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If one were to ask Jung Taekwoon about his lifestyle, what words he chose to live by, the response would probably be a bit cringy. Something like ‘live fast, play hard, die young’.
Of course, such a response would be shouted by a coked-up party boy in Taekwoons immediate vicinity, rather than by Taekwoon himself. And said coked-up party boy would then promptly be kicked out of Taekwoon’s entourage.
Jung Taekwoon was a very particular man. He moved about the world in a way that spoke of grandeur. Always clean, polished, and professional. And the carefully cultivated aura of authority around him was undeniable. When he spoke, people listened; and where he went, people followed.
So, Taekwoon may not have a life philosophy per se, but he did lead a life that filled those around him with reverence and envy. He loved three things above all else; expensive clothing, adrenaline thrills, and taking things that didn’t belong to him.
Adjusting the cuff of his tuxedo jacket, Taekwoon waited for his opponents to place their bets. From his seat at the card table, he could see Sanghyuk. He could see the slight shifting of Sanghyuk’s fingers silently signaling which cards his opponents held. But on this occasion, he didn’t need to cheat.
He had a straight flush. 7, 8, 9, 10, Jack. All sporting little crimson hearts. According to the rules of poker, it was a practically unbeatable hand. Straight flush was the second best hand it was possible to get, only behind a royal flush, and the odds of another player holding a royal flush were nonexistent. Taekwoon simmered with quiet confidence at the prospect of his imminent victory.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please turn over your cards,” said the dealer, gesturing to the player directly to her left.
Taekwoon glanced at the community cards, all five lined up in front of the dealer like lucky little ducks in a row. 2 of Diamonds, 8 of Hearts, 9 of Hearts, Queen of Spades, Jack of Hearts.
“Three of a kind,” called the dealer, once the leftmost player had shown their cards. A pair of Jacks. Rather unlucky, Taekwoon thought.
The next player showed an 8 of Clubs and a 9 of Diamonds. The dealer nodded. “Two pair.”
Taekwoon let his gaze flick lazily around the Royale casino. Not looking for anything or anyone in particular, just taking in his surroundings. Until a flash of platinum by the bar caught his eye.
“Two pair, high,” called the dealer, once the woman seated beside Taekwoon had shown her hand. A 2 of Hearts and a Queen of Hearts.
Taekwoon flipped over his cards with a languid twitch of his fingers. Too busy watching the blonde man at the bar to notice the murmured ooh’s and ah’s from the onlookers when the dealer called, “Straight flush.”
His winning hand, 7 of Hearts and 10 of Hearts, were all but forgotten as the remaining players showed their cards.
The blonde man wasn’t wearing a tuxedo like most of the other male guests. He was all in black, yes, but the black crew neck shirt he had on beneath his black-on-black houndstooth blazer made him stand out from the crowd. As did the shine of his patent leather shoes and that shiny, shiny hair.
“Three of a kind,” called the dealer, quickly followed by “Two pair,” as the final two players flipped their cards.
Taekwoon returned his attention to the game just in time to see the dealer extend a gracious hand in his direction. “Straight flush. Mr. Jung wins.”
In a less high-brow establishment, or if his opponents had more to drink, there might have been some grumbling. Or even a fist or two banged on the table. But not in this casino. Rowdiness was an easy way to get yourself kicked out of Royale.
So, even as the dealer counted up the pot and handed Taekwoon a smaller stack of five chips -equivalent in value to the pot, but much more convenient to carry around- none of his opponents said a word. He’d won fair and square. The game was over.
Likewise, Taekwoon stayed silent. He didn’t showboat or brag, that wasn’t his style. All he did was nod, tip the dealer a $1000 chip, and walk away. A small fortune now residing happily in his pocket.
Taekwoon didn’t go over to watch Sanghyuk’s game. The two never spoke during ventures like this. They never spoke, never interacted, never arrived or left at the same time. If one happened to get caught, the other would be clear of suspicion and could bail them out later.
Such precautions were a necessity, although it was a point of pride for Taekwoon that they’d never, ever been caught.
Instead of going to watch his partner, Taekwoon made his way over to the bar.
It was large; an ostentatious affair of mirrors and marble. Bottles of every shape and size lined the wall and three bartenders scurried back and forth filling orders.
