Page 138 of Ruthless Touch

We are who we are. He’ll carry his grief and his anger and his need to preserve our father’s memory intact.

I’ll carry the truth and my choices and hope for something better.

The storm is picking up, more lightning flickering across the sky. It drives me to finally head toward the gates at the front entrance, mind full of thoughts about what’s to come.

About the life I’m building with Elise. About the possibility of all the things it once seemed like I’d never earn because I wasn’t good enough.

But I’ve always been. I just had to realize that I was.

THIRTY

ELISE

It’searly afternoon when I turn up on a quiet street in Gangnam. I’m headed toward the small office sandwiched between a boutique law firm and an out-of-business bookshop. I sip from my latte once I’ve reached the front door, fishing for my ring of keys and letting myself in.

The place smells like new. It might as well be after the renovations that have been made—the entire building was gutted and replaced with a new layout.

Everything I would need for my work.

From the street, the place looks like a nondescript office. On the inside, there’s everything from an armory to a tactical planning room, and, of course, perks like the luxury espresso station.

That last one is still being installed.

But the reception area is simplistic but stylish. Monochromatic blues and grays paired with tasteful Scandinavian furniture.

I wanted the office to reflect the services I offer—straight to business, no chaser.

I set down my purse and pull a file to review when the front door chimes.

A man enters like he’s second guessing himself.

Late forties. Expensive suit. Widow’s peak.

His eyes dart both ways before settling on me. He’s nervous but trying not to show it. They always are, the first time.

“Uh… is this?—?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you’re?—”

“I am. I take it you’re Mr. Yun?” I gesture to the chair across from the reception desk. “Have a seat.”

He does as he’s told, hands folding in his lap like a schoolboy called to the principal’s office.

I slide the file across the table, watching his face as he scans the contents.

“Terms are simple. Payment upfront. No collateral damage. If you agree, we move forward. If not, walk away and we never had this conversation.”

He swallows hard, then nods. “When can you start?”

“I already have.”

“And… and it will be taken care of? No traces back to me?”

“What do you think collateral damage means, Mr. Yun?” I ask, arching a brow. “It won’t ever be traced back to you. The Dokkaebi Pa will have no idea you sought… outside help.”

He nods several more times, releasing a nervous laugh. “Okay… that sounds… that’s what I hoped for.”