PRESENT DAY
CELESTE
Lab 4 became my new prison the moment the biometric lock clicked behind me.
The space was smaller than I expected-clinical white walls, stainless steel workstations, monitors displaying strings of genetic code that glowed blue in the dim lighting. No windows. Just fluorescent lights humming overhead and the sterile smell of disinfectant that made my stomach turn.
A guard had escorted me from the penthouse, silent and efficient, his hand hovering near his weapon the entire elevator ride down. He'd pressed his thumb to the scanner, opened the door, and gestured for me to enter.
"Wait here," he'd said in accented English. "Mr. Choi will arrive shortly."
That was twenty minutes ago.
I stood at the main workstation, my hands flat on the cold steel surface, trying to steady my breathing. Trying not to think about Luna alone in that gilded cage upstairs. Trying not to remember the last time I'd been in a lab with Jae-won.
The door lock beeped.
I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I felt him enter the same way you feel a storm approach-a shift in air pressure, a charge that made every nerve ending stand at attention.
"Leave us," Jae-won said to the guard.
"Sir, protocol requires-"
"I said leave."
The guard hesitated, then retreated. The door closed with a finality that made my chest tighten.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
I kept my eyes on the monitor in front of me, watching code scroll past without really seeing it. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain he could hear it.
He moved closer. I tracked his approach in my peripheral vision-black suit, hands in pockets, every step deliberate and controlled. He stopped behind me. Too close. Close enough that I could smell his cologne, subtle and expensive, exactly the same as I remembered.
"The decryption," he said, his voice cold and flat. "Now. Consider it your first test."
I forced myself to turn and face him.
Three years had carved him into something harder, but up close, I could see details the distance had hidden. A small scar above his left eyebrow that hadn't been there before. New lines around his eyes. The way his jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
"What decryption?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.
He pulled a flash drive from his pocket and set it on the workstation between us. "Your father's research. The data you stole when you disappeared. It's encrypted. You're going to unlock it."
"And if I refuse?"
His eyes-God, those eyes that used to look at me like I was the only person in the world-went colder. "Then that child doesn't get into the trial. Simple."
The threat landed like a physical blow. I grabbed the edge of the workstation to keep myself upright.
"You're using a sick child as leverage."
"I'm using an asset to secure what's mine." He leaned closer, his presence a wall of simmering anger. "You took three years from me, Celeste. You took research that cost millions to develop. You vanished without a trace. Did you think there wouldn't be consequences?"
"I had reasons-"
"I don't care about your reasons." His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. "I care about results. Decrypt the files. Prove you're worth the resources I'm wasting on that child upstairs."
That child. He said it like Luna was a line item on a budget report. Like she wasn't his daughter. Like she was nothing.
Rage flared hot in my chest, but I swallowed it down. Getting angry wouldn't help Luna. Nothing would help Luna except getting her into that trial.
I picked up the flash drive. "I'll need access to the main server. And full permissions on this terminal."
"Already done." He gestured at the workstation. "Everything you need is here. I'll be watching."
He moved to a chair against the wall and sat, his posture relaxed but his eyes tracking my every movement like a predator watching prey.
I plugged in the drive and started working.
The encryption was sophisticated-my father's design, layers upon layers of security that would take most people months to crack. But I'd helped build it. I knew the backdoors. The hidden pathways. The sequences he'd embedded based on my mother's birthday, my childhood address, things only family would know.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, and despite everything, despite the fear and anger and desperation, I felt something familiar stir. The focus. The challenge. The pure intellectual puzzle of it.
"You're using a brute force approach," Jae-won said from behind me. "Inefficient."
"I'm using a targeted approach based on known parameters," I countered without turning around. "There's a difference."
"Your parameters are reckless. You'll trigger the lockout protocol."
I stopped typing and turned to glare at him. "My parameters are calculated based on my father's encryption methodology. Unless you've suddenly become an expert on his work, I suggest you let me do my job."
"Your job is to deliver results. Not waste time on theoretical approaches."
"Your goal is mercenary profit, not scientific integrity," I shot back. "So forgive me if I don't trust your judgment on methodology."
The air between us crackled.
He stood and crossed the room in three strides, leaning over my shoulder to look at the screen. His proximity made my skin burn. Made it hard to breathe.
"This sequence here." His finger pointed at a line of code. "You're approaching it wrong."
"I'm approaching it exactly right."
"Then why hasn't it worked yet?"
Because I was distracted. Because having him this close was making my hands shake. Because I could remember other times we'd stood like this, working late in the lab, the professional boundaries dissolving into something electric and inevitable.
"It takes time," I said through gritted teeth.
"Time you don't have." He straightened but didn't move away. "Your daughter's condition is progressive. Every day you waste is a day closer to irreversible damage."
The words hit like a slap.
I turned back to the screen, blinking away tears I refused to let him see, and adjusted my approach. Not because he was right. Because I couldn't afford to be wrong.
We fell into a rhythm-me working, him watching, occasionally interjecting with observations that were technically sound but delivered like weapons. It was a technical duel, every exchange loaded with subtext. Every correction a reminder of what we used to be. What we'd destroyed.
The ghost of our old synergy hung between us, twisted into something bitter and sharp.
"There," I finally said, as the first layer of encryption fell away. "Happy now?"
He leaned in to look at the screen, and I felt his breath against my neck.
"It's a start," he said quietly.
Then he straightened and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
He paused, his hand on the door handle, and looked back at me over his shoulder.
"To check on the child. Someone should." His expression was unreadable. "Does the father know you're here?"
He didn't wait for an answer. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I stared at the closed door, my heart hammering. The question hung in the air like poison. He thought-he actually thought Luna was someone else's child.
I stared at the screen, at the data I'd just unlocked, and realized with cold certainty that this was only the beginning.
The decryption would take days.
And Jae-won planned to be there for every second of it.