Miraculously, the stools on either side of the blonde man were vacant. Two seats to a side, actually. He had an entire corner to himself. If Taekwoon had paused to consider why that might be, he would have understood it for the warning it was.
But he didn’t pause, nor did he consider; stepping up and taking the seat to the blonde man’s left without hesitation. Hesitating wasn’t Taekwoons modus operandi.
“Old fashioned,” he said, in response to the bartender's request for his order, “Four Roses if you have it, Hudson Bay if you don’t.”
The bartender moved away with a murmured ‘yes, sir’, and the blonde man turned to look at him.
“You know your whisky,” he hummed, wrapping plump, pink lips around a drinking straw and sipping something fizzy and clear, “A connoisseur, hm?”
Taekwoon kept his eyes on the bartender. Not showing any of the immediate interest that had stirred in him. “Not quite. I just have rather selective taste.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the man smile.
“I can't stand whisky myself,” the man replied, taking another sip, “No matter how fine the vintage, it all tastes like gasoline.”
The edge of Taekwoon's mouth twitched upward in a minute grin. “Fair point. It's not for everyone.”
The bartender returned and set his order on a coaster in front of him. Taekwoon slid him a chip as well. He was tipping heavy tonight, but the bartender was a professional, as were all the employees in this casino, and simply accepted the chip with a nod of thanks. Showing no outward sign that he’d just been handed two hundred grand for mixing a single drink.
Perhaps it had been an unconscious attempt to show off. A way to secure the blonde man’s full attention. Taekwoon didn’t think about the why of it too hard.
“That was generous,” the blonde man hummed, “Win big tonight?”
At last, Taekwoon turned to look at him. Liking the sharp elfin features and pink lips and brown eyes that greeted him. His new drinking companion was quite handsome.
Taekwoon took a sip of his old fashioned, languidly shrugging one shoulder. “I win big every night.”
The blonde’s smile widened. “Cheers to that.”
They clinked glasses.
“It was brave of you to approach me like this, lucky, I must say,” he continued, signaling for a refill. Mischief twinkled in his lovely brown eyes.
Taekwoon hummed. He had no idea what the man meant, but he didn’t want to openly display his ignorance when they’d only just met. “I suppose it was.”
The man watched him, and Taekwoon raised his glass to take another sip.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Taekwoon shrugged again. “Do you know who I am?”
The man shook his head.
“Well then,” Taekwoon continued, “Introductions are in order. My name is Jung Taekwoon.”
He held out his hand to shake and the man blinked at him. Looking from his face to his waiting hand and back again. “A pleasure to meet you, lucky Jung Taekwoon, my name is Lee Jaehwan. And-” he nodded at Taekwoons open palm, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It might be difficult to keep winning at no-limits Hold’em if your right hand goes missing.”
Taekwoon’s eyes narrowed a bit, but he heeded the warning and dropped his arm. Lee Jaehwan noticed me as well, he thought, if he knew what game I was playing before I walked over here. Perhaps the interest is mutual.
“Germaphobe?” he guessed.
“Not quite,” Jaehwan chuckled, flashing the diamond-studded ring on his left hand, “My husband doesn’t like it when I’m touched by other people.”
The glass in Taekwoon’s hand stilled, hovering an inch from his mouth. But the stillness only lasted an instant before he regained his composure. Reeling in his surprise. For someone usually so adept at reading people, he’d done a very poor job on this occasion. That ring was hard to miss.
“Ah,” he replied. The interest Taekwoon felt prickling in his gut swelled a little, but he kept his expression impassive. Excited by the knowledge that this man belonged to someone else. “He sounds overprotective, your husband. If you’ll pardon me for saying so.”
Jaehwan hadn’t stopped looking at Taekwoon; a wicked smile playing on his lips, fingertips tracing the rim of his freshly refilled glass. “He loves me very much, that’s all.”
“I’d assume a man like that would be here with you,” Taekwoon replied, casual and calm, “But you looked pretty lonely before I came over.”
“My husband is a very busy man, lucky,” Jaehwan said, in something akin to a confidential whisper, leaning into Taekwoon’s personal space, “But he’s always got at least one pair of eyes on me.”
Knocking back the rest of his cocktail, Taekwoon signaled for another. Using it as an opportunity to scan the room.
Sure enough, two very large men in plain black suits and aviator shades were standing with their backs to the opposite wall. Hands folded before them and guns holstered on their belts. There were other, suspiciously weapon-shaped lumps beneath their jackets as well.
