Page 25 of Ruthless Touch

They’re great together and deserve each other.

Meanwhile, I’m on this mission—I’m working for Vanguard in the first place—for the sole purpose of getting revenge.

I’m so messed up it’s the only way I can ever move on.

My chest tightens as I leave the fake modeling agency and wander the streets of downtown Itaewon.

Tourists chatter beside food stalls and boutique windows, but all I hear is the blood roaring in my ears.

Suddenly, every face feels like a threat. Every reflection, a warning.

I become hyperaware of how alone I am and how I’m on a public street mere hours after trying to assassinate two Cheongryong members.

Never underestimate your enemies. Always assume the worst. Always assume their capability.

My gaze slides from one corner of the street to the next, searching for the imminent threat. For the Cheongryong enforcer to be hiding in plain sight among the crowds.

…for Gun to appear.

The air stalls in my lungs.

It wouldn’t take him long to track me down. Not after last night.

Our chemistry was electric and we obviously had a mutual attraction. But Rhee Gun-woo isstilla captain in Korea’s most powerful mafia syndicate.

He’d want blood after how I played him.

He’s clearly figured out the truth already—I’m Black Silk and my name isn’t Jamie. I’m Elise Quinn, living in a mid-rise building in Itaewon.

I could be walking into a trap. I could go home and find him and his gangster minions waiting for me.

Worse yet, Priscilla could accidentally come across them.

The anxiety and paranoia plague me the whole subway ride back to the apartment. I’m so on edge on the ride up to the floor that one of my neighbor’s cats makes me jump.

The black cat purrs in answer and then slinks along.

I clutch at my chest, inhaling deeper breaths.

Gun had called me a feline—I was a black cat.

Is that a sign? Some kind of symbolic warning?

I check every corner of the apartment once inside. Nothing’s out of place and nobody’s around. The modestly sized apartment is completely empty and silent. I send a text to Priscilla just to check in and make sure she’s okay (and not kidnapped).

She answers with a string of emoji. Then a follow up message about my bruises.

I tap ‘thumbs up’ as a response, then head to my room. I’m halfway undressed for the hot shower I’m about to take when my phone buzzes.

Uncle Jerald is calling.

“El,” he rasps in his smoky voice the second I answer. “Tell me it ain’t true, baby girl.”

I hang my head, almost groaning. “Unc, this isn’t the time.”

“You know you’re not getting out of this talk with that excuse,” he says sternly, sounding a lot like he did when I was a kid. “Tell me the rumors aren’t true. You went rogue last night?”

“Why does everybody suddenly know my business? This is supposed to be a top-secret assassin operation! What’s with the fucking gossip?”