⤷MASQUERADE || Jeon Jk FF ♡

part; ⁰³

The next day, the atmosphere inside the massive meeting room was suffocating, yet the silence held a tension that spoke louder than words. This was no ordinary gathering; seated around the grand table were five of the most powerful and dangerous figures in Korea-the sharks of both business and the underworld. These men controlled the country from the shadows, their influence stretching far beyond what the public could comprehend.

Their eyes were sharp, calculating, and each movement seemed to carry an invisible weight. Every glance, every subtle nod exchanged between them was steeped in secrets that could crush entire empires. Alongside them sat their heirs-the next generation groomed to take over the thrones of this empire of wealth and darkness.

The younger ones sat with an air of confidence and anticipation, though the pressure in the room weighed heavily on their shoulders. Each of them understood that this moment wasn't just about securing a place at the table-it was about survival.

The room was heavy with an almost palpable silence, thick enough to drown in. The walls, adorned with portraits of past leaders, seemed to watch over them, a reminder of the legacy they were here to inherit. The marble floor glistened under the light, reflecting the cold, calculated expressions of those present. No one spoke, yet the energy was electrifying.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and every person in the room immediately rose to their feet in unison. The tension snapped as the sound of their collective bow echoed across the room, heads lowering in reverence. All eyes were fixed on the doorway, their expressions frozen in disciplined respect.

The Godfather had arrived.

The head of the board entered, an old man, yet the sheer power he exuded made him appear larger than life. His steps were slow but deliberate, each one sending an unspoken message of authority that had been built over decades of ruthless control. His presence commanded immediate submission, his gaze alone enough to bring even the most hardened men to their knees.

Though his hair was silver and his face etched with lines of age, his aura remained untouchable, unyielding. His dark eyes scanned the room with an intensity that made the air grow colder, and the silence even thicker. He didn't need to speak to convey his dominance; it radiated from him like a force of nature.

The sharks of the business world, men feared by many, stood in humble submission before him, their heirs following suit, even though some of them had never bowed to anyone before. But this wasn't just any man. This was the Godfather, the ultimate puppet master, the one who controlled not only the board but the entire underworld.

With a simple nod, he acknowledged their respect, his expression unreadable as he made his way to the head of the table. His cane tapped softly against the marble floor, but the sound was like a drumbeat, marking the start of something far more significant than just a meeting. He took his seat at the center, and with him, the heart of the empire resumed its steady, powerful rhythm.

Everyone remained standing until he gave a slight wave of his hand, signaling for them to sit. The room shifted once more, the power dynamic realigning as they all took their seats, eyes focused, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Today, alliances would be tested, decisions made, and perhaps, secrets unraveled. But one thing was certain-the Godfather's word would be final.

"Welcome, Sharks,"

the Godfather began, his voice sharp and commanding as his gaze swept across the room, locking eyes with each and every one of them. The heads around the table nodded in unison, a silent acknowledgment of his authority.

But just as he was about to continue, a sudden sound echoed through the room-the unmistakable click of heels against the polished marble floor. Heads turned instantly, the air growing tense. No one ever dared to interrupt the Godfather.