“In fact,” Jaehwan continued, leaning away and carding a hand through his hair, “I’m sure he’s already aware that you’re here speaking to me. He doesn’t miss much.”
“Must be hard living like that. I can't imagine being under constant surveillance is very fun.”
“Well, not constant exactly. I can steal a private moment every now and then if I want to.”
“Can you?” Taekwoon asked, tilting his head.
Jaehwan’s eyes twinkled. “If I want to.”
There was a pause. A moment of silence between them. Each taking the measure of the other.
Taekwoon lifted his glass, using it to hide his mouth so the hired muscle lurking by the wall wouldn’t be able to lipread. “Do you want to?”
“I think...” Jaehwan chewed on his plastic straw, playing coy now. Pretending to be lost in thought. “I think I just might, lucky.”
Nodding a little, Taekwoon fished his wallet out of his pocket. He wasn’t finished there yet, but he wanted his tab settled in case he needed to make a quick exit. And his wallet was also where he kept his business cards.
“And what about you, lucky? Are you married?” Jaehwan asked, watching Taekwoon's fingers as he slipped a handful of bills out of his wallet. Clearly curious about what Taekwoon was doing.
Taekwoon shook his head. “Fortunately not. I enjoy freedom too much for that kind of arrangement.”
“Well, that’s- oh!” Jaehwan squeaked. His reply was cut off when the wallet slipped from Taekwoon's hand.
Taekwoon ducked to grab it just as Jaehwan moved to do the same. Their shoulders bumped, jostling the blonde a little, and the clear fizzy cocktail Jaehwan had been sipping got knocked over in the process. Spilling its contents all over both Taekwoon and the bar counter.
“I’m so sorry,” Jaehwan exclaimed, sounding more startled than apologetic, grabbing a linen napkin and preparing to press it to the wet spot blooming on the front of Takewoon's jacket. But the surprise in his eyes soon melted away. No doubt feeling it when Taekwoon surreptitiously slipped his business card into Jaehwan’s pocket under the counter. Using the small burst of chaos to cover the quick sleight of hand.
The bodyguards had moved in, and someone was already cleaning up the spill. A fresh drink was waiting at Jaehwan's elbow before he had a chance to ask for one.
“I do apologize,” Jaehwan was saying. Not giving the game away and blotting at the fresh stain. “I’m not usually so clumsy, and this is such a lovely suit!”
“It’s my fault,” Taekwoon replied, hiding a grin. Delighting in the bursts of soft pressure against his abdomen each time Jaehwan pressed the napkin against him. “I didn’t mean to startle you. And don't worry about the suit, that’s what dry cleaning is for.”
“What’s all this?” asked a new voice, low and deep and deceptively soothing.
A man had approached their empty corner of the bar. Scratch that; two men had approached their empty corner of the bar. Both were dressed in tuxedos like Taekwoon, but one was more finely tailored than the other.
The first man, the one who’d spoken, was clearly in charge. His black hair was parted a bit to the right; obviously styled but still soft, with little tendrils floating around his temples. He looked to be around Taekwoon’s height, maybe an inch taller, and his body was well muscled beneath his suit. Long-legged and broad-shouldered. Handsome to, even with the wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, framing a pair of sleepy brown eyes. Perhaps, especially handsome because of them.
The second man, standing behind and to the right of the first, was no less good looking. More so, actually, but in a different way. Where the first man was handsome, this man was simply beautiful. Aesthetically perfect proportions and wide dark eyes. Intimidatingly beautiful even though he was scowling. And he wore his tuxedo like it was a uniform, rather than something meant only for special occasions.
And, to Taekwoon's dismay, he recognized them both. After all, he was a responsible criminal. It would have been idiotic not to research the casino he planned to steal from.
Setting a possessive hand on Jaehwan’s shoulder, the first man looked between them. That told Taekwoon everything he needed to know.
“I spilled my gin and tonic all over this poor man!” Jaehwan mumbled, continuing to blot at Taekwoons jacket until the first man took the napkin from his hand.
“Ah,” he replied. It was a short, sharp sound. He turned his head and caught Taekwoon's eye. “Our apologies. Drinks are on the house. If you give your information to the concierge, we’ll happily reimburse you for any repair or replacement.”
