Page 56 of Ruthless Touch

Gun in a towel. Gun without his shirt. Gun’s grin and his teasing words that heat up my skin.

All of it’s very inconvenient when you’re trying to hate someone.

On night five, I wander into the living room to find him putting on the 2003 Korean filmOldboy.

The room dims to nothing but the blue glow from the TV screen.

I take the cushion that’s unofficially become mine. Gun merely smiles with his eyes, the dark orbs gleaming even in the dim room.

The moment feels strangely intimate and comfortable, like we’re good friends enjoying a movie night… or even worse, two lovers spending a night in.

“This your first time?” he asks.

My cheeks flush, and I glance over as my brain slowly works out that he means the movie.

The movie. NOT whatever it is you think he means.

…something intimate? Something involving real human connection?

It’s stupid.

Iknowhow to behave around men. I’ve grown up in predominantly male environments, from being raised by Dad and Uncle Jerald to joining the military and wearing a man’s uniform every day.

I’m one of only three female assassins working for Vanguard.

Some of my most credited kills have been seduction kills—me charming our targets to the point they didn’t know what hit them when the time came for me to go in for the kill.

Yet being around Rhee Gun-woo makes me feel like I have no experience with men. He makes me feel like I’m some nervous teenager on my first date with a guy I’ve been crushing on.

My stomach flutters and I force my gaze back to the TV screen.

“It’s a classic in Korean cinema,” Gun goes on. He tosses a handful of the sweet and salty popcorn he’s snacking on in his mouth. “It was so big it even broke into the States, didn’t it?”

“I’ve heard of it but never watched it…”

“You don’t just watchOldboy. You survive it. You do scary movies, Goyangi? Something tells me you think they’re juvenile.”

I do.

Usually.

But as the opening credits roll, it’s clear right away this isn’t some cheap jump-scare horror flick.

The music score swells in dramatic orchestra fashion, opening to a drunken man gripping a dog leash in one hand… and something off-screen dangling at the end of it.

“That’s him,” Gun says, scooping up another handful of popcorn. “The main guy. You’ll see.”

The scene transitions to a police station with the same man slurring and stumbling. He pisses on the wall and then picks a fight like an unhinged idiot.

I frown. “This is who I’m supposed to root for?”

Gun merely grins. “Wait for it.”

Over the next minute, the man disappears. Gone without a trace.

From there the movie takes us on a wild ride of psychological torment. I’m full of questions the deeper we get into the film.

“So… nobody thought to check the surveillance cameras when this guy vanished?”