Chapter 9 Elise
NINE
ELISE
KD’s arms clamp around me like a vice, nearly squeezing the air out of my lungs. I stiffen out of instinct. Public affection’s never been my thing—and KD knows that—but he’s always been a softie when we’re about to head out on another mission.
“Fuck, Onyx,” I groan as my ribs scream in protest. I’m still tender from my fight with Gun the other night. “Are you trying to hug me or put me in the hospital?”
“Just checking if anything’s broken,” he teases, releasing me. “And maybe reminding you you’re not made of steel. Even if you act like it.”
“Or maybe you act like you’re made of cotton candy. Toughen up.” I smack my palm to his abdomen, my version of revenge for his viselike bear hug.
He pounds his own fist against his stomach. “Oh please, me? You feel these abs. I’ve got a six pack and you know it, Silk. I’m rock hard and ready to go.”
“That… sounds a lot more perverted than you probably realized,” I say with a smirk. “But we do have to get a move on. We’re already two minutes behind target.”
“Whose fault is that? I’ve been waiting for over half an hour.”
I can’t argue with KD’s point—I was running late tonight. I took longer than usual because I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched.
And followed.
I didn’t take my usual route to our meet up point. I wanted to shake off whoever might be following me until I began to wonder if anyone even was.
For the past week I’ve spent every waking moment paranoid the Cheongryong had already discovered my identity. Thoughts about Rhee Gun-woo specifically filled my head.
He’s become a ghost I can’t escape as instinct tells me we’ll meet again soon.
Even as I stand on the busy street corner with KD, I glance around us, searching the faces of strangers as if I expect to see him.
But he’s nowhere to be found.
“Let’s head out,” KD says. “Lieutenant Ko should be arriving at his gambling tournament soon.”
We move through the narrow streets toward the lounge, the city pulsing around us with its usual nocturnal energy.
Neon signs flicker overhead in bright yellows, blues, and purples, casting fractured rainbows across the puddles on the ground.
Bass-heavy music fills the air from the many clubs and bars in the area.
A block away from our target, KD and I pause under the shadow of a fire escape, the metal grating above us dripping condensation from the earlier rain. He checks his watch, then mine, synchronizing our movements down to the nanosecond. An art we’ve perfected over years of working together.
“Back entrance in five,” he murmurs, barely audible over the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting from the main street. “You still good with the roof?”
I nod, pulling the compact grappling hook from the inside pocket of my slim-fit black cargo pants. “Ko should be hitting the private rooms within fifteen minutes. I’ll be in position.”
KD melts into the dark background of the alley without another word. If I didn’t know to listen to the careful pad of his footsteps dying away, I’d never know he was in the alley with me.
I pause long enough to steady my breathing, centering myself and getting into the right mindset for what I have to do.
When you go on missions like these, you have to turn emotion off. All thoughts about anything other than the task at hand have to be shut out.
You effectively become a machine with one task and one task alone to accomplish.
I’ve mastered it to the point sometimes I blackout during these moments. There have been kills I barely remember.
They call me Black Silk for a reason—I’m smooth and effective. Sometimes to a scary degree.
I’ve never failed before, and I won’t start now that I’m finally working the operation targeting the same people who killed Dad.
There will be no survivors once I’m through.
That includes Rhee Gun-woo.
I switch on my task-only assassin mode and aim the hook toward the building’s rooftop. The hook catches on the edge, digging deep into the concrete.
My ascent is swift and silent, my body moving with the fluid grace of someone who’s done this countless times before.
The city spreads out below me as I climb—a glittering tapestry of lights and movement. People living their lives completely unaware that death is scaling the walls just above their heads.
They’ll never know how close they were to an assassin about to make a kill shot.
Once I climb onto the rooftop, I become nothing more than a shadow moving in the dark night. My steps are quick but careful, avoiding the loose gravel that could give me away.
The skylight glows with warm amber light from below. I slide to my knees to sneak a glance through the reinforced glass.
Lieutenant Ko Dong-kyu is exactly where our intelligence said he’d be—leaning against the bar with a tumbler in his hand, surrounded by other men in expensive suits who have no idea they’re drinking with a dead man.
