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But I couldn’t be more wrong.

Out of the silence and stillness between us, Monroe leaps at her bed.

I realize half a second later what she’s trying to do—she’s diving for her phone.

I lunge toward her, almost not quick enough. If I were any slower, I wouldn’t intercept her. Unluckily for her, I have excellent reflexes, even when I am a second or two late.

As her fingertips brush the sides of her phone, I’m spearing into her, ripping her away from its reach.

She’s light enough that I’m able to pick her up off her feet easily. I toss her to the ground much like my enforcer Min-gyu had the night in the alley. I return to the bed to grab her phone, then drop that too, crushing it under the weight of my boot.

It makes a satisfyingcrunchas the screen cracks.

I grind my heel into it, doubling the damage, ensuring it’s inoperable.

Monroe’s pushed herself up onto her elbows, peering up at me like I repulse her.

For that brief moment, the fear is gone. I see a flicker of loathing in her dark, emotive eyes.

It piques my interest, like several other things about her have. I’m on the verge of rare laughter at the thought she hates me, only for her to surprise me a second time in mere moments.

Monroe scrambles up and bolts for the door.

She’s running for it.

I sprint after her. I admit, she’s faster than I anticipated.

If I had sent one of my bulkier, heavier Hubaes to kill her, she may have even made it out of the apartment with how quick she moves.

But even as she speeds toward the front door, I easily overtake her, my strides long and efficient. I beat her there by a fraction of a second. She’s grappling for the doorknob as I slam my hand against it and prevent her from even thinking she’ll pry it open.

“You’re a fast one, Tokki-ya,” I taunt. An informal term for little rabbit. “But what have I told you? You will never outrun the mark. You will never escape the Baekho Pa.”

She spins away from the door, arrowing straight for the table against the wall. Her hand closes around a can of air freshener before I can grab it away from her, and she sprays it directly into my eyes.

The sting is immediate and brutal.

I release a howl that almost sounds unlike myself. My eyes clench shut as the chemicals flood me. It feels like I’ve been doused in fucking flames the way the burning pain erupts across my eyeballs.

Monroe takes a page out of my book and shows no mercy.

She jerks her leg up to knee me in the groin. Almost blind and now pissed, I’m barely able to block her hit, only just catching her by the thigh and shoving her backward.

But I’m still in the way of the door. She can’t leave until she finds a way past me.

She grabs a ceramic vase next and flings it at my head.

I duck in time to avoid most of the ceramic shrapnel from cutting up my face. Only one piece nicks me across the brow.

Am I really fucking losing a fight to a weakling like Monroe Ross?

Clearly I’ve underestimated the girl. She may be a little rabbit caught in a snare, but she has teeth. She has enough bite to at least attempt fighting back.

I release another howl, this one throatier and rage fueled.

Her next idea is to go for the kitchen. I match her, racing her to the counter. My eyes are still burning, watering from the chemicals, but I push through the pain and keep them open in a squint.

She’s going for the block of knives resting on her kitchen counter.