“That’s generous of you, but it’s really no trouble,” Taekwoon replied, grinning. Pretending that he had no idea who this man was, and that he wasn’t concerned about this man’s identity at all.
Now that he’d been relieved of his napkin, Jaehwan took over. Making introductions.
“Sweetheart,” he said, touching the man’s chest, “This is Mr. Jung Taekwoon. He was just telling me about the most fantastic game of Texas Hold’em. Isn’t that nice?”
The newcomer gave Taekwoon a thin smile. “Of course.”
“Mr. Jung, this is my husband, Kim Wonshik. And that,” Jaehwan waved at the second man, “Is my little brother and the manager of this delightful establishment, Lee Hongbin.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” said Taekwoon, shaking Wonshik's hand, then shaking Hongbin’s. Reading between the lines.
Kim Wonshik, half-owner and public face of this casino and one of the high-level bosses of the crime family that operated it. Lee Hongbin, the boss’s right hand man and head of internal security. The kingpin and the hatchet man.
Taekwoon understood now. The buffer of empty seats around Jaehwan. The security guards. Why him approaching Jaehwan was brave. His new blonde friend was a mafia darling, and a prestigious one at that. Taekwoon hadn’t known that Kim Wonshik was married.
“The pleasure is mine,” replied Wonshik. His shoulders relaxed a little as Jaehwan leaned against him. “You’ve been a regular guest here for some time, haven’t you, Mr. Jung?”
Taekwoon nodded. Jaehwan was still watching him; obviously enjoying the tense atmosphere.
“Well,” Wonshik continued, in that honey-smooth baritone, “Your loyalty is noted, and very much appreciated.”
“Thank you.”
Wonshik looked away, returning his gaze to Jaehwan. Taekwoon didn’t think his attention had shifted off the blonde man at all. Even as they exchanged pleasantries, Wonshik had touched him. Moving slowly from Jaehwan’s shoulder to settle at the base of his skull.
“I think it’s time for us to call it a night, doll,” he said evenly, smiling an unconscious little smile when Jaehwan looked up at him, “Don’t want you spilling drinks on anyone else.”
“You’re right, sweetheart,” Jaehwan beamed. He affected a yawn and stretched his arms up over his head. Playing more tipsy than he really was. “It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Jung. I hope we can expect you back again soon?”
“Next friday, I think,” Taekwoon nodded, gathering himself and preparing to go cash in his chips, “Good to meet you all.”
“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Wonshik hummed, both arms now wrapped around Jaehwan, “You’re welcome to stop by any time.”
Lee Hongbin hadn’t said a word, but his gaze spoke volumes.
As Taekwoon made his way out of the main hall and into the lobby, keeping his pace measured and even, he tried to catch a glimpse of Sanghyuk. His partner was nowhere to be seen.
He probably bolted as soon as Kim Wonshik and Lee Hongbin stepped onto the casino floor, Taekwoon thought, sliding the chips he still had through the opening in the cashiers cage. It was the smart move. Leaving right then, since Sanghyuk probably assumed Taekwoon had gotten caught. Safer to vacate the premises.
“Value: $808,722,” said the cashier, sweeping the chips off the counter. Her voice was tinny, transmitted to him through a small speaker that was mounted on the glass partition between them. “Will that be cash or check, sir?”
“Cash,” Taekwoon replied.
He watched her quickly and efficiently count out stacks of bills, doing everything in his power to stop from tapping his fingers on the counter or shifting his weight. Needing to appear relaxed. A bit happy, too, and a bit more drunk. Not wanting to let the security cameras pick up on his anxiety.
If he were smart, Taekwoon would walk away from this casino and never look back.
He’d been marked now. Lee Hongbin would be watching him from the moment he stepped through the door to the moment he stepped out again. And he’d unwittingly been hitting on the casino owner’s spouse, which wasn’t going to do him any favors. Running their game here again would be both unnecessarily risky and incredibly stupid.
But, while Taekwoon was smart, Jaehwan’s identity and his paranoia about getting caught didn’t outweigh his excitement.
He and Sanghyuk could run their game somewhere else, Taekwoon decided, crossing the lobby with a silver hard-carry case of cash in one hand. A white gloved doorman opened the door for him and Taekwoon stepped out into the night. And then promptly slid into the back seat of the nearest unoccupied taxi.
