Truth in the Chairman's Office
The Runcandel Vision HQ rose like a monument of glass and steel, sunlight bending along its sharp, elegant lines. Even from the outside, it felt less like a corporate building and more like a declaration.
Jodie Starling stood at the entrance longer than she intended.
"…This is better than the photos," she muttered.
Stepping inside only deepened the shock. The lobby was vast, minimalist, alive with quiet efficiency. A glowing Runcandel crest hovered subtly above the reception desk.
She approached.
"I want to meet the chairman," Jodie said calmly.
The receptionist smiled professionally.
"May I have your name?"
"Jodie Starling."
The smile didn't falter—but the receptionist's eyes sharpened with recognition. She tapped her tablet once, then gestured toward a private elevator.
"Please proceed. The chairman is expecting you."
Jodie's brow creased slightly.
No questions. No delay.
She nodded and stepped into the elevator.
The Chairman's Office
The doors opened to silence.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Paris skyline. The office itself was spacious yet restrained—power without excess.
At the desk sat Keith Argus Runcandel, reviewing reports. Platinum-silver hair. Sapphire-blue eyes.
He looked up.
"Please," he said, pointing toward the sofa. "Have a seat."
Jodie nodded and sat. Keith closed the report file and moved to the chair opposite her, posture relaxed but attentive.
Before she could speak, he said calmly:
"Before I tell you why I asked to meet you… may I ask you something first?"
Jodie hesitated only a second. "Go ahead."
"Do you love Shuichi Akai?"
The question landed without warning.
Jodie inhaled slowly… then nodded.
"Yes."
Her voice didn't shake—but her eyes did.
She began speaking, almost as if she'd been waiting for permission.
"How we met. Training in Hawaii. How he was distant but kind. How I thought he understood me. How we grew close."
She paused.
"And how he left. Without explanation."
Keith listened without interruption.
When she finished, he asked softly, "How exactly did you meet?"
"At a training center in Hawaii," Jodie repeated.
Keith exhaled quietly—almost a sigh.
"I see."
He stood, walked to the desk, and picked up a thin digital file. With a flick of his wrist, he slid it across the table toward her.
"Then let's talk about Shuichi Akai."
Jodie frowned and opened it.
Her breath stopped.
Name: Shuichi Akai
Mother: Mary Sera – MI6 operative
Father: MI6 operative
Background: British intelligence family, multi-generational
Jodie stared.
"…MI6?"
Keith nodded.
"Now," he continued evenly,
"tell me—can someone with a two-generation MI6 background freely join another intelligence agency?"
Jodie's lips parted.
"No," she whispered. "They need a… reference."
"A strong one," Keith said.
"Preferably from the FBI. Someone with deep roots."
Her hands tightened around the tablet.
Keith looked her straight in the eyes.
"And among FBI agents… who has a two-generation FBI background?"
Jodie swallowed hard.
"…Me."
The realization hit her like a physical blow.
Keith's voice didn't change.
"Shuichi Akai didn't fall in love with you, Jodie."
"He needed you."
She shook her head weakly. "No—he—"
"He used your name," Keith said gently but firmly,
"to gain legitimacy. To access classified channels. To investigate the people he believed killed his father."
He paused.
"The Black Organization."
The tablet slipped slightly in her hands.
"…So everything," Jodie whispered, "was a lie?"
Keith didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he said quietly,
"He may have cared. But his purpose came first."
Silence swallowed the room.
Jodie lowered her head, shoulders trembling—not loudly, not dramatically—but completely broken.
"…I was just a key," she murmured.
"A door he needed to open."
Keith leaned forward.
"You were never stupid," he said.
"You were targeted."
Tears fell freely now, splashing onto the glass surface of the table.
"I trusted him," she whispered.
"I know," Keith replied.
And for the first time since she entered, Jodie felt something unfamiliar—not manipulation, not strategy—
—but honesty.