The Billionaire's Bodyguard

Neon Predator

[KANG JIN-WOO]

Club Vertigo was a subterranean nightmare vibrating at 140 beats per minute. Even from the street, you could feel the bass rattling the asphalt.

I pulled the unmarked sedan—taking the Maybach here would be idiotic—into the alley behind the club.

Beside me, Seo-Yeon was staring out the tinted window at the line of hundreds of people waiting to get in. She was rigid, her hands clenched in her lap. The leather jacket creaked with tension.

"Relax, Princess," I said, killing the engine. "You look like you're waiting for a firing squad. You're supposed to be a rich party girl looking for a good time."

She turned to me. The eyeliner made her look fierce, but her eyes were wide with apprehension.

"I've never been to a place like this. I attend galas. Opera houses."

"This is an opera house. Just with more drugs and less clothing." I got out of the car. "Stay on my hip. If we get separated, do not move. I will find you. If someone touches you, break their fingers."

We bypassed the massive line. The bouncer at the VIP rope was a slab of muscle in a tight t-shirt. He looked ready to argue until I stepped into the red light above the door.

He saw my eyes. He saw the scar on my neck. He saw the way I stood.

Professionals recognize professionals. He unhooked the velvet rope without a word.

We stepped inside.

It was like walking into a jet engine. The air was thick, hot, and smelled of expensive cologne, cheap sweat, and desperation. Strobe lights sliced through the darkness, illuminating a sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor.

Seo-Yeon flinched as the wall of sound hit her. She hesitated at the top of the stairs looking down into the pit.

I didn't have time for hesitation. I grabbed her hand—her skin was clammy—and pulled her down into the chaos.

[PARK SEO-YEON]

Sensory overload.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The bass hammered against my chest, rattling my teeth.

I was used to boardrooms where people listened when I spoke. Here, I was anonymous. Just another body in a borrowed dress. A drunk man stumbled into me, sloshing something cold onto my bare shoulder.

Before I could recoil, a heavy arm wrapped around my waist.

Jin-Woo pulled me flush against his side. He was a solid, immovable rock in a churning ocean of people. The heat radiated off him through his thin t-shirt, burning my side.

"Keep moving," he growled into my ear, his voice cutting through the noise. "Eyes up. Don't look like prey."

We carved a path through the dance floor. He moved with terrifying ease, shoulders shifting, creating space where there was none. People instinctively parted around him, sensing the apex predator in their midst.

I clung to him, my hand gripping the back of his tactical pants, stumbling in Ji-Eun’s high heels on the sticky floor. It was humiliating to be so dependent.

It was also the most exhilarating thing I’d ever felt. Velvet was screaming inside my head, drunk on the proximity, the danger, the raw masculinity of the man protecting me.

We reached a roped-off staircase leading to the mezzanine VIP level.

"Up," Jin-Woo ordered, giving my waist a firm squeeze that sent a jolt straight to my core.

[KANG JIN-WOO]

The VIP level was slightly quieter, the air thinner. It was filled with semicircular leather booths overlooking the dance floor.

I scanned the area. [Target Acquisition Mode: Active]

There. Third booth from the left.

Lee Sang-Hoon. The digital thief.

He was sitting in the center of the booth, looking very pleased with himself. He was wearing the same gray suit from the lobby. A magnum bottle of Dom Pérignon sat in an ice bucket on the table. Two women in sequined dresses were hanging off his shoulders, laughing at something he said.

He was celebrating selling Seo-Yeon's life.

I felt Seo-Yeon stiffen beside me as she recognized him.

"That’s him," she hissed. "He looks so... ordinary."

"The best thieves usually do."

I started walking toward the booth. Two large private security guards stood at the entrance to Lee’s section.

They stepped forward to block me.

I didn't stop walking. I didn't slow down. I just looked at the lead guard. I let the abyss open up.

Move, or I go through you.

The guard looked at me. He looked at the knife hilt barely visible at the small of my back. He did the math.

He stepped aside.

Lee Sang-Hoon was pouring champagne when I arrived at his table. He didn't notice me until my shadow fell across the ice bucket.

He looked up, annoyed at the interruption. "Hey, buddy, this is a private—"

The words died in his throat.

He recognized me from the lobby. The man who paralyzed Director Han.

His eyes darted to the woman standing next to me. The woman in the black dress with murder in her eyes.

His face went chalk white.

I smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile.

"Mr. Lee," I said, sliding into the booth next to him, crowding him against the wall. I picked up his glass of expensive champagne. "I believe you have something that belongs to the lady."