They could run their game somewhere else, but he could still come back. Taekwoon was a good poker player and he didn’t need to cheat to have fun. He could simply play. And he could see Lee Jaehwan again. If he lost every now and then, Taekwoon didn’t care. He had money to burn.
It was a gamble, but that’s what made playing the game so fun.
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‘Something’s waiting for you at the concierge. Compliments of the house.’
Taekwoon stared at his phone screen, confused for a solid ten seconds before his brain put the pieces together.
It was nearly 6pm. He’d only woken up an hour ago and had just stepped out of the shower when the message arrived.
It had been delivered as a text, but forwarded from a messaging app Taekwoon had never heard of. There was no signature, no phone number attached, nothing to clue him in on who’d sent it. But, as things stood, there was only one person he knew that both had the number listed on his business card and personal influence over a concierge.
Taekwoon lifted his phone off the bathroom counter, weighing options. He wrapped his towel around his waist and padded out into the bedroom.
‘It hasn’t even been 24hrs’ he replied, unsure if the sender would receive it. Perhaps the forwarding service only worked one way.
But another text arrived less than thirty seconds later. ‘Problem?’
Taekwoon smiled to himself. He dropped the phone on his bed, not sending anything yet. Testing the patience of his new acquaintance.
Only once he’d selected a suit for the evening and blowdried his hair, did Taekwoon type a response. ‘I told you I'd be back next friday. Do you miss me?’
Again, the answer came fast. Like Lee Jaehwan had been waiting and ready for it. ‘Come and ask me that in person.’
This felt like a bad idea, but Taekwoon couldn’t lie to himself. He was considering it. A handsome blonde man had left him a present in a dangerous place, that happened to be run by said blonde man's dangerous husband. Of course, he was fucking considering it.
‘I’m not sure your husband would appreciate it if I did so.’
Another quick answer. ‘Trust me.’
Taekwoon accidentally laughed aloud while reading that one. ‘There are several things I’d like to give you, Mr Lee, but my trust isn’t one of them.’
He waited, expecting to get a little banter back, but his phone stayed silent.
Taekwoon got dressed and checked again. Still no new message notification. And he checked after he’d made himself an espresso. And after he’d counted the cash in the hard-carry case he’d received from the casino cashier. Nothing. Radio silence.
“What happened last night?” Sanghyuk asked, as soon as the door to Taekwoon's apartment swung shut.
“Nothing much,” Taekwoon replied, flipping the lock, “I met someone interesting.”
“Does that someone happen to be Kim Wonshik? Or Lee Hongbin?”
His partner was on edge; Taekwoon could read it in the tese set of his shoulders and the line of his mouth. Sanghyuk idled in the entryway rather than coming all the way inside, like he was getting ready to bolt.
“I met them too, but that's not who I’m talking about. and - go sit down. You’re making me anxious.”
Sanghyuk walked slowly away and settled himself on a chair beside the kitchen island. Gifting Taekwoon a very petulant grumble on his way. “More interesting than a mob boss? Do I even want to know?”
Taekwoon checked his phone. Still nothing. “Probably best if you dont.”
“Well, we can't play there anymore regardless of who you met,” Sanghyuk said, his tone snappish, “They’ll be watching you now. We’ve gotta find a new place.”
“You’re right,” Taekwoon nodded, stepping into a pair of dress shoes, “But not tonight.”
Sanghyuk blinked at him. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Where?”
Taekwoon pocketed his phone and made sure his wallet was inside his jacket. “I have a date.”
That startled a laugh from Sanghyuk, which Taekwoon understood but didn’t appreciate. It wasn’t often that he went on dates. “With who?”
The lock clicked open and Taekwoon stepped out into the hall. Content to let his partner crash in his apartment and probably eat all his food until he got home. “A concierge,” he replied, before shutting the door behind him.
As he rode the elevator down to the ground floor, Taekwoon sent a final text. ‘See you soon.’
♡♧♤♢
Half an hour later, Taekwoon slid his black titanium credit card through the slot in the cashiers cage.
He wasn’t used to returning to a casino so soon. Normally, he never hit the same mark twice in a row. It was a safety precaution. He and Sanghyuk would take breaks in between hits, playing at a single casino maybe once every two weeks. Sometimes, if they were running two places at the same time, he could go a month between visits. They didn’t want to be noticed. Didn’t want to be thought of as regulars. Being afforded that kind of special attention would be counterproductive when they were trying to fly under the radar.
