out the breath she had been holding. A smile spread slowly over her face. She understood what he meant. He had stepped in so she would not have to stumble in front of everyone. It was exactly the kind of thing he always did. She squeezed his hand quickly where nobody could see.
Jake turned back to the room and straightened his shoulders. His voice became serious.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "the presentation you just saw was not the real agenda of this meeting. It was only the cover. The real agenda is this."
He pressed the button on his remote.
The slide changed from slide forty-five to slide forty-six. The two white words, THANK YOU, disappeared. In their place, a new slide appeared in bold black letters on a deep red background.
CHONGQING: THE TRUE BASE OF OPERATIONS
A hush fell over the room. Some of the investors leaned so far forward that they were almost out of their chairs.
"Well, then," Desiree said. She had found her voice again, and now it was clear and strong. She smiled at the whole table. "Shall you all listen to our real presentation?"
Julietta lifted one finger from her fan. "Go on."
The second presentation lasted for two long hours.
It was a different kind of meeting from the first. There were no beautiful tours or golden skylines this time. Instead there were maps, supply routes, land documents, and long lists of names, with numbers beside them. Jake and Desiree explained how the factory in Chongqing would be built inside an old industrial zone. They explained how the shipping would go through the river ports and down the Yangtze, and how the real work would be hidden behind the noise of the Beijing project. Every question had to be answered with care. Every answer made the investors more serious and more quiet.
When it was over, the room felt much heavier than it had at the start. The investors were pale, the directors were exhausted, and the only person who still looked fresh was Julietta, who had not stopped smiling once.
She stood up and clapped her hands twice.
"Well done," she said. "Wonderful. That will be all."
But before she could continue, a chair scraped back loudly.
"Julietta!"
Otto's voice cracked across the room like a whip. He stood with both hands flat on the table, and his magenta eyes were burning.
"Explain this to me!" he shouted. "Why did I not know about this 'decoy'? Why did I not know about this 'true base of operations'?!"
No one dared to breathe. The directors looked down at their notebooks. The investors looked at the ceiling. Even the female director with the glasses, who had asked the first question, was suddenly very interested in her pen.
Julietta turned her head slowly. She looked at Otto for a long moment, and the smile on her face did not move at all.
"All of you," she said, without raising her voice, "you may go now. Except Otto."
It was not a request. The directors and the investors stood up at once and hurried out. A few of them glanced back at Otto with worried faces, but none of them stopped. Within a minute, the room was almost empty.
Jake and Desiree gathered their laptops and papers into their arms. They were the last to leave, and they walked out together, side by side, into the quiet corridor outside the meeting room.
The corridor was wide and softly lit, with a thick red carpet and gold-framed paintings along the walls. At the end of it, standing beside a tall window, was Da-Eun.
She was not smiling anymore. Her arms were crossed, and she was looking directly at them. The expression on her face was one that neither of them had ever seen. It was a mix of confusion, anger, and something that hurt even more: betrayal.
"We need to talk," Da-Eun said quietly. "Both of you. Follow me."
She did not wait for a reply. She turned on her heel and began to walk down the corridor.
Jake and Desiree looked at each other. Desiree's hands were shaking a little on her laptop. She had worked with Da-Eun for months. She had trusted her, and Da-Eun had trusted them enough to put her name on this project. And now they had gone behind her back.
Jake reached out and took her hand. His grip was warm and firm.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "I'm here."
"Mhm," Desiree replied. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and walked with him down the long hall.
***
Back in the meeting room, the door had barely finished closing when Otto's voice rang out again.
"Julietta!"
This time it was not just anger. It was the sound of a man who had been pushed far past the end of his patience. His voice shook the empty glasses on the table. Then he said something in German, and every word was like a stone thrown at a window.
"Du gottverdammte Schlangenschlampe!" (You goddamn snake bitch!)
"Why didn't you tell me about this?!" he shouted. "That Chongqing project! All of it! Why was I kept in the dark?!"
Julietta, who was still standing at the head of the table, only laughed.
It was not her usual high-pitched, noble lady's laugh. It was low and quiet, and there was a coldness in it that was very different from the cheerful woman who had hugged Max in the ballroom.
"Why should I, Otto?" she asked. She walked slowly around the table toward him, and her heels clicked once, twice, three times on the floor. "We're not that close."
"What?"
"Also," Julietta continued, "I may be thankful to you for introducing me to those Chinese investors. Truly, I am. You did something that I could not do in five years. But..."
She stopped right in front of him. She was a head shorter than he was, but she looked up into his face without any fear. Then she lifted one hand and placed her fingertip on his chest, over his heart.
Slowly, she dragged it down the front of his shirt, over his belt buckle, and lower. She watched his face closely as she did it. Then she moved it all the way back up again, stroking it gently over his chest, along his throat, until she stopped at the bottom of his chin and tilted it up.
It was not a loving touch. It was the touch of someone who was showing a man exactly how little his strength meant to her.
"I don't trust you," she said in a soft, sweet voice. "Not after the stunt you pulled many years ago, Otto."
