Cat's Cradle

II: "A Good Friend Is the Greatest Gift" -Your Grandma's Wall Art and Me

There are very few things I want in life—particularly nice nails, nice hair, and a very hot, very rich spouse. However at this point, it looked like I wasn't getting the hot, rich spouse. But it was fine. I lived a nice life. And I'd rather die young and pretty—partly because I loved the melodrama of dying before my time, and partly because growing old terrified me—but mostly because I would die at the hands of a fucking attractive mob boss.

I still hated interrogations. But instead of some random Guro-gu police station, I'd been dragged to the private lounge of a Hongdae club and tied to a chair. And instead of an embarrassing inspector, I was being questioned by a fucking attractive mob boss.

"I knew you were bold." Min Yoongi, the fucking attractive mob boss, sat across from me. "But I never thought you'd target a criminal syndicate. In particular, I never thought you'd target my family."

He had hooded eyes and pouty lips, and stood shorter than most of the men in the room, yet he was still over a head taller than me. His voice was the perfect mix of deep and gravelly. And this man had an amazing sense of fashion: an array of jewelry decorating his neck and ears, the sleeves of his button-up rolled to his elbows (revealing a sleeve of very nice tattoos), and his hair perfectly tousled across his forehead.

Yoongi continued. "I know you're not that stupid."

"You know—" I was probably proving him wrong by opening my mouth. "—I'm really flattered that you think I'm 'not that stupid.'"

He ignored me. "But I know you were arrested a month ago. You were released without a single charge made against you, despite the amount of evidence stacked against you. And the very next day, you began sitting behind Jungkook."

"Damn." Pouting, I turned to Jungkook. "I really thought we bonded in econ."

"Sorry." Jungkook adjusted himself uncomfortably, Jimin perched on his lap and Taehyung smirking beside them. Someone else stood behind the couch, his face blank. "Yoongi immediately knew who you were the moment I mentioned I made a new friend."

Quickly, I shook my head. "Nah, don't blame yourself, Jungkookie. It was an accident." I directed my pout to Yoongi, mildly proud of myself for talking my ass off in the face of death, rather than pitifully begging for my life. "He said we're friends. And if you kill me, I'll never finish Naruto and give him character analysis on Itachi."

"Are you two done?" Yoongi asked impatiently.

"Sorry," Jungkook repeated, although this time to Yoongi rather than me.

"The bottom line is," he continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Someone arranged for your release in exchange for targeting my family. Let's make this quick and just tell me who you're working for."

"I don't work for anyone—" A knife appeared against my neck. "—It was the police! They black-mailed me! I swear, it's the police!"

Yoongi raised his brow.

"They threatened me," I told him, breathing shallowly. My mortality slapped me in the face, reminding me I was surrounded by men who would very gladly slice my neck open. "He told me they'd put my sister in prison beside me."

"Her words match up, boss." The tree-sized dude from downstairs appeared beside me with my phone in his hand, which meant the smiley guy was holding the knife. "Some inspector from Guro-gu sends her emails like, twice a day at least. His name's Kim." He tossed my phone to Yoongi, who thankfully caught it.

"See! This is why we should let me go," I said frantically. "I super pinkie-promise I saw nothing."

"How do I know you're not working for someone else?" He leaned in closer to me, and I became incredibly aware of both how sharp the blade was, and how cute his nose was. "You spend a lot of time around the children of Korea's most powerful men."