Dressing for The Slaughter
857 Words
[PARK MIN-JI]
The dining room smelled of ozone and overheated electronics. My fingers ached.
Seventy-two percent match on the HR database. Negative.
Eighty-five percent on the national citizen registry. Negative.
"He’s a ghost," I said, frustrated, slamming my hand on the desk. "He’s scrubbed brighter than my browser history. He doesn't exist in Korea."
Jin-Woo was standing behind me, radiating a terrifying, cold heat. He leaned over, his large hand reaching past my shoulder to take the mouse.
"You're looking in the daylight records, Hacker," he rumbled near my ear. "Men like this don't live in the light."
He opened a browser window I’d never seen before. A dark web portal. He punched in a username and password so fast I couldn't track it.
A database appeared. It looked like a police mugshot archive, but uglier.
He ran the frozen image of the man in the gray suit.
Processing...
Match Found: 99.8%
A name flashed on the screen. Lee Sang-Hoon.
"Lee Sang-Hoon," Jin-Woo read the file, his voice void of emotion. "Former NIS cyber-warfare division. Dishonorable discharge for selling state secrets. Now a freelance corporate mercenary. Specialties: digital cloning, close-proximity data theft."
"A freelancer," Seo-Yeon whispered from the end of the table. "So he doesn't work for Park Corp."
"He works for whoever pays the highest bounty," Jin-Woo straightened up. "He’s the bagman. He stole the data, and now he’s waiting to hand it off to the real client."
"Where is he?" Seo-Yeon demanded.
Jin-Woo scrolled down the dossier. "His usual haunts are listed. High-end host bars in Gangnam. Places with loud music, expensive champagne, and dark corners where business gets done."
He checked his watch. 10:45 PM.
"He'll be celebrating a successful job tonight. Probably at 'Club Vertigo'."
Jin-Woo turned away from the screens, the energy in the room shifting instantly from analytical to kinetic.
"Min-Ji, keep monitoring the perimeter. Lock down the elevators. Nobody gets up here unless I physically bring them."
He looked at Seo-Yeon. "Boss, stay put. I’m going to go collect Mr. Lee."
"No."
Seo-Yeon stood up. The cashmere shawl dropped to the floor. She looked pale, terrified, and absolutely furious.
"I'm coming with you."
[KANG JIN-WOO]
"I'm coming with you."
It was a stupid idea. A tactical liability. A civilian in a combat zone.
But when I looked at her, standing there vibrating with rage, the Velvet hunger shining behind her eyes, I knew I couldn't stop her. If I left her here, she'd tear the penthouse apart.
Besides, she was the bait. Lee had stolen her identity; seeing the real thing might flush him out faster.
"It's not a board meeting, Princess," I growled, stepping close to her to intimidate her into backing down. "People get hurt in these places. Things get messy."
She didn't flinch. She stepped closer, tilting her chin up defiantly. The scent of her perfume hit me—roses and steel.
"He violated my home. He stole my life. I want to see you take it back."
Her voice was low, husky. It wasn't fear anymore. It was a demand for retribution.
I held her gaze for three seconds. I saw the monster peeking out.
"Fine," I relented. "But we do it my way. You move when I say move. And you can't wear that."
I gestured to her stiff, elegant CEO power suit. "You look like a narc or a kidnapping target. You need to blend in. 'Vertigo' is for rich kids spending daddy's money on drugs and models."
"I don't have 'club clothes'," she said stiffly.
"Ji-Eun does." I pointed toward the idol's bedroom. "Go shopping in her closet. Ten minutes. Find something black, something tight, and something that doesn't say 'I run a Fortune 500 company'."
She hesitated, offended by the order, then turned on her heel and marched toward Ji-Eun’s room.
Ten minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
I had changed. No suit. Black tactical cargo pants, heavy boots, and a black fitted t-shirt that didn't restrict movement. The ceramic knife was sheathed at the small of my back.
Seo-Yeon stepped out of the hallway.
I stopped checking my gear.
She was wearing a black silk slip dress borrowed from Ji-Eun. It was impossibly short, clinging to every curve, with a slit up the thigh that went dangerously high. She wore a cropped black leather jacket over it to ward off the chill, and black stiletto heels that looked like weapons.
Her hair was down, a dark cascade around her shoulders. She’d added dark eyeliner, making her eyes look fiercer, wilder.
She didn't look like a CEO. She looked like the kind of trouble men bankrupted themselves for.
My mouth went dry.
[Threat Assessment: Distraction level high.]
"Does this meet your approval, Mr. Kang?" she asked, her voice icy, but I saw the tremor in her hands.
I walked into the elevator, pressing the button for the garage.
"It'll do," I grunted, not looking at her, focusing on the steel doors reflecting our images. The monster and the siren, heading out into the dark. "Stay close to me tonight, Princess. And try not to start a riot before I find the target."
- Writer
