Page 69 of Ruthless Touch

“I want the main room,” one of the other female servers named Chan-mi says. She’s practically bouncing on her feet at the chance. “Those lieutenants always pay well if you know how to smile pretty. Sometimes they even make you their mistress.”

“I’ll take it,” I say firmly, adjusting my grip on the serving tray. “You can work the smaller rooms tonight.”

Disappointment flashes across her features, but she doesn’t argue—probably figuring she can still score big with some of the other captains and soldiers..

I grab the tray laden with premium soju bottles and crystal glasses and make my way toward the private room where Rhee Tae-hwan and his inner circle have settled in.

The space throbs with electric -blue lighting that transforms everyone into ethereal-looking creatures. Cigar smoke curls through the air like incense; the earthy smell pungent and inescapable.

The men drink like the alcohol is free and endless and they themselves have no physical limit. Their laughter booms over the sound system as they watch a young soldier on the stage absolutely butcher Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean”.

His voice cracks on the high notes while his superiors roar with laughter at his humiliation. He’s nothing but entertainment for them as one captain yells at him to do the moonwalk.

He’s so drunk that when he tries, he trips over himself and falls on his ass on stage.

More loud uproars of laughter fill the room.

I give no reaction either way, no choice but to wear my mask.

I’m deep undercover in a room full of men who would gladly kill me. I can’t give any indication I’m anything more than a server.

I strut through the room with the same magnetic confidence that had ensnared Gun that night at Eclipse, letting my natural charisma shine.

A small, demure smile graces my lips, and I maintain eye contact with any man whose gaze lingers on me.

I’m the intriguing and exotic lounge girl here to serve them.

Just another pretty girl tending to their needs.

As I carefully set the bottles down where three of the four lieutenants sit sprawled in their leather chairs, most barely acknowledge my presence beyond grabbing fresh glasses.

But Lieutenant Im’s rheumy eyes lock onto mine with uncomfortable intensity, recognition flickering in his drunken stare.

For a split second, I’m worried he recognizes me. He’s remembered that I’m the assassin who tried to shoot him just a couple weeks ago.

Then he makes a perverted kissy face at me that turns my stomach and confirms he doesn’t recognize me at all—he’s just shitfaced drunk.

Still, I force a sweet smile and play up the flirtation with a wink. I’m pretty sure he’s old enough not just to be my grandfather butgreat-grandfather.

It’s as I start to walk off that another guy—some mid-level captain—smacks my ass.

When I pause and turn for a glare at him, he merely grins wider.

“I like big booties,” he slurs, leaning back in his chair. “How much?”

My smile remains as I lean down close. “Way more than those five fingers are worth. You might want to keep them to yourself, or youmightlose them.”

He chuckles uncomfortably, his expression shifting as if he’s wondering if he heard me correctly over the loud music and laughter.

It doesn’t matter either way. I meant what I said.

Over the next hour, I linger in the room, fulfilling whatever requests Lieutenant Rhee and his entourage have.

Refilling glasses. Delivering a selection of imported cigars. Even serving yangnyeom chicken, Korea’s sweet and spicy version of American fried chicken.

All while being grateful one person isn’t here tonight. If Gun had shown up, I would’ve been screwed.

It was a huge risk I took landing this job just so I could gain access to the Cheongryong when he knows my real identity.