Page 101 of Ruthless Touch

The lobby buzzes with Seoul’s elite, guests weaving between clusters of people who seem to be here as much to see and be seen as to actually use the hotel’s services.

The bar area overflows with socialites nursing expensive cocktails while the restaurant entrance displays a tasteful placard announcing the Rhee Family dinner in elegant script.

I can’t risk walking into that dining room—too many eyes, too much exposure, too many ways for this to go wrong before I even find KD.

Instead, I duck down an employee-only hallway, betting if KD’s here to execute a hit at an event like this, he’ll be undercover as service staff.

That’s our usual play when on missions like these.

The kitchen is a symphony of chaos, chefs barking orders while servers weave between prep stations. I duck behind a stainless steel table, scanning the area for any sign of him.

A few servers flit by a doorway that leads into another hall that seems to be lined with lockers.

That must be where the staff changes into their uniform.

I sneak back out of the kitchen, slipping into that hall before any of the chefs and servers notice me. I’m halfway down the corridor when an old, bald Korean man appears from one of the doors on the left.

“What are you doing?” he barks in Korean, his hands on his waist.

I freeze, my mind racing through options—incapacitate him and stuff him in a broom closet, create a distraction,ortry to bluff my way through. But before I can make up my mind, he reaches his own conclusion about my presence.

“Get changed! The dinner service begins in ten minutes!”

I nod fervently, relief flooding me. He’s assumed I’m one of the staff.

The changing room contains racks of identical black uniforms in various men’s and women’s sizes. I quickly slip into one that fits well enough to pass inspection.

I’m adjusting the collar, scanning the area for any sign of KD’s familiar bulk.

When I return to the hallway outside the kitchens, that’s when I spot him—broad shoulders unmistakable even in the server’s uniform, his attention focused on something on his wrist.

The agency’s smartwatch, no doubt loaded with whatever intelligence and timing he needs for tonight’s operation.

I approach from behind, striding over so silently he doesn’t hear me coming until I want him to.

“You have five seconds to give up, or I’ll stop you myself.”

TWENTY-ONE

GUN

Today has been pure hell.From the long syndicate meetings at the headquarters to personal squabbles going on in my crew.

It’s been one thing after another.

Now the shitty day has turned into an even shittier night, culminating in a family event I never asked to attend.

I walk through the Bellmare’s revolving doors with the enthusiasm of a man heading to his own execution, my shoulders set in a sullen line that broadcasts my mood to anyone with eyes.

A couple of young Korean women glance over with obvious interest, probably drawn by the expensive suit and the dangerous energy I exude. They must know I’m Ho-seok’s younger, riskier, bad-behaved brother.

But it doesn’t matter to them—they see dollar signs when they look at me.

I completely ignore them, not in my usual flirtatious party mood. The truth is, I’d rather be at the loft with Elise.

Tonight was supposed to be our movie night, and she’d sounded disappointed when I told her I wouldn’t be home ’til later.

I’ve shut off my phone like the event requests, which means I’m cut off from her for the next three or four hours—easily the most boring evening I’ll endure this year.