الصوت المشترك

He heard her voice through a closed door. And forgot every word he was about to say. Twelve years. Three continents. An empire built from nothing. And she still sounded like the only thing that ever mattered. Kim Wu Jin stood up from the most important meeting of his week, walked to the door of his boardroom, and found her standing in his corridor — tablet in hand, head down, giving instructions to someone like she owned the air in the room. She looked up. The sentence she was speaking died. The