Shadows in the Network

The phone call had ended, but Andrea's fingers lingered on the screen, her thumb slowly scrolling through the endless stream of messages from Maya. Her eyes narrowed, trying to decode the messy urgency in Maya's tone even through text—images of an old warehouse, coordinates pinned in the margins, red circles around time stamps and certain faces from the surveillance feed. One face she couldn't ignore—a shadowed man, barely visible, but oddly familiar.

She tried to call Maya again.

Ring. Ring. No answer.

She pressed redial.

Still no answer.

Andrea sighed, running a hand through her soft chestnut waves as her gaze lifted toward the glass wall of her room. Outside, the skyline of Seoul was glittering under the mid-morning sun. Yet, the coldness that settled inside her didn't match the bright city around her.

Maya wasn't ignoring her—she was likely busy, probably underground at the base in Turkey where signal was weak, or maybe out on a lead. Either way, Andrea knew that if Maya had sent this much intel, it was urgent.

"I shouldn't have left my phone behind," she muttered under her breath, pacing.

Andrea pulled up the satellite map Maya had attached and expanded it to full screen on her tablet. She grabbed a pen and her leather notebook from the nearby desk and began scribbling translations, notes, and thoughts as she replayed the images and files.

Every photo Maya sent had a timestamp. Every timestamp led to one thread. And each thread, Andrea realized, was weaving into something much bigger than she anticipated.

She was about to make one more attempt to contact Maya when her door knocked softly.

She turned toward the sound.

It was one of the housekeepers, bowing respectfully.

"Miss Yeldiz, breakfast has been served in the courtyard."

Andrea nodded. "Thank you. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Once the door shut again, she sighed, tossing the tablet gently on the bed before heading into the adjoining bathroom to wash up.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the city...

Eunwoo sat at the head of the long obsidian meeting table, his hands clasped together and elbows resting on the sleek polished surface. His gaze was sharp—focused—dark eyes locked on the massive digital screen in front of him where quarterly reports, red flag acquisitions, and shareholder projections rolled in sequence.

He wasn't just the CEO of one of the most powerful multinational companies in Asia. He was a strategist, a ghost in the systems of global economics, with one foot in the world of shadows and another in boardrooms built of gold.

Minjoon, seated to his right, discreetly leaned toward him and murmured, "Sir, Mr. Juntae King has not yet arrived."

The muscles along Eunwoo's jaw twitched subtly. That was enough to show he wasn't pleased.

He didn't glance at Minjoon as he spoke, his voice crisp and cold.

"If Mr. Juntae King cannot honor the time of this meeting, make sure he is not invited to the next. I do not tolerate disrespect in business or bloodlines."

Minjoon gave a curt nod, tapping something into his tablet. "Understood, sir."

One of the board members, a grey-haired European man in a navy Armani suit, cleared his throat and looked to Eunwoo with mild curiosity. "Shall we proceed, Mr. Cha?"

Eunwoo offered a curt nod. "Proceed. We don't pause for ghosts."

And just like that, the meeting moved forward—charts, numbers, foreign investments, offshore accounts. But beneath the surface, something darker brewed. Eunwoo wasn't just irritated about Juntae's absence—he was calculating something far more strategic.

Juntae King was not just his uncle—he was a link to something Eunwoo had been quietly investigating. And his lack of appearance today confirmed one thing: someone was hiding something.

Back at the mansion…

Andrea was seated at the corner of the outdoor breakfast table, nibbling a croissant while her eyes remained locked on the tablet in front of her. She'd set the screen up beside her coffee and was tracing the red markings Maya had drawn around a building near the Aegean Sea.

The patterns didn't lie.

Andrea tapped on the mic.

"Voice message to Maya," she began. Her voice was calm but held a steel edge of urgency.

"I got your files. Whatever you're tracking, I think it links back to the December intel drop. I'm cross-matching the coordinates with what we picked up in Prague. Something's not right. Call me as soon as you're able. And if you can't... I'll know you're in deeper than usual."

She sent the message.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

Liam.

Again.

She smiled as she picked up.

"Hey. Miss me already?"

"Actually yes," Liam's voice was lighter this time. "But more importantly, I just got an update. Maya's team intercepted a transmission—coded—about someone moving from Europe to East Asia."

Andrea froze mid-sip. "Someone?"

"Codename: Ivory Wing. Ring a bell?"

Andrea's hand slowly lowered, her mind racing. "Ivory Wing hasn't been seen since Berlin two years ago…"

"Exactly. And guess where the trail ends this time?"

Andrea's heart thudded against her ribs. "Seoul?"

A pause.

"Bingo."

Andrea stood from the chair, leaving her breakfast untouched as she walked briskly inside. "Send me everything. And Liam… tell the chief to tighten the vault system. If Ivory Wing's on the move, we're not dealing with shadows anymore. We're dealing with something that breathes."

Back in the city…

The meeting had concluded. Eunwoo stepped into his personal office, hands loosening his tie slightly as he moved toward the massive glass wall overlooking the skyline. His mind was restless.

Minjoon entered behind him.

"Sir, there's another matter you might want to see."

Eunwoo turned slightly. "Go on."

Minjoon handed him a secure folder.

"Encrypted intel. From one of our internal sources. It appears… your trip may have triggered movement from operatives in Europe. One name keeps appearing—Ivory Wing."

