It started with a whisper.
A vague rumor about missing funds. A quiet report sent to one journalist in a barely-read business newsletter. No names. No noise.
But HanCorp didn't need noise to panic.
By the second day, two VPs were called into closed-door meetings. Someone at PR was fired. IT logs were scrubbed. Internally, it looked like a glitch.
Externally, it looked like blood in the water.
Rin sat through it all in silence.
His badge still worked. His desk untouched. But the moment Than walked past him that morning — eyes dark, jaw tight — Rin knew: he was starting to suspect.
That night, Kieran texted.
"Nice touch. Next step?"
Rin didn't reply.
He was still deciding if this was revenge, or just... freedom.
Three days in, Than made his move.
Not a confrontation. Not a threat.
An invitation.
Private calendar ping: Rooftop garden. 10:30 PM. Just you.
Rin hesitated. Then accepted.
The rooftop was still, trimmed in soft lighting and glass railings. A half-finished whiskey sat on the ledge. Than stood beside it, coat open against the wind.
"You're getting bold," he said, not turning.
"Should I apologize?"
Than looked over his shoulder, faint smirk there. "Only if you want me to believe you're still afraid."
Rin stepped forward, hands in his coat pockets. "I'm not afraid of you, Than."
Than studied him. "Good. You shouldn't be."
A long beat passed between them.
Then Than said, "Do you think I don't know it's you?"
Rin didn't flinch. "I think you want to believe it's not."
Than's laugh was quiet. Bitter. "They're already asking questions. My father's lawyers are circling like sharks."
"Then maybe you should've told the truth."
"I did," Than said. "To you. That's the only truth that mattered."
Rin's voice stayed even. "Then why are you still hiding everything else?"
Than stepped closer. "Because telling the truth doesn't protect people like me. It destroys them."
"And what about people like Jun? The ones who didn't survive your truth?"
Than's jaw twitched.
"Don't pretend you're just another victim, Than. You made choices."
Than's voice dropped. "So did you. You stayed."
Rin looked away. The city lights blurred.
Then Than said something softer. "You know what's worse than being hated?"
"What?"
"Being seen. The real version of you. And having someone still leave."
Rin's chest tightened.
He hated that Than could still say things that hit like confessions. He hated even more that some part of him still wanted to believe them.
"I'm not leaving," Rin said. "Not yet."
Than's hand reached for his, almost a reflex.
But Rin stepped back.
"Don't touch me unless you're ready to stop lying."
The next morning, Rin walked into his office to find his monitor wiped.
Everything gone.
Files. Notes. Personal documents.
Gone.
His keycard still worked. His chair was still warm. But this was Than's answer.
A warning.
We can make you disappear, too.
He called Kieran that night.
"I want to go public," Rin said.
"Slow down," Kieran warned. "This is what they want — to spook you into rushing."
"They wiped everything, Kieran."
"Then we rebuild. But carefully."
Rin's voice trembled. "I thought I was in control."
"You are," Kieran said. "But now you know how much they fear you. That means you're doing it right."
Rin sat on his bed, back to the window. The city pulsed in red lights behind him.
He didn't want to just survive this anymore.
He wanted to win.
To be continued....