"I have your son. If you expect to get him back, then I suggest you meet our demands."
Jeon Jungkook didn't ask for this life. He didn't ask to be the mayor's son or for the expectations of joining the police force by the age of twenty-one. And he s...
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Jimin
I hold my breath and press my ear to the door, waiting for my prey. Today's target is Lee Hangyeol, age fifty-four—owner of the infamous Lee Law Firm. People like him are easy kills and some of my favorite to dispose of.
"Looking good, Venessa," Hangyeol snickers, a loud slap reverberating in the nearly empty building as he slaps one of his female employee's asses.
The action causes me to roll my eyes and I silently slip into the shadows and adjust my black hood, waiting for the slimy bastard to make his appearance.
Light filters the room and I stay tucked away as Taehyung talks to me in my earpiece, giving me the go ahead once all other employees have vacated the premises.
The lawyer goes to his liquor stash as I silently sit at his desk, interlocking my gloved fingers and resting my head on them. I sit man-spread, my chunky combat boots resting comfortably against the hardwood flooring.
Hangyeol flicks the light switch on to pick his poison. Once he's chosen, he turns around, nearly dropping the bottle when he sees me.
"Fuck! You scared me. Who are you?"
"Depends who's asking." I blow a tuft of silver hair out of my line of sight, peering at the man with a deadpan expression. "I go by many names, none of which you deserve to have leave your tongue. For tonight, I suppose you can call me your executioner."
His brown eyes narrow at me and he sets his alcohol down before studying me. "Is this some sort of role play? Did one of the guys buy you for me as some sort of prank?"
I chuckle lightly, flipping the switch from menacing to playful. "Why, am I not your type, Mister?"
He visibly gulps, shaking his head dumbly. "You're perfect," he breathes out. Hangyeol walks over to me, fingers tracing my features as his eyes cloud over in a hungry, primal lust. "It looks so jarring, seeing a pretty thing like you clad in all this black leather. You're a freaky little thing, now aren't you?"
"Anything for you, Mister." I bat my lashes.
"Come on, baby, let me see more of that face of yours," he husks, his erection growing by the second as he moves to lower my hood.
I grip his wrists, shaking my head. "Nuh, uh, uh~ You can look, but you can't touch, Mister. Wouldn't want your grimy rapist hands all over me, now would I?" I ask, tone growing venomous towards the end.
"W-What?" His eyes widen, but he is now fully erect, his leaking dick aching against his restricting slacks.
"I said, I don't fuck rapists." My grip tightens.
"But I thought—"
"I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart." I blink. "What made you think you or any of your slimeball friends could ever afford me?"
