The airport was unusually crowded, despite the peak travel season having long passed. The bustling atmosphere, filled with a chaotic symphony of sounds unique to such a place, served as a sharp yet oddly refreshing reminder that the tranquility of their long but exhilarating vacation had officially co to an end.
Two pairs of long, slender legs moved in sync, their footsteps light against the cold, scuffed floor. The soft, rhythmic tapping of their heels was accompanied by the smooth hum of rolling wheels gliding effortlessly beneath two large suitcases, each wrapped in sleek leather covers.
Felicity removed her new designer sunglasses and took a quick glance around. It had been a while since she had last been ho as her last movie was fild in Spain, and a strange sense of disappointnt settled in her chest as she took in the changes.
The airport, once so familiar, now felt almost foreign.
But it wasn’t just the updated design that unsettled her. Nearly every gray wall was now plastered with massive, glossy, colorful advertisent posters featuring famous models and actors smiling and posing, all promoting the sa fast-growing, yet already leading software company—LING.
"My smartphone is an intricate part of my life, and I know that I can trust it with anything because my data is safe with LING."
Felicity turned to Jane, who was also staring at one of the oversized posters. A well-known actor’s face smiled down at them, his expression warm and confident, the bold slogan beside him reinforcing the promise of security as the new smartphone in his right hand had a bright purple wallpaper with the company’s na on it.
When LING first started gaining attention, Jane quickly learned that its founder was none other than Vernon Lin—the sa guy who had seemingly vanished off the face of the Earth after that unfortunate graduation incident.
She didn’t harbor any particular resentnt toward his soaring success. However, as LING began toppling industry leaders one by one, inching closer to her father’s level of power and influence, Jane couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of unease. Yet, everyone around her remained blissfully delusional, convinced that LING’s future was still uncertain at best.
"You know, they tried offering an advertising contract too," Felicity remarked, slipping her sunglasses into her leather purse. "But I was too busy for the shoot anyway. My mother wanted to grab that deal, though."
She flashed Jane a warm smile, which was t with an equally warm—if slightly strained—curve of Jane’s pink lips.
"It’s b-been causing t-trouble for my father lately," Jane admitted, her voice faltering. "He’s l-lost a lot of investors... even the Chastains are b-beginning to show skepticism. Father keeps s-saying everything is fine, b-but I know it’s not."
Felicity cast another glance at the poster before letting out a quiet sigh. "What about Charles? Does he have anything to say about this?"
Jane slowly shook her head, her shoulders lifting in a small, uncertain shrug. "His p-parents want him to f-focus solely on his studies, so he d-doesn’t know either. Everybody is being v-very evasive with b-both of us."
Felicity wanted to say sothing reassuring as she noticed her friend’s darkened, disgruntled expression, but before she could, a loud voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Felicity!"
Her new manager—a tall and surprisingly energetic young man nad Alex—stood by the exit, waving his large hands frantically in an attempt to catch her attention.
Embarrassed and slightly exasperated by the scene, Felicity turned back to Jane, offering her a pleading look before pulling her into a tight, affectionate hug.
"Alright, Princess, as you can see, I’m already being summoned back to work. Will you be okay here? Did you call your driver?"
Jane wriggled free from her friend’s embrace and shot her a glare, utterly annoyed by the condescending treatnt. Even now, at twenty-four, she was still the only one being treated like a child.
"G-Go! I’ll be fine."
As Jane watched Felicity’s car disappear into the distance, she finally realized she still hadn’t heard back from her own driver—despite ssaging him quite a while ago.
She checked her phone again. No new ssages. No missed calls.
Strange. My phone is working just fine... Should I just call him?
After hesitating for a few more minutes, Jane let out a sigh and pressed the call button next to the driver’s number.
Straight to voicemail.
She stared at her phone, at a complete loss for words.
This had never happened before—not once—since she had been assigned a designated driver. The unsettling deviation from routine left Jane feeling anxious, even a little scared.
But lingering at the airport wouldn’t help. With no other option, she did sothing she hadn’t done in ages—she ordered a cab.
Sothing feels off... This isn’t right...
When the cab pulled up in front of the Devold residence, Jane’s unease only grew. Parked near the tall tal gate were two police cars, surrounded by three black vehicles she didn’t recognize.
She paid the driver with the cash in her wallet and stepped out, her eyes locked on the wide-open front doors of her ho. Outside, the entire household staff stood in a tense line, their faces filled with confusion and dread.
What is happening?
"Miss Jane!"
Jane flinched at the sound of Mrs. Kim’s trembling voice. The housekeeper rushed toward her, stopping just short of knocking her over. Clutching Jane’s shoulders, the woman struggled to speak, gasping for air between frantic breaths.
Mrs. Kim’s disheveled appearance only deepened Jane’s growing panic. When the woman finally seed able to form words, Jane gently freed herself from her grasp and asked,
"M-Mrs. Kim... w-what is g-going on?"
Mrs. Kim shook her head, her voice cracking as she all but cried out, "Oh, Miss Jane! What are we going to do? The house has been sealed by the prosecutor’s office! Your father has disappeared!"
Jane’s eyes widened in utter shock. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.
Mrs. Kim, now looking her straight in the eyes, continued—this ti, in an unbelievably cold tone.
"Miss Jane... Mr. Devold is being charged with tax fraud."
"W-What?!"
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