The Billionaire's Bodyguard

The Ghost in The Machine

[KANG JIN-WOO]

"Proximity," I said, my voice cutting through the hum of the server fans Min-Ji had running. "To clone a digital signature that complex, they couldn't do it over WiFi. They needed Near Field Communication. NFC."

Seo-Yeon was sitting at the head of the dining table, wrapped in a cashmere shawl, her face colorless. She looked less like a CEO and more like a porcelain doll that had been dropped.

"Speak English, Jin-Woo," she whispered.

I looked at her. "It means someone didn't just hack you from a basement in Russia. Someone brushed up against you today. Physically. Their device tapped your phone in your pocket or purse. It takes less than three seconds."

The implication hit the room like a physical blow.

The enemy wasn't a distant abstraction. The enemy was someone near enough to smell her perfume.

"Today?" Seo-Yeon’s hand went instinctively to the pocket of her blazer, where her phone usually rested. "But I was with you all day. Nobody got that close except..."

Her eyes widened as she looked at me.

"Except you."

I didn't flinch. "Exactly. And I didn't clone your phone. Which means I missed the contact. A professional failure."

My jaw tightened. I hated failure. The scar on my neck itched—a phantom reminder of the last time I missed a threat.

I turned to Min-Ji. The hacker looked sick in the blue light of her monitors, guzzling an energy drink like it was an antidote.

"Pull the security feeds. Lobby, elevators, boardroom hallway. From the moment we stepped out of the car this morning to the moment we left."

[PARK SEO-YEON]

We watched my life replay on three massive screens.

It was surreal. I watched myself—the armored, confident CEO Park in her power suit—striding through the lobby. I looked untouchable.

I knew the truth now. I was walking through a minefield in heels.

"Stop," Jin-Woo ordered suddenly. He was leaning over Min-Ji’s shoulder, his intensity practically crackling in the air. "Camera 4. The lobby incident with Director Han. Rewind ten seconds. Slow motion."

Min-Ji’s fingers flew across the keyboard. On screen, the scene reversed. Director Han was un-paralyzed and stood up, sneering.

"Play at twenty-five percent speed."

We watched in agonizing slow motion.

There was Han, grabbing my arm.

There was Jin-Woo, blurring into motion, grabbing Han's wrist.

Han began to buckle, his face contorting in slow-motion agony.

"There," Jin-Woo pointed at the corner of the screen.

In the chaos of Han falling, the dozen or so employees standing nearby had shuffled backward in shock.

Except one.

A man in a generic gray suit, holding a takeaway coffee cup. While everyone else recoiled from Jin-Woo’s violence, this man took a half-step forward.

As Han hit the floor, screaming, the man in gray stumbled. It looked natural, a reaction to the commotion. He bumped into my right side.

It lasted maybe half a second. His jacket pocket brushed against mine.

He immediately straightened up, muttered an apology that I didn't even acknowledge on screen because I was focused on Han, and melted back into the crowd.

"Got him," Min-Ji whispered, horrified awe in her voice. "He used the distraction of you taking down Han. While everyone was watching the violence, he picked her digital pocket."

I stared at the screen. I didn't remember the bump. It was nothing. A non-event on a chaotic morning.

That non-event had just let a wolf into my home.

I felt violated. It was worse than if he had physically grabbed me. He had stolen my identity without me even feeling it.

"Who is he?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a rage that was quickly burning away the fear. "Is he an employee?"

Jin-Woo was already moving. He pulled his own burner phone from his pocket.

"Hacker, freeze frame on his face. Run it through the company HR database and try to get a hit on national ID records. I want a name in five minutes."

He looked at me. The boredom was gone from his eyes. The abyss was wide open, and it was filled with cold, predatory intent.

"You wanted to know what your fifty million won buys you, Princess?" he growled, pulling on his suit jacket to cover his rolled-up sleeves. "It buys you payback. We aren't waiting here to get hit again. We're going hunting."