Page 110 of Ruthless Touch

But I don’t need one and Elise knew that too—I get exactly what it means and why.

Elise is drowning in grief and guilt. She’s convinced herself it’s best if she handles this alone to prevent anyone else getting hurt.

So she snuck out in the middle of the night while I was sleeping and she’s out there somewhere, walking straight into a death trap.

For as determined and resilient as she is, she’s still one woman. She’s still human. She can’t take out the entire Cheongryong on her own.

And that’s where I come in—I’m the person willing to be by her side. I’m willing to lay my life on the line if it means bringing her peace, happiness, and healing.

I never would’ve imagined it even a few weeks ago. I was more about soaking up the party life and finding ways to impress Father.

My loyalty was to him and the Cheongryong only.

But that was foolish. That was misguided because, in the end, it was undeserved. It was me trying to prove my worth to people who would never truly accept me.

That ends now. There’s only one person I want to prove my loyalty to—whodeservesfor me to—and she’s the woman I’ve fallen for.

I rush out of bed, showering and changing in ten minutes. Joon-gi doesn’t turn up much after that once he read the text I sent him.

His face is grim when I let him in, sensing how important the situation is.

“Where do we start?” he asks without preamble.

I try the tracker I placed on her weeks ago, but the signal is dead—she’s not wearing the same clothes where I’d hidden the device in her pocket. Which means we’re going in blind, following instinct and desperation instead of hard intelligence.

Our first stop is the fake modeling agency that Vanguard uses as cover in Itaewon. Once we arrive we scope it out, we find the building is empty. The windows are dark and nobody’s inside.

As we head back outside, three Jeokpa spot us from across the street and start rushing in our direction, their intent written all over their faces.

It confirms what I’ve been suspected—we’re now considered enemies of the Cheongryong. There’s no going back from this.

“Divide and conquer,” I mutter to Joon.

We split apart just as the first attacker reaches us. Two of them come at me while Joon battles the third.

I duck out of the way as they both throw wild punches that connect with each other instead of me. They crash together in a tangle of limbs and curses, giving me the opening I need to grab one by the neck and drive his face into the brick wall. He stumbles back with his nose broken and blood smeared on the bricks, then drops to the floor, unconscious.

The other recovers quickly, rushing at me with a switchblade he’s pulled out. I manage to outmaneuver him just in time, dodging his blade and then landing a solid hit to his cheek.

The blow hardly does any damage. He’s advancing a second later, swiping his blade at me. He throws his leg out for a side kick and connects with my ribs.

I power through the twinge of pain and deliver an uppercut that snaps his head back. Then I move in for the kill, flipping him onto his back and driving his own switchblade into his chest.

I look up in time to spot Joon collapsing to the pavement. His arm is wrapped around his stomach, his shirt soaked with blood.

Sprinting over, I’m able to interject just as the Jeokpa goes for the fatality. I deliver a roundhouse kick, knocking the switchblade out of his hands and then following up with a strike to his face.

This Jeokpa clearly has fight experience. He doesn’t go down easily like the others. We exchange brutal blows—his fists against my ribs, my elbow against his jaw—until I manage to get him in a submission hold and snap his neck with one violent twist.

Joon is sweating and bleeding on the ground, propped up by the side of the model agency’s building. I drop beside him and assess the damage.

The stab wound is deep but nothing he can’t recover from with the right medical care.

“Come on, brother,” I mutter, throwing his arm around my neck and hefting him upward. “Stay awake. I’ll take you to get help.”

Where the help is coming from is a given. It’s something I don’t even give thought.

I drive like a maniac through Seoul’s morning traffic, weaving between cars and speeding through yellow lights until I reach the hotel where Priscilla is staying.