Naruse's office looked pristine on the outside—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling glass, the faint scent of imported cologne clinging to the air. But inside, the man who sat behind the polished desk was anything but composed.
He stared at a surveillance image of Aoi walking out of her company gate, her smile radiant, the sunlight kissing her face. Her long hair fluttered in the wind, and she looked like a dream—his dream.
Naruse's fingers drummed across the desk, knuckles tense.
"She should've been mine."
The heir to one of the country's oldest conglomerates, Naruse had never heard the word no. Until Aoi. And worse—she had chosen someone like Ren. Quiet, unremarkable Ren. The one who didn't even flaunt his power.
But Naruse knew better now.
He had investigated Ren's every move.
He had seen the hidden land purchases. The AI startup cloaked under obscure shell names. The black-market-grade hardware orders. The whispers of advanced defense tech.
Ren's dangerous. Too dangerous.
But Naruse had money. And contacts.
And a plan.
He turned to the shadowed man standing silently in the corner of the office.
"Make the arrangements. I want her isolated. Just a few hours… to remind her who she really belongs to."
The man nodded once and disappeared without a sound.
Naruse stood, walked to the window, and looked out over Tokyo's skyline.
"She's too smart to fall for sweet words now," he murmured. "So it's time for something stronger."
He reached for his phone.
"Call the van. Track her schedule. I want her… Friday night. When she leaves that art gala."
Meanwhile, at the AI Lab
Ren sat on the floor of his hidden lab, sleeves rolled up, wires and crystal components spread before him like a scattered puzzle. Lucia hovered beside him, her internal AI analyzing every new algorithm he fed into the system.
"Current progress: 41%," Lucia announced. "Nanotech mesh prototype one has stabilized. You are ahead of schedule."
"Good," Ren muttered. "But it's not enough yet."
He soldered a delicate circuit, then glanced toward the window, the wind whispering through the trees outside.
He could feel it.
Something was coming.
Lucia's voice chimed again.
"Ren… would you like me to run predictive threat modeling again?"
"No need," Ren said, darkly. "They'll come for her soon. But they'll find I'm not done building hell."
Elsewhere
Aoi stood before the mirror in the hallway of her company building, adjusting her scarf.
A colleague passed by and whispered, "Going to that art gala, huh? Fancy."
She smiled politely. "Just a quiet night."
But behind her calm voice… a strange chill was crawling down her spine.