Otto's face went tight. His anger rose even higher, and his jaw clenched until a muscle jumped in his cheek.
"What?" he said. "That day twenty eight years ago? When I killed that fucking boyfriend of yours?"
His voice grew louder and louder with each word.
"He lost control, Julietta! For Christ's sake! If it weren't for me and Dietrich, you would have lost your life that day to that fucking werewolf boyfriend of yours!"
For a moment, Julietta did not move. Her fingertip was still beneath his chin, and her turquoise eyes stared at him without blinking.
Then she scoffed. She pulled her hand away and gave a short, bitter laugh.
"So what?" she said. "I loved him, Otto!"
Her voice cracked on the last word, and then it became low and shaking.
"I may be able to forgive Dietrich, because at least he tried to reason with him. At least he talked. But you? You didn't even try! You went straight for his throat! You tried to kill him without even knowing why he was like that!"
Her hand flew up.
Before Otto could react, her slender fingers wrapped around his neck and tightened. She was far stronger than she looked. Her nails dug into the skin on both sides of his throat, and she lifted him up on his toes.
"KHH!" Otto gagged. His eyes bulged. He grabbed her wrist with both hands, but she did not let go. "J-Julietta! W-wait! ACHK!"
"This is my final warning to you, Otto," Julietta said.
Her voice was very low now, almost gentle, and it was far more frightening than any scream. She leaned in until her lips were next to his ear.
"Don't you dare question my decisions. And don't you dare scream at me."
Otto's face was turning red. He kicked once against the leg of the table, and the whole table shook.
"You should be lucky," Julietta whispered, "that I did not kill your daughter right here, right now. Because I am still angry about what you did twenty eight years ago, Otto. Still. Every single day."
Her grip tightened one last time. Then she let go.
Otto fell back against the table. He doubled over, coughing and wheezing, with both hands clutching his throat.
Julietta straightened her gown calmly. She looked at her palm with distaste, as if it had touched something filthy. Then she wiped it against the front of his tuxedo, slowly, from one side to the other.
"Do you understand me?" she asked. "All right?"
"Cough! Cough! Cough!" Otto's whole body shook. He pushed himself up on one arm. His voice came out as a raw, broken rasp, but there was still anger in it. "You... can't blame me. I'm a hunter. It's on sight. A witch, a werewolf. Hell, even a vampire. When any one of them loses their reason..."
He did not finish.
Julietta's eyes widened. For a moment, she seemed to stop breathing.
Then her right hand dropped to her side. She pulled up the hem of her violet gown, and there, strapped to her thigh in a slim leather holster, was a small silver pistol. She drew it in a single smooth motion, flicked off the safety, and pointed it directly at Otto's forehead.
"I SAID," she screamed, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"
The word 'formal' disappeared from her voice. The Queen of High Society was gone. The graceful lady with the golden fan was gone. What stood in front of him now was a woman who had lost everything once, and who had sworn she would never be careless with her anger again.
The room was dead silent. The only sound was Otto's ragged breathing.
He looked into the barrel. He looked past it into her turquoise eyes, and he saw that she was not bluffing. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his face to the side and let his eyes fall to the floor.
"Alright..." he said hoarsely.
Julietta kept the gun pointed at him for three more seconds. Then she lowered it with a long, satisfied exhale and tucked it back into the holster under her skirt. She smoothed the silk of her gown over it, and in the blink of an eye, she was elegant again.
"Good," she said brightly. "At least you know when to answer."
She walked to the door and rested her hand on the handle. Then she paused and looked back at him over her shoulder.
"I'll go out first, Otto," she said. "And please make sure no one sees that bruise on your neck. It would be so embarrassing for a man of your position."
She opened the door and stepped out, and her heels clicked away down the corridor until the sound faded.
The door swung shut.
Otto stood alone in the empty meeting room. The lights of the city glittered through the tall windows, and the projector was still humming, casting a faint red glow across the wall. On the screen behind him, the last slide was still showing in bold black letters, the words that had started all of this.
He lifted a trembling hand to his throat and felt the heat of the marks already rising on his skin. Five fingers on one side, and a thumb on the other. They would turn purple by morning.
His legs gave out. He dropped to his knees on the carpet and stared at the floor as his shoulders began to shake. The shame was far worse than the pain. He, Otto Ahlgrymm, had been strangled and threatened in front of an empty room. And the worst part was that he could not even say she had been wrong to be angry.
His lips drew back from his teeth. His fingers curled into fists so tight that his nails drew blood. Then he lifted both of them high above his head and brought them down onto the floor with all his strength.
-BAM!
"VERDAAAAMMT!!!"
(DAAAAMMIT!!!)
The scream tore out of his throat, hoarse and cracked, and it echoed through the empty room. It rang against the glass and the polished table and the dark screen. It was the sound of a father, a hunter, and a man who had too many enemies and too few people left to trust.
But nobody heard it.
Down below, the music was still playing, and the guests were still laughing. Max and Bell were still eating at the food counter, and no one knew that the whole world was beginning to tilt on its axis.