Silver Shackles Under the Moonlight

Chapter 8: The Silver Gambit and the Price of "Oppa"

Astrid spent the entire night weighing her options. Though the blood in her veins clamored to tear the clumsy conspirator to pieces, her bone-deep rationality reminded her: the Wen family controlled the group’s lifeblood. Tearing off the mask of civility would serve no one.

The next morning, as she stepped into the Valkyrie Building, the rumors still clung to the air like an inescapable fog. Astrid remained frigid, ignoring the pointed fingers as she dialed Sebastian’s internal line.

"Check if Mr. Valerius has an opening for an 'informal appointment' today."

The line went silent for half a second before Sebastian’s voice rang out, unusually cheerful. "Come straight up, Miss Astrid. The Lord is expecting you."

That unnerving efficiency—skipping the entire approval process—made Astrid’s heart tighten. When she stepped off the elevator on the 30th floor and saw Sebastian’s "I know everything" smirk, she couldn't help but snap, "Was he right next to you when I called?"

"My lady, your sharp intuition is truly enchanting." Sebastian made a suave gesture toward the door.

Astrid let out a self-deprecating sigh. That suffocating sensation of being locked onto by an apex predator and dragged into an intimate contract washed over her once more. Trembling slightly, she knocked on the ebony door.

"Enter."

Killian was, as always, in a bespoke black suit—cold, noble, and lethal. He set down his Parker gold pen, his amber pupils locking onto Astrid with unblinking intensity. "Speak. What is it?"

Astrid didn't waste words. She laid out Wen Qi’s frame-up, the evidence, and the surveillance footage.

As he listened, Killian’s fingers rhythmically tapped the mahogany desk. He showed no surprise, only offering a flat response: "I will handle it."

"I require a face-to-face apology," Astrid said, meeting his gaze. "Ideally, without fracturing the partnership between the group and the Wen family."

Killian leaned back into his chair, his voice dropping an octave. "Astrid, even if you decided to kick her out of New-Lun City’s fashion industry this instant, it wouldn't shake Valkyrie's foundations. Are you certain you want to be this... merciful?"

"Wen Logistics is the group’s artery. I don't want a personal grudge to cause a crack in the Lord's empire."

"Are you worried about me?"

"...I’m merely worried about my year-end bonus." Astrid averted her eyes from his scorching gaze, her cheeks heating up despite herself.

Silence stretched across the room.

"Wen Qi... likely has her own struggles. A firm warning should suffice," Astrid added in a small voice.

"As you wish." There was a trace of almost imperceptible indulgence buried in Killian's tone.

Moments later, Sebastian escorted Wen Qi into the office. The instant she saw Astrid sitting on the sofa, her fleeting nervousness was replaced by a practiced, arrogant intimacy.

"Killian Oppa*, did you send for me?"

The syrupy, clinging way she said "Oppa" made Astrid’s stomach churn. She involuntarily shuddered at the sheer stickiness of the tone.

Killian, who had been glancing at a file, froze. He slowly lifted his eyelids, a flash of murderous frost flickering in his gaze. "What did you just call me?"

Wen Qi was slammed by the sudden explosion of Alpha pressure. She stumbled back a step, her voice trembling. "Va... Mr. Valerius."

Killian let out a cold snort and turned his head slightly. "I didn't summon you. She did."

Astrid rose elegantly from the sofa, flashing a flawless, artificial smile. "Good morning, Miss Wen."

"Astrid, what kind of games are you playing now? Do you have to ruin the peace in front of Killian Oppa?" Wen Qi was still gambling—betting that the blacked-out cameras hadn't left a trail.

At the mention of "Oppa" again, Killian grew visibly restless, but Astrid beat him to the punch.

"I truly had no intention of bothering your 'Killian Oppa.' But if the designers downstairs find out about your 'stellar performance' last night, I fear you won't be able to handle the fallout." Astrid tapped her phone, playing the high-definition clip that clearly recorded Wen Qi’s theft at 1:00 AM.

The color drained from Wen Qi’s face, leaving her as pale as parchment.

Killian listened to Astrid using the provocative term "Killian Oppa" back at her. His Adam’s apple bobbed; his thin lips pressed into a line, yet he didn't interrupt her.

"You..." Wen Qi was speechless.

"Is this the level of play you use? Do you even care for your family’s reputation?" Astrid looked at her coldly. "If your 'Killian Oppa' hadn't stopped me, I would have sent this video to the entire Clan Council last night."

Behind the desk, Killian’s brow furrowed. This woman was getting far too comfortable using his name to threaten people.

"Apologize. Then get out of my sight," Killian’s voice rang out like a final judgment.

"Killian Oppa!" Wen Qi tried one last desperate plea, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

"Call me 'Sir'."

"She gets to call you that, why can't I?" Wen Qi pointed at Astrid, her face a mask of grievance.

Killian’s voice rose, dangerous and overbearing. "She isn't allowed to call me that either—that is a private matter between us. As for you: apologize."

Under the weight of pressure that felt almost physical, Wen Qi finally broke. She hung her head, gritting her teeth. "I’m sorry. I shouldn't have framed you. It won't happen again."

"I heard you." Astrid felt her mood lift instantly, letting out a long sigh of relief.

Killian waved an impatient hand, dismissing the "clutter" from his office. Wen Qi stormed out, but before she could exit, Killian spoke again.

"Stay. When you left that night, did you see anyone else?"

Wen Qi stared dead at Astrid. In that micro-second, she surely guessed who the other half of that silhouette in the garage had been. Ultimately, she just muttered a dark "No" and slammed the door.

Astrid’s heart skipped a beat. "Sir, is there anything else?"

"Come here."

She obediently shuffled to the desk. Killian stared at her like a wolf appraising its prey, his hands resting casually on the armrests.

"Do you think that because I won't punish you, you can run wild in my domain?"

"I don't follow, sir." Astrid continued to play dumb. She wanted to see if this man’s proposal was merely out of "noble responsibility" for that night, or something more.

"Heh. Now you know how to say 'Sir'? Those 'Oppas' rolled off your tongue quite easily just now, didn't they?" Killian looked at her cunning little expression; he wanted to be angry, but found he had nowhere to aim his fire.

"...My apologies. It won't happen again." Astrid lowered her head, but her gaze inadvertently fell on his collar.

She remembered the button she had ripped off yesterday.

Killian followed her gaze downward, then arched an eyebrow, his tone turning husky and suggestive. "What? Haven't seen enough yet?"

"No, that’s not..." Astrid’s ears turned a violent shade of crimson. "If there's nothing else, I’ll take my leave."

Without waiting for his permission, Astrid bolted for the door like a startled white rabbit.

In the office, Killian watched the door still vibrating from her exit and let out a low, deep chuckle.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself.