Shattered Candles

MAPLESEOUL

The office was suffocatingly silent, the kind that wrapped around the walls and seeped into the bones. Jae-wook sat at his desk, his fingers methodically turning through a stack of papers, each whispering against the other. Across from him, Carrie lounged on the couch, her face bathed in the dim blue light of her phone screen as she scrolled through social media.

The stillness shattered when the door swung open, the hinges groaning as if in protest.

"Good morning!" Ms. Kim's voice sliced through the quiet, too bright, too sharp.

Jae-wook sighed, the weight of it heavy in the stale air. "What is it now?" He let the papers slip from his fingers, drifting like dead leaves.

Ms. Kim's gaze slid to the Carrie. "Oh, you're here too. Hello, Mr. Hamilton." Her voice was casual, but there was a razor edge to it.

She moved to Jae-wook's desk, a predator closing in on wounded prey. Her hand emerged from her coat, fingers curled around a small, unassuming device. She dropped it onto the desk, the sound too loud, too final. Her brows arched, her expression a perfect mask of calculated calm.

Jae-wook stared at the device. "What's this?" His voice was a low rumble, the kind before a storm.

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. "A camera. One that was planted in your office, Mr. Alex."

The words hung in the air, heavy and cold. Carrie's phone slipped from her grip, thudding against the couch. She stood, her movements jerky, as if pulled by strings. "A... a camera?" Her voice was thin, stretched.

Ms. Kim turned to her, the smile sharpening. "Oh, Ms. Evans, you can speak now?"

"What?" The word barely made it past Carrie's lips.

"The camera holds a lot of... information," Ms. Kim said, her tone dripping with the kind of satisfaction that turned stomachs. "Imagine my surprise when I found out you both were playing me all along." Her eyes darkened as they settled on Jae-wook. "How could you? How could you hide your plans from me?"

"Ms. Kim—" Jae-wook began, his voice a dangerous calm.

"Save it." She cut him off, her words a blade. "But that's not even the best part." Her fingers moved quickly, connecting the camera to the office's big screen.

Static crackled before the screen lit up, a grainy image flickering to life. It showed Mrs. Lawrence, her hands deftly fixing the camera, her movements shrouded in shadows.

Jae-wook's face twisted in confusion. "Mrs. Lawrence?"

Ms. Kim's expression remained a blank canvas, the kind that could hold anything. "I knew something was wrong with that woman. I dug deeper, pulled on the right threads, and everything unraveled. She works for Na-eun." She clicked to the next image—Mrs. Lawrence slipping into Na-eun's mansion under the cover of darkness, then another of Na-eun leading her out.

A shiver slid down Carrie's spine. "How... how did we not see this?"

Jae-wook's voice cut through the room, sharp and precise. "Ms. Kim, do you realize how dangerous what you've done is?"

Ms. Kim didn't flinch. "Look, Mr. Alex, danger is just another name for opportunity. You and I have the same goal—to bring Na-eun down. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Noona," Jae-wook's voice cracked, a sliver of concern leaking through.

She turned to him, her expression softening but only just. "You're like a little brother to me. What kind of sister would I be if I let you drown alone?"

His hands curled into fists. "If you'd been caught—"

"But I wasn't." She patted his arm, the gesture disturbingly gentle. "I can handle myself. You know that."

Carrie watched them, an outsider looking in. The bond between them was a twisted thing, thorny and veined with secrets. The room felt smaller, the air too thick, her own thoughts too loud.

She forced her voice to steady. "What do we do about Mrs. Lawrence?"

Jae-wook's expression turned to stone. "Ms. Kim, I need her resignation letter on my desk. Make sure she doesn't step foot in this office again. Pack up her belongings, send them straight to her home, and start interviews for her replacement."

Ms. Kim's lips curled, a wicked satisfaction glimmering in her eyes. "With pleasure." She turned and disappeared into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Let's wait for Na-eun to throw her off" Jae-wook said his tone low and sinister.

Carrie turned to Jae-wook, confusion coiling tight in her chest. "What did you mean by 'wait for Na-eun to throw her off'?"

Jae-wook's lips pulled back into a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "What do you do with something you no longer need?" His voice was a slow, creeping thing.

Carrie's breath caught in her throat. "You... dispose of it?"

He leaned back, shadows swallowing half of his face. His smile widened, a dark and crooked thing.

"Exactly," he said, his voice like the scrape of metal against bone. "Let the show begin."

---

LATER THAT EVENING

The dining room of Na-eun's sprawling mansion was a cavernous space, bathed in dim candlelight that cast long, shifting shadows on the ornate walls. Mrs. Lawrence sat at the end of the polished mahogany table, her trembling hands clutching a crystal glass, the wine within untouched. Her bloodshot eyes were fixed on the empty chair at the far end, where the anticipation hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating.

From the shadows of the grand corridor, Na-eun emerged, her silhouette framed by the golden glow of chandeliers. Her steps were slow, deliberate, each click of her heels echoing with a deathly rhythm. Her lips curled into a serpentine smile as her gaze snaked over to Mrs. Lawrence.

A hulking figure in black, more specter than man, pulled out her chair with silent reverence. Na-eun sat with a fluid grace, her eyes never leaving her guest, the smile still painted on her lips like a fresh wound. The room held its breath.

"What do you have for me?," Na-eun's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a scalpel.

Mrs. Lawrence's voice wavered. "I... I lost my job today. I think they discovered I was working with you. I don't understand how—"

A slender finger traced the rim of a crystal glass, the delicate motion at odds with the razor-sharp gaze that pierced through Mrs. Lawrence. "And?"

"You promised... You said if I helped you, I'd be the manager of Techcom. You said—"

Na-eun's laughter erupted, a sound too bright, too sharp. It died just as quickly, the room sinking back into its cold silence. "Manager? Of Techcom?" Her face hardened, shadows deepening around her eyes. "And why, pray tell, would I trust a traitor? You betrayed Mapleseoul, your home for seven long years. You betrayed them for a dream I never promised to fulfill."

Mrs. Lawrence's composure shattered. She slid off her chair, knees crashing to the marble floor. "Please, Na-eun. I did everything you asked. I sacrificed everything. You can't abandon me now."

Na-eun rose slowly, a queen abandoning her throne. She walked with a feline elegance, the room shrinking around her. "Correction." Her voice was laced with venom. "You worked for me, not with me. And now you're nothing. Jobless. Worthless. And still, you had the audacity to crawl into my home."

Her final word was a blade, and Mrs. Lawrence recoiled as if struck. Desperation turned to rage, her voice a broken growl. "I thought they were lying about you. But they were right. You're a witch. No, worse. You're a monster—a demon. A soulless—"

The crack of a gunshot severed her words. Mrs. Lawrence's head snapped back, a crimson bloom spreading across the pristine marble. The glass fell from her hand, shattering, the wine mingling with her blood in a macabre painting on the floor.

Na-eun stood, her arm outstretched, a sleek silver pistol in her hand. Her expression remained unchanged, the smoke from the barrel curling around her face like a dark halo. She wiped an imaginary speck from her fingers with a white handkerchief, the fabric absorbing the darkness of her deeds.

"No one defines me," she said, her voice as calm as a lullaby.

She turned, her silhouette swallowing the light as she moved deeper into the mansion's shadowed halls. Behind her, the man in black moved soundlessly, bending to collect the body. The room fell silent, the walls swallowing the violence as if it had never happened.

The last candle flickered and died, and darkness reclaimed its throne.