And yet, here he was at Royale once again, preparing to spend his second evening there in as many days.
None of that was to say that Taekwoon was out of his element. Even without his partner, with the promise of dangerous eyes watching him through hundreds of cameras, Taekwoon wasn’t nervous. A mantel of calm, cool confidence had settled over him the moment he stepped into the marble covered lobby.
“How much would you like, sir?” asked the cashier.
She plucked his credit card from the other side of the slot and glanced at it. Reading his name.
“Fifty thousand to start,” Taekwoon replied. Shoulders back and hands in pockets. That should be plenty; enough for him to play with until Jaehwan turned up.
The cashier shook her head and gave him his card back, ducking down to reach for something beneath the counter.
Taekwoon stiffened. She hadn’t even tried to run his card through the machine. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,” the cashier replied. She stood back up and, cupped in her hands, was a small velvet pouch. “Compliments of the house. Please bring this to the concierge.”
Baffled, Taekwoon accepted the little pouch. It felt very light. He almost thought it was empty until he felt paper crinkle beneath the black velvet.
“Thank you,” he said, voice soft, before stepping aside so the next customer could take their turn.
The concierge was going to be his next stop anyway, so Taekwoon walked to the other side of the lobby; moving up to the counter and presenting the pouch to one of the uniformed employees.
Without a single question, the conriege opened the pouch, removed the paper, and scanned it quickly. “Very good, sir. If you’ll wait just a moment...”
Taekwoon nodded. He watched the concierge disappear through a nondescript door behind the counter, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle. Sensing danger.
Jaehwan had told him there was some surprise waiting there, but if the man had been aiming for subtlety, he’d entirely missed the mark. This whole song and dance was nothing close to subtle. It was sure to draw attention.
The concierge reemerged, slipping the paper back inside the now visibly full pouch. “One-hundred thousand, courtesy of Mr. Kim as thanks for your patronage,” she said, counting out ten bright blue chips so Taekwoon could see, and then sliding them back into the pouch. Taekwoon swallowed. “And-” she flashed a single unmarked scarlet chip before dropping it into the pouch, “From Mr. Lee. Redeemable at the bar.”
Odd, thought Taekwoon, accepting the small pouch and tucking it into his pocket. Odd that Kim Wonshik would leave a gift for him. Odd that he’d tell Jaehwan about it, which he must have done, because how else would Jaehwan have known? Odd that Jaehwan would be able to hide something in said gift without anyone catching him.
Ducking into the restroom once he’d made it onto the Royale’s main floor, Taekwoon shut himself in a stall and read the slip of paper. The first message was typed, only the signature written by hand:
‘Loyalty is appreciated here above all else. Enjoy. - Kim Wonshik’
And then, beneath that, in black ballpoint scrawl:
‘See you soon, lucky. As soon as you’re brave enough to find me.’
Taekwoon tore up the note and flushed the pieces down the toilet.
He played three hands of no-limit Texas Hold’em, so distracted by thoughts of Lee Jaehwan that he lost all three hands. Forfeiting half the chips that Wonshik had gifted to him in less than half an hour. Where had Jaehwan come from? How had he ended up living the life he lived? Who was he really? Just a gangster’s arm candy, or something more?
Taekwoon wanted to pick apart the mystery that was Lee Jaehwan. He wanted to unravel him.
“Martini please,” he said, once he’d given up the game and sidled over to the bar, a bartender coming to take his order.
Jaehwan wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Not sitting alone in a bubble of privacy like he’d been the night before.
His drink was made and set before him. Taekwoon sipped lightly at it. Scanning the room for any glint of platinum.
Still, Jaehwan didn’t appear. And not until the taste of vermouth had thoroughly burned the back of his throat did Taekwoon feel brave enough to produce his scarlet chip.
Concealing it beneath a normal chip, passing it off as a tip, he handed it to the bartender.
Taekwoon held his breath, anticipation holding him still, waiting to see what would happen next.
The bartender thanked him, which was normal, but she’d seen the sparkle of scarlet when she dropped the chips into her pocket. And, once she’d gone and returned with a fresh martini, there was something rigid and rectangular hidden in the folds of Taekwoons cocktail napkin. A key card.
