The morning air was crisp and cold, carrying the sharp scent of an approaching winter. The time was 8:00 AM. The Kim residence was a whirlwind of controlled, expensive movement. The armored black sedans were lined up below the penthouse, ready to transport the Chairman and his wife to Gimpo International Airport, where Min-Joon's private jet, emblazoned subtly with the K.M. Holdings insignia, awaited them.
Kim Min-Joon looked refreshed, having slept deeply, a luxury he rarely afforded himself. He attributed his excellent rest to the successful closure of the Sungjin deal and the calming influence of his perfect wife. He was oblivious to the tiny cotton fibers still clinging to his collar from the sleep-inducing swab.
"Are you ready, Seo-Yun?" Min-Joon asked, his tone crisp and efficient, as he checked his platinum watch—a beautiful, complicated instrument of Swiss engineering, reflective of his own precise nature.
"Perfectly ready, darling," Seo-Yun replied, offering him a serene smile. She was wearing a chic travel ensemble—a warm camel coat and oversized sunglasses that masked the profound sleeplessness in her eyes. Her large designer handbag contained the essentials for the trip, but more importantly, the M-Data flash drive, now fully loaded with the biometric access key, was secured in a discreet, sewn pocket inside the lining.
The drive to the airport was silent, broken only by Min-Joon's brief, focused calls to his Chief of Staff. Seo-Yun gazed out the tinted window at the urban sprawl of Seoul, absorbing every detail. She knew this was her last view of the city as Mrs. Kim Min-Joon. It was a cityscape of endless striving, and she felt a sense of both triumph and intense relief at leaving its suffocating demands behind.
At Gimpo, the arrival was choreographed. Security details met them immediately, escorting them directly to the private terminal. The public and the press were kept far away—Min-Joon's life was managed behind velvet ropes and closed doors.
As they walked across the tarmac towards the sleek Gulfstream jet, Seo-Yun allowed her hand to brush against Min-Joon's arm—a gesture of ownership and complicity that was her final, beautiful lie.
"We will relax, Min-Joon," she murmured, leaning close. "I promise."
"We will," he agreed, though his eyes were already scanning the horizon, perhaps searching for the next financial challenge. "Two days of pure decompression. Then back to work."
The jet interior was a masterclass in quiet luxury—creamy leather, polished dark wood, and a small, fully stocked bar. As soon as the jet doors hissed shut and the flight attendants prepared for take-off, Min-Joon pulled out his tablet.
"I need to review the quarterly projections before we lose signal over the sea," he stated, slipping into his work persona instantly.
Seo-Yun, anticipating this, settled into a seat opposite him, opening a glossy fashion magazine. Her movements were slow, her external demeanor languid, but her internal clock was ticking mercilessly. She had a tight window: the moment the plane reached cruising altitude and Min-Joon was fully absorbed in his data, she had to execute the money transfer. The geo-fencing on the account required her to be outside the specific boundaries of the KM Holdings corporate network, which the plane would achieve shortly after take-off.
She subtly turned a page in her magazine, ensuring the spine concealed the small, nearly invisible wireless mouse she had brought. Her laptop—a thin, nondescript model she claimed was for planning their social calendar—was charging in her carry-on bag.
As the jet roared down the runway, Seo-Yun felt a profound shift. The moment the wheels left the ground, she left behind the safety net of the Kim empire. The risk was terrifying, yet exhilarating.
Forty minutes later, the flight attendant announced they had reached cruising altitude. Min-Joon was deep into his financial reports, a faint line etched between his eyebrows.
Seo-Yun waited five more minutes.
"I need to check the guest list for the spring gala, Min-Joon," she announced, her voice calm and even. "I'll just get my little laptop."
"Go ahead," he said without looking up, waving his hand dismissively.
She retrieved her laptop and placed it on the tray table. She used a small, portable power bank to avoid using the jet's internal network, ensuring her actions were entirely off-grid. She quickly booted up the system.
The flash drive was pulled out and inserted. The process of accessing Min-Joon's protected accounts was automated, thanks to the biometric key she had copied last night. She had developed a simple, one-click script that would initiate the transfer of the liquid capital to four separate, untraceable offshore accounts, specifically chosen by Joo-Hyuk. The entire process was designed to take only 90 seconds.
As the transfer script began its countdown, Seo-Yun felt dizzy. The red progress bar crawled agonizingly across the screen.
80 seconds remaining.
Min-Joon sighed loudly, frustrated by a figure on his report. "The Q4 growth projection is under the initial estimation. I need to call Choi immediately when we land."
50 seconds remaining.
Seo-Yun forced her eyes back to the magazine, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was reading the same headline about Parisian couture for the fifth time, incapable of processing the words.
20 seconds remaining.
She had committed the ultimate betrayal. The end of Min-Joon's financial power was seconds away. She would gain her freedom, and he would face the greatest corporate disaster of his career, a catastrophic loss of liquid capital that would momentarily destabilize KM Holdings and plunge him into a public scandal.
5 seconds remaining.
The progress bar hit 100%. The transfer was complete. Four new, untraceable accounts were funded. The key to her future was secured.
She swiftly unplugged the flash drive and pressed the power button on the laptop, her movements smooth and practiced. She tucked the laptop away, concealing the flash drive once more in her pocket.
"Everything set for the gala?" Min-Joon asked, finally looking up, momentarily released from his projections.
"Everything," Seo-Yun confirmed, allowing a genuine smile of relief to finally touch her lips. "Perfectly set."
She had won the first act of the game, and Min-Joon, still immersed in his perfectly structured world of figures and projections, remained entirely unaware that the foundation of his entire empire had just been hollowed out from beneath him, high above the churning waters of the East China Sea.