VENGEANCE IN THE SHADOWS [KIM MINGYU]

{29} Drawn to the fire

Chapter 29

"Drawn to the fire"

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Mingyu stood shirtless in the center of his lavish home gym, the faint hum of air conditioning blending with the rhythmic thuds of his fists meeting the heavy bag.

The gym was a marvel of modern luxury state-of-the-art equipment lined one side of the spacious room, while the other was dedicated to martial arts, with padded walls, mirrors, and a boxing ring illuminated by overhead spotlights.

His muscles flexed with every punch, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin under the warm light.

His black workout shorts hung low on his hips, and the cross pendant around his neck swung with each powerful jab. His sharp jawline was set in determination, his dark eyes narrowed with a focus that could intimidate anyone watching.

Breathing heavily, Mingyu stepped back, rolling his neck to loosen the tension. He wrapped his taped hands around the punching bag, steadying it as his assistant cautiously entered the room.

"Boss," the assistant began, his tone careful. He knew better than to disturb Mingyu during his workouts unless it was something urgent.

Mingyu didn't turn around, instead wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel slung over a nearby bench.

"This better be important," he said, his voice low and clipped.

"It is," the assistant replied, holding out a phone. "It's about Alexander Whitfield."

That caught Mingyu's attention. He grabbed the towel, draping it over his shoulder, and turned to face the assistant. The look in his eyes was enough to make the man swallow nervously.

"What about him?" Mingyu asked, taking the phone with one hand while reaching for a water bottle with the other.

"He's ramping up efforts to find his daughter," the assistant explained quickly.

"He's activated his private network top resources, investigators, and even some people on the ground in neighboring areas. He's getting close, boss."

Mingyu's jaw tightened as he took a long sip of water, his eyes darkening. For a moment, the room seemed to grow colder. He set the bottle down with deliberate care, his fingers tapping against the counter.

"Close?" he repeated, his voice deceptively calm.

"Not close enough to be a problem yet," the assistant clarified quickly, "but he's relentless. If this keeps up-"

Mingyu cut him off with a sharp look, silencing any further explanation. He paced slowly around the punching bag, his steps measured, as though calculating every possible move in his mind.