“Smoking lounge, second floor,” she said, head ducked as she wiped the counter with a rag to absorb the ring of condensation left by Taekwoons glass, “The door marked ‘private’.”
“Thank you,” said Taekwoon.
Martini in hand, he drifted around the main floor. Losing another ten grand at a roulette table on his way upstairs. The second floor wasn’t as pleasant as the first. It was full of the sounds of slot machines and played host to much more mundane clientele. Full of sad people gambling away money they didn’t have to begin with, penny by penny. Taekwoon found the atmosphere patently distasteful.
The smoking lounge was tucked away in the furthest corner, directly across the floor from the bank of elevators.
Because he was the kind of person who paid attention to these things, Taekwoon noticed it was at least a partial blind spot. Obscured out of view of the nearest camera by one of the decorative marble columns that stretched from ceiling to floor. A good place to meet.
Enveloped by hazy air and the perfume of smoldering cigarettes, Taekwoon found the door marked ‘Private’. Its mechanical lock buzzed, tiny LED flashing green, when he swiped his keycard.
“About time,” someone said, as soon as he’d entered the room and closed the door behind him, “I was starting to think you’d changed your mind.”
The sound of that voice was like a shot of adrenaline injected into Taekwoons veins. He turned on the spot and found Lee Jaehwan waiting for him. Sitting with his legs crossed at the foot of a very large bed, cherry red cocktail in hand, and a fresh martini ready on the dresser.
“Did you miss me?” asked Taekwoon, cocking his head to one side. He watched Jaehwan swallow a mouthful of his cocktail, watched Jaehwan uncross his legs and slowly get to his feet, watched Jaehwan stride purposefully across the room to stand before him. In a blue suit and turtleneck that evening. Dazzling.
Jaehwan flashed him a startlingly genuine smile. “I certainly did, lucky... wasn’t going to let you get away so easy...”
Tongue uncomfortably thick and heavy in his mouth, Taekwoon swallowed. “And, why all the nonsense with the texts? You could have just called.”
“Privacy,” Jaehwan replied, teeth catching his lower lip for a moment, “Encrypted, untraceable, you know. Nobody can know that we’ve exchanged personal communications. It’d be bad for business.”
He reached out and slipped a hand into Taekwoon’s hair, thumb trailing over the shell of his ear. Taekwoon did his best not to shiver at the featherlight caress.
Instead of shivering, because he was just dying to touch, Taekwoon laid a hand against Jaehwan’s sternum. Feeling the steady beat of Jaehwan’s heart beneath his palm.
And then Jaehwan leaned in and kissed him.
Taekwoons heart skipped like a scratched record inside his chest. His hands found Jaehwan’s waist, head spinning and Jaehwan’s tongue in his mouth.
His body was so soft and so warm that Taekwoon found he couldn’t stop touching. First his waist, then down to his hips, around to the small of his back before coming to rest on his abdomen. Jaehwan smelled like roses and white musk, and he wanted to drown himself in that delicious perfume.
Taekwoon turned them around and stepped forward to press Jaehwan back against the locked door. Vermouth and grenadine mingling in their kiss.
“I wanted you,” Jaehwan murmured, lips trailing along the curve of Taekwoons jaw, “From the moment I saw you. I wanted you.”
His fingers were knotted into fists around the collar of Taekwoons shirt, and when he raised his face again, smiling a downright wicked smile, Taekwoon forgot how to breathe.
They stripped the clothing from each other with hasty desperation. Jaehwan’s blue jacket falling to the floor, quickly followed by Taekwoon’s unbuttoned shirt. Frantic hands skimming over deliciously bare skin.
Jaehwan loosened the silver tie around Taekwoons neck, but he didn’t remove it all the way. Taekwoon couldn’t be bothered to remove it himself either. Doing so would have been a waste of precious time.
The backs of his legs bumped into the mattress and Jaehwan laughed, pushing him down with hands on his shoulders.
They splayed themselves across the bed; Jaehwan’s blonde hair tickling his cheek and Jaehwans knee between his thighs. He kissed the curve of Taekwoons throat, hands curled around Taekwoons wrists, his weight pinning Taekwoon down on his back.
Not that Taekwoon minded; he didn’t mind in the slightest. Too absorbed by the swell of supple flesh he felt when his fingers strayed to Jaehwans ass. Giving it a squeeze and hearing Jaehwans breath catch in response.