I pull back before anyone can spot my silhouette, my pulse steady and controlled despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
This should be easy. Light work that’ll take us two minutes at most.
The door that leads into the building sits on the far side of the roof. I pad toward it with more light steps, already visualizing the path I’ll take once I’m inside.
But as my hand reaches for the door handle, someone interrupts the silence on the rooftop. The voice behind me comes out of nowhere but is immediately familiar.
“Another busy night?” Gun asks calmly.
I whip around to find myself face-to-face with him and his cocky fucking smirk. Loathing twists my features, my glare narrow-eyed and deadly.
“So you were following me,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“Of course I was, Goyangi-ne. Didn’t think I’d let you disappear on me twice, did you?”
The tension crackles between us like an electric storm, both of us waiting to see who’ll make the first move.
Then instinct takes over and my hand flies to the dagger strapped at my belt, fingers closing around the steel before I launch it at him in one fluid motion.
Gun’s reflexes are fucking impeccable—his upper body swerves left with the kind of speed that comes from years of martial arts training.
But I’ve anticipated he would dodge my blade, so I’ve already rolled into my follow-up attack. I drop into a crouch and sweep my leg out in a wide arc that catches him behind the knees.
He crashes down hard, his back slamming against the gravel with a grunt of surprise and pain. That free second is all I need to get the hell out of here.
I bolt toward the edge of the rooftop. The mission is blown—there’s no way we can take out Ko with Gun here. We can’t possibly salvage what’s instantly become a clusterfuck.
Our best bet is to call it off.
“Mission’s aborted,” I puff into the smartwatch on my wrist. “I repeat, Onyx. Mission’s aborted. Evacuate the scene.”
My boots hit the ledge just as I finish sending the message. I launch myself into the void, the space between buildings a pitch-black gaping hole.
But it looks like a farther distance than it really is. About ten feet or so.
I land with less grace than usual, stumbling forward as I regain my footing.
Behind me, Gun’s already scrambling to his feet. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s charging toward the rooftop edge, clearly determined to follow me.
He leaps with no hesitation from the other building to this one with no hesitation.
Fuck.
He refuses to give it up.
He makes the jump look easier than I did. His long legs eat up the distance with alarming ease.
One second he’s a building away, the next we’re on the same roof. He’s gaining ground with every stride.
For a man built like he is—tall and trim but with broad shoulders and noticeable muscle—he’s impressively quick.
But will he be able to maneuver the tight and dizzying space of the building’s fire escapes?
I dart straight for the one on the other side of this structure, grabbing the metal railing and swinging myself over and down like an acrobat.
Years of childhood gymnastics always pays off during moments like these.
My hands find each bar with ease as I drop from level to level. The ladders shudder under my quick movements, but then Gun lands on the top platform with enough force to make the whole thing rattle in protest.
He’s taking the stairs four or five at a time, his boots thundering against the metal grating.
By the time I hit the alley floor, he’s already halfway down. I dart toward the maze of side streets, hoping to lose him in the labyrinth of narrow passages.
I’m breathless and less strategic than usual, the ache in my side throbbing away.
Where the hell is KD?! Why didn’t he voice message me back?
A part of me considers calling him for backup. But then my pride inevitably gets in the way. I always rely on myself and myself alone.
I always do things on my own.
It’s like Uncle Jerald said:
You have to be paranoid in the world we live in, baby girl. That’s why it’s best not to let people get too close. You remember what that cost your father? He thought those people were his friends, and what did they do to him?
Gritting my teeth, I pick up the pace. I can handle this.
I’ve handled Rhee Gun-woo before. I just have to be strate—
“Stop running!”
The gunshot echoes off the brick walls of the buildings around me. I feel the bullet whiz past me, slicing through the dark air.
Without thinking, I dive through the window of what used to be a grocery store, glass shards raining down around me as I roll across the debris-strewn floor.
Sharp pain pricks my skin from where the glass pieces cut me up. But I still have no time to pause even for a second. Not when I’m trying like hell to lose him.
Gun springs up as promptly as I expect.
I’m dashing through the aisles of expired box items and rusted shelving, and he’s closing in like the predator he is.
“Goyangi!” he yells in a sing-song taunt. “Why do you run? Have you forgotten we’re supposed to like each other? C’mere!”