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I turn, thrown off by her abrupt appearance.

No one else was supposed to show up.

For as large as Monroe’s building is, few people are ever around. Most work long hours and turn in for bed early in the evening. Other apartments are empty altogether.

The hallway on her floor is almost always unoccupied, except for when she quickly floats up and down it, coming and going.

The woman who has screamed out at me is barely five feet tall, wrapped in a thick floral housecoat and pale pink slippers with cartoon bears on them. Streaks of gray color her otherwise short black hair.

Most people would look at her and see a harmless little old woman.

Except I’m familiar enough with ajummas like her.

They’re as fierce and ferocious as any man three times their size. As loud and aggressive as can be, and no one dares stop them.

I’m a cold and emotionless captain in the most violent gang in South Korea. I often kill for a living. Yet as she starts toward me and demands to know what I’m doing, for a second I’m stuck on what the hell to say.

“I said,” she rants on, “what are you doing at that girl’s door?”

Her eyes rake over the length of me, making quick judgments of my character by things like the tattoos inking my skin and the leather jacket I’m wearing. Her expression sharpens.

“You her ex-boyfriend?” she demands loudly. “You look like nothing but trouble!”

I still don’t answer, throwing a furtive glance at Monroe’s door.

There’s no way she doesn’t hear the racket, unless she really is already in the shower. Still, a scene in front of her door is the last thing I want.

It’s ruinous for a mission like the one I’m on.

Even harmless rabbits like Monroe will pick up on what’s going on if she catches the man who marked her outside her apartment door.

“I’m Lee Soon-ja, the landlady,” the elder woman says, raising her chin as if there is no foot-long height difference between us. “I know the girl who lives in 9D well. She is sweet and quiet. She works hard and always pays early. I won’t let any troublemakers like you bother her!”

I glance at Monroe’s door, then back to the woman.

The hallway feels tighter now. The window for sneaking into her apartment has closed.

There’s no way this woman is about to leave me alone long enough to sneak inside.

I don’t answer her. I just step away, slowly and quietly at first, and then turn toward the elevator.

It’s still on the same floor, the doors opening at once. I’m stepping inside as I catch pieces of what the landlady mutters under her breath.

Something about “boys with no shame” and “poor foreign girls with no sense”.

The doors close and I ride the elevator down to the ground floor.

Tonight’s plan has been burned to ashes with no chance of succeeding. But I have an order from the Baekho-je to carry out, and I will do so no matter what.

I’ll be back for her, and the next time, she won’t be so lucky.

6.Monroe

“Moni!”

I hear her voice before I even spot her.

Mom barrels toward me like she’s coming in for a tackle. Her floral carry-on bag swings wildly from her shoulder, and her matching suitcase lurches behind her, the wheels trying to keep up.