C Group Tower — Moon's private suite
2:03 a.m.
I sat alone, barefoot on the cold marble floor, a velvet folder open in front of me. Surveillance reports. Boardroom transcripts. Silent footage of Ji-Ah leaving the building, her shoulders stiff with unshed fury.
And then—something strange.
One of my analysts had flagged a pattern. A set of financial movements cloaked beneath a cosmetic import shell company tied to Taeng's holdings.
My eyes sharpened.
Taeng Chirapaisarnsakul wasn't smart enough to hide this on her own.
No—this was coordinated.
And just as the thought bloomed, my phone vibrated.
1 New Message from: ColdMirror
> They're bringing in someone from Korea. A specialist. Not a hacker.
An insider. Someone who knew your father.
My breath hitched.
I tapped for more.
A name popped up.
Dr. Ethan Kwon.
I hadn't heard that name since I was eleven. After Dad's demise, even he disappeared.
My Father's old lab partner. Brilliant. Quiet. Sharp enough to be dangerous. He disappeared after my father's funeral.
And now he was working with Taeng?
No.
Not just working.
I opened the next file—and found a shocking detail: Ethan had been silently funding Taeng's biotech offshoot. The same shell division she tried hiding under the board.
She was building a lab.
With him.
To reconstruct what my father left behind.
Scene Break.
My mind raced as I stood up, pacing.
They don't just want to remove me. They want to erase my father's name entirely. Rewrite the AI legacy under theirs. Give Taeng a crown she didn't earn.
I gripped the back of the chair.
"Not while I'm breathing," She whispered.
—
Midnight.
Moon's secure lab.
Only two people had the clearance to be here. One was Myself. The other died over a decade ago.
The dusty hard drive sat under a biometric lock, hidden behind an old painting of my Father's favorite flower— Sweet Juliet.
I placed my palm on the scanner. It lit up green.
The chamber opened with a slow hiss.
I slid the drive into the black terminal and booted the system.
MIRRORLINE v.0.01a
Project: Juliet Sequence
Owner: Dr. Kawin Chirapaisarnsakul
A loading bar blinked, then dissolved into light.
The AI's voice was gentle, almost paternal.
> "Welcome, Chao-Fa."
My heart squeezed.
It was the name my Father used. Never Moon. Never Fowler.
Only Chao-Fa.
> "This archive contains memory modules, ethical firewalls, and predictive protocols.
If you're hearing this… I am gone."
I leaned forward.
> "I built this for the world. But not before I built it for you.
It will protect you. And it will show you the truth."
Images began to scroll—encrypted logs of experiments, research papers, video snippets of my Father laughing in the lab, of holding a baby Moon near flickering data screens.
And then—
A red-marked file.
"CONFIDENTIAL: THE ETHAN FAILURE."
I opened it.
My Father's recorded voice echoed across the empty lab.
> "Ethan betrayed the project. He tried to replicate Juliet's empathy core and sell it.
He thought feelings could be extracted. Programmed.
But you can't clone a heart."
> "I shut down his access. The board thought he vanished—but he didn't.
If he ever resurfaces, he'll come for you. For Juliet.
He wants to own what he could never create."
My throat tightened.
The betrayal wasn't just Taeng's.
It started long ago—with a man my Father once trusted. And now, that man was back. Backed by the family that wanted Moon gone.
I looked at the holographic code flowing across the screen.
It wasn't just software.
It was my Father's soul. His voice. His mind.
A living legacy wrapped in an algorithm.
I wiped my tears.
"This… this is the weapon."
I typed a new command:
PROJECT PHOENIX: INITIATE LOCKDOWN.
Then another:
TRACE ALL CONNECTIONS: Ethan Kwon | Taeng Chirapaisarnsakul | Zachary Wongluí | Kylan Chirapaisarnsakul.
And finally:
ARM CORE: JULIET DEFENSE PROTOCOL
The system hummed.
> "Command accepted.
Juliet is awake."
I stood in the dark, my eyes fierce.
"I'm not just going to win," She whispered. "I'm going to burn the rot out of this family's legacy."
And they'd never see it coming.
