The private terminal at Incheon International Airport was bathed in the sleek, clinical glow of early-morning LED lights. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, the Kang family’s private Gulfstream jet sat on the tarmac, its silver engines idling with a deep, vibrating hum. Inside the executive lounge, absolute chaos reigned. "I am telling you, he needs the inflatable duck floatie!" Do-hyun argued loudly, frantically shoving a bright yellow, oversized rubber ring into a pristine Rimowa suitcase while two flight attendants watched in silent terror. "The waves in Maui are unpredictable! What if a rogue current sweeps him toward South America?!" "He is twenty years old, Do-hyun, not a golden retriever," Min-jun said dryly, not looking up from his encrypted tablet as he paced the length of the VIP lounge. His dark suit was immaculate, but his eyes were bloodshot from spending the entire night orchestrating perimeter security for a Hawaiian resort. "And if a wave sweeps him anywhere, our stationtrac satellite detail will lock onto his location within four seconds." Sitting in the corner of a plush leather sofa, Ji-won looked like an adorable, deeply traumatized marshmallow. Do-hyun had forced him into an oversized, pastel-blue cashmere hoodie, a pair of matching sweatpants, and a fluffy white bucket hat pulled down so low it nearly covered his wide, anxious eyes. Ji-won was clutching a cup of warm chamomile tea with both hands, his mind spinning at a thousand miles an hour. He hadn't slept a wink. After the explosive breakfast revelation yesterday, Ji-won had spent the entire night curled up in his bed, staring at his hidden phone in absolute horror. He had sent Lu Sheng a frantic, paragraph-long text explaining that he was being forcibly deported to Hawaii by a man wielding serving tongs and that their midnight meeting was off. Lu Sheng hadn't replied. Not a single text. Not a single threat. Complete, terrifying, radio silence for eighteen straight hours. And that was infinitely worse than a threat. A silent Lu Sheng meant a calculating Lu Sheng—and a calculating Lu Sheng meant someone was about to suffer a catastrophic, life-altering disaster. BZZZ. The single, sharp vibration of the hidden phone in Ji-won’s inner hoodie pocket made him jump so violently his tea splashed over the rim, scalding his fingers. Ji-won gasped, frantically setting the porcelain cup down on the glass table. He cast a quick, desperate glance toward his brothers. Min-jun was currently locked in a heated debate with the chief pilot over flight trajectories, while Do-hyun was trying to convince Ji-ho that bringing an eight-hundred-page Hawaiian-to-Polynesian dictionary counted as "excessive baggage." Seizing the two-second window of distraction, Ji-won slipped his hand inside his baggy hoodie and pulled the phone out just enough to glance at the lit screen. A single, high-resolution image had been delivered via the black-listed app. It was a real-time, aerial camera feed of the Incheon private tarmac. Zeroed in right on the center of the frame was the exact tail number of the Kang family's Gulfstream jet. Beneath the image, a single line of text appeared: [Lu Sheng]: Step out of the terminal and walk to the black executive van parked near Hangar 4 within three minutes. Or I hit the remote override on your jet’s primary engine diagnostics right now. Let’s see if Executive Kang’s precious aircraft can clear the runway with a total power failure. Ji-won’s breath hitched. The air evaporated from his lungs, a wave of icy, paralyzing terror washing over him from head to toe. Lu Sheng wasn't just tracking him; he had compromised the airport’s private air-traffic control network! He was sitting somewhere nearby, holding the literal safety of Ji-won’s entire family hostage with the click of a button. "Ji-won-ah?" Ji-won flinched, rapidly shoving the phone deep back into his hoodie pocket as Ji-ho walked over, holding two small leather passport covers. "Are you feeling alright?" Ji-ho asked softly, his sharp eyes inspecting Ji-won’s pale face through his round glasses. "Your heart rate appears visually elevated. Is it flight anxiety? I have a comprehensive treatise on aerodynamic safety parameters if you’d like to review the statistics." "I... I just need to use the restroom, Hyung!" Ji-won squeaked out, his voice cracking horribly. "The... the chamomile tea went right through me!" Before Ji-ho could analyze the physiological probability of chamomile tea acting as a rapid diuretic, Ji-won spun on his heel and sprinted down the private VIP corridor toward the rear exit, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Ji-won, wait! The driver has the key to the VIP washroom!" Do-hyun shouted from across the lounge, but Ji-won was already gone. Ji-won pushed open the heavy steel emergency service door at the end of the service hallway, bursting out into the crisp, cold morning air of the private airfield. The smell of jet fuel and sea wind hit him instantly. Tears of sheer, desperate frustration prickled his eyes as he ran across the damp concrete, his fluffy bucket hat nearly blowing off his head. He looked toward Hangar 4. Sitting in the deep shadows of the massive concrete structure was a sleek, jet-black armored Mercedes van with blacked-out windows and idling dual exhausts. Ji-won slowed to a frantic halt ten paces away, his chest heaving, his sweater collar pulled up to his chin. The rear sliding door of the van glided open with a quiet, hydraulic hiss. Sitting in the deep leather interior, wearing a flawlessly tailored charcoal suit with his dark hair styled back, was Lu Sheng. He held a crystal tumbler of iced whiskey in one hand, his dark, mesmerizing eyes fixed on Ji-won with the terrifying, predatory calm of a tiger watching a lamb step into its cage. "You're twenty seconds late, little angel," Lu Sheng purred, his voice smooth as silk and cold as ice. He set his glass down, extending a long, elegant hand toward Ji-won. "Did you really think a cartoon dolphin brochure could hide you from me?" Ji-won gripped the edge of his hoodie, his lower lip trembling as he stood on the damp tarmac, caught between the plane containing his loving, chaotic family and the demon holding his collar. "P-Please..." Ji-won sobbed softly, his voice drowning in the roar of distant jet engines. "They're going to realize I'm missing! Min-jun has perimeter cameras!" Lu Sheng’s lips curved into a dark, wicked smirk as he leaned forward, grabbing Ji-won by the wrist with an iron grip and hauling him effortlessly up into the dark warmth of the van. "Then let Executive Kang look at his cameras," Lu Sheng whispered against Ji-won's ear as the automatic door slammed shut, sealing them in total darkness. "Because you aren't going to Hawaii, Ji-won-ah. You're coming home with me."

Chapter 13