“Easy, lucky,” Jaehwan laughed, “You might wanna save your strength.”
Taekwoon loved the way that nickname sounded spoken in Jaehwans voice; low and husky and sweet.
The noise of the door swinging inward drew them both up short. Taekwoon sat up so fast that he nearly jostled Jaehwan onto the floor. He would have done, if his arm hadn’t been wound around the blonde man so tightly.
It was Kim Wonshik who’d entered, Lee Hongbin close on his heels. The two men that Taekwoon wanted to see least. Other less important people came in after them; Jaehwans surly looking bodyguards, another man in a charcoal colored suit…
Taekwoons face turned ashen pale. This was not good. Very, very, very not good.
“Here, doll,” Wonshik called, holding out a swath of dark blue fabric. His expression was one of vexation, true, but it wasn’t the fury Taekwoon had expected. Not the reaction of an overprotective husband finding their spouse in bed with someone else. “Are you finished toying with him yet?”
What?
Blunt nails dug into his cheek and turned Taekwoon’s head back around, so he was staring unblinkingly up into Jaehwans eyes. Still sparkling with mischief. Wicked little grin still firmly in place. “I suppose… it’s such a shame to waste him like this.”
“What?” Taekwoon gasped, finally managing to get the word out as Jaehwan pushed himself up. Levering himself with a hand flat against Taekwoon’s chest.
The room felt very cold without him.
“You’ve been stealing from me, haven’t you, lucky?” Jaehwan took the fabric from his husband's hand, sliding both arms into what turned out to be a bathrobe, and loosely knotting the belt around his waist. He shot Taekwoon a look over his shoulder. “You and that tall friend of yours?”
Taekwoon snapped his mouth shut.
They knew. They knew about his and Sanghyuk’s con. They knew, and now he was by himself, outnumbered and out-gunned, in a back room of a criminals casino. And nobody knew where he’d gone. Fuck.
“You can stay quiet if you like,” Jaehwan continued, one hand resting on Wonshiks shoulder, “I know you have been. Two million dollars, I believe?”
“Two and a half,” Hongbin corrected. Tone neutral as he continued to glare at Taekwoon.
Jaehwans smile widened. “Two and a half million, thank you, Bin.” And then he waved a hand at his bodyguards. “Take him.”
Before Taekwoon had a chance to fight back, the giant men had grabbed him and hauled him off the bed; dragging him across the room and shoving him down to his knees. Holding him there so all he could do was stare up at Jaehwan with sheer, undiluted panic.
“Ambitious,” Jaehwan hummed, tipping Taekwoons chin up with a finger, “Unfortunately for you, lucky, I do not allow people to take what’s rightfully mine. I’ve been watching you playing your little game for almost two months now, and it was quite amusing to see, but all good things must come to an end.”
Nausea swelled in Taekwoons gut, bile rushing up into his throat; pulsing in sickly convulsive bursts.
“I thought-” he whispered, the sentence choking off before it had fully formed in his mind. I thought I was clever? I thought I wouldn’t get caught? I thought I’d be safe?
“You thought I felt something for you?” Jaehwan asked, in a cruel, precise voice.
And then he laughed.
Taekwoon understood the situation fully now. Jaehwan had lured him there. Baited him with the promise of an evening of dangerous pleasure and then trapped him.
“Who are you?” Taekwoon asked, because somehow he still didn’t know. Who the blonde man really was or where he’d come from.
Jaehwan scoffed. He bent at the waist, face very close to Taekwoons, only stopped from toppling over by his husbands hands on his hips. “I am Commissioner Lee’s eldest son, and the heir to the Lee crime family, lucky. Didn’t you know?” he murmured, smiling wider with each word he spoke, “Or- did you really fall for the spoiled-trophy-husband act?”
The lump in Taekwoons throat felt like it was made of razor blades. “I can pay you, anything you want,” he tried, but the blonde man shook his head.
“I don’t want your money now,” Jaehwan continued, straightening up and snapping his fingers in his brother's direction, “And your tall friend is next on my list. You’ve stolen from me for the last time, lucky. Or, perhaps not so lucky after all…”
With a soft sigh, Hongbin stepped forward and pulled a handgun from the inside pocket of his jacket. Leveling the barrel against Taekwoons temple. “You played a good game, Mr. Jung. Nobody can blame you for losing.”
And then, he pulled the tri-
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