Chapter 1
Seo Yuna was twenty-nine, a quiet 177 centitres (5′10″), and striking beauty in a way that made people straighten their backs without knowing why.
She ca from old money—one of the founding conglorate families that shaped modern Korea. Her grandfather laid the first telephone cables after the war, her father built highways and power lines. Their company, Nara Group, beca the backbone of modern Korea—roads, bridges, subway tunnels, even the street-lights many people took for granted.
But Yuna did not coast on her surna. At twenty-three she earned two degrees—civil engineering and finance. At twenty-four she fixed a half-built coastal highway no one else could save, finishing it early and under budget.
When her father had a stroke three years ago, the board expected a caretaker. Instead they got Yuna, calm as ice and twice as sharp. She fired two corrupt directors her first week and never raised her voice doing it.
The dia called her The Ice Queen. But Yuna didn't care. She didn't need to be liked. She needed results. And she got them.
On this Monday she walked into the boardroom at 9:10 a.m. sharp. Twelve n were already seated. They rose the mont she stepped in. She's young, beautiful, and more powerful than any man in the room.
⸻
"Let's begin," she said.
The room moved like clockwork.
Agenda 1 – East Coast Highway
Mr. Do, Chief of Finance, cleared his throat. "Chairwoman, the Ministry of Land has accelerated the schedule. They want the East Coast highway launched before winter."
He paused, eyes flicking to his tablet.
"Projected cost: around nine trillion won."
Yuna didn't blink. "Too much."
A beat of silence.
"Buy steel early, before the international rate jumps again. Lock in the volu now, not next quarter. And stop importing cent — find a local supplier. We're not paying logistics for ego."
Mr. Do hesitated. "That might delay—"
"Then work faster. Eight trillion, or it doesn't happen."
The finance team scribbled notes. No one objected again.
⸻
Agenda 2 – Rural Internet Complaints
Ms. Kang, Head of Public Affairs, took over.
"Chairwoman, we're receiving complaints from farming communities. Our new fiber-optic cables are being laid through rice fields and irrigation lines. So are threatening to block installation."
Yuna barely reacted. "What do they lose?"
Ms. Kang blinked. "Privacy. Land access. They claim disruption to crops."
"Then give them sothing better. Let them access the line for free. Internet for their pumps, tractors, whatever makes their lives easier. Fra it as modernization, not intrusion."
She glanced around.
"We want them quiet, not angry. But it doesn't hurt if they say thank you."
Heads nodded.
⸻
Agenda 3 – Delayed Mountain Tunnel Project
Mr. Han, Head of Civil Engineering, adjusted his tie.
"Chairwoman, the tunnel construction in the Gangwon mountain area is facing resistance. The local residents filed a petition to stop night drilling. They're citing noise, vibrations, and structural damage to nearby hos."
Yuna tilted her head slightly. "How long is the delay?"
"Two weeks so far. If it stretches to a month, it could push the entire logistics route back to spring."
Yuna's tone sharpened. "Night work is non-negotiable. We can't afford to lose winter prep ti."
Mr. Han nodded. "We're trying to negotiate."
"Don't negotiate. Offer to retrofit nearby houses with soundproof windows — our cost. Quiet the noise, not the work. Make it look like generosity."
He opened his mouth to respond, but she was already onto the next point.
"And file a counter-statent through a third-party source. Talk about job creation, long-term economic growth, and disaster prevention. Drown the complaints in facts."
Another silence. Then a quiet, collective nod.
The eting lasted nineteen minutes. No shouting. No drawn-out slides. Just clean decisions and faster thinking than any of them could match.
As they gathered their things, Yuna remained seated, flipping through her own copy of the agenda.
"Next week we discuss land acquisition for the southern port. Co with better numbers."
"Yes, Chairwoman."
⸻
Yuna's office looked like a private gallery—spacious, silent, and expensive. The floor was polished stone, cool and flawless. One wall was covered in glass, stretching from floor to ceiling, offering a view of Seoul's skyline in clean, sharp angles.
She stood in front of that window now, a phone in her hand.
The line rang. No answer.
She tried once more.
Still nothing.
By the fifth attempt, her face hadn't changed. But her hand was tense at the wrist, her fingers holding the phone tighter than before.
Her thumb moved again, this ti opening another app—a GPS tracker she had quietly installed long ago. It wasn't sothing she used often, but it was always there. Just in case.
"Location not found."
Her eyes didn't blink. She stared at the blank screen. The tracker had been turned off.
Yuna stood still, the phone lowering just slightly.
He turned it off.
For a mont, she didn't move.
She locked the phone and set it face-down on the desk beside her. There was no outburst and no expression of anger from her.
But sothing in the air changed. The room, bright and silent, suddenly felt colder.
She did not ask herself why he hadn't answered.
She only wondered where he got the audacity to ignore her call.
Behind her, the office door opened with a soft click.
Yoo Harin entered, tablet held close.
"Chairwoman," she said gently, "today's afternoon schedule is confird."
Yuna did not turn around. Her gaze remained on the glass window in front of her, unmoved.
"List it."
"Yes, Chairwoman," Harin replied. "First, you have a 1:00 p.m. investor update with the North Harbor consortium—estimated at forty minutes. Then a strategic review with the Daeyang steel team at 2:10. They want to renegotiate next quarter's supply terms."
Yuna gave no reaction.
"Continue."
"3:30, a eting with Minister Jung's chief aide. They've requested federal oversight on the East Coast highway budget. After that, there's a video call with Jeju's logistics office. And lastly, at five, MBN's dia team wants you to approve the gala layout before it goes public. They requested twenty minutes only."
Harin paused.
Yuna didn't speak. She didn't nod. But sothing in her posture changed—a slow exhale, a shift in weight that spoke more than words.
Then her voice ca, cool and steady.
"Is anything urgent?"
"No, Chairwoman," Harin replied softly. "But—"
"Cancel all of it."
Harin hesitated. "All of it, Chairwoman?"
"Yes."
"Should I postpone, or…?"
Yuna finally turned around. Her expression was calm, but her tone had no warmth.
"I'm going ho."
"Would you like a reason added to the internal log?"
"Personal ti," she said simply. "That's all they need to know."
Harin nodded, lowering the tablet slowly. "Yes, Chairwoman."
Without another word, Yuna crossed the room, picked up her black wool coat from the armchair, and slipped it on with smooth precision.
Her heels clicked against the pale stone floor—asured and firm.
She reached the door, paused with one hand on the fra.
"Make sure no one calls," she said. "Not investors. Not press. Not governnt."
"I understand."
And then she left.
The door closed behind her with a soft, final click.
User Comments
0 comments from readers