—---
Location: Moon's private executive suite
Time: 10:45 p.m. — The Night Before the Board Meeting
The room was lit only by the city's glow and the soft pulse of Juliet AI, hovering above a sleek holopad.
I stood at the head of a glass table, arms crossed, dressed in an obsidian silk suit with no jewelry—no badge. Just fire in my eyes.
Taeng and Kylan entered without knocking. Arrogance in heels and cologne.
"Nice ambiance," Taeng smirked. "What's the occasion? Your resignation party?"
I didn't smile. "Sit."
Kylan raised a brow. "You think you can order us?"
"I don't need to think," I replied. "I know."
Taeng scoffed. "You've been CEO for what—a week? Don't forget who holds the legacy."
I tapped the holopad.
AI emerged in the air like a ghost wrapped in light, her voice calm and precise.
> "Taeng Chirapaisarnsakul. Kylan Chirapaisarnsakul.
You are currently subjects of investigation under internal code S32—Family Misconduct and Biotechnical Espionage."
Taeng stood frozen.
"What… is this?" She asked.
I stepped forward.
"My Father's AI. Juliet. She's been dormant. Until I activated her last night. Now she's watching."
Kylan laughed. "You can't use your dead mother's pet project as a threat."
"Not a threat," I said. "Proof."
I turned the display.
A series of holographic receipts, secure call transcripts, and illegal tech transfers appeared—Taeng's signature embedded in every move. At the center: Dr. Ethan Kwon.
My voice dropped.
"You teamed up with the man who tried to dissect my father's mind like a machine. The one he warned me about. And you fed him his work—my birthright."
Taeng's voice shook. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I do," I snapped. "And Juliet confirmed it. She predicted this. She coded a firewall to lock all of you out if any part of her architecture detected your names."
Kylan stepped forward. "You can't do this. You don't have the votes."
I leaned in.
"I don't need votes. I have eyes. Juliet has archived everything."
I paused. "And tomorrow morning, the board will see it."
Taeng paled.
"You'd destroy the entire board's reputation to get revenge?"
"No," I said. "I'll cleanse it to honor my father's vision. And if it means cutting off the rot—even if it's family—so be it."
Kylan's fists clenched.
My voice softened into ice.
"Your reign ends tomorrow. Say your goodbyes to C Group, cousins."
—
Location: C Group Executive Boardroom
Time: 9:00 a.m.
The room was packed. Media outside. Internal PR officers on edge. Board members sat tall, dressed to dominate. Cameras blinked red.
Ms. Thanawan sat smugly at the far end. Taeng and Kylan flanked her.
I entered last—calm, composed, dressed in white this time. A symbol. Not of purity.
Of rebirth.
I placed my holopad on the table and began:
"Before we start, I've uploaded a security protocol linked to our internal AI architecture. It's called Juliet. Created by Dr. Kawin Chirapaisarnsakul."
Gasps stirred.
"Impossible," Ms. Thanawan said. "That project was lost."
"No," I said. "It was buried. Because my father feared what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands."
I tapped the display.
Juliet's voice echoed like thunder in silk.
> "C Group has been infiltrated by two internal factions—led by Taeng Chirapaisarnsakul and Kylan Chirapaisarnsakul.
They sought to reconstruct and sell AI code without board approval, in collaboration with Dr. Ethan Kwon.
This violates Articles 3, 7, and 12 of the Family Corporate Charter."
Screens lit up. Evidence poured out.
Calls. Money trails. Password traces.
Every whisper they thought was hidden—exposed.
Thanawan stood. "This is madness! She faked this—"
"Juliet is coded with uneditable blockchain logging," I said. "Every record is court-admissible and timestamped. Try to deny it. I dare you."
Silence.
Kylan spoke, voice low. "What do you want?"
I walked toward the window, looking out over the city My Father once dreamed of protecting.
"I want the board to vote. Here. Now. Expel Taeng and Kylan permanently. And launch an official investigation into Ms. Thanawan's involvement."
One by one, the board voted.
Unanimous.
I turned, eyes burning.
"Let this be known—my father's dream will no longer be poisoned by cowards in suits. And if anyone here still thinks I'm just a ghost in his shadow—"
I pointed at the Juliet AI, glowing above me.
"—then remember: ghosts don't haunt.
They rise."