For a fraction of a second, Eunwoo's expression shifted—just barely.

He opened the folder.

Inside, a photo.

A face he hadn't seen since a winter in Prague.

Not a friend. Not quite an enemy. But definitely a gamechanger.

Eunwoo's voice was barely above a whisper. "Why now?"

Minjoon hesitated. "We believe it's tied to Ms. Yeldiz. Her last mission wasn't as... invisible as we hoped. Someone noticed. Someone who was waiting."

Eunwoo turned back to the window, mind racing.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red velvet pouch—the one the butler had placed in his wardrobe this morning. Slowly, he opened it.

Inside was a sleek, obsidian ring with crimson etching—the symbol of the society.

He hadn't worn it in years.

But now, as he slipped it onto his finger, something in his eyes shifted.

War was coming.

And it had already begun with whispers.

.______..______..______..______.💮.______..______.

The hallway echoed faintly with the clicking of polished leather shoes, the air heavy with tension that only Eunwoo seemed immune to—until his phone buzzed again.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Another call.

Minjoon, walking beside him toward the elevator, cast a quick glance at the device. The screen lit up with a contact name flashing boldly: A.Y. The name might have been cryptic to others, but not to Eunwoo. Not to him.

Andrea YELDIZ.

A sigh escaped him as his thumb casually slid across the screen, cutting the call for what must have been the fifteenth time that hour. He entered the elevator, the doors whooshing closed behind them. Three female employees were already inside. Their hushed conversation died the moment they saw the CEO step in.

But the silence didn't last long.

Buzz. Buzz. BUZZ.

Notifications exploded on his screen, one after the other. Messages. Missed calls. And then—

"Pick up the call. I want to talk."

His jaw tightened. He finally opened the message, only to see twenty missed calls. His lips curled into a frustrated frown as he muttered, loud enough for the entire elevator to hear:

"Can't she wait until it's night?"

His voice was clipped, slightly amused, slightly irritated—but to the curious minds around him, it was something else entirely.

The three women exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"Her?" one whispered.

"Is he talking about his girlfriend?" another replied, eyes shining.

"Wait, he actually has a woman who dares to call him that much?"

Eunwoo caught the whispers but didn't react. His face remained blank, cold. But his mind was anything but still.

As the elevator dinged open, Eunwoo strode out like a storm wrapped in a fine suit. Minjoon paused for a second, turned back to the gossiping trio, and in a voice sharper than any rumor they could spread, said:

"This is a health organization, not a drama set. The next time I hear your voices more than the elevator chime, I'll make sure your last day here is as memorable as this one."

His tone was dangerously calm.

Then, just to break the intensity, Minjoon smirked and winked.

"But thank you for paying attention. Good to know we have fans."

The girls giggled nervously, watching the two powerful men disappear into the corridor.

Inside his office, Eunwoo dropped his phone onto the desk like it had personally offended him.

"I need strong coffee," he snapped.

"Of course, boss. Anything else?" Minjoon asked, stepping to the side.

"Just coffee."

As Minjoon stepped out, Eunwoo leaned back in his chair. The silence of his cabin contrasted the chaos in his head. His phone lit up again. Another message. Then a voice note.

He hesitated. Then pressed play.

Andrea's voice filled the room, sharp, angry, and unmistakably hers.

"Mr. King, are you going to pick up my call or should I just reach your location for that?"

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"What the hell was that for…" he muttered to himself, annoyed yet oddly amused.

Another voice note came through. He played it instantly.

"Mr. Boss, if you think I'm just breaking beds and enjoying candlelight dinners, then sorry, I'm here for work. When I need to report to you, I call. If it's important, I will call."

Her frustration came through every syllable.

Eunwoo tilted his head back against the chair and squeezed the bridge of his nose. That voice. So defiant. So her.

"Damn it, you should call her back now…" he mumbled.

But before he could dial, another voice note dropped in.

This one was different.

Calm.

Sharp.

Commanding.

"I'm going out for a mission. It's urgent. When I'm back, I want to meet you. At 5 PM. At your mansion. If you're not there, I'll leave this country. Don't make me repeat that, Mr. King."

Short.

Deadly.

Final.

Eunwoo cursed under his breath just as Minjoon returned with the coffee.

"Sir, call from Dmitry Volkov. He says it's urgent," Minjoon reported.

Eunwoo straightened. Dmitry didn't call unless the sky was falling or someone was about to.

"Put him through."

Minjoon handed him the secure line.

"Mr. King," Dmitry's voice boomed on the other end, deep and brimming with irritation. "I gave you my best agent. Yet you ignore her calls? Have you forgotten how critical this mission is?"

"Sir, I've been working on the same mission from my end. It's taking longer to trace the—"

"She's gone alone, Mr. King," Dmitry cut him off.

Silence.

"What?" Eunwoo whispered, already gripping the edge of his desk.

"She's gone to intercept the supplier. She got a lead through her informant. She's out there, alone, in your damn country. Thirty minutes ago. I can't reach her now. She sent me the location—I'm sending it to you. You go. Now."

Eunwoo didn't need another word.

He slammed the receiver down, stood up so quickly that his chair rolled back, and barked:

"Minjoon! Car. Now."

Minjoon didn't ask questions. He moved.