Kaya was staring at the job listing again.
Third time today.
Same dull, lifeless post, same requirements she didn't meet. Her fingers hovered over the apply button, but she didn't click it. Instead, she let her head drop forward, forehead thudding lightly against the rickety kitchen table.
The CV she had painstakingly typed up last night was already open on her screen. Half the applications she'd sent this week hadn't even gotten a rejection. They just vanished. Ghosts in cyberspace.
The old fan in the corner rattled to life with a metallic screech, blowing hot air around their cramped apartment. Sweat clung to her spine, sticky beneath her shirt.
Her little sister had gone out to pick up their mother's medication and something cheap for dinner. Their mother, meanwhile, was in a hospital bed across town, wired to too many machines, wasting away while bills piled up like angry bricks against the wall.
Kaya rubbed her eyes and leaned back in the wooden chair, exhaling shakily. Last night still clung to her like smoke. The club. The noise. That man, the one who had grabbed her. And then the other one, the one in the midnight-black suit who hit him so hard she could still hear the crack of his jaw.
Who was he?
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to replay it. She remembered the back of his head, slicked hair. The way his suit didn't wrinkle when he moved. The way he looked at her like she was a mess he didn't want to see again.
I'm Leon Feng, he'd said, voice like dark velvet.
She blinked. Leon Feng. Was that it? It sounded right, but also... impossible. She'd heard that name before. Everywhere. It was always on the news ticker when they talked about global markets, rising tech, luxury conglomerates. Feng International. But that man couldn't have been that Leon Feng. Could he?
Kaya was still turning it over in her mind when someone banged on the door.
Her heart jumped into her mouth.
It was not a knock. A bang. Sharp. Firm. Deliberate.
She froze, then stood up slowly. Her phone wasn't in reach, but a butter knife sat near the sink. She grabbed it instinctively, gripping it with trembling fingers as she approached the door.
The second bang came. Then a voice, deep and crisp.
"Miss Kaya Song? Open the door."
Her chest seized. No one called her that unless it was official. Government. Hospital. Or worse.
"Who is it?" she called.
No answer. There was just another knock, quieter this time.
Kaya unlatched the door and opened it an inch.
Three people stood outside.
All dressed in black.
Not the casual kind of black. Not jeans and hoodies. This was tailored, professional. Black suits. Dark sunglasses. Earpieces.
Her stomach dropped.
"What… what is this?" she asked, eyes darting.
"You need to come with us," the tallest one said, a man with an angular jaw and no visible emotion. "Now, please."
"I'm not going anywhere," she snapped, clutching the butter knife tighter.
The woman beside him stepped forward, palms raised. "We mean no harm. You're not in trouble. But the Boss requested your presence. Immediately."
"The Boss?" she echoed, eyes narrowing.
"You'll understand when you get there."
Her heart hammered. This felt insane. Like something out of a movie. And yet… they weren't threatening her. They weren't trying to drag her out. They were waiting. Patient. Professional.
"Can I change at least?" she asked, voice dry.
The woman glanced at her outfit. Kaya looked down. Top and trousers. Her hair was packed up in a loose bun. She wasn't exactly polished, but at least she wasn't in her ragged sleep shirt.
"You look fine."
That was debatable, but she exhaled. At least she had some dignity.
Kaya glanced once back at the apartment, the fan still clacking, the old peeling linoleum floor, then stepped outside.
They guided her into a sleek black car, and it pulled off without a word. Kaya pressed her forehead against the cool window, trying to calm the riot in her chest.
She should've left a note for her sister. She should've called someone. But in the rush she had somehow left her phone at home, and her limbs were moving faster than her logic.
The ride took less than twenty minutes.
But the destination made her breath catch.
They pulled up in front of a massive glass skyscraper that towered into the sky like it wanted to cut through the clouds. Kaya knew that building. Everyone in Meiran City did. It was the headquarters of Feng International.
Her heart sank into her stomach.
There was absolutely no way.
The driver got out and opened the door for her. One of the suited figures motioned her forward. Numb, she followed, stepping out onto polished pavement that practically shimmered beneath the sunlight.
Was this a mistake?
Did they think she was someone else?
Then, standing by the entrance, was a woman dressed in a sleek black pantsuit. Tall, poised, eyes like glass.
"Miss Kaya," the woman said smoothly, extending a hand. "I'm Yuyan. The Boss is expecting you."
Boss. That word again. Her throat tightened.
"Come."
They passed through security without a single check. The staff nodded them through like they were ghosts.
Kaya stared around the marble lobby, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the building. Everything glowed, golden light, glass, money. This was another world.
The elevator ride was silent. Too fast. Too smooth.
Her knees trembled slightly as they rose past floor after floor.
What is happening? she thought. What am I doing here?
Then the doors opened.
And there he was.
Standing by a floor-to-ceiling window, hands in his pockets, black suit tailored to perfection. The skyline of Meiran blazed behind him like a kingdom made of light.
His head turned slowly.
Same eyes. Same cold, steady gaze.
Leon Feng.
The man from the club.
He looked at her like he was expecting her confusion.
"You clean up well," he said.
Kaya's jaw locked.
Now she remembered.
That voice.