Chapter 9 - The New LedgerBy the spring of 2026, Manhattan had fully shed its winter skin, the trees in Central Park bursting into a brilliant, golden green that softened the sharp edges of the skyscrapers.
The penthouse office of Kang Meridian Group had been completely remodeled. The black marble was still there, but the cold glass had been replaced by warm, brushed bronze accents, and the massive, medieval oil portrait of Min-jun had been moved from behind the desk to a private gallery in the lower corridor.
In its place stood a beautiful, modern triptych painting of the Manhattan skyline at dawn—a work that Lena had selected herself.
Lena sat at the secondary walnut desk that had been installed parallel to Min-jun’s, her laptop open as she reviewed the global compliance figures for the maritime expansion. She looked elegant, confident, a stunning emerald ring catching the morning light on her left ring finger.
The doors to the private study opened, and Min-jun walked out.
He looked immaculate in a dark gray three-piece suit, his hair combed back perfectly, a silver tray in his right hand. He walked to her desk, placing a black porcelain mug on the brass coaster to her right.
"Single-origin Ethiopian beans," Min-jun said, his voice dropping into that warm, gravelly register that never failed to send a shiver straight down her spine. "Brewed at precisely two hundred and one degrees. One raw sugar cube. Stirred four times clockwise, and once counterclockwise."
Lena looked up, a brilliant, teasing smile lighting up her face as she took a sip of the perfect brew. "Excellent, Mr. Kang. The power structure remains intact."
Min-jun leaned over her chair, his long fingers resting on the edge of her desk as he kissed her cheek, his breath warm against her skin. "The board of directors is waiting in the grand hall, Lena. The Seoul executives have arrived for the final signing of the merger."
"Let them wait five minutes," Lena said, closing her laptop and standing up to smooth the front of her cream-colored silk dress. She turned to face him, her hands coming up to rest against his chest. "I have one final condition before we walk into that room."
Min-jun smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his dark eyes and completely transformed his severe face into something breathtakingly handsome. "And what is that, Mrs. Kang?"
"I want you to promise me that if the chairman’s footsteps are rhythmically distracting today," Lena whispered, her gray eyes dancing with mischief, "you will let me be the one to fire him."
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Min-jun laughed—a rich, deep sound that filled the elegant office with an absolute, human warmth that had been missing for thirty-eight floors of history.
"The empire is yours, yeobo," he murmured, his lips meeting hers in a soft, lingering vow. "Fire whomever you like."
