Page 101 of K-Pop Double Life

“It’s about to become a bigger problem. Korean media picked it up. They’re asking for statements from Starhouse about Jin’s safety and about his relationship with staff members.”

“What are you telling them?”

“Nothing yet. But I can’t stonewall forever.” Her voice was tight. “Aidan, if this relationship becomes public before we’re ready to manage it⁠—”

“Then we deal with it. But right now, keeping Jin alive is more important than managing his image.” I looked at Liam. “We’re flying to Seoul tomorrow. I need you to have a crisis management plan ready, but don’t execute anything until after the final show.”

“And if the media forces our hand before then?”

“Then we confirm Jin and Sang-hoon are close colleagues, that Sang-hoon acted heroically to protect a member of the group, and that Starhouse appreciates his dedication. Nothing more.”

“That’s not going to satisfy anyone.”

“It doesn’t have to. It just has to buy us four days.” I hung up and looked at Liam. “I don’t think we have any other choice but to let Sara Yoon, or another of her agents, come to us. We lock down World Cup Stadium, we control every variable we can control, and we wait for her to make her move. And when she does, we’ll be ready.”

“That’s a hell of a gamble,” he said.

“You have a better plan?”

“Not really.” He shook his head.

I drummed my fingers on the table. “But if we’re wrong, if she’s smarter than we think or if we miss something⁠—”

“Then Jin dies and we spend the rest of our lives knowing we failed.” He stood, yawned. “It’s late, and we have an early flight tomorrow to Seoul.”

He pulled me close, and kissed me briefly. “We’re going to catch her in Seoul, we’re going to end this, and then we’re going to go home to France and not think about K-pop for at least six months. I have faith in us.”

I smiled. “Four more days. We can do anything in four days.”

41

COUNTDOWN

JIN — SEOUL

Saturday June 6, 2026

The knock came Saturday morning at five AM, just as I finished buttoning a clean shirt. Three quiet taps. Sang-hoon glanced at me for permission before opening the door.

Eun-ji and Sun-hee-noona stood outside. Neither looked as though she’d slept.

“May we come in?” Eun-ji asked.

Something tightened in my chest. She only used that tone when she already knew the answer to a question.

Sun-hee-noona carried her tablet against her chest. Eun-ji had her phone in one hand. They sat opposite us in the suite’s small sitting area.

For a moment no one spoke. “There are photographs from last night’s show,” Eun-ji said. “Sang-hoon, someone in the audience spotted you going after the woman with the knife, then you on the ground, bleeding.”

Beside me, Sang-hoon swallowed hard. Then Eun-ji turned to me. “Many more photos of you rushing offstage to comfort him, then the two of you together.”

Sun-hee-noona unlocked the tablet and turned it toward us. The first photograph showed Sang-hoon tackling Kristina Mueller. Then a series of photos of him wrestling with her for the knife, then getting cut. Sun-hee-noona swiped through picture after picture, me kneeling beside him while the paramedics worked. Then me kissing his forehead as they lifted him onto a stretcher.

I turned to Sang-hoon. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He looked at me in surprise. “For what?”

“I should have been more careful.”