Rain battered the tower's skin, running in serpentine rivulets down the length of EON's headquarters. The city below was muted, gray, and distant—a world CEO Choi Sung-woo controlled from on high. Inside, the boardroom's long table gleamed under recessed lights, its surface littered with the debris of an unexpectedly bad morning.
With a snap that cracked the tension, Choi hurled a folder across the glass. Pages fanned across the polished table, contracts and schedules fluttering like birds startled from a branch.
"She hasn't earned her keep. Not even close," he hissed, each word clipped as a blade. "After all I invested in Kwon Mirae, she thinks she can walk out because her fans are loud?"
Nobody met his gaze. The secretary, a slip of a woman, stared at her trembling notepad. Legal counsel—sweaty, awkward—fidgeted with a capped pen. Only Director Han matched Choi's icy rage, the older man's hands folded in calculated calm.
