I kissed her. I fucking kissed her. I didn't like her, didn't desire her. To me, she was nothing but a nuisance — a nuisance I could very well do without.
As soon as I left the room, I messaged my father, letting him know exactly what had happened with Maggie—and what she knew about our family.
Just as I slipped my phone into my pocket, I stepped into the kitchen and locked eyes with Chen and Kang sitting at the table. Both wore looks that spelled trouble—curious, wary, and impatient.
"When do we release her?" Chen asked bluntly.
I hadn't even sat down, and already he was grilling me.
I sighed, adjusting the cufflinks on my shirt. "Turns out, we're not releasing her at all."
Their reactions couldn't have been more different. Kang smiled like I'd just handed him a prize; Chen, on the other hand, looked deeply unsettled.
"Why?" Chen's eyes widened.
I took my seat at the head of the table and drummed my fingers lightly on the wood. "Because she knows about us."
Kang snorted dismissively. "We already know she saw us that night."
I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Not that. She knows who we are, what we do, and—most importantly—our family history. That information is classified. No one outside this family is supposed to know it."
Kang's smile faded into a frown. "What?"
"You heard me. She knows too much."
Chen lowered his head and shook it slowly. "So she knows we're mobsters. That's it, right?"
I nodded. "Yes. And because of that, she has to stay."
"Have you spoken to Father about this?" Chen asked.
"I will, when I get a moment alone or when he calls me back." I snapped, irritation creeping into my voice.
"What do you think Father will say?" Kang pressed.
I shrugged. "I don't know. But if it were up to me, I'd say: kill the bitch and be done with it."
A tense silence filled the room, broken only by Kang's sharp laugh. "Didn't I say we should've just killed her the night she saw us? We wouldn't be dealing with this mess if you'd listened."
"Kang, that was before she knew about our family history," Chen said quietly.
Kang slammed his hand on the table, drawing both Chen's and my attention. "That doesn't matter! She saw something no one was supposed to see. No witnesses."
I nodded. For once, Kang was right. What our family did was meant to stay secret.
I glanced at my younger brother, who was watching the exchange with disinterest.
"Yuta?" I called.
"What?" he muttered.
"Let's just kill her and get this over with," Kang said again.
I chuckled and shook my head. "How many times do I have to say it? It's not up to me."
"It's not?" Kang blinked.
"No. I'm not the Dragon Head."
"Not yet," Chen murmured.
Since I was a child, I dreamed of being the Dragon Head. When I first discovered my father's world, I was shaken. I'd seen people part for him in crowded rooms—bankers, cops, judges—all kissing his ring. From that moment, I knew I wanted what he had. It was in my blood.
I smirked to myself. "All in good time."
Chen threw his hands up in frustration. "So, what? She's going to be a prostitute?"
I shrugged. "Either that or she dies. Doesn't really matter to me or anyone else."
Kang licked his lips. "I hope she chooses the first."
"Why's that?" Chen asked.
Kang grinned, flashing a V sign and sticking his tongue out. "Because then I get to fuck her whenever I want."
I raised a hand to stop him. "Don't touch her until I hear from Father."
"You called Father?"
"I sent him a message."
Kang snorted. "You expect a reply anytime soon? You might as well send a message to his guard. Father never uses that damn phone."
Hours passed. Still no word from Father. Guess I was right—he never really knew how to use a phone.
I stared at the screen for a long moment. No reply. I messaged Chen my location and told him to meet me. I didn't bother texting Kang; knowing him, he was probably busy with prostitutes. Fucking whores was the only entertainment around here.
After another long glance at my phone, I pocketed it, grabbed my car keys, and headed home.
I had a decision to make.
Do I convince Father to give her a chance in the organization? Or do I suggest we kill her because she knew too much?
"Decisions, decisions," I muttered.