Jean felt her stomach drop when she caught a glimpse. It was a picture of her and Logan, standing close, mid-argument. But the angle… the lighting… It painted a completely different story.
In the image, Logan's body was tilted toward hers, his face intense, his hand nearly brushing her arm. Jean, lips parted in anger, looked as if she were caught in a heated moment with him.
To an outsider, they didn't look like two rivals locked in a battle of words.
They looked like lovers caught in secret.
"Perfect," Junho mused, swiping the screen before flashing it toward them. "Just the right amount of tension, don't you think? A little scandal never hurt anyone."
Logan's rage simmered dangerously. "You slimy insect…!Why are you dragging me into this?"
"Ah, ah." Junho raised a hand, amusement flickering in his gaze. "We wouldn't want this going viral, would we?"
Jean's fingers curled into fists. "What the hell do you want, Junho? This is too much now."
Junho took a slow step forward, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Oh, nothing much. Just a little… compensation for the humiliation you caused me." His voice dipped, a mockery of sincerity. "You see, Jean, people talk. And right now, they're talking about you."
Jean clenched her jaw.
Junho's smirk widened. "So, you have two choices. Either I let this picture find its way into some very influential hands… or you play nice. Go pack your bags and leave South Korea."
Logan took a step toward him, but Junho only chuckled, lifting the phone. "Careful, Kingsley. Wouldn't want a misunderstanding, now would we? We can take more snaps of you fighting me, if you want."
Jean's mind raced.
This was a trap. And they had walked right into it.
Logan's glare could have burned through steel, but for the first time that night, Jean wasn't sure how they were going to get out of this.
Jean's breath hitched as the weight of the situation came crashing down on her. If that picture got out, her family, the media, the entire corporate world for Adams, everything would be in shambles.
Her father's cold, scrutinizing eyes flashed in her mind. She couldn't let this happen. Her mother would never let her see another daylight.
The air grew thick with tension as Jean's pulse raced. The yacht rocked slightly, the waves lapping more aggressively against its hull as the sky darkened.
She barely noticed at first, too focused on Junho sprawled on the deck, his phone just out of reach. Her heart pounded in her ears. If she didn't get to it first, everything would spiral out of control.
Her body moved before she could think. With quick, determined strides, she marched toward Junho, fury igniting her veins. Before he could react, she shoved him with all her might.
The force caught him off guard, sending him sprawling onto the polished wooden deck. The phone tumbled from his grasp, bouncing once, twice…
There. Her target.
A low rumble echoed through the sky, a warning growl from the heavens. The wind howled as Jean lunged forward, her fingers outstretched. Victory was within reach… But just as her fingertips grazed the edge, another hand snatched it up with swift precision.
Farah.
"Too slow, Miss Adams," she taunted, her voice barely audible over the increasing roar of the ocean.
Jean's head snapped up, her heart pounding as she met Farah's smug, composed expression. The woman straightened, holding the phone up like a prize, her lips curling in satisfaction.
"You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" Farah mused, tilting the phone in her hand tauntingly.
Jean's nails dug into her palms as frustration and dread mixed in her chest. She turned, half-expecting Logan to have reacted… only to find him still standing, frozen, watching the scene unfold with an unreadable expression.
Then, as if shaken from his daze, Logan's jaw tightened. His eyes darted between Jean, Junho, and the phone in Farah's grasp. The realization of what had just transpired settled over him like a dark cloud.
Jean's chest tightened. She turned sharply toward Junho, her fury burning hotter than the lightning flashing overhead. "You bastard! What do you want from me?"
Junho groaned from the floor, glaring up at Jean as he dusted himself off. "Tsk, tsk, Jean. That wasn't very ladylike," he drawled, a smirk playing at his lips despite the clear irritation in his eyes. "Getting violent over a simple photo? Now, what would your family think?"
Another crack of thunder split the sky, and the rain came down in a torrential sheet. The deck grew slick, the yacht lurching slightly, causing everyone to stumble.
The guests who had been enjoying themselves moments ago now shrieked, grabbing onto whatever they could for balance. Crew members rushed to stabilize the vessel.
But no one came to the private deck area.
Jean clenched her fists, her breath ragged. "Delete it," she demanded, her voice cold and unwavering.
Farah merely chuckled, slipping the phone into her pocket. "Now, now, Miss Adams. That's not how deals work."
Jean felt a new wave of panic rising, but she refused to let it show. Her mind raced. She needed that phone. And fast.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the hatred in Jean's eyes. She clenched her fists, knowing this was far from over. The storm was just beginning… both outside and within.
The storm raged on, fierce winds howling through the open deck of the yacht. Rain pelted down in relentless sheets, making the surface slick and treacherous.
The ocean beneath them churned violently, sending tremors through the massive vessel as it struggled against the growing waves.
Logan, now fully comprehending what had just transpired, took a slow, menacing step forward, his voice low and lethal. "You're playing a dangerous game, Junho."
Junho only grinned wider. "Oh, Kingsley, you should know by now—I love games."
Jean's heart pounded in her ears. She had to think. She had to act. Before it was too late.
Jean had no choice.
She couldn't trust Junho to delete the photo even if she backed down. He had planned this too carefully, calculated every move, ensuring she would have no escape. But she wasn't going to let him win.